A/N: I combined two
asks (this one that made the randomizer cut and one that didn’t) because I felt they
fit so well together. Enjoy!
“Keiji.” The whimpered whisper of his name from her lips
sends shockwaves up Akaashi’s spine, followed promptly by a tremble of pain
when she presses an antiseptic wipe to the cut on his chest. “They ruined your
new piece,” she complains, applying gentle pressure to stop the bleeding. He
glances down, eyes focused on her furrowed brow.
She’s so cute when she’s worried.
The fight, a result of two-bit thugs running their mouth
about her, should have been inconsequential and it was; until one of them
pulled a knife. Akaaski felt the sting but didn’t have time to react before
Bokuto laid the guy out, would have killed him if Akaashi hadn’t talked him
down. One cut wasn’t worth a full-on war. He wasn’t even that hurt, both his
leader and his girlfriend making a bigger fuss about this than they should.
Though he finds it difficult to complain when her hands,
done with their task of bandaging his wound, trail up and over his shoulders as
she rounds the chair he’s seated on to wash up and put away the first aid kit.
Sighing, Akaashi gets up, heading to his bed to stretch out. He’s not there two
minutes before she’s curled up next to him, hands back on his exposed chest
trailing the outlines of his ink.
Akaashi takes in a breath, humming appreciation for her
affection.
“This one is my favorite,” she remarks, index finger tapping
the immortalized image of his name and hers in kanji set just above his heart.
The symbols are encircled by tree branches, two owl silhouettes nestled next to
one another. “Then again,” she continues, hand skimming over his stomach to his
side, “this one is just so badass.” It’s his favorite, the Bengal tiger that
wraps from his back to front, teeth and claws bared.
Her caresses are waking up more than just his skin, a
distinct firmness growing stronger the longer she touches him. When she couples
the sensation of her hands with her lips he can’t stop a low groan from
escaping and she doesn’t miss it.
“Mmmmmm,” she moans, dipping her hand below the line of his
jeans, “what do we have here?” Her head turns to look at him, eyes full of mischief
sprinkled with longing. “Does the patient want some pain relief?”
“Yes,” he breathes, not bothering with pretense. She smiles
knowingly, fingers unbuttoning his jeans with practiced ease to give her room
to move. Leaning up on her left elbow, body pressed close to his side, she
pushes just enough to release his length, finding him fully hard and already
dripping.
“Wow, you want it bad,” she murmurs, “did the fight get you
all riled up?”
“You get me riled
up, minx,” he moans, hips arching up as she teases his dick with the tips of
her fingers.
“Now, now, Keiji, you know what happens when you call me
that,” she coos.
“Yeah, so get to it, minx,” he almost growls. She chuckles, breath
ghosting over his cock. Akaashi groans softly as her lips encircle the tip of
him, letting out a whoosh of air as she pushes down to take him all the way in
her mouth. She’s moved again, straddling his legs, bobbing up and down with
skill. His hands roam to her hair, drawing some of it away to make it easier
and she hums a thank you around him, the vibration making his eyes roll to the
back of his head.
“_______, fuck,” he hisses at the feel her teasing teeth.
She hums again, hands rubbing over his chest while she sucks
him. Akaashi’s brain is muddled, his wants cascading over one another. He wants
her to keep going, he wants to taste her, he wants to fuck her, he just…he
wants her.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he murmurs, pulling her up to
kiss roughly before rolling over and kicking away his clothes. His mouth
latches to her neck, tongue laving over what he knows to be “her spot” and
smirks when he hears her gasp. One hand shoots up her shirt, grabbing a breast firmly,
tweaking her nipple through her bra.
“Keiji,” she mewls, music to his ears.
He moves his hand downward, grabbing her panties and skirt, shirking
them off before rubbing his hand up her inner thigh to the apex of her legs.
“And you tease me for being eager,” he whispers against the
shell of her ear when he finds just how ready she is for him.
“Shut up and fuck me,” she orders, biting his bottom lip.
Pushing her legs apart to make room for himself, Akaashi lines up, driving in
hard and deep. “Oh god,” she shouts but he swallows the outburst in a fiery
kiss. Normally he takes his time, plays her up, teases her to the brink before wrecking
her.
But not today, not right now when she feels so hot and wet
and good around him. He thrusts hard and fast, loving the feel of her nails
raking down his back, devouring her cries and moans like a man starved. He
loves her, so much it hurts sometimes, so much it scares him but he’ll never
stop.
“Ke..keiji.” She’s close, inner walls tightening, finger
clutching tufts of his hair.
“Come on baby,” he says, eyes closed and lips on her neck, “come
hard for me. Come now!”
Her orgasm is volatile, a shriek of release tearing from her
lips reminiscent of a cry for mercy. He fucks her through it, the feel of her
clenching enough to draw out his own release, announced by a low, deep groan
from his throat.
Panting heavily, the couple lay within one another’s arms,
basking in the afterglow of their intimacy.
“You should visit Yachi tomorrow, see if she can’t fix the
damage,” she comments idly drawing circles on his back.
He hums agreement from his place upon her chest, falling
into a deep slumber surrounded by her love.
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