(couldn't even do this outside an au, hope that's okay haha...)
Hinata's wrists are raw and aching from a fruitless struggle with the manacles. He's given up on them for now, hanging limp with exhaustion against the cold stone wall, but the fierce glare of light has not yet left his eyes.
"You have such faith in him," the Demon King observes, with a flickering half-smile. His curiosity is flippant but his nails are razor-sharp against Hinata's throat, pressed like a laughably chaste kiss to the throb of his pulse--too light to break the skin but hard enough to cut him should he so much as twitch a muscle. When he leans in close his lips brush hot against the shell of Hinata's ear, perversely intimate. "I can't see why, to be honest."
Hinata scowls, but he can't lean away, so he snaps out his words like he could somehow wound with sounds alone. He can't. His sword lies on the ground mere paces away, a constant mocking reminder of his powerlessness. "Shut the hell up already. We are going to take you down."
Even now, Oikawa's laughter is too light, a sickly-sweet carillon that echoes through the shadowed hall until it's nothing but an awful, shapeless resonance in the pit of Hinata's stomach. "See!" he crows, rocking back on his heels to take in the full extent of Hinata's weakened, bruising body. His eyes are shining with an unmistakeable delight. "You keep saying 'we', like you're so sure he's coming for you!"
"He'll come," Hinata says, and he spits, but Oikawa dodges it easily enough. He drags his nail from Hinata's neck and up the line of his jaw, across his chin, until the soft pad of his finger is pressed to Hinata's bottom lip. Hinata's muscles are trembling, his hair stuck to his brow by a thin sheen of sweat.
"Did he ever tell you?" Oikawa wonders aloud, head cocked now to an exaggerated angle. His horns catch the torchlight and gleam like a brittle obsidian grin. "That Tobio, he used to serve me."
Hinata flinches, but Oikawa's finger is insistent, pushing between his lips to the wall of his teeth, so that Hinata can't answer without admitting it into his mouth. Oikawa only hums and says, "I thought not. He lead one of my armies back then, you see, only they turned against him, isn't that funny? Such a bad leader that even demons couldn't stand him. And yet--"
When Hinata tries to shout a protest, purely instinct, Oikawa's fingers slip in at the first opportunity: two of them pressing heavy on Hinata's tongue until he gags with it. Saliva drips over Oikawa's knuckles and spills down Hinata's chin, cooling rapidly in the chilly air until it's just a sticky residue on his face. Oikawa is snickering all the while, a susurrant and vile sound, like the soft hissing deaths of moths immolating in the firelight. Hinata starts to pull at the chains again but he doesn't dare bite down, not with the threat of laceration still implicit in Oikawa's leer of challenge. Oikawa presses down again, until Hinata's throat is spasming and hot tears are prickling in his eyes, but the pressure relents just moments before he vomits, and Oikawa finally pulls back, his posture wholly pleased.
"So this is a 'hero'," he says, slowly shaking his head. "Doesn't look like much to me."
Hinata musters the dregs of his energy and aims a kick to Oikawa's side, but Oikawa only catches his ankle and holds it, tight enough to hurt even through his breeches. The chains screech above while Hinata fails to twist away, and then Oikawa is pushing forward again with a very thoughtful hum, folding Hinata's knee up to his chest so that it's suddenly difficult for him to breathe under the pressure. His other palm slides over the back of Hinata's thigh until it's cupping his ass, and he can see the moment the realisation hits because all the blood drains from Hinata's face, and in that breathless, suspended moment he gives one slow, deliberate squeeze.
"S-stop, what are--don't," Hinata stutters wildly, thrashing at the vertex of humiliation and horror, and Oikawa makes a distasteful face but still there is a sound of tearing leather, sliced away, leaving Hinata's lower half newly exposed to the cold air and Oikawa's wandering hands.
"This is really too prosaic," Oikawa sighs, even as Hinata's body jerks away from the probing pads of his fingers, "but surely our dear Tobio wouldn't miss it for the world. Where is he now, do you think? Not yet summoned by the sheer power of your belief?"
Hinata is shrinking back where he can, but the struggle is draining from him fast, until he's just a writhing mess of limbs beneath the Demon King's manipulations. "It doesn't matter what you do to me," he manages, through his gritted teeth. His pulse is thready under his overheated skin, but he's glaring, somehow he's still glaring. "We're still gonna crush you."
"You know," and Oikawa's hands are spreading Hinata's legs now, his body is smothering Hinata's body, pushing him back to the wall, his face close enough the words are a gust of air against Hinata's slackening mouth. "--you heroes really piss me off."
That's all the warning Hinata's given before Oikawa's cock is pushing into him, and it's just too much, too sudden, Hinata's look of grim determination breaks all at once into one of shock and pain. The tears are spilling over, running freely down his red-stained cheeks, and Oikawa's moan is low and satisfied in his ear. For a long moment they are still, sweat-slick and panting in the near-darkness, Oikawa savouring the shudder that sweeps down Hinata's spine and Hinata struggling to keep silent. Then Oikawa pulls back just slightly in a very shallow thrust, but still Hinata chokes, a damp and ragged sob torn from somewhere deep inside his chest, and Oikawa's lips curl in a smile like dripping treacle.
"Does it hurt?" he says, curiously, but Hinata's biting down on his own lip so hard his mouth is a dark smear of blood. Oikawa makes a tutting sound and leans forward to lick at it, pressing his own smile against Hinata's straining grimace. "I could make it feel nice instead. Do you want it to feel nice?"
Hinata bares his teeth in a pinkish snarl, but his eyes are still wet and his whole body shakes with it. Oikawa's grip tightens on his thighs but he doesn't thrust again, not yet. Instead he says, "Have you done this before then? Has he gone this far with you yet? ...No?"
Hinata seems to rally some degree of detachment at the words and only stares resolutely forward, but his fingernails are still digging white crescents into his palms where they're bound above his head. Oikawa huffs out an amused breath against his cheek and just keeps talking, even while his cock is twitching deep inside Hinata. "If I make it feel good, you can pretend it's Tobio that's fucking you. I mean, since he won't actually. Wouldn't that be nice? I can be generous too."
The hitching noise that finally breaks free of Hinata's mouth is one of abject misery, but when Oikawa's mouth brushes at his ear again a nonsensical whisper slithers from his lips into Hinata's brain, an insidious and writhing thing that seems to spread through his entire body like a creeping disease, and within moments the tension is easing from Hinata's brow, replaced instead with a shiver of warm confusion, a flush of something like fever leaving him dazed by the leap of his own pulse beneath Oikawa's hands.
Only then does Oikawa move, in tandem with a guilty moan that rings out into the silent hall and echoes all around them. Hinata legs are wrapping around Oikawa's waist and Oikawa is fucking into him with a languid rhythm, lapping again at his mouth for the last beaded drops of blood and the salt of sweat in the dip below his nose. Hinata's stare is glazed, his tongue sluggishly pliant between them, and when he moans again, a helpless, wanton sound in the humid air they share, finally Oikawa reaches down to palm Hinata's cock where it's suddenly hard and leaking, throbbing in his grip.
"Good," Oikawa whispers, stroking him once and nodding when his eyes flutter shut from the sensation. "You look much better like this. I wonder what our dear Tobio would say if he could see you now," and he punctuates each word with another stroke, until Hinata is whimpering, weakly thrusting his hips up into Oikawa's fist and falling back onto his cock when his muscles give. Oikawa laughs, saccharine as ever, but Hinata tries to swallow the sound, tongue colliding with Oikawa's tongue and a desperate, keening noise.
Oikawa pulls away from the kiss and nips at Hinata's swollen lips like a playful lover might. "Just like that," he murmurs, "yes. All spread out for me and crying like a needy little slut."
Hinata's eyes look wild and lost, but his body's jerking urgently, chasing after Oikawa's heat, so Oikawa gives it to him, pitching forward into a mounting, frantic pace. Hinata's ankles lock around his waist but his body's small enough Oikawa bears the weight with ease, and for a long time the only sound is the rattling of the chains, their grunts of effort, the Demon King's cloak flapping at his thighs while he fucks Hinata to a shuddering, aching peak. And then he leaves him there, panting and straining uselessly toward Oikawa's hand while Oikawa waits with coyly lowered lashes for Hinata to ask nicely.
"Well well," he says, against Hinata's jaw, and suddenly his voice drops low, gruff and clipped and terribly familiar. "What is it? What the hell do you want?"
Hinata's eyes squeeze shut, moisture spilling from their corners, but his red mouth shapes a strangled groan, and then he rasps out: "please--"
"Speak up, dumbass," Oikawa whispers, punctuating it with a single jerk of his hips, and Hinata can't form the word again but cries out all the same, a broken, meaningless noise as he comes all over Oikawa's hand.
Later, when he's limp against the wall and his vision's still a warmly swimming blur, Oikawa draws a fingertip across his bound wrists where they've begun to bleed from friction, and shakes his head again, lips a shiny moue. "You should be more careful, Hero-chan. We don't want Tobio to think I don't know how to treat a guest. That is, if he's coming."
Hinata's brow pinches into the faintest frown, and his mouth falls open, but he can't say anything at all.
Oikawa only shrugs, turning on his heel and marching back toward his towering stone throne. "He is rather late. So rude."
FILL: "status effect (charm)" (oikawa/hinata, fhq-verse, NON-CON)
Hinata's wrists are raw and aching from a fruitless struggle with the manacles. He's given up on them for now, hanging limp with exhaustion against the cold stone wall, but the fierce glare of light has not yet left his eyes.
"You have such faith in him," the Demon King observes, with a flickering half-smile. His curiosity is flippant but his nails are razor-sharp against Hinata's throat, pressed like a laughably chaste kiss to the throb of his pulse--too light to break the skin but hard enough to cut him should he so much as twitch a muscle. When he leans in close his lips brush hot against the shell of Hinata's ear, perversely intimate. "I can't see why, to be honest."
Hinata scowls, but he can't lean away, so he snaps out his words like he could somehow wound with sounds alone. He can't. His sword lies on the ground mere paces away, a constant mocking reminder of his powerlessness. "Shut the hell up already. We are going to take you down."
Even now, Oikawa's laughter is too light, a sickly-sweet carillon that echoes through the shadowed hall until it's nothing but an awful, shapeless resonance in the pit of Hinata's stomach. "See!" he crows, rocking back on his heels to take in the full extent of Hinata's weakened, bruising body. His eyes are shining with an unmistakeable delight. "You keep saying 'we', like you're so sure he's coming for you!"
"He'll come," Hinata says, and he spits, but Oikawa dodges it easily enough. He drags his nail from Hinata's neck and up the line of his jaw, across his chin, until the soft pad of his finger is pressed to Hinata's bottom lip. Hinata's muscles are trembling, his hair stuck to his brow by a thin sheen of sweat.
"Did he ever tell you?" Oikawa wonders aloud, head cocked now to an exaggerated angle. His horns catch the torchlight and gleam like a brittle obsidian grin. "That Tobio, he used to serve me."
Hinata flinches, but Oikawa's finger is insistent, pushing between his lips to the wall of his teeth, so that Hinata can't answer without admitting it into his mouth. Oikawa only hums and says, "I thought not. He lead one of my armies back then, you see, only they turned against him, isn't that funny? Such a bad leader that even demons couldn't stand him. And yet--"
When Hinata tries to shout a protest, purely instinct, Oikawa's fingers slip in at the first opportunity: two of them pressing heavy on Hinata's tongue until he gags with it. Saliva drips over Oikawa's knuckles and spills down Hinata's chin, cooling rapidly in the chilly air until it's just a sticky residue on his face. Oikawa is snickering all the while, a susurrant and vile sound, like the soft hissing deaths of moths immolating in the firelight. Hinata starts to pull at the chains again but he doesn't dare bite down, not with the threat of laceration still implicit in Oikawa's leer of challenge. Oikawa presses down again, until Hinata's throat is spasming and hot tears are prickling in his eyes, but the pressure relents just moments before he vomits, and Oikawa finally pulls back, his posture wholly pleased.
"So this is a 'hero'," he says, slowly shaking his head. "Doesn't look like much to me."
Hinata musters the dregs of his energy and aims a kick to Oikawa's side, but Oikawa only catches his ankle and holds it, tight enough to hurt even through his breeches. The chains screech above while Hinata fails to twist away, and then Oikawa is pushing forward again with a very thoughtful hum, folding Hinata's knee up to his chest so that it's suddenly difficult for him to breathe under the pressure. His other palm slides over the back of Hinata's thigh until it's cupping his ass, and he can see the moment the realisation hits because all the blood drains from Hinata's face, and in that breathless, suspended moment he gives one slow, deliberate squeeze.
"S-stop, what are--don't," Hinata stutters wildly, thrashing at the vertex of humiliation and horror, and Oikawa makes a distasteful face but still there is a sound of tearing leather, sliced away, leaving Hinata's lower half newly exposed to the cold air and Oikawa's wandering hands.
"This is really too prosaic," Oikawa sighs, even as Hinata's body jerks away from the probing pads of his fingers, "but surely our dear Tobio wouldn't miss it for the world. Where is he now, do you think? Not yet summoned by the sheer power of your belief?"
Hinata is shrinking back where he can, but the struggle is draining from him fast, until he's just a writhing mess of limbs beneath the Demon King's manipulations. "It doesn't matter what you do to me," he manages, through his gritted teeth. His pulse is thready under his overheated skin, but he's glaring, somehow he's still glaring. "We're still gonna crush you."
"You know," and Oikawa's hands are spreading Hinata's legs now, his body is smothering Hinata's body, pushing him back to the wall, his face close enough the words are a gust of air against Hinata's slackening mouth. "--you heroes really piss me off."
That's all the warning Hinata's given before Oikawa's cock is pushing into him, and it's just too much, too sudden, Hinata's look of grim determination breaks all at once into one of shock and pain. The tears are spilling over, running freely down his red-stained cheeks, and Oikawa's moan is low and satisfied in his ear. For a long moment they are still, sweat-slick and panting in the near-darkness, Oikawa savouring the shudder that sweeps down Hinata's spine and Hinata struggling to keep silent. Then Oikawa pulls back just slightly in a very shallow thrust, but still Hinata chokes, a damp and ragged sob torn from somewhere deep inside his chest, and Oikawa's lips curl in a smile like dripping treacle.
"Does it hurt?" he says, curiously, but Hinata's biting down on his own lip so hard his mouth is a dark smear of blood. Oikawa makes a tutting sound and leans forward to lick at it, pressing his own smile against Hinata's straining grimace. "I could make it feel nice instead. Do you want it to feel nice?"
Hinata bares his teeth in a pinkish snarl, but his eyes are still wet and his whole body shakes with it. Oikawa's grip tightens on his thighs but he doesn't thrust again, not yet. Instead he says, "Have you done this before then? Has he gone this far with you yet? ...No?"
Hinata seems to rally some degree of detachment at the words and only stares resolutely forward, but his fingernails are still digging white crescents into his palms where they're bound above his head. Oikawa huffs out an amused breath against his cheek and just keeps talking, even while his cock is twitching deep inside Hinata. "If I make it feel good, you can pretend it's Tobio that's fucking you. I mean, since he won't actually. Wouldn't that be nice? I can be generous too."
The hitching noise that finally breaks free of Hinata's mouth is one of abject misery, but when Oikawa's mouth brushes at his ear again a nonsensical whisper slithers from his lips into Hinata's brain, an insidious and writhing thing that seems to spread through his entire body like a creeping disease, and within moments the tension is easing from Hinata's brow, replaced instead with a shiver of warm confusion, a flush of something like fever leaving him dazed by the leap of his own pulse beneath Oikawa's hands.
Only then does Oikawa move, in tandem with a guilty moan that rings out into the silent hall and echoes all around them. Hinata legs are wrapping around Oikawa's waist and Oikawa is fucking into him with a languid rhythm, lapping again at his mouth for the last beaded drops of blood and the salt of sweat in the dip below his nose. Hinata's stare is glazed, his tongue sluggishly pliant between them, and when he moans again, a helpless, wanton sound in the humid air they share, finally Oikawa reaches down to palm Hinata's cock where it's suddenly hard and leaking, throbbing in his grip.
"Good," Oikawa whispers, stroking him once and nodding when his eyes flutter shut from the sensation. "You look much better like this. I wonder what our dear Tobio would say if he could see you now," and he punctuates each word with another stroke, until Hinata is whimpering, weakly thrusting his hips up into Oikawa's fist and falling back onto his cock when his muscles give. Oikawa laughs, saccharine as ever, but Hinata tries to swallow the sound, tongue colliding with Oikawa's tongue and a desperate, keening noise.
Oikawa pulls away from the kiss and nips at Hinata's swollen lips like a playful lover might. "Just like that," he murmurs, "yes. All spread out for me and crying like a needy little slut."
Hinata's eyes look wild and lost, but his body's jerking urgently, chasing after Oikawa's heat, so Oikawa gives it to him, pitching forward into a mounting, frantic pace. Hinata's ankles lock around his waist but his body's small enough Oikawa bears the weight with ease, and for a long time the only sound is the rattling of the chains, their grunts of effort, the Demon King's cloak flapping at his thighs while he fucks Hinata to a shuddering, aching peak. And then he leaves him there, panting and straining uselessly toward Oikawa's hand while Oikawa waits with coyly lowered lashes for Hinata to ask nicely.
"Well well," he says, against Hinata's jaw, and suddenly his voice drops low, gruff and clipped and terribly familiar. "What is it? What the hell do you want?"
Hinata's eyes squeeze shut, moisture spilling from their corners, but his red mouth shapes a strangled groan, and then he rasps out: "please--"
"Speak up, dumbass," Oikawa whispers, punctuating it with a single jerk of his hips, and Hinata can't form the word again but cries out all the same, a broken, meaningless noise as he comes all over Oikawa's hand.
Later, when he's limp against the wall and his vision's still a warmly swimming blur, Oikawa draws a fingertip across his bound wrists where they've begun to bleed from friction, and shakes his head again, lips a shiny moue. "You should be more careful, Hero-chan. We don't want Tobio to think I don't know how to treat a guest. That is, if he's coming."
Hinata's brow pinches into the faintest frown, and his mouth falls open, but he can't say anything at all.
Oikawa only shrugs, turning on his heel and marching back toward his towering stone throne. "He is rather late. So rude."