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Iwaizumi can feel it deep in his skull. Voices around him echoing in his head – headache incoming. One more remark from Sakurai and it’s hello to a migraine. And he hasn’t even been in the room for five minutes.
“Our shootouts have always been successful. That’s one of the things Seijoh does best. We need a show of strength,” Sakurai argues.
A stout man by the name of Ishikawa vigorously nods his head in approval. “I agree, why do we need to be discreet? They messed with us first.”
Iwaizumi shares a look with Hanamaki, one of his bodyguards standing beside him and long-time friend. Fucking Ishikawa. He’s always been Sakurai’s loyal dog. Fuck this fucking migraine too, Iwaizumi thinks. It hasn’t been long since he succeeded Mizoguchi as oyabun so he hasn’t implemented all the changes he wants to make. Personnel movement had to take a backseat to more pressing issues, one of which is the theft of their narcotics shipment by the Manji gang. But Iwaizumi thinks life has a way of biting his ass, because now he’s regretting not replacing this council of old men sooner.
Another council member argues. “It is absolutely imperative that—”
“No.” Iwaizumi finally speaks up. He doesn’t shout, but his voice is authoritative. “We can’t do things the old way. We don’t need a show of strength, not yet. We just-”
“With all due respect, Iwaizumi-san-” Sakurai starts, but is startled by a loud slam on the table.
“No one interrupts me while I’m talking. And it’s kumicho to you, Sakurai.” Iwaizumi narrows his eyes into slits. This incoming migraine sure isn't doing Sakurai any favors.
“As I said,” Iwaizumi continues when every single person in the room has their eyes on him. “We need to take an indirect route.”
Just then, the sound of heels clacking on the floor catches everyone’s attention. “Because we can't be caught in the crossfire, right, Iwa-chan?” A sweet voice supplements. Oikawa slithers in the room in a teal satin dress that doesn’t quite leave much to the imagination.
Usually Tooru is a big source of migraine himself, but not when he looks this delectable, Iwaizumi thinks.
Oikawa glides across the room to the alpha and deposits himself onto Iwaizumi’s lap. “What are you doing here, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi asks quietly, no bite in his words whatsoever. “You looked like you needed to be saved,” Tooru smirks, whispering to Iwaizumi like they weren’t in a meeting hall with six other men. “And I kind of also just woke up from a wet dream and am now in urgent need of the real thing,” he says slyly, eyes glazed with lust, copping a feel of the growing tent in Iwaizumi’s pants.
Yep, this is my cue to leave, Hanamaki thinks. He’s been around Iwaizumi and Oikawa long enough to know what happens next. He leaves the room as disinterested as he arrived.
“A blatant show of strength will only unite the Manji gang against a common enemy, that enemy being us,” Tooru addresses the whole council. “That would just be counterintuitive to our goal of taking advantage of the turmoil within the gang, don’t you think, Saku-chan?” he winks at Sakurai, all while rubbing Iwaizumi’s bulge in big strokes.
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. Oikawa and his knack for nicknames.
“Manji is unstable right now,” Iwaizumi explains. “Yamaha has not yet chosen a successor and with no clear turnover of power at a time when their leader is at death’s door, Manji is at its most vulnerable. Opposing factions from within the boryokudan are all vying for the top seat. If we-” Iwaizumi pauses, becoming increasingly aware of Oikawa unzipping the alpha's pants and getting a grip on his cock. “If we chop off the head now, it will likely cause an internal war.” Oikawa’s wet folds have replaced his hands, rubbing onto Iwaizumi’s hard cock, dripping slick all over.
“And we,” Oikawa continues, “need to fan the flames of that war—mmmhm fuck” he punctuates the last word with a moan as he slides his folds on top of Iwaizumi’s cock.
It’s not difficult to figure out what the couple are up to, and what will come next. A nervous energy settles in the room, the six other council members scrambling to look elsewhere than the Oikawa humping their oyabun at the top seat, the omega’s dress hiked up to the top of his backside, giving any onlooker a glimpse of the slick dripping on Iwaizumi’s cock.
But despite their efforts, the men know this was a sight begging to be witnessed. The sight of their big boss staring lovingly at his omega, even while caught in a dirty act, is as disarming as ever. “We need to strike soon,” Iwaizumi says, holding his cock up for Oikawa to sink onto, eyes not leaving Oikawa. “And we cannot direct their attention to us,” Iwaizumi continues, letting out a small groan as Oikawa slowly drops his pussy onto the alpha’s hard cock.
“Oh my god… Alpha…” Oikawa moans into Iwaizumi’s lips as inch after inch of cock spears his walls. Iwaizumi’s lips devour Oikawa’s as he bottoms out into the omega.
Iwaizumi scoffs. “Look at you, so wet for me,” he says, uncaring of who might hear, every word accompanied by a hard thrust. “Ahhh… ahh!” Oikawa sounds absolutely debauched.
Iwaizumi smells lust radiating from each man in the room, the earlier nervous energy replaced with desire. Desire for the sexy omega in front of them. Iwaizumi smiles inwardly – they can all look at Oikawa, want him, need him, dream about fucking him like he’s doing now. But none of that matters to him because he’s the one Oikawa chose. He’s the one pounding into this intelligent, gorgeous sexy vixen of an omega, he’s the one making Oikawa scream, getting deeper into him, hitting his core repeatedly. It’s his seed that will take root in the omega. Iwaizumi holds on to this assurance like a badge of honor.
Sakurai is staring with an unreadable face, which only spurs Iwaizumi on. Iwaizumi knows Sakurai has always been into Oikawa, knows that what started as a small crush has developed into a sick fascination for the omega and has branched out into jealousy – against Iwaizumi, for bagging the omega he masturbates to every other night, for being chosen by Mizoguchi as the next oyabun, and for commanding the respect and adoration from the entire Seijoh syndicate that he never could.
There’s a loud thump as Iwaizumi lays Oikawa down on the table. Oikawa’s dress has bunched up to his chest, giving everyone in the room a clear view of his pink nipples, his lack of underwear, and Iwaizumi’s cock violently sliding in and out of Oikawa’s folds, drenched in slick, a knot slowly forming at the base. “Ahh! Hajime you feel so good… so good in me…” Oikawa moans, not minding the drool escaping from his mouth. Iwaizumi answers with short grunts. The strength of Iwaizumi's thrusts makes Oikawa slide against the table, but his hard grip on Oikawa’s thighs keeps the omega in place, the momentum allowing him to spear his cock back into the omega every time.
Both are aware, albeit vaguely, of how every council member in the room has their hands down their trousers. Sakurai gets his dick out of his pants, mouth agape as he shamelessly slides his hand up and down his member at the sight of Oikawa getting fucked.
Iwaizumi’s thrusts are getting slower but harder as his knot grows bigger. “Hajime! Alpha!” Oikawa screams, cupping a hand on his tit and caressing a nipple with his fingers. Iwaizumi slams his fully formed knot into the omega and Oikawa arches his back. Oikawa’s mind breaks as he comes, eyes unfocused, mouth open in pleasure. The utter bliss of his alpha cumming into him makes tears form in his eyes. Oikawa knows he’s never been the same since Iwaizumi’s cock first made home in his walls. “That’s right…” Oikawa moans. “Cum deep inside me,” he sighs.
Iwaizumi resumes with short and erratic thrusts while he cums in Oikawa, mouth locking with Oikawa’s to swallow his moans. “Gonna breed you,” Iwaizumi says dazedly. “You’ll look so fucking beautiful pregnant.”
The thought of one day carrying Iwaizumi’s pups produces a new wave of slick in Oikawa. There’s so much slick and cum trying to push out of his hole but Iwaizumi’s knot keeps them in place. “I will. I’d love that,” Oikawa says quietly, barely conscious.
When they catch their breath, Oikawa smiles gently and Iwaizumi returns the smile. There is pride in the look they share – pride at being able to satisfy the other, to be each other’s rock, no matter how absurd the situation.
Both are distracted by a moan coming from their left. Sakurai tries to keep his groans quiet but he barely succeeds as he comes in his hand.
Iwaizumi gathers Oikawa in his arms, sitting back on his chair while they’re still connected. Oikawa leans his head on the crook of Iwaizumi’s shoulder, too blissed out to notice the extremely flustered council members scrambling to zip their pants back up.
“I think we’ve all gotten a nice break,” Iwaizumi sneers, commanding everyone’s attention once again. He knows no one will dare interrupt him this time.
“Let’s get back to the plan.”