rabbit

I’m gonna rip my hair out.

Bother

- Detective Loki

This gif makes me cum sorry

Summary: Seeing you talk back to him, David gets more bothered than he should, in ways he definitely shouldn’t.

Warnings: arguing, degradation, groping, semi public sex, mirror sex, change of dynamics, David is pathetic, piv sex, unprotected sex.

Word count: 1379

Notes: Hey, so this is ass. I still wanted to give this a try even though I’m not very good at writing mean characters. Hope you find it alright still xx :)

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If there was one thing David liked, it was being in control. Or at least feeling like he was. However, this didn’t mean that he never lost it.

Working for him entailed being bossed around a lot. There was never a moment to catch your breath, but continuous tasks, one after the other, for 8 hours straight. File this paper, call that department, email the forensics, go through the CCTV footage, copy this transcript. Through all of this, David remained stoic and stern, even though his wandering eyes told another story.

This way of work didn’t usually bother you; in fact, it was nice not being bored. But on bad days, God, you wanted to rip David’s head off. And if he got frustrated enough, his clothes too. On this particular day, you couldn’t make yourself do anything but stare at the wall and linger by the coffee machine. It got on David’s nerves; it was obvious by the way his forehead vein showed with the clenching of his jaw. With his work ethic, he couldn’t wrap his head around your slacking. He also couldn’t wrap his head around why this made him want to push you up against the wall instead of slamming your head into it. The latter bothered him the most.

“You didn’t send out that email,” he pointed out when you came back from the coffee machine, again, cup in hand. “Sorry, I’ll get to it. Just tired today,” you excused yourself; he didn’t seem to care. You weren’t weak, but getting told off felt horrible, so you complied. “We’re all tired today,” he mumbled back as if to say, ‘I don’t care if you’re tired. Do your job.’

You sat back down in the uncomfortable office chair, put your coffee on the desk, and opened your computer back up. Dear Pavlikovsky,. Regarding the skin cells collected from the steering wheel in the Finch case… You could finally think of words and actually put them into text. But life wasn’t going to be that easy, so to even it out, your elbow knocked your coffee cup over, spilling its contents across your desk before you were able to catch it. “Jesus Christ,” David sighed, “Can you do anything?” Like you needed to hear that, like you weren’t already pissed off at yourself and him. “I’m trying here!” you said back, accidentally raising your voice at him. He didn’t like that, not at all. “Yeah? Well, you should try harder,” he countered, matching your volume.

This was your final straw. You got up and left the room, making a straight line for the restrooms. Fuck this job, fuck David, and fuck Pavlikovsky. You pushed the door open and stepped into the tiled room. All the stalls were empty this time of day, thank God. You turned on the sink before splashing your face with water, drying it, and sighing. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, trying to collect yourself. 1, 2, 3, 4… But then the door opened, which was weird since you were the only woman left.

“Hey, no need to barge out like that.” Sigh. His voice was lower, but neither kinder nor calmer. “Why not?” You looked at him through the mirror, and for once he didn’t look like a dictator waiting to point fingers. “Because I like to be respected,” he explained while stepping forward, standing a foot behind you. He looked down on you in the reflection, with his arms crossed and eyes blinking compulsively from frustration. “Why should I respect you if you don’t even like me?” Maybe you should have kept quiet, but it was time to rip off the band-aid anyway. He snickered at this, at you. “I don’t dislike you.” David felt himself abandoning his morals as he took a step forward, pressing his crotch against you. “But I can’t stand you constantly disrupting me.”

Why he did this, he had no idea. Or he knew why he wanted to; he just didn’t understand how he could have. But as you had abandoned your tasks and disrespected his orders, his mind had gone elsewhere while his blood rushed to his groin. Control was slipping away.

It took a second for you to register what was happening, widening your eyes once you realized that your laziness wasn’t going to be punished but rewarded. You weren’t complaining about the change of events, not at all. In fact, this might get you back on track. Seeing this authoritative man fighting to keep his composure had arousal swirling in your stomach. His nostrils flared as his breathing deepened, seeing his crotch pressed up against you.

“I won’t stop you,” you admitted even though you still had some anger lingering. David looked relieved for a moment, a rare sighting. He placed one of his hands on your ass, making you lean your upper body against the sink and press back up against his erection. “Do you always slut yourself out like this?” he asked you, but didn’t back off. Instead, He pulled your pants down and squeezed the exposed skin.

Even though you had a hard time understanding his thought process, you didn’t question him. Especially when you saw him undo his pants in the reflection. You weren’t going to ruin this. You backed up against him once again. He hummed quietly through gritted teeth, still trying to maintain control.

“You did this,” he pointed out; it almost sounded like a threat, before pulling your panties down. The sight stirred him up, made him twitch in his boxers. He ran a finger through your folds, scoffing at your wetness, making you blush with embarrassment. He pulled his cock out, stroking it a few times before lining himself up. His breath grew shaky when your wetness warmed his tip; his eyelids even fluttered. He was slipping out of it.

He pushed in and whimpered like a bitch as your warmth hugged him. You couldn’t help but grin to yourself. You weren’t the slut here; he was. Getting riled up seeing you pissed off and then following you to the bathroom, hoping he would be granted some relief, that's pathetic.

He was moving inside of you slowly, too slowly. Realizing how weak he was made you take the wheel. So you pushed yourself onto his cock, without warning or concern. His nails dug into your hips as he whined at your sudden move. His mind kept telling him to keep his focus, to not lose himself. But he did. He was expecting to fuck you, not to be fucked. His plan had crumbled.

His hips made weak thrusts as you fucked yourself on him, mindlessly moving. The view in the mirror made your stamina feel infinite. His furrowed brows and slack jaw. And the cries spilling from his mouth were like a drug, making everything electric and your brain fuzzy. David thought he was going to melt into a puddle; he hadn’t had sex in so long he had forgotten how fucking good it could be.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he mewled and gripped your skin tighter, forgetting how strong he was even when he was being pathetic. His hands would come to leave purple bruises on your hips. “You’re a weird fucking guy, David.” You scoffed as you tried to keep your tone strict amidst your struggling breaths. To your surprise, David’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your words. Regret built in him, which for some reason made his arousal do the same, making him feel even more ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled in his strained, high-pitched, whiny voice.

You upped your pace, making him fully moan. His noises bounced off the cold tile, echoing through the room. His hair was a mess; strands were falling down over his face. You almost felt proud, betting very few people ever got to see David like this.