Work Text:
it's never exactly pleasant when he leaves.
it's the same shebang every time: he gets up way too goddamn early, leaves without a word, and you wake up alone.
it's not like you don't know he's leaving. he's gone more often than not.
but sometimes, it's just miserable. it's not your fault you're always in the mood.
actually? you blame him for that.
so when you wake up and reach for his side of the bed with nothing short of vile intentions, you're pissed to find him gone.
but, again, you knew he wouldn't be here this morning when you woke up.
~~~
the best part about him leaving?
him coming home.
the second you walk in the front door and hear the showerhead running, you kick your shoes off and bolt. down the hall, through the bedroom, into the bathroom-
it's probably not the best idea you've ever had, but you're not particularly concerned about it when you open the shower door and step in, fully clothed.
he barely turns to face you by time you're wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you, and crashing his lips to yours.
he's not prepared for you to then jump up on him so suddenly, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to him like the world depends on it. his hands come to hold you up, one on your hip and the other on your ass, over your work clothes.
he presses you up against the wall without hesitation, and you're shamelessly trying to grind against him, to find any kind of friction, any at all, to no avail.
you whine, defeated, when it doesn't work out in your favor. he pulls back to look down at you, to take in the fact that you actually got into the shower while still in your clothes.
"seriously?" he grumbles.
"shut up and fuck me," you retort, trying to pull at his neck to get him to kiss you again.
"horny idiot," he mumbles back before giving in and kissing you once more.
his hand on your ass searches for the zipper at the back of your skirt, inching it down before forcing your legs off his waist so you're standing on your own two feet. he doesn't break the kiss as he pushes the fabric off your hips and down your legs, but you have other ideas, too focused on getting your hands on him.
he almost chokes when he feels you wrap your hand around his cock, trying frantically to stroke him, just to do something to satiate your burning need for him. you're so wound up, your body moves faster than your mind can follow, and you're getting to your knees on the hard tile floor before you can think about what you're doing.
his hands plant themselves on the wall, awkwardly hunched over, and it's a miracle he's not tripping over as the water still splays over the both of you.
"wanna feel it," is all you tell him before you're taking him in your mouth, and he gets the message. his flesh hand comes to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth down on him further, while his metal hand continues to support his weight against the wall.
"needy little slut," he groans, voice rough, gritting his teeth to try and keep a grip on himself. he uses his hand on your head to move you against him, forcing himself down your throat.
"come on, take it," he hisses. your whines are so high-pitched and loud, and he can feel every single noise you're making. tears are falling down the side of your face by now, saliva dripping down your chin.
he glances down to see you with your hands in your underwear, desperately trying to get yourself off while he uses your mouth as he pleases.
"fuck," he groans, pulling back and bringing his hands to your arms, hoisting you to your feet in front of him. and, god, you're still grabbing at him and trying to cling to any and every part of him that you can reach.
seeing you like this might be the hottest thing he's ever seen.
he shuts the water off and pushes your hands off him so he can discard the rest of your soaked-through clothes. he picks you up and walks you back to the bedroom, all the while you're clawing at his back, digging your nails in deep while sinking your teeth into his neck.
you're so uninhibited, and he loves it, silently getting off on the pain you're inflicting upon him.
next thing you know, you're lying on the sheets, and his metal hand is coming to wrap around your neck. he grips you tightly, pinning you to the bed this way, his other hand slotting itself between your legs.
"been this desperate all day?" he taunts, his fingers easily reaching a spot inside you, deeper than you've ever found yourself.
"ever since you left," you begin to ramble, "woke up that morning, you were gone, almost ripped my own hair out. fuck, come on, harder," you plead with him.
he does as you ask, gripping your throat tighter, and the fuzzy feeling heightens.
"please. please," you beg him, barely able to get the words out. "need you."
he can feel how your heart races, can feel the way you're holding onto him tighter than ever before, all while your eyes are pinched shut so tightly.
in any other case, you'd look like you were in pain.
but in this context, he knows you're just dying for him to fuck you.
"that's right, you're gonna fucking take what I give you," he grits, shoving your thighs apart and fitting himself between them. "cause that's what sluts like you are made for."
you're trying so hard to bring your hips to his, trying to seek him out, but his flesh hand comes to press down against your lower abdomen. "stay," he orders.
you're not even listening to a word he says at this point. his hand presses firmer against you, forcing your body to stay still, and then he's finally splitting you open on his cock the way you've been waiting for.
you practically scream at the feeling, the way he doesn't even give you a second to adjust before he's giving it to you hard, and fast, and, oh-
you finally calm down. he can tell the instant you give in to him, letting yourself be used and railed into oblivion as such, no longer squirming helplessly underneath him.
he keeps his hand on your abdomen, looking down to where his flesh meets yours. "feel how deep I am, huh?"
you're so gone that you don't hear what he's saying, so drunk on the pleasure that nothing else matters. he loosens his grip around your throat.
your breathing suddenly becomes so much heavier, and the fuzzy feeling in your head starts to fade.
"nuh-uh, you're staying right here with me. gonna feel everything," he hisses in your ear. your mind finally catches up with what he's telling you, and look down to where he's pressing his hand into your stomach.
"feel that? that's where I fucking belong," he growls, and you whine, again.
"gotta let me come," you plead, and you anticipate that he's going to hold this out, torture you for a little while longer.
"lemme have it," he says, surprising you, and his motions come to be far less rhythmic and a lot more desperate as he gets closer.
you're crying out, your face buried in his shoulder, and then it hits.
the drop is nothing short of perfect.
you're heaving, trying to collect yourself as he buries himself in you one last time before moaning your name and letting go inside you.
he collapses on top of you without pulling out, and you decide you can withstand his full weight on top of you for a few minutes.
"again?"