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Outlet for Frustration

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Shouta’s in a bad mood and you can feel it the moment he walks in the room.

The school’s been attacked again. His students have been put in danger again. And that meant speaking with the press again, where he has to play nice with the media and waste time shaving and fighting his hair into submission and wearing that suit he always looked so good in. He makes it home afterwards in record time, slamming the door behind him and yanking out the bun you’d helped him style this morning, stubble already returning after only a few hours. His frustration is palpable, practically rolling off of him like electricity. You can tell he needs an outlet for it all or he’s going to boil over any minute now, and you don’t hesitate to offer yourself to the task.

“Come here,” you say gently, taking your boyfriend’s larger hand in yours to lead him back to the bedroom. Aizawa pulls off his jacket to toss it into the hamper, he’ll sort it out for dry cleaning later, but you take it from him first. “I forgot to do the laundry,” you admit. His eyes narrow slightly; the hamper’s empty and he can see the fresh clothes in the closet, why are you lying? You hold his gaze for a moment before looking away in faux-shyness. “I’m sorry, sir.” Oh. He realizes what you’re doing now. How did he ever get so lucky to have you?

“What’s your safe word?” he reminds you, reaching up to cup your cheek in his palm, thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

You don’t hesitate. “Apricot,” you confirm, feeling his fingers twitch against your skin. This game of yours has begun.

“Good girl.” His hand moves down and without warning rips the front of your shirt open. “I’m going to punish you. Understand?”

You nod. “I’ve earned it.” You don’t miss the grin that appears on his face for only a moment before he resumes his stern expression. Shouta tosses  your shirt to the floor and his hands are all over you, tugging the rest of your clothes off until you’re naked in front of him. You don’t resist when he pulls off his tie and uses it to bind your hands securely. You stand motionless in front of him, presenting yourself for his use.

He sits down on the bed and drinks in the sight of your body. “You were having fun before I got home, weren’t you?” he asks, noticing the wetness already between your legs.

“Yes. I...” You clear your throat, pressing your thighs together. “I was watching you, during your interview. You looked so good, I couldn’t help it.”

There’s a chuckle deep in his throat. “Dirty kitten.” He beckons you over. “Here, on my lap.” Your arms still tied together, you’re thankful for his assistance as he positions you in front of him. You’re on your stomach, stretched out over his legs with your top half resting on the bed. You know where this is going and excitement flows through your veins. “How many?” he asks simply, fingers trailing down your spine to bring a shiver through your body.

You swallow. “However many you want.”

This time he can’t hide the smirk that spreads across his mouth. “Twenty for the laundry…” You feel a rough hand squeeze your ass. “...and ten for touching yourself without me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, practically fidgeting with anticipation.

“Count for me,” he orders, hand leaving your body.

You take a deep breath. “Yes, sir-AH!” You’re caught off-guard by the first smack against your ass. You weren’t expecting him to start out quite so hard and it takes your breath away. “O-one,” you stammer into the mattress. Shouta takes notice and you’re briefly comforted by his large, warm hand rubbing gently over the red mark he left on your skin. Even this wired up and agitated, your boyfriend isn’t a cruel man, and the following slap to your opposite cheek is a little kinder, with slightly less force behind it. “Two,” you call out, handling it better this time. Again, you feel his soothing caress on your body where he’s just struck. It continues like this for a bit, the man above you switching between the two sides, alternating his strength with each blow and making a point to rub your heated flesh between spanks.

You can feel his cock growing hard against your side with every swing of his arm, and you wonder if your own juices are dripping out of you onto his suit. “Ten,” your breathe out another number, squirming in his lap, and he has to take a break from punishing you to trail one of those skillful fingers lower to graze over your cunt. You can’t stop the moan he brings when he slips it inside you, pumping a few times just to tease you, and he relishes the noises you’re making. It’s true that sometimes he gets off on tying you up, controlling your body and leaving your form raw and red and aching, but he wouldn’t be interested in it if you weren’t abundantly clear about how much you enjoy being his plaything. His lovely little toy to carefully abuse whenever he needs.

He adds another finger into you and your pussy clenches greedily around them. You’re so transparent with your desires he’s almost tempted to oblige you now and let his hand fuck you to orgasm, but you still have a job to do. “Kitten, you’re being punished,” he reminds you as he withdraws, ignoring the impatient whine out of your mouth. “Count,” he demands again.

Shouta’s next strike is another harsh one, so rough it nearly forces you off of him. “Ele...ven!” you squeal, tilting your hips so he has better access to soothe his latest attack. His other arm comes down on your back to hold you in place and put a stop to your squirming. He’s getting more firm with every slap, drawing louder gasps and cries from you each time and his dick twitches with the promise of burying inside you soon. When you reach twenty he’s kind enough to give you another break, fingers darting between your legs again.

“You’re doing so good,” he hums, moving to circle your clit. You buck against his hand, so distracted you almost miss his next words. “You’re almost done, one more set and then I’ll fuck you nice and hard like you deserve.” You let out a whimper of pure need, absolutely desperate for more attention only to be denied yet again. He doesn’t give you time to prepare after that and resumes the spanking before you can find your voice. All you can muster is a shaky groan that’s nowhere near good enough. “Count properly,” he threatens, “or we’ll start over.”

You shake your head frantically; the thought of going any longer without his cock is torture. “Tw...twenty-one,” you choke out.

“That’s it, kitten.” The next smack is harsher, the one after that even worse. Your sex-rattled mind can’t recognize that he’s building up to a brutal finish.

“Twenty-niiiine.” You may be on the verge of tears, but the idea of using your safe word never enters you brain. Just one more…

“Thirty,” Aizawa finishes for you, a small warning before he comes down harder on you than he has all night, the sound of it ringing in your ears. There’s a brief moment, a fraction of a second before your brain registers the feeling.

FUCK, Shouta!” You struggle to keep from screaming the words, gasping through the pain and thrashing at the tie wrapped around your arms. He lightly strokes your back through it, staying away from your raw skin while he gives you time to recover. Once your breathing returns to normal he carefully lays you on the bed, freeing your wrists in the process. You stretch your limbs in front of you and take sight of the red lines decorating them; he could have avoided marking you up like this, but you’d known from the start that he would and you allowed it. You feel a kiss on the back of your neck, stubble grazing your spine as his mouth draws a line down to your waist.

“You took it so well,” he strokes your hair affectionately. “We can stop if you want,” he offers quietly. Your ass still stings, your cheeks red and burning from all the abuse, but you crane your neck to look back at him.

“I want it,” you assure him. “Fuck me nice and hard.”

You don’t have to ask twice. His hands are on your hips, pulling you up to admire his handiwork before you hear the zipper of his pants open and a moment later, the thick head of his dick is pressing into you. You’re completely soaked, he’s able to hilt himself deep in your pussy after only a few thrusts. His pelvis rests flush against your sensitive ass, fabric scraping harshly against it with every stroke. True to his word, the pace he sets is ruthless and the headboard slams violently against the wall with every movement. There’s a possessive feeling in his chest as he watches you writhe on the mattress, a frenzied need to be even closer. You’re already being brutally filled with his cock over and over, the sudden weight of his chest against your back is practically overwhelming as he stretches over you, pinning down your wrists and trapping you completely.

“Take it,” he growls in your ear, so deep and husky he hardly sounds human. “You’re mine, kitten. Mine to tease and fuck and wreck, aren’t you?”

You’re not sure how you can even speak. “Y-yeah. It hurts, it’s good, please-” You don’t even know what you’re asking for. His laugh is sharp, squeezing tighter on your arms until you cry out. He knows neither of you are going to last long tonight, you’re both too wound up from your spanking to control yourselves. You’re so close, he can feel it in the way your pussy is gripping him like a vise each time he ruts into you. Aizawa releases you to adjust his position, giving himself enough room to reach beneath you and brush mercilessly over your clit. “Ohhh. Shouta, please...” you whimper, losing your mind under his skillful attention. It’s all too much, and only a few seconds later you’re clinging to the mattress, trying unsuccessfully to hide the wail he drags out of your overstimulated body. He doesn’t hold out much more, flooding your trembling cunt with his cum with one final, light slap for good measure.

Shouta takes a moment to catch his breath before pulling out. All the stress from the past few days has drained out of him and he’s aware of just how exhausted he is. Sleep will have to wait a bit, he has important business to take care of first. You’re vaguely aware of him heading to the bathroom and he returns after stripping down to his underwear and carrying a bottle of lotion. “You’re so good to me,” he cooes, gently rubbing the cream into your marred skin. “I really don’t deserve you,” he admits as he drapes a warm towel over the area to soothe your aches. He may have gotten a bit carried away; you’re going to be sore later and sitting might present some challenges tomorrow, but you’d accepted it all without complaint. The things you do for love...

“Mmm, that’s good,” you murmur tiredly, voice thick with drowsiness. He smiles fondly and runs a hand through your messy hair. Taking care to disturb you as little as possible, he pulls aside blankets to lay down in bed then helps you up to rest against his chest. “Do you feel better?”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, I really do. Thank you.” He turns out the lamp, leaving you two in darkness with nothing but the sound of each other’s breathing to lull you to sleep.