Chapter Text
“You seem off today,” Endeavor muses as you step into his office, letting the door slowly swing closed behind you.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you offer lamely.
You’re embarrassed at having been caught, especially by Endeavor of all people. You’ve been doing your best to keep it together, to get through the day just like you normally would, to be friendly and present. But the text you’d gotten from your boyfriend keeps pushing itself forward, branding itself into every dark corner of your brain so you can’t escape it.
‘She’s at work, please come over baby I want to see you’
The thought is enough to have bile burning at your throat, eyes stinging as you force back your tears.
How could he?
How dare he?
For two years you’ve loved and supported him and this is the thanks you get in return? Him inviting some other woman over to your apartment to fuck while you’re busy trying to be a hero.
You grit your teeth against the image of them fucking on your couch, on your bed. You wonder how many times you’ve come home and slept on soiled sheets, let him fuck you in the wake of his lie. It makes you want to burn it all down, to reduce it all to nothing but ash, them included, so there’s not even a trace left of them or their deceit.
“Why don’t you head home early,” he offers, shifting to lean back in his chair.
You look up enough to meet his eyes and you’re sure he must see the dampness in yours.
It’s not very often you see him without his mask of flames, but every time you do you’re startled by how handsome, and almost boyish his face is despite his age and the scar stretching across his skin. Sometimes you almost forget he’s human, he always seems so distant and untouchable. But it makes the moments like this, where you see him for what he really is, just a man, all the more impactful.
“That’s not necessary, sir,” you manage to keep your voice from trembling, but your fingernails are digging hard enough into your palms for it to hurt.
The thought of going home now only worsens the pressure behind your eyes, the tension clawing at your throat and you try to take a steadying breath through your nose to keep yourself together. Going home is the last thing in the world you want to do right now.
“You’re not useful if you’re emotional and distracted,” you wince slightly at the combination of bluntness of the words and gruffness of his voice.
You’d think you’d be used to it by now.
“I promise I’m fine, sir,” you try to assure him, holding his striking blue stare to try and convey your earnesty.
“Then why are you crying?” He frowns.
You’re not sure why the words make it harder for you to hold your tears back, throat squeezing hard enough for a moment it almost feels like you can’t quite breathe.
“I just found out my boyfriend … it doesn’t matter. I can handle it, sir,” your voice cracks slightly as you speak, jaw aching from having it clenched. “I swear.”
“Did he break up with you or something?” Endeavor stands as he speaks, your head tipping back to follow him as he rises.
“He-he’s cheating on me,” you finally pull your gaze away from his as your next blink pushes tears down your cheeks.
You’re overwhelmed by the shame of admitting it. It burns hot through you, searing at your chest. You know it’s not your fault but you still feel like an idiot, for not seeing it, for not knowing, for trusting him.
You feel betrayed, used, stupid.
You’re startled by the pressure of fingers against your jaw, tilting your head back enough to force you into meeting his eyes again.
You know he’s a large man, but being this close to him you’re struck by it, the way he completely dwarfs your frame. Your head barely even reaches his shoulder, neck craning almost uncomfortably to look him in the face. You feel overwhelmingly small, not even just from the physical size of him but his mien, back straight and shoulders square, chin high as he looks down at you in a way that feels domineering and authoritative.
His fingers are almost unbearably hot against your skin, torpified as you stare wide eyed up at him as his thumb brushes over the line of your jaw.
“Then he’s a fool,” it’s the quietest you’ve ever heard him speak, the low rumble of his voice making you shiver.
He tilts his head slightly, brows twitching slightly as he looks at you, thumb reaching up to smear the dampness of your tears over your skin.
“But you are pretty when you cry.”
You let out a stuttering exhale, body jolting slightly as you go dizzy at the admission. You clumsily try to form words, lips and tongue restless, but you can’t actually force enough air out of your chest to make a sound.
The corner of his mouth twists into the faintest hint of a smile, his hand shifting to grip more firmly at your jaw.
“He doesn’t deserve to have you cry over him,” his lips part slightly as he brushes his index finger over your lips which have finally stilled. “He doesn’t deserve to get to see you like this.”
“S-sir?” You finally manage to get out, unsteady and weak, and it’s music to his ears.
“I could make you cry instead,” Endeavor whispers, pulling you up to him as he bends.
You wince slightly at the tug on your sore jaw, leaning up on your toes to alleviate some of the pressure. His face is close enough now you can feel his breath on your tear stained cheeks, his eyes heavy and dark, pupils consuming the electric blue of his irises.
“But you have be a good girl and ask for it.”
You can’t stop the little gasp that leaves you, eyes going round as you stare up at him. Your face burns under his touch, calves beginning to ache from balancing on the balls of your feet.
The logical part of your brain knows this is fucked. Sure you find him attractive but he’s your boss, this could pose a huge potential risk to your career. Even if you leave it here, the fact that this interaction is happening is crossing several boundaries that are in place for very good reasons. So you know you should step away, you should go home and kick out your deadbeat boyfriend, and go about the rest of your life pretending this never even happened.
But another, far louder part of you, is begging you to cave. To submit, to let him have his way with you, to feel his hands and his mouth on your skin, to let him sear away any remaining traces of your boyfriend's traitorous touches. Somehow you know he would, know his domination would be complete and overwhelming and wonderful, leaving no room for anyone or anything other than him.
And you can’t think of anything you want more.
“Please,” you breathe, hands reaching up to curl loosely around his wrist as you lean into him to try and alleviate the strain on your legs.
His top lip twitches and you swear you see a faint stream of smoke, or steam trail from his nostrils as he exhales.
His mouth is hot against yours, groaning weakly as his fingers press harder into your jaw, forcing your mouth open for him. Your nerve endings hum beneath your skin as his tongue pushes against yours, pressing hard enough into you that you're able to drop back on your heels.
You're perfectly pliant in his hands, body arching and bowing exactly the way he guides you too. A hand presses into your back, pulling you into him, lifting you enough for you to hook your legs around his waist. His other hand slides into your hair, cradling your skull and making sure your head stays exactly where he wants it.
Your muffled gasp into his mouth has his half hard cock twitching against his thigh as he presses you into the wall.
He’s not sure how many times he’s thought about having you like this. Bending you over the nearest surface, ripping that skin tight uniform off your perfect little body, your sweet, desperate cries as he makes you come over and over again, stuffing your tight cunt full of his cum until you’re begging him to stop, using you until you’re too weak to do anything but take it.
Of course he’s never let them be anything more than fleeting fantasies, you're one of his employees and he knew you had a boyfriend. But you’re also young, and beautiful, and kind, and perfect and he’s just some sick, sad old man who, even in the best of circumstances, never would have dreamed you’d give him the time of day.
But now here you are, letting him crush you between him and the wall in his office where anyone could hear or see, your hands gripping at his shoulders as his fingers press into your hip, making the most wonderful noises as you try to catch your breath, your small ‘please’ echoing relentlessly in his brain.
He pulls away enough to look down at you and you greedily take the opportunity to try and gasp in air.
Your chest heaves, parted lips swollen and flushed and shining with saliva, your eyes glassy and heavy lidded as they meet his. His grip tightens enough to bruise and your rapid breathing stutters, hands fumbling to find purchase on his broad shoulder.
“Fuck, I’m going to ruin you,” he growls.
You quickly try to stifle the shocked sound that bubbles up your throat as he’s spinning away from the wall, crossing the space in only a few steps to press you down against his desk. He straightens over you, roughly tugging your uniform from your body, but still careful enough not to ruin anything.
He groans as he takes you in, completely bare beneath your suit. He had a feeling you would be, there’s no way you could hide a panty line under that thing.
“That’s what you want isn’t it, baby?” He lets his hands drag over your chest, palming at your exposed breasts, more than pleased with the way you arch up into him.
One of his hands pushes down, moving over your stomach, settling between your thighs, fingers brushing teasingly against you.
“For me to wreck this pretty little pussy?” He pushes a finger through your folds, dick throbbing at how wet you already are.
You let out a breathless swear at how big just his finger feels as it brushes against you, sliding up to rub slow circles against your clit.
You moan, eyes pressing closed as your hips buck up into his hand.
“I can’t give you what you want if you don’t answer me,” he huffs, his other hand coming down to press into you, holding your hips where he wants them as he continues his teasing.
“Y-yes, please, fuck, want to feel you inside,” you whine, chewing on your lip to try and keep yourself quiet.
“Oh, you’re not ready for my cock baby,” he chuckles as he shifts to slowly push a finger into you. “I’d tear your tight little body wide open.”
You press your head back into the desk, jaw dropping and eyes pressing closed at the slow stretch. You clamp a hand over your own mouth to try and muffle the low moan that leaves you as your walls flutter and squeeze around him.
He slowly works his finger in and out of you, watching the way you tremble and whimper as each push reaches deeper inside you until he slides in up to his knuckle.
You’re beginning to think you won’t be able to take him at all, just his finger already has you feeling so full, brushing up against spots inside you, you’re positive have never been touched before.
“You’re already shaking and I’ve barely even started,” he coos wickedly down at you. “I might be more than you can handle, little girl.”
You whine into your palm, knees knocking against his sides as you try to press your thighs closed against the overwhelming feeling.
He adjusts the position of his finger, gently pressing against your insides until he finds that little spot inside you that has your back arching and eyes rolling back, knees squeezing against his hips.
“Does it feel good, baby? Go ahead and come on my finger like a good little slut.” He rasps, the hand on your hip shifting to press low on your belly.
Your hand does little to silence the shout that tears from you, your entire body shuddering beneath him, unable to process anything but the almost painful tension pulling low in your gut, every muscle in your body pulling tight enough to snap as your orgasm breaks over you.
You pant, and gasp, and whimper into your hand as you come back down, blinking your vision back into focus. Endeavor’s hand stills against you, groaning at the way you squeeze and clench around his finger.
He tugs your hand away from your mouth as he pulls his finger out of you. He presses his finger to your lips and almost reflexively you let them part, allowing him to press down on your tongue, forcing you to taste yourself. You groan, gagging slightly as he hits your throat, hand coming up to grab at his wrist.
He’s relentless, pressing another finger into your mouth, hissing at the way your lips stretch around them. He massages at the back of your tongue until there are tears running down your temples from swallowing back against your gag reflex, chest aching as you struggle to get in enough air through your nose.
“Fuck, look at you,” he pants, adjusting his uniform with the hand not in your mouth to free his cock. “Being such a good girl for me.”
You make a weak sound around his fingers, watery eyes pressing closed as he strokes lazily at his cock.
“Can’t wait to fill your tight little pussy with my cock,” he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you gasp, coughing as you try to swallow the excess saliva that’s pooled against your tongue.
He presses his palm over his mouth, fingers digging into your face almost hard enough to hurt as he lines himself up with you, blunt head pressing against your slippery entrance. Your eyes widen, fingernails anchoring in the back of his hand as he slowly splits you open.
“Oh, I’m gonna’ fucking destroy you,” he groans, a puff of steam snaking between his lips as he exhales.
He watches your eyes roll back, toes curling and chest heaving as he fills you and it takes every ounce of self control he has to not just sink himself as deep as he can into you.
He moves slow enough that the stretch isn’t too painful, but god is it overwhelming. All you can feel, all you can see, all that exists is him. You barely even notice how hot his hand gets against your face, the touch almost scalding but it’s not even a whisper of a thought as his hips meet yours, head of his cock brushing up against your cervix. You squirm at the sensation, trying to pull away but his hand on your hip keeps you right where he wants you.
He pulls his hand away from your face, bringing it down to rub rough circles into your swollen clit and you wail.
“E-En-En-ji,” you sputter, eyes open but crossed and unseeing, face still wet with tears, spit running from the corner of your mouth, hands pawing weakly at his desk to try and find purchase on something.
“Fuck, you look perfect, you’re so perfect” he pants, gritting his teeth as your walls spasm around him. “Look so pretty stuffed with my cock baby. Bein’ so good for me.”
“S’too much,” you groan, thighs shaking against his hips, muscles in your abdomen twitching and tensing as you try to roll your hips.
“Shh, I got you baby, gonna’ take care of you,” he coos, no longer concerned with who might hear as you cry out, your body quivering through your second orgasm.
He swears under his breath, nearly doubling over with how tightly you squeeze around his cock, silky walls coaxing him to move as they ripple as if to pull him in deeper.
He pushes his hands up underneath your knees, hiking your thighs up parallel to his chest as he pulls slowly out of you before thrusting back in. A strained guttural sound spills from you as he sets a steady pace, watching with rapt attention as your belly bulges with each press into you. For a second he’s almost worried you’ve passed out as you go quiet, head lolling limply to the side, but your hands are still restless, blindly looking for something to hold on to.
He huffs another cloud of steam as he props your leg against his shoulder, reaching down to press down on your stomach again.
You sob, whimpering and crying as you writhe beneath him.
Impossibly, you feel even more full and you swear he’s in your chest, each thrust pushing the air sharply from your lungs. Everything is spinning and falling around you, the only thing concrete are his hands on your skin, and him buried so deep inside you’re a little afraid when he pulls out there will be nothing but a void left.
“So good baby girl, taking my cock so good,” he grunts, the added pressure quickly chipping away at his own resolve, thrusts becoming more erratic and sharp. “Need you to come one more time for me.”
All he gets in response is the most wonderful, pathetic sounding cry and he’s sure that if there’s a heaven this is what it must be like. Just you, like this, forever.
He brings his thumb down to rub at your oversensitive clit, each exhale now a cloud of steam as you tense beneath him. You whimper, more tears stinging at your eyes, body overwhelmed, and aching as he works you back up, nearly forces you back towards the edge.
You want to beg, to plead, anything to make him understand it’s too much , but each thrust wipes the slate of your mind completely blank as you try over, and over to form more than a word at a time. Only managing to get out stutters and gasps, and clumsy slurs of a few incoherent words running together as more tears spill hot over your cheeks.
“You’ve been so good for me baby,” he grounds out through his teeth, trying to hold himself back until you come undone. “Come for me, pretty girl.”
You groan, body going limp beneath him as you give in to your release, letting your burning eyes press closed as the waves tingle and ripple over your nerve endings.
“Fuck,” he hisses, burying himself as deep inside you as you’ll take him as he comes.
You whimper at the feeling of him filling you, cock pulsing and stuttering as if to make sure you get every last drop.
He lets your legs settle back around his waist, dropping to lean over you, propping himself up on his elbows.
He cups your face in his hand, brushing back your hair, wiping away your tears, and sweat, and spit as he watches you try to gather yourself.
But he’s still inside you and you still feel so full and you whine weakly, pushing against his chest.
“Too much, Enji please, need you out,” you gasp as you force your eyes open to meet his.
It’s nearly enough to have his softening cock twitching back to life but he figures he’s put you through enough for one day.
He tries to be careful, tries to move slowly but it’s still uncomfortable as he slides out of you, body now trying to adjust to feeling so achingly empty. You shiver as he pulls away from you, the air startlingly cold now that you're no longer engulfed in his stifling heat.
He spreads your thighs apart, watching his cum leak out of you, fighting back the desire to stuff it back inside of you, making sure none of it goes to waste.
Instead he cleans you up as gently as he can manage before wiping himself down and tucking himself back into his suit.He scoops you up against him before settling into his chair and you melt into the warm mass of him.
“You alright?” He asks, warm hands helping to burn away the aches and tension lingering in your muscles.
You nod against his chest, still trying to catch your breath.
“You can take the rest of the weekend off, sort out your personal matter,” his fingers brush up the length of your spine as he speaks and you shudder.
“Yes, sir,” you manage tiredly and he can’t help the self satisfied smile that pulls at his features.
He pulls you away from him and reluctantly you let him, doing your best to keep yourself upright as you look up at him. His eyes scan over your face, eyebrows pulling together slightly into a scowl as his lips part. You wait patiently, watching him fumble, trying to look for the right words to say whatever it is he wants to say to you, his hands still gentle and comforting against your skin.
He lets out a frustrated huff before barking out, “can I take you to dinner?”