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A resounding slap echoes like it's bouncing across the walls, determined to come back to your ears. Hate fueled, nails extended like a cat ready to pounce. The last nerve Porco was standing on has snapped — you have snapped .
By the time his head reels back to you the look in his eyes is not something you expected. You expected hate, a hand flying back for revenge or more abhorrence of your existence spilling from his mouth.
But instead, it's a mixing pot of emotions.
The hate is definitely still there, but at the forefront of his eyes you see surprise. The deeper you dive the more confused you get because there is something much more primal there. Much more raunchy.
Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you just let out a quick laugh. "You're turned on because of this?" You probably look wide-eyed and crazy but it is fitting of this situation.
His mind and thoughts are staggering, the sting in his cheek feels like it radiates through his body. You must have slapped him stupid, that's the only way he can feel like this, right? That's the only way he can be turned on right now, if his brain cells were slapped out of him, right? Thoughts and feelings tripping over embarrassment then guilt than getting stuck on ... what even is that? It's a deep dark desire. A desire for more, more stinging, more slapping, a craving for something else more painful, deep in his gut that he tries to push down. But the more he tries not to think about it the more it plagues him.
He probably looks like a startled cat in heat — crazy, hair disheveled and sticking out and up, a red infliction on his cheek from how hard you slapped him, and the most surprising part for the both of you is the slowly growing bulge in his pants.
There's an overwhelming heat of embarrassment creeping over his body starting from his groin to the tips of his ears. He shouldn't like this, he knows he shouldn't. Especially in this type of situation, especially from you .
But the need for more, a lusty heady feeling taking over his head says " I bet if you ask real nice she'll do it again ."
He’s blinking at you like a deer caught in headlights, your gaze stabbing him in place, freezing him.
It's tempting, a forbidden fruit that he's never tried due to being conditioned that it's bad, horrible, a deplorable path to walk on. He's horrible if he likes this, he's bad if he likes this. It’s hanging over him ready to be plucked, ripe for eating all he needs to do-
Why are you still standing there with a sadistic smile on your face? You will be the first to admit that hitting him felt good, relieving like all your muscles tightened and relaxed all at once. The weeks of him bugging you, bullying, tormenting you almost every single day felt like it has finally paid off. You have some sort of tunnel vision, a predator’s gaze that settles on him and blurs everything around you. He looks pitiful. Vulnerable . You lick your lips.
"Do it again," it's a small voice, barely above a whisper, " please ."
Even he is surprised he was able to find his voice, he did say please. So you reel your hand back again and swing . If the first slap hurt then this one was rattling, shocks of pleasure spiking through his skin.
That’s what sends his hands to your hips so quick, adrenaline pushing the both of you to tangle in one another’s hold, lips locking in what you wouldn’t exactly call a kiss. Too much teeth and biting, pathetic panting swapped between the two of you while hands dig painfully into your skin.
You push a hand onto his throat, otherwise, you’d doubt he’d be able to stop chasing your lips.
“You’re pitiful Porco,” he’s whimpering and nodding in your hold, cheeks a stinging pink while he tries to keep your hips flush to his pelvis. A kicked puppy is what he resembles, puppy dog eyes but ferality seeping through. Wanting to bite back but begging all the same. It's euphoric how you can turn a tormentor into the tormented so quickly.
It’s a mess how you two make it to the couch, clothes torn off bodies, the sound of ripping fabric that neither of you can hear at the moment. Ignoring how the couch creaks with the roughness you’re handling each other just as you ignore how your teeth clack and lips pinch. Greedy fingers trailing on heated skin and you pause, only for a second to drink him in.
Lips slick and swollen, cheek flushed with how hard you hit him and almost able to see your handprint while he’s panting. Eyes begging and hair fallen completely out of place with your rough tugs. This is exactly how you prefer him. Malleable underneath you and begging for your touch even if it’s unkind rather than dancing on your last nerve.
Ah, and the way he clenches his teeth, blush rising far over the plains of his chest to his ears. Seeing him so frustrated is so cute and you look like the cat who got a lucky hunt, teeth looking all too sharp.
“What do you want?”
You’re playing coy and he hates it just as much as he loves it, blood rushed to his cock so quickly you can feel it jump against your thigh when you speak.
His teeth feel like they’re cracking, but nonetheless, he meets your satisfied gaze, “you… please .”
At least he knows his manners now . Humming in satisfaction while you trial a nail over his rosy and abused cheek.
"You look pretty in pink..." you grind down onto him, cock sliding clumsily between your folds, " you'd look better in red. "
He’s cursing underneath his breath as you let his flushed cock enter you, slick folds framing it perfectly as he moans pitifully against the couch. Loosing himself from all the primal feelings running through his veins, making him more and more pliant underneath you by the second. Mind jumbled and reeling, he’s babbling out, “then make me red, fuck- ” your hips roll down onto his, “p-please, do whatever you want.”
What a good and obedient boy toy. Despite his grabby hands on your hips and thighs, he’s taking everything you give him. Including the nails down his chest, catching painfully on his peaked nipple and you watch his eyes roll back. You drag one of his hands to rest right at your clit, directing his thumb to press into it and slowly draw circles. The least he could do after getting on your nerves for so long is to get on the right ones.
Toes curling painfully tight against the floor as you bounce on him, cunt wrapping around his surprisingly filling cock in such a tight grip it sends him gasping. The burn in your thighs feels like nothing compared to the mix of adrenaline dancing with euphoria through your veins. Orgasm approaching surprisingly quick while Porco’s head crashes into your chest, thumb stuttering against your clit.
With a tight grip in his hair, you pull his head back harshly, him keening at the sharp tug and how your insides seemingly flutter at the sight of him. You caress a thumb over his abused cheek, pulling your eyebrows together in question and he just nods, leaning into your hand before you pull it back.
He braces himself one last time and it feels like your own orgasm rolls over your stomach as you bring your hand down on his cheek. Right when your palm connects to his own skin the burn travels straight to his cock — painting your insides white while you two sit breathless, weight of the event settling into both of you.
What are you even supposed to say after you fuck your angry moody roommate and slapped him while doing so?
Sigh . The burn in your thighs rushes back as you shimmy off his lap, cum sliding out in viscous droplets down your leg and his own thighs. You get up on shaky legs, hand wrapped around his wrist to pull him behind you. Obediently he follows, partially because he’s curious because what he’d expected if this ever happened would be for you to leave him in the dust.
“Bath,” you tilt your head, eyeing him and when he just tilts his head curiously you glare until he scrambles into the tub. Curled into a tired ball against the smooth tub walls while you pee. He wants to ask questions and set things straight between the two of you but his mind feels like it’s resting on velvet, the waves of pain turning into a physical comfort to keep him in a floaty headspace. He doesn’t even realize you left for a few minutes which only felt like a few seconds to him but was apparently enough time to make tea for the both of you.
It’s the cold water of the starting bath hitting his toes that brings him back to reality, sinking into a tighter ball but accepting the tea you prepared for him while bubbling water rises to his chest. Through your time living with him, you know how he meticulously makes his tea since he is picky in what he consumes.
You sit opposite him when the tub fills up a decent amount, letting the warm water wash over you as Porco sips on his tea, avoiding your eyes until he finally sinks into the sweet smelling bath.
There’s a lot to talk about but right now he’s enjoying the way you playfully bump your leg into his and how sweet you look when you hum over your tea, cooing about how good it is.
“By the way, I know you’ve stolen at least two of my panties.”