Insufferable | Nick x MC (Patreon)

tw: dubcon (sorta), mild choking

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“Oh, please. You’re not actually mad at me for that, are you?” Nick asks you with a mocking laugh.

He’s been insufferable all day long. He outsmarted you in a small job and made you look like a fool, yet all he’s done since is laugh and tease while he followed you around until you made it back to your hotel room--a room he slipped in faster than you could close the door, obviously.

You wouldn’t purposefully let him into your room like that. It doesn’t matter how alluring the way his bright, blue eyes are when he stares at you. Or the stupid way his windswept dark hair falls on his forehead, making it seem as if someone had just tangled their fingers on his hair while they fucked against a wall. Or the annoying heat his smirk gives you.

You’re angry at him. Yes, very angry. And you won’t fall for his tricks tonight, you’re better than that.

Or so you hope.

“Tone down the eye fucking and answer me.”

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His breath brushes your face, and you blink to find he got off the couch and is now towering over you, with narrowed eyes and a smug smirk on his lips.

“I’m not eye fucking you, I’m eye murdering you for tricking me, Nicholas.” You glare at him with all your might, which honestly isn’t that strong when the musky scent of his cologne floods your lunges with every breath you take.

“Sounds like a lie,” he shrugs, unbothered by the harshness of your words.

If anything, you think his smile grows wider.

“Sounds like you should fuck off,” you snap, stabbing his chest with your index finger.

It infuriates you that he never seems to care, neither about you nor about the job. All he seems to be interested in is amusing himself, immediately dropping the object of his focus the moment he grows bored of it--and it terrifies you that he might do the same to you.

But when his smile fades and he grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against his chest, you wonder if the consequences of this particular gamble would really matter when the payout seems to be so good.

“You’re being such a fucking brat today.” His voice is a low growl against your lips, and it’s a struggle not to give in and close the infinitesimally small distance between you two to shut him up with a kiss.

“And you’re not getting the damn hint,” you scoff, trying to push him away with your hands on his chest, but all it does is make him chuckle. It’s a low, dark chuckle, and it makes your toes curl in ways you know they shouldn’t.

He holds your wrist tighter while his other hand squeezes your hips with enough force you’re sure you’ll get a bruise tomorrow, and the tingling pain you feel makes you bite down on your lips to try and muffle the low moan escaping your throat; a moan he doesn’t fail to notice.

“Trust me,” he hums. “I’m getting all the hints.”

And he kisses you.

You hate him. You hate what he did today and you try, almost pointlessly, to push him away once more, but it’s like trying to shove a boulder away. Chuckling under his breath, Nick kisses you harder. An intense kiss that, against your better judgement, you respond in kind.

Your hands grasp at his shirt, and he lets go of your wrist to tangle his fingers on your hair, tugging your head up to make you part your lips so he can fully take control of the kiss--of you.

Kissing Nicholas is...ravishing. You had wondered what it would be like before, but it’s so much better than you expected. It’s maddening, it’s intense, and his toned body flush against yours makes you desperate to tear away the thin layers of clothing keeping you two apart, to have him fuck you. All. Night. Long.

Nicholas Hunter is insufferably arrogant and smug. And he has clearly earned that right.

His fingers slide under the hem of your shirt, leaving a burning trail on your skin as he teases the waistband of your pants, and it drags yet another moan out of you.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Nick says as he breaks the kiss, staring at you through hooded eyes.

Your eyes dart to his lips, now slightly swollen from your kiss, and you lean in to kiss him again--but he pulls away, clicking his tongue while he wraps a hand around your neck and holds you in place. “I never said you could kiss me.”

He lightly squeezes the sides of your neck, the sensation making your lower stomach coil in anticipation of what the dark smile on his face promises to do to you if only you play your cards right.

God, you hate him. You hate how putty you are in his hands, how willing and behaved you unconsciously become under his touch. “I wasn’t asking for permission,” you reply in a low voice, mostly out of spite.

With a sharp raise from his eyebrows, he lets out a breathy chuckle, squeezing your throat harder as he starts walking and forces you to walk backwards to keep from falling. “It’s adorable how you act like such a little brat even when you’re all but begging me to fuck you.”

His thumb gently caresses the skin on your neck, in stark contrast to the ruthless way he toys with the pressure on your throat. You never break eye contact while he guides you further into your room, and your whole body is buzzing with a desperate need for release when the back of your knees hit your bed.

“This attitude of yours is fun and all, but…” Nick smirks, leaning in and running his tongue over your bottom lip before sharply tugging on it with his teeth.

Why doesn’t he just fucking kiss you again already? Honestly, this man is insufferable. And how badly you’re enjoying this sadistic little game is even worse, but you’re not going to be the one to put an end to it.

And it’s clear when he pushes you down on the bed and hovers on top of you, deftly unbuttoning your pants, that neither will he. “It’s time to teach you a lesson.”