letting off some steam - angell x (f)reader
basically a very pent up + frustrated angell returned home from an unsuccessful commission, and decided to use you to help her let off some of her steam.
smut fic so minors DNI. dom angell x sub female reader (can be interpreted as chief)
it was already past midnight and angell was still not back yet. you had already left everything ready for her: savory bowl of warm, red bean soup neatly placed atop the dining room table, bath water already quietly running, and clean, crisp linen sheets awaiting her tired, aching limbs.
yet she still hadn’t returned from today’s job. apparently, this commission posted on the dark web paid a pretty penny, yet for such a high reward, there was no doubt that the requirements for said job were sure to be incredibly grueling, high-stakes and undoubtedly dangerous. the last time she had actually taken a job like this one, she returned home completely battered and pummeled to the bone.
your teeth anxiously nibble at your bottom lip, aimlessly tugging at the skin. you had already settled yourself into bed, dressed in a fresh, silky nightgown and more than ready to fall asleep. yet you couldn’t.. not with angell gone. you couldn’t help but worry, even though you were well aware that she was more than capable of defending herself against any and every possible threat.
your fingers anxiously fiddle with the cotton material of her ivory bedsheets, brow furrowed in thought. yet your thoughts were cut short as the sound of the front door’s lock fiddling becomes clear, with the door swiftly opening and then slamming shut with a loud bang.
you hold your tongue. the sound of her annoyed grunts and agitated grumbles are crisp and clear, as sharp and deafening as her blade.
silence.. and then the sound of clattering rings out. angell had brusquely tossed her sword onto the floor, not bothering to slide it back into its sheath or carefully tuck it away beside the foot of the bed, like she always did. she always took extensive care of her sword, making sure to handle it with caution and properly tend to it when it required maintenance. yet all of that consideration seemed to be thrown out the window right now.
“fuck..” her curses are low and almost inaudible. her brows knit tightly with agitation, amber eyes cold with well concealed emotion. it seems that the job had not gone well.. or perhaps, it had resulted in her first unsatisfied client, a rarity for her.
most shocking of all, she trudges right past the bowl of red bean soup that had been patiently waiting for her. her feline-like gaze deliberately locks eyes with it, and despite her greater judgment, she lets out a disgruntled noise and ignores it. light footfalls trail out of the kitchen, heading straight towards your shared bedroom. it seems she was in absolutely no mood to eat or shower right now; she had to find you.
you stay completely still in bed, form propped up beneath the fluffy comforter. silence envelops you as you wait for those footsteps to reach you, before she finally barges into the bedroom with much haste.
and then you can finally get a good look at her
her eyes were dark, duller than normal. they were filled with anger, brimming irritation bubbling beneath the surface. her nose was lightly wrinkled, and her lips were curled grimly but evasively. the skin of her right cheek bore a small cut, accompanied by dried blood.
she wasn’t wearing her jacket or her harness, just her black, tattered tank and form fitted pants. she wastes absolutely no time, practically throwing herself onto you and pinning your wrists above your head as soon as she spots you.
“ang-mmphh..!” her slightly chapped lips crash onto yours, silencing your worried murmurs. the kiss is long, rough, and powerful, stealing all the air from inside your lungs in one swift movement. she slowly parts from you, eyes lidded with a silent rage that was so unlike her.
“don’t wanna talk about it.. just need to feel you.” is all she manages to raggedly get out, before making quick work of her clothes and then your own. she quickly strips herself of her outfit, and in the rapid haze of flying clothes do you realize that the putrid, metallic smell of blood is not clinging onto her like it usually does after a mission. nor is she covered in cuts or bruises.
you’re not given much time to question it before you feel a cool breeze of air brush against your lower body. your back instinctively arches with sensitivity, wrists still bound tightly above your head by one of angell’s strong hands. she was in that much of a rush, that she didn’t even bother with stripping you of your nightgown, but instead tore your panties off with one, loud rip.
“angell-!” your cries of protest quickly become moans of pleasure as you feel two of her long, dexterous fingers curl inside you. the rough, calloused pads of her fingertips instantly aim to find that spongy spot deep inside your cunt, and once they find it, she starts to abuse the hell out of it.
her fingers repeatedly slam insistently against that spot, golden eyes taking silent pleasure in the way your body jolts and thrashes against her, the way your eyes screw shut. she isn’t done though, letting out a soft hum before her head dips down in between your legs and her soft lips envelop your clit with a firm suck.
that’s all it takes to make you come undone, soft, high pitched moan tumbling down your lips as you come around her fingers. quiet little cries escape your lips as her fingers continue to pound into you despite your orgasm crashing down, your wetness splashing out from your cunt and the force of her prodding fingers.
her ring and middle finger deftly push out of you with a loud squelch, digits coated in slick translucence. she doesn’t bother to lick; she simply grips both your hips and flips you around to lay you on your stomach.
“w-what—” your words are quickly muffled into your pillow with a low grunt from angell, who may or may not have chosen this position just to keep you quiet. your face is buried into fabric while your back remains arched and your hips and butt are perfectly presented to her.
cold hands grip around the naked curves of your hips before you start to focus way less on how cold angell’s hands are and way more on how huge she feels inside you.
usually, she’s willing to prep you more before going in to fuck you, but with how pissed off she seemed to be, it’s clear she was only eager to let off some steam.
the tip of her strap lightly bumps against your clit, just once, before she slams all the way into you with all her force. she sets a brutal rhythm, strap rutting into you in one swift motion that manages to knock the air out of you. she was incredibly long, tip knocking at your cervix, and length so thick you felt like you were suffocating. yet you couldn’t revel in the pleasure for long, as she quickly pulls right out of you just to ram back into you again with all of her strength. you yelp, whimpering as you feel her slide in until her hips were pressed right up against the cleft of your ass.
maybe this was how she had such toned abs..
one hand keeps both your wrists pinned above your head, the other keeps a bruising grip over your left hip. with every slap of skin against skin, her low groans mix in with your breathy cries. despite exhaustion nipping at her tired muscles and aching bones, she needed to feel you underneath her. needed to feel you squirming underneath her, your face contorting with pleasure, eyes rolling back into your skull and jaw falling open. something akin to a quiet moan escapes her, a certain fire beginning to burn low in her belly, the emblems of her growing arousal.
“heh.. can’t believe i let.. that order end that way…” her mumbles are interrupted by each of her thrusts, brow laced with sweat and wrinkled with focus. amidst your hazy cloud of pleasure, you manage to make out her sardonic words, the mocking smile curved onto her lips as she works overtime to drill you into the bed; to forget about her first unsuccessful commission. her fingers tighten their grip around your wrists, her hips gyrating in a particularly deep thrust that causes you both to stutter.
your pleasured cry rings out as the thick tip of her strap rubs against your spongy spot, your back bowing against her breasts and abs. she groans, burying her face into your neck with a newfound determination fueled by both her annoyance at her failed mission and her eagerness to feel you come around her. a sneaky hand slithers down your belly, two deft fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with her mean thrusts. you sob, lightly muffled into the pillow while her free hand tightens its cruel grip on your hip. despite the jolting sting in both your hips and your wrists from her painful grip, your body was singing with pleasure. and she could tell, redoubling her efforts until you form jolts in signature fashion of an impending orgasm.
you fall into a silent scream, coming around her and failing limply onto the bed. her hips never cease their movements, cruelly pounding into you with no mercy, despite your garbled cries. her eyes faintly glimmer with satisfaction, a small pause in her movements.
perhaps pounding you into her mattress was a much more satisfying conclusion to her night than a few discoins in her pocket would ever be.
