Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
707 x Mc
Stats:
Published:
2016-09-23
Words:
1,177
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
16
Kudos:
1,351
Bookmarks:
110
Hits:
40,839

His Personal Stress-toy

Summary:

707 is fantastic at coding, but sometimes he gets far too into it and forgets what's sitting right on his lap.

Work Text:

The harsh glare of the screen was the only light in the room. It flashed between blue and white as the rich hacker worked his magic. There was a hypnotic quality to watching Seven type, hands moving like lightning as the code scrolled and compiled. What was more intoxicating was that you were sitting on his lap while he did it, feeling him breathe. You could actually feel every slight murmur of his voice as he muttered to himself.

The code he was working on was complex and beyond you especially at the speed he was working. He mumbled under his breath about things not working. He seemed a little upset, his hands tensing, but you didn't want to move in case you bothered him.
You debated moving for a good long second, but he moved first. His hand dropped down, presumably to rub his leg, instead finding yours. He squeezed you hard enough to make your eyes widen before running his fingers down your skin. Before you comprehended what had happened he let go and returned to his code. You listened, waiting for a response, but he made no sound. He did seem more relaxed and his typing was more fluid, though...
You were pondering this for a moment, watching his fingers, when his hand moved again. This time it reached down to grab your hip, giving it a firm squeeze. You felt you should move to look at him or say something, but you knew it would break the spell. So you sat, waiting for him to return to his coding.

The moment where he stopped never came, his left hand instead moving around to your front. It came to rest just above your bellybutton and he gave you a small squeeze. His other hand was still typing, his focus still on the screen to your knowledge.
Your breath quickened as he moved his hand, sliding it up underneath your top, the palm hot against your skin. His breathing was still normal, his typing fast, his other hand exploring the supple, soft skin of your chest as he concentrated. It was like you were a living stress ball for him, something for him to touch and hold to help him concentration. Indeed, he grabbed you hardest whenever he encountered a bug he couldn't fix, his hot hands making you want to gasp, to cry out.

As he grasped at your breasts you couldn't help but squirm, eliciting a murmur of disapproval. He didn't seem to like that kind of distraction while he was busy coding. His hand dropped down and, for a moment, you thought you'd upset him. Then, you felt his finger sneak into the waist of your jeans. You froze like a deer in the headlights as he went down further, playing across the front of your underwear.

Surely he must know what he was doing, you thought, breath catching in your throat. He began to massage the front of your underwear in time with his coding, his fingers almost matching the clicking of his keys as he typed.

You wanted to gasp, to moan, react somehow, but instead you bit your lip, trying to hold it all in as he went down further. You could feel that you were wet, your underwear damp against your skin. He continued to rub you, his fingers roughly pushing and squeezing, curling around underneath. You tried to get a look at his face through the reflection of his screen but he was blank. The reflection of the screen on his glasses and his mop of red hair blocked his eyes, his mouth in a slight frown at the code. One of his fingers brushed across your clit, through your underwear, as he muttered something about betas. You felt a shock through your body and your thigh twitched but you bit your lip. You hoped that your sharp breath hadn't disturbed him, hadn't broken the spell. You were his obedient little stress toy at the moment and every moment felt amazing. His breath was hot on the back of your head and neck as you listened for any changes, no matter how slight.

You gasped a little as he hit compile, his coding finished for the night. He pulled his hand out of your pants and moved, startling you as he did.
"Oh? You're so wet that you've made a mess of my nice leather chair," he said, pushing his glasses up and looking at his fingers. He slid the chair back and you fell forward, stumbling to your feet and propping yourself up on his desk. You were bent over, panting from the sudden end to the simulation.

"I'm going to have to make you pay for that chair. That was real leather, you know."

You turned your head, still bent over and catching your breath, to see him bending over you, putting one hand on your back.
"Of course, I'm sure I can accept something other than money this time," he whispered, pushing you down again his desk next to his keyboard. The hand on your back was firm but not enough to pin you there, just enough to hold you in place. His other hand unbuttoned the top of your jeans, pulling them down to leave your ass exposed, underwear visible despite the gloom.
He ran a finger over your wet underwear, and you could finally make a sound at the wonderful feeling. You moaned, a breathy sound of relief and pent up desire. Leaving your vulva alone for a minute, he grabbed one of the cheeks of your ass and squeezed it tight, far more so than while he was coding.
You squeaked, your heart quickening, wondering what would come next. From your position on the desk you couldn't see him, and you mind was racing as fast as your heart.

He answered your question when you felt a a sharp smack on your ass, the pain taking a moment to register. By the time you understood what was happening, he'd smacked you again, the sharp sound ringing in your ears. He hit your ass a third time, and then stopped to squeeze your butt, slipping his fingers between your thighs to feel how wet you were. He never stopped whispering to you, either. He alternated between admonishment for being so wet and for disrupting his coding, and encouragement as he fingered you, his fingers pushing aside your underwear and sliding in to you.

"You can repay me for my chair with those delightful noises you make," he said, breathing in your ear. You squeaked a little, the firm pressure on your back holding you down with just enough give for you to squirm. His thumb went deep into you as his fingers rubbed your clit, finally bringing you to a climax. He released your back, letting you sink to your knees as your body shook and your heart began to calm, your knees still weak from the orgasm.
"That was worth the price of a chair, Lol," he said, smirking at you.