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The room was dim, only lit by the red cove lights embedded in the ceiling. The curtains were open, allowing a view of the city with its many buildings, but the light held by them was insignificant, failing to pierce the bloody, lustful atmosphere of the bedroom. Izuku turned his attention away from the window, dark emerald eyes lazily making their way over to the pole. A redhead swung on it leisurely. Sharp teeth were bared in a grin as he noticed Izuku watching him once again, leg hiking up further to show off strong thighs. Vermilion eyes twinkled as if this was all just a game. As if Izuku wasn’t the most feared man in Japan. As if those before him hadn’t been threatened to keep quiet when their job was finished and subsequently followed around to make sure, sometimes permanently silenced in the case of a few. Izuku pulled his cigarette from his lips, breathing out the smoke slowly as he watched the redhead move to a silent beat. His patience was already wearing thin, scarred fingers tapping at the leather of the armrest.
His subordinates recommended that he take a break every once in a while, loosen up, have some fun.
Have sex.
However, every dancer he brought in failed to make this feel like anything more than another task. He had half a mind to take out his phone and call up one of his contacts to remind them that their next shipment better be on time, just to make sure it was on the forefront of their mind. Sure, this one was odd, nowhere near as nervous as the others were, but he was still failing to catch the verdette’s interest. He had even made sure to hire a man this time since women just weren’t doing it for him.
“Hey.” The crime boss’s attention snapped back to the dancer. He had ceased spinning, merely leaning against the pole with a frown on his face. “This isn’t doing it for you, huh?”
“Just do your job,” Izuku huffed, sticking the cigarette back between his lips.
The man shook his head, stepping away from the pole and walking towards the leather armchair where Izuku sat. As his hips swayed idly, the red light bounced off firm, lithe muscles and the crimson and black lace covering them. Coming to a stop right in front, hands resting on his hips, the dancer cocked his head at him. “I aim for satisfaction, sir . Complete satisfaction and I can tell that watching me dance on a pole isn’t up your alley. So, why don’t we try something different?”
Emerald eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Like what?”
“Like this .”
His cigarette was plucked from between his lips by cherry red nails, the dancer taking a long drag from the cigarette before dropping it to the floor. His heel ground it out, and a vein throbbed in Izuku’s head. “Who the fuck do you think you are–”
“–Eijirou. My name is Eijirou,” the man replied, before lunging forwards, hands gripping the crime boss’s face and forcing their lips together. Smoke was exhaled directly into the verdette’s mouth as Eijirou moved to sit on his lap. He leaned forward so that his scantily-clad body pressed against expensive fabric, one hand wandering back behind Izuku’s head to rake through his undercut. A punctuated roll of the hips was given. Then scarred fingers tangled in red locks and yanked Eijirou away. The dancer merely moaned in the presence of the anger Izuku was radiating, as if he couldn’t kill him right then and there, no questions asked. Like his right-hand man wasn’t just outside the door. “Mmm, harder~”
Izuku was conflicted, used to people making themselves scarce when he got mad, but here this dancer was moaning in his lap like the whore he was, as if the prospect of danger excited him. His fingers tightened around bright, blood-coloured strands of hair and yanked again only for Eijirou to arch his back, pushing his lace-covered chest out as yet another wanton moan escaped cherry lips. “Fuck, Daddy, just like that~”
Izuku’s dick gave an interested twitch at that. Was he into that? Since when? The dancer grinding down into his hardening cock drew his attention away from his new discovery though as sinful lips once again captured his own, no doubt painting them ruddy. Eijirou rolled his hips with skill as long nails scratched at green fuzz and tangled with the unruly locks up top. Scarred hands gripped a lithe but strong waist. Izuku was no idiot. Eijirou may look dainty, but the strength it took to dance on a pole like that was not something someone ‘frail’ would possess. Even now, he felt hidden muscles rippling underneath his fingertips as the redhead worked the both of them up.
Eijirou was blatant in his pleasure, sighing and humming into his ear, pressing ever closer until the door slammed open. A low growl left Izuku at having been interrupted– normally a welcome occurrence but not now. Dark eyes snapped to the doorway where Kacchan stood clutching a man by the hair tightly. The look on the blond’s face showed that he wasn’t anywhere near happy to be interrupting his boss’s… personal time… but it must have been important if he was busting in like this. Then again, it irked Izuku that the one time he was actually experiencing a small amount of enjoyment it had to be interrupted. This one time his men couldn't figure out shit on their own. Specifically, his right-hand man, the one in charge whenever he wasn't available.
Like right now.
A whine of complaint, of “Daddy no!” left Eijirou as Izuku pushed him off his lap and stood up. Verdant eyes narrowed dangerously at the two intruders.
“What the fuck is so important that you couldn’t handle it yourself, Katsuki ,” he hissed out through gritted teeth. Scarred fists were clenched tightly at his sides, one ever-so-close to the gun at his hip.
Uncertainty flashed across Katsuki’s face, but it was nearly imperceptible, a familiar sneer replacing it instantly as he yanked the other offender forwards by the hair. “This fucker was found snooping around in the warehouse and stealing inventory to sell. Thought you needed to know about it and decide the best course of action. Besides, you usually don’t… enjoy this shit.” A hand waved at Eijirou who just turned his chin up like a petulant child, arms crossed over his chest. Izuku felt his patience dwindle quickly.
In a flash, his gun was removed from his holster, the safety clicked off, and the trigger pulled. A loud bang resounded through the room before giving way to silence. The man’s body slumped, only held up by Katsuki’s hand as blood trickled from the hole in his head. Izuku let out a scoff as he clicked the safety back on and slid the gun back into its holster. “It’s been dealt with. Now get out of my sight. I’m busy .” Katsuki gave a curt nod as he turned around and dragged the body out of the room. The door slammed shut, and Izuku seethed.
He turned around, prepared to have to deal with the fallout of his partner for the night having seen him just kill a man, but the sight he was greeted with was not one he was expecting. Rather than being pale-faced and shaking, Eijirou was flushed and panting, cock hard in its lace confines.
“Oh, Daddy, that was so hot. You shot him, just like that. Fuck, I love it when you take charge, Daddy.” Izuku wasn’t sure what to do with this one. Eijirou wasn’t scared of him, not even when confronted with the reality of what he was, thought it was hot when he shot someone. He liked violence. Izuku stalked over and clutched Eijirou’s throat with one scarred hand to test the boundaries. The redhead just shivered, face flushing further.
“You like my gun, you little slut? Like flirting with death while I have my hand around your throat? I could crush your windpipe, but you know that already, don’t you?” Carmine eyes were hooded and dark with lust; a low, raspy moan breaking free of the dancer’s throat. Izuku squeezed tighter. The man before him shuddered but not in fear. He could clearly see a prominent bulge straining against those pretty garments, felt his hips rocking back and forth minutely in an attempt to gain some friction against what was no doubt an aching cock. Izuku brought his eyes back up to meet his hired whore’s. “You’re nothing but a slut for violence and danger, aren’t you? Well then, let’s see how you handle my gun .”
His free hand moved around to the redhead’s backside, pushing aside flimsy fabric to reach his hole. However, it was blocked. Izuku frowned, fingertips tracing around the rim of what was surely a plug, heavy and large. That had been in him all night long, even while he was dancing. “What a whore. Couldn’t even stand to be empty.”
A sharp grin flashed at him as Eijirou shrugged his shoulders without an ounce of shame.
Fuck, this dancer was going to be the end of him. “On the bed. Now. I don’t care how.” With the hand around his throat finally gone, Eijirou scrambled to obey. He was on the bed in a flash, ass raised and chest lowered to expose the heavy glass plug sitting in his hole. Izuku swore under his breath at the sight of the dancer’s insides, all nice and stretched out. His scarred fingers gripped the base and slowly pulled the plug a quarter of the way out before pushing it back in, making Eijirou shudder. The motion was repeated. In and out, in and out, the plug coming out a little more each time until it finally popped free. Eijirou’s hole fluttered at the emptiness, but it wouldn’t be like that for long. The plug was discarded, and after wiping his fingers on the sheets, Izuku gripped vibrant red strands and yanked. A whorish moan left his partner as his head was forced back.
“ Suck .”
Ruddy lips fell open obediently to expose a wet, sinful mouth. The barrel of Izuku’s gun pressed its way inside, past the teeth and back towards the throat. Eijirou gagged just a little, loosening his jaw a little more to make way for the intrusion. Izuku could see the way his throat flexed, muscles rolling as he swallowed and laved his tongue along cold metal. Slowly, he began to thrust the weapon.
“Look at you. Such a slut, sucking my gun like a cock. You don’t even know how many people it’s killed. I could fire it right now, and you would just swallow the bullet and thank me, wouldn’t you?”
A resounding moan left the dancer as he gave a slight nod. Izuku felt himself twitch heavily. His thrusts sped up, pushing the barrel back until Eijirou shuddered and gagged though he made no move to push him away or stop him. Fuck, he really could just shoot him right here, and this pretty redhead would probably actually thank him. No, Izuku knew Eijirou would take whatever he gave him.
Patience having run out, the crime boss yanked the gun from Eijirou’s mouth. Spit-slicked metal kissed at his soft, gaping hole, and the man wasted no time in shoving the entire barrel of his weapon in roughly. His partner pitched forwards, his chest pressed against the sheets and hips lifting as he let loose a low, pleasured groan. Never in his life did Izuku think he would fuck someone with a gun, let alone have them enjoy it, yet here he was. His pants felt far too tight as he watched Eijirou ride the weapon as if he’d die if he didn’t. Izuku’s finger repeatedly bumped against his rim as he tried to take as much as possible only to be stopped by the trigger grip and Izuku’s fingers wrapped around the handle.
“Daddy, more! Please, Daddy! More, more, more–!”
Fuck, he couldn’t handle this. “Such a dirty mouth you have. You know Kacchan is just outside that door, right? He can hear you spouting all those nasty words. You don’t care though, do you?” Eijirou shook his head rapidly as he continued to babble only to cut himself off with a gasp as the gun was forcibly removed from his hole, leaving him empty and gaping once more. His insides fluttered uselessly, searching for something to swallow and squeeze. “Such a slut. You want more? Then take it.” The gun was tossed aside and forgotten as scarred fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his pants. Izuku nearly broke the zipper with how hard he yanked it down, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. He didn’t even bother taking his pants off, just pulled his cock out and guided it to the greedy hole in front of him.
Izuku had never really cared much about how he compared to others in the dick department, but he was a decent length, thick and veiny, and his partner seemed to be more than pleased as he buried himself to the hilt in one thrust. If his right-hand man hadn’t heard what was happening before, he certainly could now. Eijirou had absolutely no shame in voicing his pleasure. Izuku, himself, was more quiet, gripping tanned hips in a way that would leave bruises for days to come as he grunted. His orgasm was coming embarrassingly quick, but that was okay. He was sure his partner wouldn’t care about having to wait a few minutes for him to get it back up again, not as long as he kept that slutty hole stuffed in the meantime. Fuck, this one was really something else. He’d probably be more than happy to sit in his lap during meetings, be his little cocksleeve when he needed some stress relief, a pretty pet to show off. One hand found Eijirou’s cock and squeezed at the length. All it took was a few tugs before the redhead was spilling onto the sheets with a loud cry. The feeling of the hole milking his cock had Izuku joining him a couple thrusts later with grit teeth and a curse. Eijirou’s body went slack as his insides were painted white. A low whine of complaint left him when Izuku eventually pulled out. Cum dribbled from his abused hole for all of three seconds before the glass plug was pressed back in to keep any more from escaping.
“You better keep that warm. You’re mine now, Eijirou .”