Pure Of Heart. Dumb Of Ass.

steve’s a good guy, and when you offered to help him relieve his stress even further by letting him use you however he wants, you really did mean it. the only stipulation he asked for was that it only happened if he was stoned, because that somehow made it less weird.

this time, steve’s had a bad week. which seems to be a little bit more like a bad month. keith has him working ridiculous hours, and robin keeps bailing on her shifts to hang out with vicky. his car battery won’t keep a charge despite it being changed three times, and he needs new tires.

and he’s lonely. very terribly lonely.

you hear it in his voice when he calls you a little bit past 8, beating around the bush for a minute before telling you that he’s planning on smoking and would you pretty please come over. and maybe wear something that provides easy access.

you wouldn’t dream of denying yourself — or him — of that.

and use you, he does. all of you.

kisses you until you’re gasping for air, biting at your lips and licking into your mouth like it’s made of candy.

grabs your hips and hauls you onto his lap, hardly getting you stretched open enough before bullying his way inside of you. he knows you love the burn, the way he keeps you steady and helps you take it. he fucks you on his cock like you’re a toy, something for him to play with. something truly his.

steve loves it when you ride him, though he’s typically the one making you bounce. his teeth latch onto his bottom lip while he moves you, up and down at a dizzying pace. when the taste of copper hits his tongue, he leans forward to suck and kiss your nipples. he’s prone to leaving a hickey or two or five on your breasts, just because he can. likes knowing you’re marked up by him and no one else.

and when your legs get too tired, he flips you onto your back, hooking your knees over his shoulders. he’s slow now, grinding in deep, holding your hands to his mattress while he coos down at you.

“you’re real good to me, yeah? lettin’ me use this pretty pussy?”

you leave with shaking legs after, your stomach in knots for the rest of the evening thinking about him and thinking about how he may like to use you again in the future. maybe you could cockwarm him — or perhaps a blowjob, guiding the tip past your gag reflex just to feel your throat tighten around him —

his next call comes not even twelve hours later, just as the sun is starting to rise.

“i’m sober. but i can’t stop thinking about you.”

He’s moving slow now, but deep. Pushes in as far as he can, the tip of him brushing against the deepest part of you. It feels like he’s nearly in your throat, and you claw at the arm that’s tucked under your neck weakly, trying to remember how to breathe.

It’s a little hard to with the chokehold you’re in.

Steve’s everywhere — his weight presses you into the bed, and the scent of his cologne and a half smoked cigarette and his musk hangs heavy in the air around you. He keeps you pinned and pliant, teasing you with each agonizingly slow push and pull of his hips.

“Come on,” he goads, his voice soft as velvet and rough as gravel. “Be smart.”

You open your mouth to speak just as he bottoms out again. “Shhhhh—fuck!”

You try to kick at him, though it’s no use. Not that you’d like for him to stop fucking you. It’s just retaliatory, something you do to see how far he wants to push you after.

“That’s not very nice of you,” he chastises, his lips right at your ear.

“You’re torturing me,” you finally manage.

You feel him grin against your ear. “You love it.”

Regrettably, you do. Even his assertion makes you clench around him, dripping around his shaft.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he laughs breathlessly, flexing his arm around your neck, cutting your air supply just enough to make you dizzy as he rolls his hips again. “Love it when I bully this pussy, hm? When I get you stupid and full?”

You shiver, legs shaking, clenching harder. You’re pretty sure you’re drooling, but you can’t find it in you to care.

With his knee, Steve pushes your legs apart further, helping him get into you just a little deeper.

“I’m gonna take my time with you,” he continues, his voice hypnotic, “and when I’m done, you better thank me for it. Got that?”

You nod — as best as you can — and Steve presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple.