NSFW MDNI
warnings: drunk night out, drunk gross men, girlie gets groped by a stranger, bitch ass Brynn, possessive!gator, protective!gator, mean!gator to girlie, cufffffffffffs personalized by the man himself, fingering, withholding orgasm (f)
It was busier than most nights at Ralphs. Bodies on bodies and bodies touching your body - no apologies give, it was the consequence of the room. You and Victoria work your way through the crowd to find a pocket of air near the back corner - seemingly miles away from the bar, but it would have to do for a moment as you assessed the crowd.
“Forget what I said before, Lehigh is fucking busy!”
“I told you! Put some respect on her!”, you said laughing, eyes wide at the amount of people - it even shocked you.
With the rodeo in town this whole next week, it became a madhouse. You saw so many faces you didn’t recognize, assuming that its due to them being here for the events. Lehigh was perfect for a rodeo - the biggest one in North Dakota. The Tillman Ranch usually opened up a few barns and corrals for boarding purposes during the week. It was a good way to use the lad and rake in cash from strangers, according to Roy.
He was calculated, strategic. Especially when it came to strangers, especially went it came to money.
It wasn’t a bad idea either. It brought a wave of tourism to the town, which meant revenue. Suddenly, Beverly is asking all the young high school kids if they wanted to work for the week - needing a surplus of help at the diner. There’s a wait at the diner during rodeo week. The motels were all set to no vacancy. Hell, even the salon’s phone was busy asking if anyone did mens cuts since the barber was filled to the brim - and you were happy to now answer yes. On top of that, Gator was always busy. If it wasn’t something he had to do at the ranch, it was arresting strangers for acting outside of the likings of the Tillman Dynasty here in Lehigh.
Yet, nobody complained because everyone got paid.
The only issue you have is that Ralph’s also was effected. And now you were struggling to get to the bar.
You knew Gator was working. And you knew that he knew you were here. Which means that most likely, and you’d bet if you were a betting woman, that he was sitting outside right now in his cruiser watching. Protecting. Keeping an eye on the people you. But he was still obeying, the good watchdog he is. Careful to heed instructions, but close enough to bite if needed.
Fingers fidgeting with your outfit, you began to scratch at your belt buckle - his belt buckle. Missing him, you grabbed the alligator crocodile belt bucket as a last minute addition to your outfit. Tight jeans, bootcut. Lilac bralette and cream lace tank. Paired it with your boots - you weren’t letting any of these bitches step on your toes. Simple, nothing wild - now Victoria? Leather mini skirt, yours. Tight red corset top, yours. Thigh high boots, yours.
“Do you think we can even get through to get a drink? I mean its literally packed-”, she gestured to the sea of bodies.
You looked around, surely you could find someone you knew to help you get up to the bar without being trampled. And low and behold - those green eyes. Not looking at you, looking at her.
“Wade!”, you called out, motioning him to come over. He hesitated, neck twisting and looking for Gator.
“Wait - Wade? Now? I haven’t even had a drink yet!”, Victoria panicked, turning around to adjust her tits in the top.
“Come on!”, you pulled your best friend towards the man, still standing in fear of his cousin.
You storm up to him, confidence in full swing - just as Victoria has always done for you. The best wingwoman alive. She was the reason you finally went for Gator in the first place.
Tugging her forward, Victoria stumbles two steps ahead of you - chest to chest with Wade, who’d been slack jawed looking at her since the two of you walked in.
“Hi”, she whispered up at him.
“Hi”, he whispered back.
Her ankle began to twist, a nervous tick she’s gained over the years - oh, she likes him.
One drink, two, three and before the fourth - Victoria grabs your phone to keep you from folding. Even while practically in Wades lap, she still is a bitch who makes you stand ten toes down. Toes… Gator sucked on your toes this morning… just one text?
She smacked your hand away from her tiny purse before turning back to the fireman, giving him those eyes as she makes a smooth move telling him how they should have a pole dancing competition with one another.
After about two hours of the back and fourth, suddenly the bar was a bit more quiet. Not because the crowd lessened, but because your company was busy swallowing one another whole. Nice. Unfortunately, Victorias purse was shoved up between their bodies - impossible for you to get to your phone. The crowd grows more and more unfamiliar with strangers here for the festivities, and not another friendly face in sight.
Heavy on ‘friendly’ face… because of course, there was one face you knew.
Brynn Whitehead.
You could feel her eyes on you. And worse than that, you were here without Gator. And worse than that, you were awkwardly sitting next to Wade as Victoria straddled him - tongues…. Just like…. Everywhere. Completely unnecessary and completely highlighting your not nearly as busy tongue as it wrapped around your straw.
The usual liquid courage deemed itself to be more like an anxiety enhancer as you excuse yourself to the bathroom, the words falling on deaf ears as they were too busy with each other to even notice your absence.
Your boots clammer down on the concrete floors with confidence, not used to the peace of covered toes. Typically, even in the snow, you wear your heels to Ralphs. Every time you’d pull up in your fur coat and stilettos, Gator would roll his eyes and throw you over his shoulder to get you safely to the door without stepping in the snow. But tonight, you were worried about that… tonight, people should be worried about you stepping on their feet.
The single stall bathroom serves as a quiet moment away from the crowd. A second to sober up a bit or to decide to go deeper into the feeling, you stare at yourself in the mirror. At this point, you didn’t even know what time it was. You didn’t have your phone. Your only friend was swallowing your boyfriends cousin. But you knew he was probably outside. Never too far from you. Especially after last night. Your hand traces over the bruises the other man left on you… a bite mark on your neck - ugly and bruised. A flash of this morning rings in your head, Gator kissing your neck softly. Was he kissing the marks? Your arms had grown little purple finger marks, you trace them slow. Gator had traced them this morning too. Soft, and only for you. But if he wouldn’t have been so secretive - this wouldn’t have even happened.
Your mind begins to spiral. The conversation you walked in on replaying in your mind. Was he smuggling drugs for the Cartel? Or is he in danger… he did say it could be a bargaining chip. Usually you don’t have to bargain with allies.
A deep breath leaves your lungs. You need a drink.
You swing the door open, fast enough to swoosh the hair out of your face - and the breeze was followed by a freezing splash coating your face and dripping down your body.
Someone had thrown a drink at you.
By the time you wiped your eyes, stinging from the burn of alcohol - the culprit was running down the dark hall… but not before you saw it.
Those grown out roots.
Brynn.
Without hesitation, you race down the hall - arms swinging as your gain speed on her. Brynn grabs a drink from another patron and throws it on the floor - sending ice underneath your boots, causing you to slip and stumble right into a man leaning up against the bar.
“I am so sorry! Oh my god!”
“Damn, gorgeous - you okay? S’it rainin’?”
“Uh… no - someone threw a drink on me - Im sorry! I will be right back, I’ll get your next round-”, you said, twisting your head to look for Brynn.
“Oh no, no I don’t think so-”
“No, I insist! Just give me one second-”, you pulled away from him, but he pulls you back to him. Chest to chest. His heavy breath on your cheek, and hand on your ass.
“No - I mean that ya ain't gonna go nowheres, doll face”, the drunk man slurred out.
Your hand slides across his face like butter on hot toast, clean and fast. His face jerked to the side, drunken spit slipping out of his mouth in the action - landing on the arm of the man beside him.
“What the fuck, man? Fuckin’ disgusting!”, the other man yells out, standing and ready to swing.
“It was this fuckin’ bitch-”, he tugs your hair at the nape of your neck, prying your head to meet his eyes.
“Right, blame the girl - huh?”, the other man shoves against the man holding you tightly, tossing you right along with him. He releases you and lunges for the other man, absolutely clambering you in the process - an arm pulls you up and shoves your body behind him. You watch as a heavy arm swings back and connects with the jaw of the drunk man - sending him stumbling back into another patron.
Wade quickly turns towards you, “You okay?”
Your eyes widen, “Uh - uh, yes… yes, thank you?”
His body was pulled into the fight as two more men joined in. There were no teams, just drunk men fighting and no one knew who to punch and who not to. There was nothing but skin on skin and testosterone with alcohol - that and egos, some bruised and some fueled by a steamy make-out session with a girl who was watching fervently.
“What the fuck is going on?!”, Victoria said smiling, not even trying to conceal her enjoyment, “And why are you soaked?”
“FUCK!”, you turn and search the room for Brynn.
“What am I missing?”
You look at her. This would be a deciding moment.
If you told Victoria, there was no going back. She’d beat the fuck out of her.
“It was Brynn.”
She turned without another word, and handed you a shot - you both downed one each… you didn’t ask if those were her shots. You already knew they weren’t.
Victoria flipped back around and immediately made herself become engulfed in the crowd, trying to sniff out a bitch. You followed without hesitation. Fingers clasping around a strand of her hair, she led you through the crowd.
Her silky strands slip right through your fingers as bodies sway you through the packed room. You yelled for her, but your voice was drowned out by the music and the yelling from the bar where the fight continued.
“Alright! Show’s over!”, a voice yells, deep and firm. You know that voice all too well.
Gator.
The booming of the noise amplified with a siren coming in for backup - you cant even see over the hoard of people blocking your view. You decide to focus your efforts on Victoria and finding her before she can start another fight right in front of the cops.
You slip through the people, getting a face full of a mans sweaty armpit in the fight for space. The clearing is close, but you already hear it.
“Oh, great - so the town whore does have a friend! Thats good to see, her desperate ass has been glued to Gator since she got here.”
“Call her a whore one more time, bitch, it will be the last thing you d0-”
“Saw you tonguing Wade, guessing you’re a tramp too? The Tillmans are easy - guess you are too!”, Brynn turned from Victoria, clearly not expecting - this.
Victorias hand twists into Brynns hair and yanks, ripping out her extensions that were long overdue for a move up. Brynns back folds and a yelp rips out of her throat.
“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING?”
Before she could pounce, Victoria made the move - shoving her backwards and stumbling. Brynn recovered and grabbed Victoria by the shoulders. You finally cleared the crowd and use the momentum to shove her off, and becoming a barrier in-between the two of them.
You turn to Victoria, “Cops are here, V, she’s not wor-”, you were cut off by an arm wrapping around your waist. Brynn hauled you to the ground, slamming you into the concrete. Your hands instinctively begin clawing at her, yelps leaving her throat. She tries to smack you, but Victoria bodied her. Victoria and Brynn tangled together on the floor, you watch as Victoria gets a slap in.
Maybe it was hormones. Maybe the alcohol. Maybe it was revenge - but you notice an empty beer bottle on the small table near you.
Brynn pulls on you, dragging you back into the fight. You can hear the crowd watching, clearly entertained. Two fights happening in the same bar at the same time? Shit, they gotta come back to Lehigh for more than the rodeo if this is how the town is! You don’t remember how it happened, but your teeth were sinking into her arm in order to get her off of Victoria.
Your boot smashed down onto her hand, no one would step on your toes - but maybe you could step on fingers?
And that is when you remembered the bottle.
You reach over and grab the sticky glass, gaining momentum as you raise it to swing down on those grown out roots. She clearly needed to rebook with you.
A hand grabbed your wrist and hauled you upright, before shoving you backwards and out of harms way.
Gator.
He hooks his arm around Brynns waist and tosses her to the side, before wrangling Victoria away from Brynn.
“Don’t you dare bite me, Victoria. I ain't up to date on my rabies shot.”, he joked as he hoisted her to her feet.
He turned and shot you a look that you couldn’t interpret.
Anger? Lust? Pride? Amusement?
Yes. All of the above.
“Benson, detain her for right now-”, motioning to Brynn, “Wells, keep your eye on this one-”, looking at you. The other two Deputies arrive in the corner of the bar, one grabbing you and the other grabbing Brynn.
Gator abruptly grabs the arm of Wells, who is holding you firmly, “Told you to watch her, not touch her.”
“I don't have cuffs to detain her, Chief-”
Chief?
His fist grabs a handful of fabric from the deputy’s polo, “And I didn’t say to detain her. Use your fuckin’ ears.”
He turned slightly and looked down at you, sending a chill up your spine and heat everywhere else.
“Go get in the fucking cruiser and do not move. Do you understand?”
The words couldn’t form themselves, and you looked over to Victoria that was being looked at by another deputy. Gator swooped into your eye-line, blocking your view of her.
“Ya gonna make me repeat myself, baby? Get in the fuckin’ cruiser.”
You pushed past him, the crowd parting in solidarity of the situation - not wanting to cause problems for the local and capable Chief.
As you made your way through the crowd, Wade appeared in the path - lip busted wide open and bruise painted under his left eye.
You halted right before him, looking at him with thankfulness - you’re not convinced you’d look any better if he hadn’t done what he did. He had no reason to help.
Noticing you stop, Gator turned towards the two of you.
“Fuckin’ move, Wade. I ain't got the time or patience to deal with your shit right now…”, Gator yelled across the crowd to him.
“Aright’, just figured you’d wanna handle the guy who grabbed your girls ass and pulled her hair - my bad, cuz.”
You felt the thudding of the concrete floors, his heavy boots walking right past you as Wade turns and walks with him. The two Tillmans crossing the rest of the crowd and make their way to the bar - where a drunk rodeo clown held his nose, bloody… presumably from Wade, by the looks of his knuckles.
“You touch my girl?”
“She touched me first!”
“She fell, you motherfucker.”
Gators eyes darkened and you see a flash of his hand raising, you quickly shut your eyes. Through you didn’t see it, there was no masking the crunch. He had smashed the mans head into the bar top, breaking his nose.
A few gasps fell through the crowd before the deputies reeled the audience back in, distracting them from the sight. You made your way through the crowd and out the heavy front door.
The air was cool on your skin, but your mind still dizzy from the moving, alcohol, fight - everything. It wasn’t even a second later that Gator was behind you, leading you to the cruiser in a haste. His hand was warm, it toasted your skin - you missed his skin. Missed touching him. Him touching you. Him in general.
“You think you could do me a favor and not get yourself in some fuckin’ problem for one day? Just one. Thats all I'm asking, holy shit.”, he muttered to you, weary of prying eyes.
He opened the car door, motioning for you to pile inside.
You stopped, causing him to huff in annoyance.
“Chief?”
He looked away quickly, clearing his throat.
“Yeah… Dad just thought-”, he avoided your gaze, “He thought I did a good job, ya know - handling all that shit yesterday. Brought me in the office before my shift. I called you.”
“Victoria has my phone.”
He nodded sharply, “Yeah, its no big deal-”
“That is huge, baby. What are you talking about?!”
“I don't know, I mean, I don’t deserve it - at least not yet.”
“And what makes you think that, huh?”
He finally looked at you, “Baby, come on. Look at you.”
Your eyebrows scrunched together, confusion flooding your face.
“Whaddya mean, Gator bug?”, you took a step closer to him, sliding your hand down his arm and interlocking your fingers with his. He squeezed like it was second nature.
“You’re being tracked and I haven’t found the fuckin’ person yet. Been a whole week. Then yesterday you had to kill someone. And now today you’re getting grabbed at again… if I cant protect you, then what the fuck am I even doin’? What’s the point of any of this if you’re in danger? I dont fuckin’ care about anyone else here! Shit, this job is putting you in danger…”
“How many men, Gator?”
“…What?”, he gave you a confused look.
“How many men have you killed for me?”
His face went white, eyes wide and suddenly his mouth was dry, “Baby - you don’t wa-”
“How. Many.”
“Five.”
“Hurt?”
“Fuck knows.”
“How many times have I gotten hurt?”
“Twice.”
“Out of all those countless times, I never even had to bat an eye… you handled it. Why are you actin’ like you cant protect me?”
“Should be zero. If I was good at my job, it would be zero.”
“Fine, you wanna throw a pity party? We can. Do better. Don’t let anyone ever touch me again.”
His eyes locked in on you, pupils growing wide.
“They can’t touch what’s yours, right, Chief?”
“Damn right.”, He walked you backwards, pinning you to the cruiser.
He reached inside of his cruiser and the unmistakable sound of cuffs rang in your ears, making your eyes dart down to his hands. His finger guided your chin back to looking up at him. The moonlight caught on the cuffs, reflecting off of your alligator crocodile belt buckle.
Bedazzled cuffs.
He clicked them onto your wrists, and you pulled away instantly.
“Gator, you’re not being fuckin’ serious! She started it!”
“I am absolutely being serious. New position, cant be letting you get away with everything now..”
“But you’re my boyfriend!”
“I’m on duty. Meaning I’m the law. So, don’t get cocky”, he jutted his chin to the backseat, “In.”
Your eyes widen, was he really taking you in?
“Glittered these damn cuffs up myself this week. Though about how I couldn’t wait to use em on ya, fucking bratty the whole week - and here I’m just tryna take care of ya. Brought em tonight, cuz I just knew you’d cause trouble. Always do.”
“Gator-”
“Nuh uh - you wanna play a bad girl? Go ahead. Play the part, baby.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly.”
“Gator!”
He tightened the cuffs by one click.
“Try again.”
The pain in your wrist outweighed your stubbornness…
“...Chief?”
“Atta girl. Now get in the back. Can’t fuck ya with this many people around.”
You jumped in the car immediately, earning a cocky nasally laugh out of him. Oh, he loved this. Seeing you beg this morning and now this?
He jumped in the car, speeding off before you had any questions or smart ass comments.
Gator pulled off on a side road, close to the lake you’d only been to once in your three years living in Lehigh. The tires slid slightly on the dirt, causing dust to fly into the air. He threw open the driver side door and yanked the back open fast, needing something.
You were cuffed, at his mercy.
“Now, I’m pretty fuckin’ ecstatic that on the night you knew I wasn’t with you, you wore jeans. That makes me fuckin’ happy - but now, not so much.”, He yanked you across the plastic backseat by your ankle. You slid with ease in his grip.
“Here’s what were gonna do”, he started, looking at all the options, “I’m gonna give you an option here, baby.”
He pulled your arms from behind your back, releasing one wrist from the cuffs. He picked up your cuffed arm and slid the free cuff through the handle bar, and re-secured it to your free wrist.
“You’re gonna either let me continue what I started this morning, or -”, he placed his hands on his belt, “I’m gonna take you down to the station for assault charges. You pick, mama.”
“Gator!”
“Nuh uh. What we talk about, hm?”
“Chief… you cannot be serious! Assault?!”
“Wouldn’t get you much time… you could always post bail. Hope you haven’t spent all that money that I gave ya yet….”, he tilted his head, eyes wandering down your body, “Theres always the other option…”
“Fine.”
“Fine, what? Talk to me.”
“Continue.”
“To?”
“Punish me.”
His eyes flick to yours as a devilish grin appears, “Good choice.”
He popped open the button on your jeans and ran your zipper down.
“Fuck… the pink ones?”, he stared at your lacy pink panties.
“Was hoping you’d seem em”
He laughed at that, bending down - eye level to your heat, “Yeah, bet you did - I can smell that hope right now.”
“Gator! Fuck! Chief! Don’t say shit like that!”
“My girl wants me! That’s fuckin’ hot! Plus, you’re not in charge here, are ya?”
His hand slipped into your panties, big fingers sliding right into your drenched pussy. You couldn’t help but whimper out a soft cry, biting your lip in the process.
“Awww… someones sensitive, huh? Need Chief that bad, baby?”
“Fuck. Yes, baby - please, I need more than that and you know it.”
“If only you called the shots, huh?”
He touched you slow, painfully slow. You could hear your cunt squelching in between his fingers, which weren’t even inside of you yet - no matter how you angled your hips, he would pull away.
“Shhhhh… let me take this, huh? You gonna learn for me? We talked about this already, Princess. Patience. I reward that, ya know?”
“Im trying-”, you whimper out, tears already forming in your eyes as he keeps working his hand slow against your heat.
“And you’re doin’ such a good job, mama. And somebody’s got a birthday tomorrow, ain't that right? You keep bein’ this good and you’ll get that big present I got for ya.”
“Oh, God - Gator is that a dick joke?”
He slipped his hand from your pussy, earning a screech from you in the process.
“Now, what did I just say? No, it wasn’t a fuckin’ dick joke. Now, behave.”
He slid his hand back into your jeans, but now overtop of your panties. The lace drenched in your desire.
“What are you doing, Chief? Can you put it back?”
“Now, as sweet as that is, pretty girl - I don’t think I will. You talkin’ back ain’t earning it.”
He dug his finger against the fabric, you’d bet it was ripping a hole - but you didn’t care. All you could feel was him. And all you wanted was him. You craved him.
“G-gator - Chief - fuck, Im so close, oh god!”
“Not yet, hold on f’me”
You didn’t see him as he checked his watch.
11:58.
“Gimme two more minute, baby.”
Your hips slowly rolled against his palm, drawling soft moans from your lips into the cool of the night. Nothing but the sound of frogs, crickets, and your wetness echoing out onto the lake.
“I love you.”, He whispered.
“I - fuck - I love you.”
He watched as the clock hit 12:00am.
“Show me how much.”
You released, your head falling backwards. Hands trembling in the bedazzled handcuffs that he made, specially for you. Your cries bounced off of the steel cruiser and hit the water - a fucking beautiful symphony ringing out.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
Your eyes shot open as he smiled wide at you. The childlike glimmer in his eyes seemed out of place for the moment, but God, he loved you.
“You-”
“Planned your orgasm perfectly? Yes, yes I did. Now get up, we gotta get ya home. You got a busy day tomorrow and ya gotta get all cleaned up for church!”
_____
a/n 💌 this took FOREVER, but I hope you liked it hehehehehe! WHAT DO WE THINK ABOUT OUR BABY BOYS PROMOTION?!?!?!?!?! CHIEF TILLMAN, HELLO?????????????? do we understand that the next promotion is SHERIFF????????? his dream???? i’m gonna cry bye. 🥹💖🤧💌✨
summary: There's just one thing Steve Harrington can't quite seem to quit.
tags: MDNI [smut] [sorta kinda exes to lovers but not really] [at a wedding] [smoking] [riding] [telling steve to quit smoking, but you secretly think it's hot] [steve blows cigarette smoke in your mouth] [king steve] [second chance] [idiots in love] [angst] [unprotected p in v sex] 1.5k words
a/n: got obsessed with joe and that damn cigarette at the tame impala concert last night, and then i saw blaize @harringtonsdiary post this, and the next thing i knew…here we are lol.
“Nuh-uh,” Steve scolds, hooking his thumb between your lips and tipping your chin back down to meet his gaze. “I know it feels so good, but you were saying something. Go ahead.”
He punctuates his words with a thrust of his hips, shoving his cock deeper inside your soaked cunt. Your thighs shake as you clamp down around him, your dress whispering against his rumpled button down.
It’s dark in this field, your only witnesses are the crickets and the moon, but you’re close enough to hear the music from the wedding reception happening just over the hill. The fairy lights strung from the trees in the distance cast a dim halo around Steve’s mussed hair as he sits on the ground with you straddling him.
“So drunk on my cock already,” he croons, “Can’t even remember what you were yelling at me about. Jesus, you must’ve really missed me, huh?”
“Shut up,” you hiss, but your reprimand falls flat when his thumb finds your clit beneath your dress, rubbing those perfect, firm circles that have you jerking into his touch despite yourself. “It’s only been two w-weeks.”
The sharp smell of smoke fills your nose, and you watch through heavy lids as Steve lifts his cigarette to his mouth again, the end flaring bright orange before dimming again.
The sight reminds you why you came out here in the first place.
“I told you,” you grit out, trying to ignore the way his swollen tip brushes that spot deep inside you that no one else can ever seem to reach. “R-robin sent me to get you for your best man, or man of honor—or whatever the fuck you’re called—speech, and then I find you out here doing that d-disgusting habit of yours again—”
“Disgusting?” he interrupts with an amused huff. “You sure about that?”
And when his eyes find yours again in the moonlight, he leans back on one arm and takes another slow pull from the cigarette. His lips purse, cheeks hollowing softly and revealing those dimples you used to kiss before he woke up in the morning.
You swallow hard, and your knees tremble in the dirt on either side of his hips, his cock twitching inside you. It’s not fair that he looks so hot doing it, too, with that smirk building at the corner of his mouth, and his tongue swiping over his bottom lip?
“Yes, Steve,” you whisper, breathy and desperate, your body arching against his. “It’s disgusting. This is why we took a break, remember? You don’t listen to me when I tell you it’s going to kill you one day—“
“God, you know what the worst part is?” he continues, tipping his head toward the sky like he didn’t even hear you. The smoke leaves his mouth in soft puffs as he speaks, drifting up towards the stars. “You keep telling yourself you hate it, because deep down…you actually like it.” His eyes drop back to yours. “Why do you think I didn’t quit these immediately when you asked, huh? Maybe I wanted to teach you a lesson.”
Despite the summer heat, a shiver rolls through you as he brings the cigarette up to his mouth again. Your breath catches as his eyes drop to your lips.
Then, he sits up and grabs your face, long fingers dimpling your cheeks and tilting your face down towards his and just…holding you there. His breath is hot against your cheek, and saliva pools in your mouth, your cunt clamping down on him hard in anticipation of his lips on yours.
His hand under your dress slips under your thigh, spreading you wider so he can push his cock in deeper before it returns to your clit. Your mouth parts, a whimper caught in your throat.
All it would take is one kiss to send you over the edge. Just a brush of his tongue against yours, and—
A stream of smoke hits your face.
You jolt back on instinct, eyes burning, but Steve’s hands settle on your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your ass as he holds you against him. You cough, your walls fluttering around his length and pulling a helpless grunt from his chest.
“Goddamn it, Steve—” you croak, but he’s not fighting with you anymore.
He’s fucking up into you now, his mouth on your neck, and you work in unison to pick up the pace, neither one of you willing to stop.
Your hands fly to his shoulder for balance, but you can’t help but trace his strong arms through his shirt, feeling his muscles shiver under your touch.
“I know what you like,” Steve says, “What you need. What turns you on. One cigarette and look at how wet you are for me.”
He’s right, you are wet. You’re practically dripping down his balls, soaking your inner thighs, and every pass over his hard, thick length is so slick and tight it draws whimpers unbidden from both your throats.
“Steve, you’re the one who dragged me into your lap out here, you think this is what I really need right now—”
“Yeah, well, you know what I really need?” he snaps, brown eyes flashing up in the dark. “I need you back in my bed every night.”
You swallow hard and your eyes drop to his lips.
“More?” he asks, and you’re already nodding. He lets go of your hip with one hand, and picks up the cigarette again. This time, when he exhales it into your mouth, the smoke isn’t as harsh. It’s almost…sweet. Especially when you close the distance and press your lips to his.
The familiar taste of him loosens something in your chest, and your hands fly to his hair, curling into the nape of his neck.
His brows furrow as he kisses you back, and his arms leave your hips to wrap around you, helping you ride him quick and hard. Just how he likes it.
“Will you come back to me, baby?” he pulls back to whisper against your mouth. “Fuck, I’ll do whatever….whatever you want. Anything, you know that—”
You kiss him again, slower this time, because the gentle press of your lips against his says more than any words can. His thumb returns to your clit, slipping under the fabric of your dress bunched around your hips, and he feels the familiar stuttering pattern of your breaths, the way your hips lock under his touch.
“Go ahead, sweetheart, come around my cock,” he groans. “I know you need it. I need it too. C’mon, please—”
And just like that, the hot band between your hips finally snaps. You come with a muffled cry of his name, your forehead falling against his shoulder as your walls pulse around him.
His hips jerk and you lift your head to cover his mouth with your own as his climax overtakes him and he moans, releasing deep inside you.
Your chests heave against each other as you slowly come down from the high. His cock twitches inside you, and he mouths at you neck, pulling soft whispers and promises from your lips as he tastes your skin.
You let yourselves savor that moment—until the music stops in the distance and you remember that Robin’s looking for her best man.
He’s quick to help you up, steadying you with an arm around your waist as your legs wobble underneath you, before tucking himself back in his clothes and raking a hand through his hair.
Your gaze drops to the dying embers of the cigarette on the grass beside you, and you grind the toe of your high heel into it, smothering it into the dirt.
“I’m still serious about you quitting, Steve,” you toss over your shoulder as you straighten your dress and prepare to walk back to the reception.
“Fine,” he says, coming up behind you and dropping a kiss to your shoulder. His warm, calloused hand trails down your arm until his fingers thread through yours. “Just as long as you never ask me to quit you ever again.”
Teasing Steve with a lollipop during a slow shift at Family Video...
“How does this place even stay open?” Steve mutters. He’s standing behind the counter with you, squinting out into the mid-day sun. “Zero customers in…what’s it been? Three hours?”
It’s one of those afternoon shifts at Family Video.
The ones where every time you glance at the clock on the wall, it’s only been two minutes since the last time you checked, so you spend the whole time in agony trying not to look at it.
It could also have something to do with the fact that you're trying not to notice how attractive your coworker looks in that green vest.
“I don’t even know," you reply, picking up a nearby cloth and dragging it across the counter in an attempt to keep your hands busy. "The passage of time down slows here. Like, a black hole."
There’s literally nothing left to do. All the returns have been shelved, the store is tidy and organized, but actually, you haven't cleaned under the register...
You’re shoving at the hunk of metal, attempting to push your rag underneath it when something catches your eye.
There, at the edge of the counter, sits the complimentary candy jar.
You and Steve have been steadily cleaning the thing out during shifts like these all summer. (And then guiltily re-filling it so you'd have something to give the kids who come in every now and then.) However, since you hadn't had a chance to buy more after your recent attack on the thing, you thought it was empty.
But there, at the very bottom, sits one lonely lollipop.
You risk a glance back at Steve, but his eyes are already pinned to the candy. You look at each other, then the jar, then each other again.
And you both lunge in unison.
His shoulder bumps yours, but your elbow digs into his ribs, forcing a grunt from him. His fingers are longer, so he reaches it first, but you pin his wrist against the cool glass with your own and pry it out of his hand.
“Goddamn it,” he mutters when your fingers close around the candy. “It’s a mystery flavor one, too!”
You grin triumphantly and pull out your prize. “Nice try. Sucker.”
“You’re not funny.” He settles back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning as you unwrap the lollipop. “Technically, I touched it first.”
“Well, technically...that doesn’t matter.” You brandish the stick, then pop the candy in your mouth. “ ‘Cause look whose mouth it’s in.”
And he does. Look at your mouth, that is. You try to ignore the swoop in your stomach as the afternoon light catches in his mussed hair, making it look as soft as warm caramel.
“You know,” he says slowly, “we could call it even and just…share.”
You snort. “Share? You can’t share a lollipop, are you insane?”
“Why not?
“It's juss—” You take the sucker out of your mouth to speak clearly. “Like…purposely swapping spit?”
He shrugs. “What’s wrong with swapping spit? You drink out of my water bottle all the time.” Steve’s eyes flick to yours. “It’s not any different than making out.”
Oh.
How can he just…say shit like that?
As if kissing your coworker is a perfectly normal thought to have. Of course, it is a frequent thought for you. Okay, more like an all-consuming one, but—whatever.
“At least tell me what flavor it is," he begs, taking a step towards you.
You hum, squinting up at him and twirling the candy in your mouth teasingly. “Kind of like strawberry, but less sour? Too tart for watermelon. I don't know, but it’s soooo good.”
His gaze drops to your lips. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“What? Flaunting my win?” you say, voice full of false innocence. “I would never!”
He huffs a laugh, then his hand finds the counter behind you with a smack. Your vision fills with broad chest, and he presses you back against the ledge, so close that you have to tip your head up to look at him.
“Careful,” he says. “I might have to revoke your water bottle privileges.”
You roll your eyes, then pull the lollipop out again. “Fine, Harrington. You want a taste that bad?”
His eyes drop to your lips. “So bad.”
You hold the candy up between you, but when he reaches for it, you snatch it back at the last second.
He swallows hard as you slip it back into your mouth, twirling your tongue around the hard sugar and blinking up at him from under your lashes.
When it clicks against your teeth, his eyes darken.
Suddenly, Steve grabs the sucker’s stick and pulls it from your mouth, and you’re not really sure who moves first, but a second later…his lips are on yours.
Your breath hitches as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips, then dips inside, tasting the sweetness there, and—God, it’s everything you dreamed of.
Steve groans softly, his exhale hot against your cheek as his fingers spread over your lower back to pull you closer, making your vest whisper against his. Your hands fly to his shirt, gripping the fabric for support as the carpet beneath your feet seems to tilt.
You could kiss him like this forever, actually. It’s syrupy sweet, the sugar on your tongue melting with the taste of him and creating this intoxicating, addictive—
Just then, the bell over the door chimes.
You break apart instantly, chests heaving. Steve chuckles as your hands fly to your flaming cheeks, and you whip around, putting on your best customer service face for whoever just walked in.
The sucker lies forgotten on the countertop. Something for you to clean up later.
“Oh, and by the way,” he whispers over your shoulder before turning back to the register. “it’s cherry.”
@djorkinnit and i talking on three different apps at the same damn time with different conversations on each of them including silly, horny, and serious topics LMAO
hi friends, i have a few people who are interested in merch for ‘Leather & Lace’ which like, pinch me what is my life?? BUT I wanted to hear some suggestions of what you guys ACTUALLY want!
i am wanting to look into merch, an audiobook , and a physical copy as well. if you have any knowledge on this kind of stuff, pls slide into my messages 💌
🐊🍒💖✨💌🐞
(all items will have to be altered for originality to not interfere with FX)
⋆.𐙚 ̊ cw — mdni, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, steve is kinda mean, he’s also very cocky, brat taming, no foreplay, he loves dirty talk, big dick!steve— please lmk if i missed anything
⋆.𐙚 ̊ summary — with your period looming right around the corner and the station’s ac blowing out right before the hottest day in indiana, you were an irritable mess. after hours of snappy comments and tantrums towards your boyfriend steve, he finally decides to show you who really calls the shots.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ authors note — hi guys idk what possessed me to write this but steve just gives brat tamer yk??? so excited to see djo and tame impala on monday so expect to be sick of me. also currently writing sparks and its the little things you do pt 2!!! please send in any smutty or fluffy requests you have :p
⋆.𐙚 ̊ wc — 3.78k
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ please do not copy, rewrite, or repost my works on any other platforms or pages.
today was undoubtedly one of the hottest indiana has ever seen. and of course, with the luck that your and your friends had, the AC at the squawk went down last night. you and robin had stood outside with flashlights in hand as steve fumbled with the fuses and plugs and such for an hour. no luck.
which meant for the station had an entire night to incubate with the blazing heat. walking in this morning felt like you had literally stepped into hell.
irritated was a massive understatement. you were hot, annoyed, bloated and puffy from your incoming period, extremely irritable, and exhausted all at once. it made for the worst combination in a situation like this.
and steve… oh bless him. he was just trying to be the supportive, sweet boyfriend in a time like this. and he was certainly in an affectionate mood— one where he was all soft and just wanted to cling to you at all times. the two of you had been practically cooking in the heat of the sound booth as you played each tape robin had requested and his idea of passing time meant touching any prt of you possible. and fortunately enough for her, she was out at the gas station grabbing some more ice for your water bottles to help cool you all down.
once you felt the uncomfortable beading of sweat form at your hairline, you stepped out and into the small living area, reaching into the fridge for some sort of snack. you could hear footsteps approaching.
steve slid up right behind you, his chest pressing against your back and his strong arms winding around your hips to hold you close. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and peppered sweet kisses to the skin there. “you smell so good, honey,” his voice a low, deep rumble that typically would make you melt.
but today, you just felt like a ball of raw, explosive nerves. you were so overwhelmed and hot and every single touch— even from steve— brought you closer to your break of overstimulation. the heat of his body against yours didn’t feel romantic like usual, it felt suffocating.
you stiffed and wiggled away from him, shoving his arms off of you in the process with a sharp, frustrated huff. “steve, seriously? get off,” you snapped, not even looking back at him as you closed the fridge and moved to the pile of unorganized records.
he blinked, frozen in the same position as he watched you aggressively shove the sleeves back into their intended place. he looked at you with these big, soulful eyes that made him look exactly like a kicked puppy. “i just wanted to be close to you,” he spoke softly, sounding genuinely hurt.
ten minutes later, he’s sauntered back in to find you on your knees, still organizing records. he leaned down over your shoulder, lips brushing the shell of your ear and his hands squeezing at your hips affectionately.
“stop touching me!” you snapped, practically jumping out of your skin to create distance between the two of you. “can you just leave me alone for a second? it’s a hundred degrees in here and i feel like i’m fucking melting. just… stop!”
steve visibly deflated as he stepped back. he didn’t get mad— he never really did the whole ‘angry’ thing with you— but he looked utterly defeated. he stood there for a moment too long, hands twitching at his sides uselessly, staring at you as if he couldn’t understand why his love was being completely rejected.
“i’m just trying to be sweet,” he whispered, his tone sounding small, guilty, and hurt.
you didn’t even look up from the records. “yeah, well your ‘sweetness’ is making me want to scream right now. just give me some space, steve.”
that was his breaking point. the kicked puppy look shifted into something much deeper. a flicker of tiredness behind steve’s eyes. he had spent the last four hours trying to be the most affectionate, attentive, and understanding boyfriend in a situation like this to lighten your sour mood. even ignoring the uncomfortable drip of sweat from his skin just to put your comfort first and all he got in return was snarky remarks and sharp shoves.
he sighed, a long, heavy sound that signaled a change in his mood. he didn’t move towards you this time. instead, he stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall to watch you for a moment. the warmth in his gaze never vanished, but it was now tempered with a new simmering frustration.
“right. space. got it,” he said, his voice losing that sweet, playful edge and instead becoming dull and flat.
he didn’t try touching you anymore, just stood and watched you with that quiet, disappointed intensity. he wasn’t mad or upset with you, he was just tired of being the punching bag for your changing hormones. the silence that filled the room was suffocating and heavy. for the first time all day, the lack of his touch had felt suspiciously loud.
after another hour of organizing, the two of you were back in the stuffy control room, the space feeling even smaller with the stifling heat. the air was stagnant and the only sound heard was the low hum if equipment and the muffled tune of the song through the headphones.
steve was slouched back in the chair beside yours, entirely too comfortable and his legs spread too wide. his jean clad knee was pressed up against yours, attracting even more heat to your skin. he was playing with a rubik’s cube and failing miserably. after another minute or so of turning it endlessly, he dropped it down onto the desk and let his hand idly wander over to your bare thigh before he could even realize he was doing it.
you picked it up by his finger and tugged him off, letting his hand fall back into his own lap.
he looked at you then. the tight line of your clenched jaw, the way your brows pinched towards each other out of irritation, how your arms crossed over your chest like a physical wall you’ve just put up. he felt that familiar sting of rejection immediately. but he wasn’t ready to give up, not yet. he truly believed that if he could just make you smile a little, if he could crack the shell of your bad mood, everything would revert back to normal.
he shifted a little closer, practically trying to conjoin by your sides, completely ignoring the fact that you’re both almost sweating through your clothes. he leaned in, his voice dropping down to a playful, teasing whisper that always managed to make you giggle.
“you know,” he murmured, a small, hopeful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “i’ve heard the best cure for a bad mood is a very handsome boyfriend. and lucky for you, i’m right here. free of charge.”
he punctuated the end of his joke with a soft nudge to your shoulder. that alone would’ve been enough to make you crack a smile.
except you didn’t. instead, you sighed and rolled your eyes. “shut up, steve,” you retorted, your voice cold and sharp. “you’re not being funny, you’re being annoying. please, for the love of god, just stop talking and stop trying to touch me.”
the grin vanished instantly. his face fell as he recoiled back slightly as if the words hit him like a physical blow. he looked at you, his expression shifting from hopeful to genuinely bewildered. he wasn’t just feeling like a punching bag anymore, he felt like there was a real resentment towards him. he was trying everything— the sweetness, the humor, the patience— and you were treating him like he was a complete inconvenience.
the door to the booth swung open to reveal robin with two iced coffee’s in hand. “hey, so i got the ice and figured i’d get us something cold to—“ her gaze darting between the two of you, noticing the hard line of steve’s clenched jaw and the way your body was radiating anger. she took note of the immediate tension simmering in the heat of the room. “yikes. did someone die in here orrrr…”
steve didn’t answer, he just looked at her desperately for some kind if support, and then back to you. he tried one last time, a tentative, barely there brush of your hands.
that was the final straw. you pulled away like you’d been burned. “i can’t do this. i can’t deal with you right now!” you snapped, so incredibly overwhelmed and overstimulated that you could seriously just break down and cry right here.
steve’s hand stayed suspended in the air for a heartbeat before he slowly pulled it back. the soft, pleading eyes were gone. the tiredness was too. it shifted into something much colder and harder now. something much more assertive. he didn’t say a word to either of you, just stood and grabbed his keys from the small rack by the door with a sharp clink. “we’re leaving.” there was no room for argument.
the ride home was suffocatingly silent. his hands were practically white-knuckling the steering wheel the entire ride home. he didn’t touch you once. the lack of his hands on you, which felt like an annoyance an hour again, now had the air in the car feeling ominous and heavy.
the moment you guys were in the apartment, the cool air hit the two of you like a truck, yet the tension was still boiling. steve didn’t let you get settled, instead, his hands were on your waist with a firm grip as he guided you into your shared bedroom and shut the door behind him with his foot. it made you gulp.
he was on the verge of breaking. he turned you towards him and stepped back to create distance between the two of you. “alright, you done with your little tantrum now?” he asked, his hands on his hips like an angry father. “you gonna tell me what your problem is now? i have spent the last eight hours trying to be the best boyfriend i could possibly be. i’ve been sweet, i’ve been patient, i’ve tried to make you laugh— and you’ve just been treating me like shit all day. like i’m something you have to tolerate.”
“i told you, i’m just hot! you’re acting like i’m some big villain for not wanting you all over me when it was a thousand degrees in there,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly under the intensity of his gaze. “all i asked for was some space!”
steve let out a sharp, mocking laugh, his eyes darkening. “space? you didn’t want space. you wanted a punching back.” he stepped forward into your space, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “it was never about you being hot or wanting space. it’s about the things you said to me and the way you spoke to me.” before you could react, he pushed at your shoulders, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you fall back. your bottom hit the bed, your palms flying by your hips to keep you upright.
he didn’t give you even a second to breathe. he stepped between your thighs, cornering you against the bed with his large frame hovering over you and blocking out the rest of the room. he reached down, his fingers gripping your chin firmly as he tipped it up so you were forced to look at him.
the sweetness was completely gone, now replaced by a smoldering, dominant heat that made your stomach feel all tingly. he looked so devastatingly hot right now— his hair slightly messy from the day, his eyes narrowed and piercing. he looked like he was done playing nice.
“you’ve been acting like a little brat all day,” he said, his voice dropping to that low dangerous purr that vibrated in your chest. he gave your chin a little shake, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a way that was demanding and possessive.
a small, mocking smirk played on his lips, his gaze scanning your face as if he was analyzing every bit of your stubbornness. “you think you can just be mean to me all day and then… what? go to bed like everything is fine?” he clicked his tongue and shook his head. “i don’t think so.”
he leaned in closer, his breath slow and controlled as it hit your skin in warm bursts. his scent was intoxicating from this distance. the grip on your chin tightened just enough to remind you who was in control. “say it,” he commanded, his voice dropping to that familiar octave that was nothing but raw and assertive. “apologize for being so mean to me today.”
even with steve looming over you, clearly in full control, you couldn’t help it. irritability was still humming through your body. you rolled your eyes and tried to pull your face away from him. it was no use. “i’m not apologizing,” you muttered, your voice still laced with that stubborn, snooty tone. “you’re just being dramatic.”
steve’s eyes flared, a dark, dangerous glint flickering behind them as he stared at you. he didn’t argue, didn’t plead. instead, he let out a deep guttural chuckle that sent chills down your body. “dramatic? of honey, you have no idea how dramatic i can be when i’ve been pushed.”
before you could snap back, he was lifting you in one fluid motion and flipping your position so he was sat at the edge of the bed with you straddling his thighs. one hand wrapped around the column of your throat— not squeezing, just resting— while the other tangled in your hair and pulled you into a searing kiss.
you gasped against him in surprise as he tugged on your roots to tilt your head back and gain more leverage over you. the force that he kissed you with was borderline predatory.
it was hungry and messy and completely uninhibited. your mouths moved together with a wet, slapping sound as your tongues tangled in a frantic battle for dominance. steve tasted like strawberries and the gatorate he’d been drinking at the station, a mix that made your head spin. he groaned deep in his throat, a vibration you could feel in your own chest he sucked your lower lip into his mouth, tugging on it hard before letting it snap back.
you fought back, hands roaming across his chest and neck, pulling him in closer as if you were trying to merge your bodies into one. you bit at his lower, a sharp, playful nip that drew a long hiss from him. he responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping across the wet cavern of your mouth, claiming every corner and tasting every inch. his hands moved down to your hips, rolling them into his own.
the sounds each of you made were primal— wet, sloppy noises of tongues sliding against tongues, punctuated by deep ragged breaths for air that you both forgot you even needed. every time you broke away for a second of oxygen, it was only to snap back together with even more intensity, your lips bruising each others in their haste.
steve’s hands left your lips to fumble with the buckle of his belt, quickly shoving his jeans and boxers down to his knees and freeing himself while sucking on the pink muscle of your tongue. he was painfully hard already. he gave himself a few slow strokes while his free hand pulled your shorts and panties to the side, running his tip through your leaking slit.
he pushed into you with a devastatingly slow thrust, hands coming back to rest on your hips to keep you flush against him. you pulled away to let your head fall back in overwhelming fullness. he was fucking loving it.
he smiled up at you with that stupid cocky grin, knowing he was pressed right up against your cervix, making you go completely soft on him. “yeah? this was all you needed? just had to get you all dumb on my cock?” he teased before leaning forward to suck deep purple marks into your skin. “ready to apologize yet?”
you bit down on your puffy lip to suppress a moan, your stomach tensing every time he’d readjust the slightest bit. the stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, but you could surely feel the building pressure from the lack of warming up.
he took your silence as your answer, nodding slowly with that sly grin pulling at his lips. “got it. you still wanna be difficult then?” he asked, pushing up even further into you. your nails dug into his shoulders as you whimpered, feeling impossibly full. “that’s fine, honey. have it your way.”
“fuck you, steve,” you tried to snap out, instead, it just sounded like a pleading beg.
he smiled at you like he’d just received the best invitation of his life. “oh baby,” his hands moved to grab handfuls of your ass, holding you up just slightly as his voice rumbled. “i will.” his fingers dug into your skin with a bruising force as he thrust up into your sopping cunt with a violence that knocked the wind out of you. he buried his cock so deep inside that it felt like he was trying to reach your soul.
“you just can’t help yourself, can you?” he mocked, his voice dark and triumphant as he watched you absolutely eat this up. “you want to be all mouthy and bratty, but you fuckin’ love it when i take over, isn’t that right? love when i put you in your place?”
the moan that spilled from your lips was borderline pornographic as he fucked you with a slow, punishing rhythm that made you feel every vein and ridge of his cock against your gummy walls. he moved his hands to your hips, forcing you to take every single inch as he steered your body to meet his thrusts.
it was embarrassing how fast you could feel the coil in your stomach twisting tighter. he just looked so sexy like this— all dominant and messy and dark. you’d rarely seen this side of him.
every single punch of his mushroom tip against your cervix was a declaration of his ownership. he was driving into you with everything he had, his breath somehow still so slow and controlled while you were falling apart above him.
he began to pick up his pace rapidly, relentlessly pounding up into you. your eyes stung with tears as he stretched you out so perfectly, pulling you down to meet each thrust just to push himself deeper inside of you.
“that’s it, baby. fuckin’ take it,” he gritted through his teeth, his voice strained and raw. “feel every inch of me. want you to remember exactly how it feels when i’m the one in charge.” smack. his hand landed heavy against your bottom, making the unshed tears gush down your cheeks as the pleasure became overwhelming.
he moaned loud and unapologetic at the feel of your cunt squeezing him. “you’re so tight,” he groaned, his cockiness returning full force. “you love this, don’t you pretty girl? you love it when i stop being all sweet and kind and just take what i need.”
you couldn’t even scream. the only sounds coming out were little broken whimpers and cries as he hit that certain spot over and over again while you clung helplessly to his shoulders. “oh! mmph! i’m sorry, stevie! fuck, i’m— i’m sorry! please! oh god, please!”
steve let out a low, triumphant sound, but he didn’t stop. instead, he slowed down just enough to let the friction build, his eyes hooded and shimmering with something you couldn’t make out. he leaned in, his lips grazing your jawline, but he didn’t kiss you. instead, he let out a quiet hum.
“what was that?” he mocked, his voice a teasing and arrogant purr. he leaned in further, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “i didn’t hear you, sweetheart. are you sorry for being a mean little brat to me? are you sorry for treating me like trash all day?”
he didn’t wait for an answer from you. he began to pull out, slowly, agonizingly, until he was almost completely gone, only to drive right back in with a devastating, slow-motion punch. he wasn’t just fucking you anymore, he was claiming you. pushing deep into your guts, forcing you to feel every single inch of his cock as he stretched you open.
“god, this pussy’s so tight, honey,” he groaned, his voice now a thick, sultry drawl. “so fuckin’ pretty. just look at how she’s gripping me… she’s practically begging for it.”
he gave you a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, making you gasp and arch into him as he stretched you wide. he sounded and looked completely enamored by your body, but his teasing edge still hadn’t left. it was a reminder that he knew exactly how much power he had over you in this moment.
“it’s such a shame, really,” he whispered, his voice dripping with mock sympathy and he stared at the way your lips stretched around him. “it’s too bad you’ve been such a brat today. truly a tragedy.”
his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt to hold you waist, pulling you even closer to him as his cock pulses inside your warmth. “i would’ve loved to get my mouth on her,” he purred, his voice suggestive and dangerous. “i would’ve spent hours between these pretty legs, eating you out, tasting every single inch of you until you were shaking and cryin’ for me. i would’ve made you lose your fuckin’ mind on my tongue.”
he felt your core clench around him desperately, a needy spasm at the mere thought, and he chuckled a dark, cocky sound.
“but since you wanted to be so mean to me?” he pulled out just enough to make you mewl before slamming back into you, a hard, sudden thrust that made your eyes roll back into your skull. “think i’ll just keep you stuffed full of me for the rest of the night instead. think you need to be reminded who you belong to.”
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