thinking heavily this afternoon about steve (high!steve, knight!steve, mean!steve, whatever pick ur poison) pulling that move where it’s the most literal interpretation of fucking you INto the mattress
i’m talking, on your stomach with his hand either on your head or back using you as leverage to rail you as hard as he possibly can. like, there’s no room for negation— you’re not moving
maybe he is being a little mean and just talking filthy and pulling your hair. perhaps a rough smack to the ass or two but then afterwards is the epitome of sweet
anwAY!! xoxo emma stevesgother
sort of mean!steve; rough sex; reader has a vagina!
EMMA!!! 🫶🏻 this is so true and also real.
steve who’s feeling a little mean, a little frustrated. needs to fuck it out of his system. you’re so incredibly willing to help him out.
“anything you want,” you breathe.
he gets you on your elbows and knees, the mattress dipping underneath you. he puts a hand on your upper back to push you down, making you arch.
he spanks you so hard you gasp, then drags his blunt fingernails along the sensitive flesh to make you whine. he does it again, then again, then again.
“take it so good for me,” he says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “so pretty, honey. you alright? are you sure?”
and at first, steve pins you down with a hand tangled in your hair at the nape of your neck. his strong forearm keeps your torso flush with the sheets. he isn’t being nice. he’s railing you. making the bed shake, moans punched out of you.
“if i didn’t know any better,” he groans, pausing to pant, his cock pistoning in and out of you. “i’d think my cock isn’t splitting you open right now.”
he pushes all the way in, and leans forward to whisper in your ear. “but it is, isn’t it? and you’re taking it like a little slut.”
you gasp. steve laughs.
then he pins you down with his body. drapes himself over your back. laces his fingers through yours, palm to the back of your hand, to keep you from moving.
he’s shoving your body into the bed. making it groan. his body is hot and warm on yours, his cock finding your sweet spot. it’s hard to breathe, but you can take it. always want to be his angel.
“get off first,” you groan.
he thinks you mean literally, so he starts getting up, but your fingers clench around his.
“i want you to cum first,” you clarify. “i don’t care what you want, just take it.”
he throws himself back onto you. gives you a little kiss under your ear. his lips tickle the shell of it.
“don’t be cute. i know you couldn’t handle that.”
“but i want to,” you breathe. “make me handle it.”
steve’s hips snap into you again without warning. you cry out while one of his hands moves from yours to your hair. he wraps his fingers through the nape of it again, then gently tugs you head up.
he groans and grunts into your ear. you can’t stop making noises. pathetic little noises that make his cock kick.
each thrust is accompanied by a word in a low voice, so low that you feel his chest vibrate into your back. “you. make. me. someone. i. don’t. want. to. be.”
you gasp.
“but you feel so fuckin’ good,” he groans. “shit — shit —“
he angles your head back awkwardly, then kisses you. it’s tongue and teeth. whimpering and licking into each other’s mouths.
“see what you do to me?” he asks. “makin’ me the bad guy.”
steve lets your hair go and your head falls onto the mattress. his fingers lace through yours again.
“hold on.”
you didn’t think it was possible for him to fuck so hard and fast. or anyone, for that matter. you’re not sure how he has the stamina. but he somehow does, and it’s like he’s fucking every bad thing in his head into your pussy.
“cum,” he grits. “know you’re close, fucking filthy —“
and you do. untouched. his body and words too much for you.
steve laughs again, triumphant, exhausted. “knew you would. ‘m right there, hang on —“
your eyes roll back when he cums. fills you up to good. and you have no where to go, no where to escape his cock, even though the pressure is too much. you have to take it, just like you wanted.
“jesus,” he gasps, laying over you still. “shit. you’re unreal, honey.”
“y’feel better?” you slur.
“all better,” he says softly, moving off of you, making you frown, losing the comfort of his weight. “it’s my turn to take care of you now, isn’t that right?”
love charlie down but imagine luke still being a blond white boy and the Implications that has for 1. percy looking at luke like a reflection in a funhouse mirror and seeing the person he could become 2. thalia lashing out at percy bc he looks like luke and choosing to become a hunter & 3. annabeth fucking chase’s two most important men in her life looking like the same boy … hey what if i throw myself off a cliff and die
