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#fanfic ask thing
goshdangronpa · 2 months
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For the fic thing, uhhhhh, 11 for... whatever. Or all of them, if you want!
"11. Was there a scene that you hadn't originally planned to include? Why did you decide to fit it in?"
Any fic I want, you say? Well, if you're asking ...
The outline for "Kaede's Rhapsody" was initially 13 chapters. It's grown to 19, and though I'm satisfied with the current plan, it may change again! The biggest shift by far was that Chapters 5 through 7 were originally all a single part. It would've started with Kaede rereading her text convo with Miu while standing outside her lab. I liked the idea of showing the text convo play out in real time, which grew so long that I split it off. Chapter 6 would've been the lab scene from Miu’s POV ... but the planned intro at the gym ALSO grew so long that I split it off. Between giving the story a scene of Kaede using Miu's invention and elevating a little joke (Himiko witnessing the bathroom confrontation) into a surprisingly substantial subplot about spreading rumors, I'm happy with the result.
"I DISAGREE: An Ibuki Mioda SDR2 Protag Swap AU" pretty much consists entirely of unplanned scenes. It was just supposed to be an outline of random ideas. I just had to go and make a story of it ... Even among those scenes, the first trial stands out. Tightly woven murder mysteries are not my forte, so I just would've written about the victim, the killer, and the real cause of the murder. But writing about all that inevitably led me to think of potential clues and red herrings and courtroom drama, enough to fill out a whole chapter. It's still not the tightest mystery, but it has a lot of notes compared to other I DISAGREE posts, so at least those folks like how it turned out. So did I - it was really fun to write, and especially to plant those clues in the preceding scenes! When I get around to Chapter 2, another trial scene is in the plans.
"To Change a Lightbulb," "PERCUSSIVE OVERDRIVE," and "57 Minutes in Frozen Hell" were all written in fairly quick bursts, so their scene layouts were pretty much unchanged from first to final draft. I am capable of not overthinking my stories.
Thank you so much for asking!!!
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steddiecameraroll · 3 months
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ao3 (includes pt2)
Eddie knows he’s gonna lose it one day. Every single time he watches Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimands the feral teens, he wants to jump the man’s bones.
He ends up pinching whatever exposed skin he has when the urge hits him, leaving itty bitty bruises behind.
It works for months until one evening when Eddie lets his guard down and is 3 beers deep. Steve is leaning against the wall with his shoulder holding himself up. Eddie is telling him about how he had to haul Mike off Dustin the day before and Steve out of habit slides his hand up onto his hip.
Eddie stops midsentence and lets his eyes follow the long lean line of Steve’s body to his fingers.
“What?” Steve asks in confusion.
“Huh?” Eddie’s mouth is open when he looks back up.
“You stopped talking.”
“Well fuck, man.” Eddie sighs and flops against the wall near Steve, his back hitting flat and puffing out a huff of air. “You-you do that bitchy fucking stance and it drives me crazy. I wanna…UGH!” He covers his face, the beer can he’s holding presses against his cheek.
“You wanna what?” Steve sounds nervous.
Eddie whines and stomps his feet a little, trying to hold back his answer. It’s so close to falling out, resting on the tip of his tongue.
“You wanna what, man?” Steve’s voice coming out stronger like he’s daring Eddie to be honest.
Eddie drops his hands and pouts over at Steve. “Don’t make me say it.” He shifts from one foot to the other.
“Say what? You’re acting weird.” Steve stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Oh goooood, then you do that.” Eddie whines. “You don’t even know, look at you.” He sighs and flops his arms in defeat.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve stares like he’s watching a car crash.
“I WANT TO FUCK YOU! You stand like that and-and I can’t think. It makes me crazy. Like-like feral animal crazy. I want to rip your clothes off and scratch my nails down your chest and watch you tell those little shits off. I can’t fucking take it!” Eddie groans, spins on his heels, and stomps away.
Steve stands in shock, letting Eddie’s words sink in. After a brief moment he shrugs to himself and murmurs, “ok.”
Robin’s head pops around the corner. “What’d you say?”
Pt 2-ish
coffee? ☕️🍩💕
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corrodedcorpses · 9 months
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Steve “cant control his boners” Harrington getting so turned on by you in a bikini at the lake he has to find a spot behind a tree to jackoff
(Anon thank you so much for this. This is the first thing I’ve finished in months AND my first ever Steve fic without Eddie 🥺🖤)
18+ MDNI
Oh my mind instantly went to slightly Perv!Steve
He totally didn’t overhear you and your friends talking about going to the lake this weekend at lunch on Friday and it’s absolutely a coincidence that he happens to run into you and your friends while he’s out there “to take a dip, take his mind of things, get back with nature” and whatever other smooth line falls from his lips as he gives you his trademark flirty Harrington smirk, running his fingers through his hair in a way he knows you love.
It’s all going great for Steve, he’s chatting you up, making you blush and giggle, you’re both in your own little world, until your friends interrupt you both. Teasing you two about actually going for a swim, you know, the reason you all came here in the first place.
That’s when things start to get a little harder for Steve.
He watches you shimmy out of your shorts, your ass bouncing slightly and he swears his jaw must be on the floor. Your bikini bottoms hugging your curves perfectly, slightly digging into the plush of your ass. Whatever blood had rushed to Steve’s cheeks quickly goes south as you rip your shirt over your head, your boobs jiggling as you do, your bikini top digging in just as much as your bottoms.
You look at Steve expectantly and he realises he’s still fully clothed.
“Oh, I-um,” Steve starts to stutter, shit. He has to get out of here, he can feel his pants tightening by the second and knows he’s going to be nothing but a stuttering mess and very ‘un-smooth’, if he stays.
He mumbles out some half assed excuse about “the time getting away from him” or “forgetting something important he has to do”, honestly he’s not really sure as he turns on his heels and quickly makes his way back through the forest, leaving you staring at him confused as you watch him leave. You don’t have time to mull over it too much when you hear your friends calling your name as you turn and start to walk into the lake.
Steve stops a little bit into the forest, ducking behind a tree and resting his back against it as he screws his eyes shut, throwing his head back against it as he curses himself. He fully intends to get back to his car at least before taking care of his problem but he knows he’s not going anywhere when he hears the half giggle - half squeal that you let out as your friend splashes you, the sound making his dick twitch.
He groans as he cups and squeezes himself through his shorts. He ducks out from behind the tree, moving a couple of trees over so he can get the perfect view of you while still being concealed by the trees.
Steve quickly shoves his shorts down enough to free himself, his cock slapping his stomach as he quickly spits on his palm before he tightly wraps his fingers around his cock. The sight before him has all sensible thoughts leaving his head, not even caring at this moment if anyone happens to walk past him.
You’re in the lake up to your thighs, goosebumps erupting on your skin as the cold water laps around you, your skin slightly glistening from when your friends must have splashed you.
He follows the water droplets as they run down in between your breasts. He has to bite down on his fist to stop from moaning as he swears he can see your hard nipples through your bikini top.
You move further into the water, Steve’s hand speeding up slightly frustrated as he loses sight of some of your body.
He makes a frustrated sound when you dip under the water but audibly gasps when you pop back up, your hair wet and your head tilted back. He imagines being on his knees in front of you, getting to taste you as you throw your head back exactly like that.
That thought has precum dripping down his cock and mixing with his saliva as he feels his stomach tighten, the image so vivid in his head he swears he can almost taste your juices on the tip of his tongue. He’s embarrassingly close already, his hips rutting into his fist as he very softly whines your name over and over again.
You shiver again, wrapping your arms around yourself, causing your boobs to squish together, accentuating your cleavage perfectly and oh god he’s going to cum already.
Steve can’t get the image of cumming all over your boobs out of his head as he feels himself make a mess all over his hand and the leaves and sticks below him.
He softly whines and groans as he cums harder and faster than he has in a long time. His mind only filled with thoughts of you.
Realisation hits Steve like a truck as he opens his eyes to see the mess he’s made. He curses as he quickly tucks himself back in his pants, wiping his hand on a nearby bush and his shorts before quickly dashing back to his car without looking back. Shaking his head at himself as he mumbles about being such an idiot to himself.
But, if he had looked back at you he would’ve seen you staring right at his not so inconspicuous hiding spot with a satisfied smirk on your face.
(Tagging some mutuals that might be interested @wroteclassicaly @andvys @littledemondani @usedtobecooler @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiemunsonspantschain @screammunson @ilovecupcakesandtea @mysticmunson @cursedyuta @ghost-proofbaby @munsonsgirl71 @pxrxcxa @solarluvs )
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messrsbyler · 2 years
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ao3 authors who have no social media are are so mystical. they really be writing and posting some of the most perfectly crafted pieces of media and then disappearing without a trace
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astermath · 18 days
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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!
HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!
wc: 1.4K
notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!
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Steve is one attentive boyfriend.
It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.
He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.
So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?
It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?
You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.
“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.
The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.
The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.
"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"
You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"
"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"
"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.
"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"
Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.
"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.
"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."
The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.
Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"
You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.
By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.
Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.
Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.
Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.
"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.
"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"
The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.
"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."
He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.
"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.
"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.
"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."
The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”
He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”
You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.
“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.
“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
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varilien · 7 months
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halloween idea: werewolfwood ??? :]c
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okay sorry this wasn't going to be vashwood but i put on a couple random werewolf movies while working on it and they were consistently SUFFUSED with romantic themes so. coughs.
werewolfwood as ever has a cranky face but a soft little heart :)
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ao3-crack · 2 years
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(x)
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lucabyte · 2 days
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Not all who wander are lost. Some who wander, however, are extremely, extremely lost.
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slaybestieslay946 · 2 months
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HIIIII OMG IM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THE READER JOINS LUKE AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT WAS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SOSO MUCH THANK YOUUU
if it's not much can i request something else? like a 5+1 thing where it's like 5 times luke and reader didn't realize they were acting like a couple, and one time reaized it and made it official!
THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQ SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG IVE BEEN SOOO BUSY AND I RLLY WANTED TO GET THIS ONE PERFECT.
I sorta changed it a bit so Luke is down bad and reader is the one who doesn't realise they were acting like a couple.
You Didn't Realise?!
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MASTERLIST
summary: 5 ways Luke acts like your boyfriend, and the one reason you realised and made it official
word count: 2800
pairing: luke castellan x apollo!reader
warnings: minor swearing
I : He always looks for you first
When Luke returned from his quest, bloodied and battered, stumbling down half blood hill with a scar down his face, you were the first one he looked for. 
He quickly spotted you, your hair shining in the sun. The sun always found you, like a magnetic tether, a trait inherited from your father. 
In some ways, Luke could relate. He too also felt constantly drawn to you, and as soon as he caught sight of your face, all the humiliation from failing his quest melted away. 
You were laughing with one of your half-siblings, playfully joking like you always did. And then your sibling nudged you, pointing up at Luke, and the smile dropped. Even in his dazed state, he noticed the way your face contorted in worry as you began to sprint up the hill towards him. 
He wanted to wipe the sad expression away and replace it with the bright smile you usually sported. 
You continued towards him, only slowing from your sprint when you were just metres away, coming to a stop directly in front of him. 
Immediately, you took his face in your hands, inspecting the slight cuts and bruises that covered it. 
“Not even gonna say hello?” He panted, suddenly out of breath, partly from his general exhaustion, and partly from the way you were holding his face. 
“Hello Luke. Now tell me where it hurts.” You asked, moving your hands away from his face and running them down his sides, carefully watching his reaction to the pressure. 
“Nothing hurts. I’m all good, Doc.” He chuckled to mask his wince as you skimmed over the patchwork of bruises. 
“Like hell you are. We’re getting you to the infirmary. Where are Beckendorf and Rodriguez?” You asked, wrapping a hand around his shoulder to help him down the hill. 
“Just comin’.” Luke said, jerking his head back in the direction he had just come from, and when you looked back for yourself, you could see the other two boys at the top of the hill, looking in significantly better shape than he did. 
“Alright. C’mon then, we gotta get you patched up.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” He answered, the same dazed smile 
“You’ll be the death of me one day, y’know that?” 
“Mhm.” 
And as the rest of the camp looked on at the pair of you, they couldn’t help but wonder, when would you finally get together?
II : He always saves you dessert
Luke watched as you walked into the dining pavilion late, and as usual there was a patched up camper trailing behind you. 
You turned to give the boy a stern talking to, more than likely chastising him for being injured in the first place, before striding up to collect your food. 
Of course, when you turned up 20 minutes late to dinner, the dessert options became severely limited, and by the time you arrived there was no cake left, only a few pots of yoghurt made from the strawberries in the field. 
Luke watched as you screwed your nose up in disgust. You hated yoghurt, he knew that (obviously). 
You sighed, cutting your losses and retreating to the apollo table, a few end slices of bread and salad items being the only things on your plate. 
“Hey man, how’d you get an extra portion?” Chris asked from beside Luke, and he snapped his gaze away from you and back to his brother. 
“Oh, yeah, it’s for Y/N.” 
Chris rolled his eyes, “Of course it is. You gonna give it to her, or are you just gonna sit here staring?” 
“Shut up.” 
“Y’know I’m right.” 
“You’ll be right when you admit you love staring at Clarisse in capture the flag.” Luke replied quickly, standing up to walk over to you. 
Chris mumbled something slightly incoherent, but Luke didn’t pay him any mind as he strode towards the Apollo table, plate in hand. 
“Hey. Long day?” He asked, smirking at you while holding the plate behind his back so you couldn’t see it. 
“Ugh, you have no idea Castellan. And I missed dessert again! Can you believe that?” You complained loudly, waving your crust of bread around like you were conducting an orchestra.
“Hmm, sounds rough. Lucky for you, someone saved you an extra portion.” He dramatically produced the plate from behind his back, revealing the extra large slice of cake he’d stolen from one of the nymphs. 
You gasped in delight as he placed it before you, “Thank you!” 
Luke couldn’t help but grin as well as you tore into it with glee, “Well, I know vanilla's your favourite, couldn’t have you missing out, could we?”
You sighed, “You’re the best.” 
“I know,” He preened before softening his voice slightly, “Just don’t overwork yourself, ‘kay?” 
“Alright. That goes for you too, hero.” You bargained, gazing at him intensely.
“Whatever you say, Doc.” He smirked, before turning around and leaving you to it. 
You continued eating your slice of cake, unable to fight away the bright grin that invaded your face. 
“You two are disgusting.” Will Solace remarked, the similar smile on his face not matching the tone of his words. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You- He- Ugh! You’re so hopeless!” 
III : He always calls you up for demonstrations
“Hmm, I need someone to demonstrate…” He pondered out loud, surveying the archery range for someone suitable. And, as usual, Luke’s eyes were magnetically drawn to you as you walked past his group of students. 
“And who better than my favourite daughter of Apollo! Hey, Y/N, c'mere a sec!” 
You spun around to work out who was calling you over, rolling your eyes fondly as you realised it was the son of Hermes, as usual. 
“What do you need now, Castellan?” You asked, striding over to the group. 
“Just a quick demonstration from the best archer in camp.” 
You sighed yet again, but gave in, just like you always did when he was involved. 
“Fine.” 
“Great! Now, kids, let's see how a professional does it.” 
Luke then led the group around so they were parallel to you, and they could inspect your form as you fired. 
You held up your bow, removing an arrow from the quiver slung around your shoulder and notching it into position all in one fluid movement.
“See, look how good her form is. Perfect posture. One foot forward, torso turned to the side,” Luke whispered, as if narrating a nature documentary for national geographic, “She pulls the string back to her cheek, breathes in, and releases!” He cried, and you did just that, sending the arrow flying into the centre of the target. 
“A perfect shot.” Luke declared, smiling at you in pride. 
You shrugged, “I never miss.” 
“Alright kids, have a go yourselves, see if you can replicate Y/N’s form!” He said, sending them all rushing forwards to collect bows and have a go for themselves on the archery range. 
“You need any more help? Or am I free to go?” You asked teasingly, placing the bow and quiver back in the right spot.
“Hm, I suppose you're done. Although, your posture could use a little work.”
“Oh, I thought it was perfect?” 
“Did I say that?��� He mused, although he was unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. 
“Bye Castellan.” You sang, flicking his shoulder as you walked past him. 
He turned around to watch you walk away, a tinge of blush coating his cheeks. 
“Is she your girlfriend?” A small voice piped up from beside him, and he turned to see that one of the kids he was teaching hadn’t yet begun archery. 
“No!” He said, all too quickly, before ushering the girl towards the bows. 
VI : He’s always watching you work
“Ok, so, you’re going to need to keep an eye on that cut alright? And try not to get any mud in it this time, we don’t want it getting infected again, do we?”
The kid you were currently treating nodded vigorously, probably thinking that the more engaged he seemed the faster he would escape the infirmary. 
“Alright, you can go back to training now.” You sighed, silently praying that the young Ares boy would at least try and be gentle on the lines of stitching in his arm, although you didn’t have much hope. 
He thanked you quickly, before running off out of the room, grabbing his sword and nearly slashing through a bright-eyed Luke Castellan on his way. 
“Oh, god. What have you done now?” You asked, hands on your hips. 
He held his hands up in surrender, “Nothing, nothing. I’m all good. Just had some free time and thought I’d come see my favourite Apollo kid.”
“You know you’re allowed in here unless you're injured or visiting someone, right?” You reminded gently, hiding your bright smile behind an exasperated expression. 
“Actually, I’m both of those things.” 
“Really?”
“Yep. I’m visiting you, and my heart is awfully wounded by how cruelly you treat me.” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes, walking back to the drawer you had been organising before the arrival of your most boisterous patient. 
“Does that mean I can stay?” He asked, following you with swift strides. 
“I can’t exactly stop you, can I?”
He chuckled quietly, giving you shoulder a quick squeeze before looking down at the drawer full of bandages you were sorting through. 
“D’you want some help?”
You shrugged noncommittally and he immediately knelt down beside you and began rolling several bandages up and sorting them into their proper sections, humming happily under his breath the whole time. 
And that’s how the pair of you continued for the rest of the afternoon. If you needed something of a high shelf, Luke was reaching up to grab it for you. If you wanted a specific item or tool, he was already beside you, holding it out as if he had read your mind. 
And the only reward he wanted for his hard work was to see your face melt into a smile when the pair of you locked eyes. And of course the lollipop you offered him at the end of the day for being so helpful. 
V: He always saves you a seat a campfire
Luke was well aware that, as an Apollo kid, you loved the campfire. Despite the fact that you weren’t as musically talented as your siblings, it always brought a smile to your face to see them perform. He loved watching as you clapped along in earnest, cheering loudly when the song finished and loudly demanding another. 
So, he always saved you a seat (right beside him, of course). 
But, on this particular night, he’d caught wind of the fact some Demeter boy had been sniffing around, saying that he was going to ask you to sit next to him, instead of Luke. 
“Aw, is Lukey boy getting jealous?” Chris jeered, following Luke’s gaze as it landed on you, conversing with the boy from Demeter. 
“No. Not like she’ll sit with him anyway.” He proclaimed, his voice filled with a certainty he did not feel. 
“You sure?” Chris asked, watching as you laughed brightly at whatever joke the boy was making. 
“Oh, I’m so sure. Certain, even. So certain.” Luke said, drumming his fingers on the wood of the table, while trying to reassure himself. 
This evening, you got to the campfire before him, and as he began to walk towards where you were sitting, he caught a glimpse of that boy making a beeline to you from the other direction. 
He quickened his pace, only slowing slightly to revel in the way your face broke into sunshine when you caught sight of him. 
Unfortunately, that momentary lapse in concentration was nearly his undoing, as only mere moments later, your attention was arrested by the boy from Demeter who appeared to have magically materialised right in front of you. 
He sped up until it felt like he was running, sliding into the seat next to you right as the Demeter boy made his move. 
“...do you mind if I sit-”
“Sorry man. Seat’s taken.” Luke smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 
“Oh, uh, sorry. Didn’t realise it was like that.” The boy looked between the two of you, the expression on his face torn between bitter and disappointed. He then made a quick exit, leaving you to try and digest the situation. 
“Sorry I’m late.” He smiled, not moving the hand from where it sat on your upper arm. 
“No problem,” You said, a look of bemusement on your face, “Gonna tell me what that was all about?”
“Um-”
“And why are you so out of breath? And-”
He was saved from further questioning by your siblings starting the first song of the night. 
I: He always worried about you
“How much longer are we gonna have to walk?” Luke whined, although it was pretty obvious he wasn’t really annoyed by the bright smile on his face. 
“Not that much farther!” You called back, practically skipping ahead as you neared the edge of the strawberry fields. 
“Good. I feel like my feet are gonna fall off. Y’know how to fix fallen-off-feet, Doc?”
“Are you doubting my skills, Castellan?” You gasped, spinning around to face him, your hands planted firmly on your hips. 
“Hmm, maybe?” He mused, smiling wider as you skipped back to him. 
“Well, don’t. Or I’ll hit you over the head with the picnic basket.” You responded, before linking your arm with his, and leading him to a small spot that was free of the strawberry plants. 
“Happy now?”
He sighed, placing the basket down gently before slumping to the floor, “Overjoyed.” 
He stayed like that for a minute, watching out of the corner of his eye as you spread the blanket across the dirt floor, smoothing it down gently and unpacking the various food items you had prepared. 
Luke cracked a small grin as he watched, marvelling in the way you glowed in the sun. Everyday he thought you couldn't get more beautiful, and everyday he was proven wrong. 
He sat up to tuck in to the picnic, admiring the way you rolled your eyes at him with fondness as you also moved to sit down. 
“Finally decided to- OW!” You exclaimed, cutting off your own statement as you cried out in pain. 
Luke was immediately by your side, asking what was wrong as you tentatively picked your hand up off the floor, shaking it side to side. 
“Holy shit that hurts.” You murmured, looking down at the thorn that had lodged itself into your hand. 
“You're gonna be ok, don’t worry, I’ll get it out for you.” He reassured, although he seemed much more worried than you. 
“Luke,” You laughed, “I’m all good. Camp’s best doctor, remember?” You reminded, before reaching into your palm and pulling the thorn out in one fell swoop. 
As soon as it was out, he was grabbing your palm, cradling it in his hand and inspecting the tiny wound carefully. 
“You're sure you’re ok? We can-” 
“I’m perfectly fine. Why are you so stressed about this?” You asked, confused. He had always been protective, but not usually to such an extreme. 
“Oh, uh, I dunno, just don’t want you to get hurt.” He muttered, still running his fingers along the palm of your hand. 
“So I can’t have a thorn in my hand, but you're allowed to wander into the infirmary with massive gashes up your side?”
He chuckled, his voice low, “Yeah. I guess that’s right.” 
“You’re impossible, Castellan.” You whispered, and when your eyes met once again, you felt a shift in the air. 
Suddenly all the events throughout your friendship made perfect sense, and it was like you had finally found the missing piece to a seemingly impossible puzzle. 
Luke had clearly seen the realisation in your eyes, as he raised his free hand to cup your cheek, your face warming slightly under his touch. 
"Please tell me I'm not reading too much into all of this." You sighed.
"You're not. I don't know how you didn't realise." Luke chuckled, "May I?" He asked, and you nodded, both of you moving forward to meet the other’s lips. 
And you couldn’t help but wonder, how you hadn’t realised sooner. 
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muffinlance · 2 months
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Do you get the impression the live action is treating us like utter morons?? Like I thought that making it aimed at an older audience would open the doors for more subtle story telling, but no, they're just using monologues to tell us eveything! Like in the second episode Katara's like 'oh his power isn't that he's the avatar, it's that he ~connects~ to people'. Girl we're not idiots we can see that!! And the first episode with Aang's goddawful 'I don't want this responsibility' monologue
THIS, YES. The word that keeps coming to mind is definitely "subtlety". The show for literal children? Had it. The remake for adults? Not so much.
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strangerhottotties · 11 days
Note
Just an Eddie thought. Him calling reader Girl Scout or something similar after realizing why they know all these knots that are definitely not used for their intended purpose…
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Not me immediately researching knots and rigging 🤣🤣🤣
The first time it captures his attention is in the upside down, or right before you come out.
"Shit!" Dustin curses for the forth time, trying to tie the sheets together above you. You watch the sheets slip apart as the yank, not holding at all.
"Dustin! Throw them over here!" You finally demand through the chorus of groaning. Dustin glances up at you.
"I can do it!" He yells.
"Dustin! It is cold, and gross, and slimy over here! Throw me the goddamn sheets or so help me, I will climb through it without it and you do not want that!"
Dustin yeilds halfway through your speech, using Lucas to help him haul all the sheets up and throw them through in balls of fabric. Eddie watches with amusement as you don't even stall once, dropping into a low squat to retrieve them. Your immediately not just tying the ends together, but using real knots.
It's a practiced motion. You've done this, he thinks, more than once. There's no hesitation and in under ten seconds you have the first two sheets linked together.
Eddie tilts his head as he watches you tug them tight and slide to the next knot. You barely even looking, still paying avid attention to the conversation around and contributing. You are sparing glances at your hands but in under a minute your launching the rope of sheets into the air and Eddie is wondering to himself, exactly how you knew how to do that.
"Good job, girl scout," he comments and in the dim lighting, he watches as your cheeks darken.
"Uh, yeah. Thanks." You reply, avoiding eye contact.
Eddie knows in that moment. He doesn't have solid evidence, but he knows. You're either a rigger or a rope bunny. At least until everyone's trying to find something in Eddie's music collection that he catches you staring at the cuffs slung on the wall.
It's inopportune to ask further questions for well... nearly the whole day it ate him. And then when he was hot wiring that RV... oh, did he see the way you were looking at him. That far away look in your eyes, he caught in the wide rear view mirror, made him flash pearly whites your way.
When Eddie hops up to allow Steve to drive, climbing into the back he makes a beeline to the seat you're in. As Steve pulls out Eddie's dropping down beside you, and the rough run out of the trailer park has you toppling right into Eddie's lap.
"Sorry! Shit!" You squeak in a way that goes south in the best possible way for Eddie.
"S'okay, Girl Scout," he purrs in your ear. He eats the flustered glare you give him right up as Steve evens the rig out on the road.
"Stop calling me that," you hiss, "I'm not a girl scout."
"Oh," he tells you with a malicious grin, "I know." He leans into your ear. You blink owlishly at him, and loves to watch your face go all horrorish and flushed pink. "But, uh, when this whole thing is over... You'll have to show me the, uh, other knots you know."
"Oh," you repeat and after a beat of silence, "okay," is your response. For a moment, Eddie thinks the universe might be balancing out for all the shit that it's slinging at him.
He spends the rest of the ride to the store with his hand on your thigh.
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gravedigginbbydoll · 4 months
Note
Could you do eddie and fem reader who are getting spicy in his van but she sees he went to their favorite fast food place without her but they don't wanna stop so they have sex while arguing
A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry to get to this so late! I wanted to do this justice! I changed it up a little, but it is the same idea? Kinda? Lol
CW: sex, smut, porn with plot?, Eddie x reader, no genitals or gender for reader mentioned, desperate! Eddie, riding Eddie, penetrative sex, unprotected (wrap it up, kids), sub! Eddie, dom! reader, kinda grumpy/mean! reader, food mentioned, etc.
Lesson Learned?
Sub! Eddie x Dom! Reader
Eddie was spent, his hands gripping your hips, thrusting in and out of you as you bounced on his cock, your eyes rolling back as you tried to grip something near you, the closest thing being the cupholder Eddie had in the back that was conveniently behind him. You grabbed at it, hands brushing something plastic that was wet and cold. You furrowed your brows as Eddie, continued to thrust up but stuttered a bit as you grabbed the object, bringing it up and out of the holder, curious as to where Eddie had stopped before he picked you up. 
“B-baby? What’s the matter?,” Eddie stuttered out, hips still thrusting into you despite your still body. 
You stared at the cup behind his head, recognizing the little blue windmill anywhere. 
Dutch Bros. 
The jackass went to Dutch Bros without you. 
You pulled the cup from behind Eddie’s head as you held it in front of his face, eyebrows furrowed and blood boiling. 
“What the fuck is this?”
Eddie swallows a bit, but looks confused, shrugging. “I got a Rebel because I was tired from work. Didn’t want to be too tired to visit my baby,” He purred, trying to lean in and kiss you as you shoved his face away. You gripped his chin with your hand, anger spurring inside you. 
“And you didn’t get me anything?” 
Eddie smiles weakly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I forgot what you usually get and-” 
You dropped the drink behind him into the holder and began once again riding him with reckless abandon, anger bubbling over at your boyfriend's mistake. He knew how much you loved Dutch Bros. And sure it was a simple mistake, but after the shitty day you’d had? It was the last straw. 
“Then fucking call and ask? Hm?” 
Eddie’s eyes rolled back as he seemed to try and clutch at you, his moans veering more into whines. “Fuck, baby…not so rough…I can’t-” 
You dug your nails into him. Dragging them down his chest and causing a guttural groan to escape his mouth. You leaned in and whispered, voice full of venom. “And now, you don’t get to cum until I let you.” You pulled back, an evil grin gracing your face as Eddie seemed to whimper, eyes wide and body strained. 
“Bu-but, I-”
You put a finger to his lips and continued to ride him, pleasuring yourself on his cock. You squeezed him, causing him to whimper. 
“Too bad.” 
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Eddie’s body was shaking as he continued to thrust into you after your fifth orgasm, his brow getting that cute little furrow you loved so much. His poor cock was red at the tip as you continued to use him, your body practically spent from the pleasure. 
Eddie whimpered and seemed to practically sob, clearly overstimulated from all the edging and foreplay that he’d had for the past hour. 
“Please…please…baby…been so good…I’m sorry,” He whined out, voice almost raw. 
You gripped his hair, pulling a moan from his lips before a sob escaped them. 
“Fine…I guess you’ve paid for your mistake. Go ahead, baby. Been so good, you deserve to fill me up, hm?,” You purred, clawing lightly at his chest. 
Eddie groaned and started to thrust more erratically, his eyes rolling back as his hands roamed, desperate to touch any part of you. You felt your pleasure climb as well, finally snapping as Eddie groaned and spilled into you, his dick continuing to twitch as rope after rope of cum spurted into you. 
Eddie collapsed on top of you a bit, sighing before panting, hair painted to his forehead with sweat, his skin painted red with claw marks and bites. A perfect vision. 
“S-sorry…I’ll call next t-time,” He worked out still collapsed above you, making you smile devilishly to yourself. Guess he learned.
“It’s okay…I’m over it now.”
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ecoamerica · 23 days
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youtube
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wroteclassicaly · 1 year
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so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe
I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)
Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!
Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?
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Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.
You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…
Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.
But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.
You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.
And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.
He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.
“Welcome back, baby.”
His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.
“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.
“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.
He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.
“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.
You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.
“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”
You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.
“You want it like this tonight?”
You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”
“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.
He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.
“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.
You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.
His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.
He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”
That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.
“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.
“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.
He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.
You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”
His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.
“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.
Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”
He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking
You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.
“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”
Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”
“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.
He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.
“Honey? You alright?”
You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.
And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.
“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.
His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.
Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.
“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”
“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”
“But you’re tensing on me —“
“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”
His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.
Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.
“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.
“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.
And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.
// eat me paragraph //
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oifaaa · 9 months
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ooh wait now that you're having villain tim thoughts, what are they??
So here are a few of my villain Tim ideas I've had so far
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zephyrchama · 4 months
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Listening to Magic Moment on a non-stop loop has forced me to write this.
Writing Prompt: MC giving "free massage" tickets to the brothers.
Under the cut. Gender neutral MC, second person, one section for each of the 7 brothers.
Warnings: Nothing hardcore but there is suggestive content (every person has different boundaries so I don't know whether to classify it as some or a lot?). One section almost has a violent outburst (guess who lol it's satan's part), that might be unsettling to some.
The Seven Rulers of the Devildom had expensive taste. Must be a side effect from being some of the most powerful and influential millennia-old entities around.
The student council gave you a regular allowance and there was some side change from various part time jobs, but no way could you afford a custom designer brand gift for each of your housemates. When probed for details about what they’d like, they always say they’d gladly accept anything from you. That’s surely true, but you wanted to gift something they’d actually use and appreciate.
So after weeks of thinking, you got a bag of nice craft paper and some cute stickers that reminded you of the brothers. You holed up for an evening with a Do Not Disturb sign on the bedroom door. Late at night a couple days before Christmas, you snuck into the festively decorated living room and dropped your gifts into the brother’s stockings. Those were also your idea, and technically a gift with some little snacks inside, but now they also contained an extra surprise.
On Christmas morning everyone would wake up and discover your “Free Massage” tickets. One use per ticket. Valid forever.
Lucifer ---
You assumed Lucifer would use his ticket quickly, given how exhausted he often was. Despite being as busy as ever, he showed no intention of using it. Perhaps he thought the gift was beneath him and forgot about it entirely. Perhaps he needed hints to remind him.
For days you would check in on him more and more frequently. Send him a text, inform him that you were around if anything was needed. “Don’t forget to take breaks, ok? I’m here if you need me!”
One evening you boldly slipped into his room on the pretenses of returning a book. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. A sleepy Lucifer was towel-drying his hair after a shower. He sat on the corner of the bed, clean pajama shirt folded neatly beside him.
You took a seat on his other side. The book was large enough to occupy a third space. “Thanks for lending this to me. It was a surprisingly helpful reference.”
“I told you it was, didn’t I?”
He sounded amicable to conversation. Time to go on the offensive. “Do you need any help with that? I have a nice hair dryer from Asmo.”
“No,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I have the same one. I just prefer simple routines like this before bed.”
One rejection wasn't enough to deter you. “How was your day? Did anyone cause you trouble?”
You would have known if one of his brothers had acted up, but maybe something else was on his mind you could take advantage of.
“It was particularly uneventful. Quiet, for once. I’m glad to have this evening off, I have to be up early tomorrow.”
Shot down again. Now Lucifer was reaching for his shirt. Before he put it on, you grabbed his shoulder and weaseled your arm under his armpit and around his back. Not the smoothest move, but he stopped to humor you.
“Is anything on your mind?” he asked.
“It’s just that you’ve been so busy lately, I’m worried about your health. You’ve got to take it easy from time to time.” You rubbed your palm over his back. “I’m sure you get sore when you’re overworked.”
“Indeed. However, it’s something I’m used to.”
He re-folded the shirt and got up to put it away. “Would you like to stay the night? You must miss me, seeing as I’m so busy.”
“Absolutely!”
In the spare moments it took for Lucifer to hang up his shirt, place the returned book on its shelf, and walk back to the bed, you already made yourself at home in the sheets. He chuckled, “someone’s eager.”
The lights turned off and he slid into bed by your side. After only a couple of minutes, Lucifer shifted to face the wall. He already appeared asleep. He must really have been tired after all. Under the warm blanket, you reached to stroke his back again.
A novel idea formed in your mind. If all your attempts failed while he was awake, maybe subliminal messaging while asleep would be effective. You snuggled up close and whispered into his ear, “massage ticket… Use… the massage ticket…”
You weren’t expecting a reply, but Lucifer’s deep voice whispered back at you, “why would I waste such a valuable gift?"
"You're awake?" you gasped. Lucifer's prank had been unexpected. You began softly punching his back. "I thought you fell asleep."
"I'm awake, and I wasn't planning on using that ticket. Especially when you go through the trouble to do interesting things like this.”
Mammon ---
Mammon’s ticket had been confiscated. He no longer had it because he got up early, the most excited out of everyone to receive his shiny new presents, and once he saw what was in his stocking he knew that each of his brothers had one too.
Beelzebub walked in on him rooting around in everyone’s stockings to snag their massage tickets for himself and tackled him, as he thought Mammon was stealing Christmas chocolates. The commotion attracted everyone else and Mammon’s ticket was vetoed in a unanimous vote. But he still deserved a gift from you.
Instead of letting him choose a day and time like the others, you visited Mammon’s room when you felt like it. He was still pouting.
“You know I’ve been on my best behavior all year. S’not fair!” He punched the couch in frustration. He really had been getting into less trouble lately. It felt bad seeing him so down.
“Do you want one now? A massage, I mean. Don’t tell your brothers. It’s a limited time offer since you don’t have a ticket.”
“Ya mean it?”
You nodded, and his misery turned into excitement. He literally jumped up. “Well, do I get a little somethin’ extra too? Since I don’t have my ticket, ya know. Somethin’ to make up for that. I’ve got this nice little outfit you could wear that’s-”
You quickly cut him off before the Avatar of Greed gave too many demands. “Limited time offer with terms and conditions. Take the massage right now as-is or leave it. Up to you.”
“Aaarghh alright, alright. I’ll take it. Feel honored! I’ll humor your little massage for a while!”
Mammon dramatically pulled his shirt off but kept wearing the silliest, smuggest smile. He really was cute when trying and utterly failing to act tough. He sprawled himself out on the couch, “let’s see what you’ve got!”
Since the greedy demon hogged all of the couch space, there was nowhere to sit next to him within arm’s reach. With a “don’t mind if I do,” you decided to crawl over Mammon’s legs and sit on his butt.
In a moment of shock he wiggled out from under you. You would have toppled over the side of the sofa had Mammon’s famously fast reflexes not scooped you up, now placing you atop his chest. “Whaddya think you’re doin’, huh? Who said you could do that?”
“You did! How else was I supposed to… Look, do you want this or not?”
His scowl, no matter how big, couldn’t hide the blush on his face. “Yeah, ok, but just… warn me this time… Ok?”
Leviathan ---
It had been nearly a week since you last heard from Leviathan. After Christmas, you thought you might not see him at all until the new year. There were so many holiday game events happening, after all.
“Think I’m stuck,” read the message that popped up on your DDD late one night.
“Can’t move. Requesting reinforcements. And food.”
Concerned, you popped into the kitchen for whatever palatable finger foods you could assemble on a plate and began making your way to the third born’s room. You knocked, but there was no answer. It had been a while since he gave you a password, but it didn’t seem to matter now. You just walked in.
Leviathan was slumped over in his gaming chair, surrounded by roughly ten different screens. Each had a different game and one was streaming some idol talk show. His trash can, while still relatively contained, was almost overflowing with energy drink cans and snack packages. Levi didn’t seem to notice you walk in. He had been gaming for days. You set the plate at the edge of his PC desk.
“Dang. You live like this?”
Bleary-eyed and vitamin D deficient, he still shrieked. “Whuh? Don’t scare me like that!!”
“I came to answer your distress call. You’re stuck?”
“Oh, right. I did send that, didn’t I.” He turned back to the monitors briefly to pause a few things and save a few others. It was impressive how much he could multitask.
“My back’s turned into a pretzel. I thought I’d finally take a break, but when I went to stand up I couldn’t. I think I’m stuck to the chair, lol. If I, uh, use the massage ticket, could you help me?”
“’course I will. Here, drink something.” You slid him a juice. The gamer chair was pretty tall, blocking all access to Leviathan’s back, so you started tapping away at his shoulders. He scrambled to take his headphones off, which helped.
“Sorry to call you in for such a stupid reason. I know this is a disgusting sight..”
You shook your head, though he couldn’t see it. “How’s your game progress?””Oh, about 80% done everything? 85? But it’s mostly the daily quests now, I’ve maxed out on all the top prizes from the main event stories. Look, I even got this Christmas bow set. It has trash stats but looks like a tree and fires little candy canes.”
A big burly warrior with a Christmas hat on one of the screens demonstrated the weapon.
“Uwaah, you know that really helped. I think I can try to stand now.” Leviathan made a made show of setting his legs on the ground and leaning forward, only to magnificently slide back into the chair. “Ow. Ok. That, uh, wasn’t what I planned.” He turned away. “Don’t look at me.”
“No! Don’t give up!” You spun the seat around and he squeaked In astonishment. “We’re gonna make this happen. Levi! Do you trust me?” It was all or nothing. You dramatically reached out your hands. You knew you could do it. You were going to pull this demon out of the gamer chair.
Steeling his resolve, Leviathan nodded and grabbed your hands. You asked, “ready?”
He confirmed, “Ok… Ok lets go! One!”
“Two!”
As you shouted “three!” in unison, you tugged back with all your strength. Maybe you could have pulled a little less, as the two of you went flying backwards. There would have been some real damage if Levi didn’t cushion your head from the tiled floor with his arm.
“Woaaah it woooorked! We did--”
Mid-celebration, he seemed to notice he was in a compromising position on top of you. After barrel rolling off to the side, his voice got noticeably quieter. “We did it… yeah, uh… Sorry about--”
Leaving no room for negativity, you reached around his back and hugged him before he could finish the sentence. “I really missed you, y’know? Come out of your room more often, Levi.”
His face wasn’t visible, but you’re sure it was bright red as he stammered a soft “alright.”
Satan ---
Satan texted, asking if he could redeem his massage ticket after a long and tiring day. Said it was urgent. His presence was always in demand at social events, galleries, and book shop unveilings. After five busy events in one day he just wanted to return
home to relax with a book, but some idiots were running around the library playing war with rubber band shooters. His fuse that day was incredibly short. So he retreated to the comfort of his room, but each thudding footstep down the hall sounded irksome and brought Satan one step closer to snapping.
When you knocked at his door, wrath was seeping out the cracks into the hallway. He practically screamed at you to get inside. Satan was shaking on the edge of his bed, crushing an unrecognizable object in his hand. The room was dreadfully cold. You rushed to his side, practically jumping into the empty space next to him.
He barely acknowledged you. Rubbing slow, small circles on his back had a quick effect though. Upon hitting between his shoulder blades, his tense muscles loosened and he leaned against your side. You could hear him grinding his teeth. After a long minute passed he exhaled in relief.
You scooted back a bit and guided his head to your lap. Stroking continuous circles, one hand was in his rich blonde hair, the other against his shirt fabric. “Thank you for coming,” he muttered, rubbing a cheek against your thigh.“You really saved me there.”
“Any time. Do you want to talk about your day?” Your voice was low and soft.
“No. Just keep going.”
Gently pulling at his shirt collar, you loosened it to caress the back of his neck. He was still in his outdoor attire. He’d tell you about it in time, once fully calmed down. He tried to apologize for the outburst, though it wasn’t your fault and he didn’t quite know what to say. You brushed his hair back, combing it away from his forehead to let him know things were okay. It became your personal mission lessen the stiffness in his back. You’d work your way down his spine until he relaxed.
“Maybe I could read you a book, too?” You suggested, squeezing his shoulder. Satan shifted his hand to rub your knee in appreciation.
Asmodeus ---
Asmodeus set aside a whole spa evening to use your massage ticket. It was special. He filled his bath with high-end fragrances so his skin would be extra silky. He extended an offer for you to join him in the water, heated with magic to be the perfect temperature, but you said you’d wait in his room. Those baths can take hours. You’d be too pruny to feel, let alone massage anything. He had plenty of interesting magazines to flip through in the meantime, and you got to enjoy the plush sheets on his bed.
He waltzed out of the bathroom in a magnificently fluffy robe, another Christmas gift he’d received from somebody. “Thanks for waiting! Were you lonely? I’m allll ready!”
A brand new skincare set waited on the vanity, stocked with creams and masks for you to try together. Asmo plopped into a seat while you pulled up a spare chair behind him. “What are we starting with first?”
He rifled through the packages. “This!” A matte purple, gooey liquid. “I tried samples of this before, it smells divine. Come here!”
You let him plop a dab of the gloop on your nose and rub it into your cheeks. “There! Give it a few minutes and then wash it off. In the meantime, shall we begin? Hm?”
He turned to face the mirror and wiggled impatiently for his massage, cheekily sliding the robe off his shoulder. “I know you probably can’t wait much longer.” You both laughed. With the robe around his waist, you got to work redeeming the ticket. Pounding against his back didn’t seem to phase him at all, and Asmo hardly moved from the strength of your fists as he rubbed another cream under his eyes. He launched into a story about some fan who sent him a thirty page letter the other day.
“They described my beautiful eyes really well. It was even scented, and each page was another scent. Isn’t that wild? Do you think they did that themselves, or are the pages sold like that?” His eyes peered at you in the vanity mirror. “Hey, can you rub a little harder?”
“Oh, sure!” Knowing it would be hard for you to physically hurt him, you put a bit more force into each tap. “What scent was your favorite? Like, could you distinguish them?”
“Actually, yeah! There were lots of fruits like cherries, strawberries, one was pine scented, and a rose one of course.” Asmo glanced away from his own reflection once again and he shifted his weight back towards you. “Hey, hon? Harder?”
You obliged, squeezing his back muscles with as much strength as you could muster. “Is that… Was it the longest fan letter you’ve gotten?”Asmo let out a barely distinguishable moan. You almost thought you imagined it.
”Hm… Not by far…” He started, but trailed off. With a big breath, he moaned louder and leaned back further. “Oh, come on, harder… ” He wrapped his arms around his chest and wiggled.
“Asmo!? What the-- are you…? Gross!” You lifted your hands in shock and he burst out laughing. Without anything supporting him up, he fell into your lap in a fit of giggles. “Did you think I was serious? Ahaha! You’re so cute when you’re flustered!”
Beelzebub ---
“I ate something that didn’t agree with my stomach, can I redeem that gift for a massage? It might make me feel better.” That’s what Beelzebub asked one afternoon, stopping by your room after noticing the door open. It’s rare for something to upset Beel’s stomach. It must have been really rancid.
“Yeah, of course! You wanna do it here or your room?”
“We’re already here. If you don’t mind.” Beel walked in and made himself at home, smoothing out the covers on your bed.
You got up to shut the door, but wondered if a run to the kitchen would be useful.
“Will ice help? Or any kind of medicine?” Maybe even normal food would cancel out the bad stuff and make Beel feel better, but he declined. Beel already propped his head up on your pillow and laid down.
“You’re gonna lay face up? How am I supposed to rub your back?””My stomach hurts. I thought you could rub that, and I would feel better.””Oh.” Nobody else had been able to look at you directly while giving massages. This was more embarrassing.
Beelzebub realized he hadn’t taken his shirt off, but didn’t want to stand and repeat the process again, so he just pulled it up to his chest. His breathing did seem more labored than usual. Out of pity, you didn’t roll him over. “I haven’t done this way before, so tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”
The demon was so much bigger than you, it was hard to find a good starting spot. “You can sit here,” he said, patting his waist. “Only if you want to. I don’t mind.” So you scooted on up, placing your legs to the left and right of him. Beel is so muscled it was like sitting on a warm rock.
“Where does it feel uncomfortable? Here?” You prodded a bit around his stomach, careful not to make him sick.
“Pff, haha, yeah. That’s it.”
“That tickles?”
“Yeah.”
While Beel softly giggled, you worked your hands along the soft spots between his ab muscles. “What did you even eat?”
“A bath bomb.”You couldn’t help laugh along with him. Beel continued, “I didn’t know that’s what it was until Solomon told me though. I thought I maybe I accidentally had his cooking. It looked delicious. But I think it started expanding, and caused an ache.”
“I can’t blame you there. I almost ate soap once.”
“Really? You?” You were always the more level one when it came to food. “Did it look good?”
You nodded. “Boy, did it. And it smelled amazing, I could smell it from across the room. You probably smelled the bath bomb the moment you walked in that building, right?”
He vigorously nodded. “So you do get it!”
Beel reached up and pulled you into a big hug, catching you off guard so you practically fell on top of him. “Thanks for making me feel better.”
Escaping from one of Beel’s hugs was no easy feat, so you happily went along with it. “Any time. If you ever see one of those fake cupcakes again, maybe we can put it in the bath water and see what it does together.”
Belphegor ---
“I’ve got a fun idea. Meet me in the observatory?
When you showed up to Belphegor’s summons he was counting stars. The observatory was dark but the stars were bright enough to illuminate his silhouette standing in front of the window. He greeted you with a warm smile.
“I brought my ticket. I have a special request though.” Waving the massage ticket in
his hand, he came to meet you in the middle of the room. As your eyes adjusted you could make out that an old telescope was set up next to the fountain.
“ A special request? I guess I could hear you out since I came all this way.”
The two of you took a seat on the floor. For several moments, the only sounds were your own breathing and the soothing flow of water. When he didn’t start explaining, you were afraid Belphie might fall asleep in the peaceful silence. “Are you really gonna wait for me to ask what it is?”
“Yeah. If you wanna know, you should hurry up.” You could hear the smile in his voice.
“What did you want to do?”
He reached to adjust the telescope in front of you at your eye level while explaining. “I thought we could stargaze together, but instead of just talking about what we see, we could draw them on each other’s backs. If you draw the constellations I can tell you what they are. When it’s my turn, I can show you what they look like and tell you stuff about it. What do you think?”
If your eyes could have stars in them, at this moment they would. “That sounds like a really fun idea.”
“Hehe, right? I told you. So take a look, what do you see?”
Belphegor turned his back towards you while you excitedly peered through the telecope. It was easy to focus and you quickly found a target to study.
“Two there, and then… Ok, I think I’ve got it. What’s this?”
You started to replicate what you saw with little knocks for stars, and connected them by slowly drawing arcs between the points. Belphegor’s jacket would slide over his shirt though, messing up the curves.
“Hm…” He sighed. “I thought I would be pretty good at this, but it’s hard to tell what you’re drawing.”
“This might be easier without the jacket,” you admitted.
“Really? I’m too tired to take it off though. Take it off for me?”
His brothers spoiled him too much, just like you did, so Belphegor didn’t move a muscle when you tried to peel off the warm jacket. You had to get in his personal space and lift his arms up for him. You told yourself the struggle would be worth it when you finally wrestled it off of him and could wear it yourself. He was being too uncooperative though, and eventually suggested “how about we switch? I don’t want to take this off, I’m comfortable now.”
Dejected without your warm prize, you agreed. The telescope stand rattled against the ground as he readjusted it and you turned away from him. “Do you still really want to use your massage ticket if I’m not the one doing it?” you inquired.
He hummed and hawed, mulling it over while gazing up at the sky. “Yeah, I do, if it lets me do fun stuff like this with you. I got one, let me know if you have this star sign in the human world.”
The first couple pokes sent tingles through your skin. The stars were really far away from each other, drawn on opposite sides of your lower back, but you weren’t prepared for such a delicate touch and had been distracted. “I don’t… think so? Hold on, draw it again.”
“Don’t you know? It goes like this.” He poked again, a little lower. You let out an
“eep!” and subconsciously scooted forward.
“Wait, I’m not done.” He was clearly holding back laughter. “I haven’t shown you this other one yet.”
The next constellation felt less like the trace of a star, and a lot more like Belphegor just wanted to tickle your sides. “Do you know what this is called?”
“Khh hahaha, no, I don’t.” The laugh-riddled admission further encouraged him. He wiggled lines all over your sides and crept his way to your stomach.
“I guess we have a lot of constellations to talk about then. Good thing the sky is so clear tonight.”
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msgexymunson · 1 year
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walking around the house in nothing but one of eddie's old t-shirts... knowing that the second he sees you, you're getting bent over the nearest surface.
Well! How could I say no to this?? 
Warnings: p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) implied established relationship, dom Eddie x sub fem reader 
A/N: this was a good ask, exactly what I like, short and dirty (just like me) Comments and reblogs are what keep the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart oiled ❤️
Masterlist
Humming along to the radio in the warm light of the trailer, you try to be helpful, mixing ingredients in a plastic bowl you'd found in a cupboard. Eddie had left to do a deal and his uncle was away all weekend, so you'd crawled out of bed and decided to whip up some pancakes. He'd mentioned them the night before and left you with a craving so you thought you'd surprise him. 
You pad around the kitchen barefoot, only wearing one of Eddie's old Hellfire T shirts, the one he hated since it was too big. It was perfect for you as a makeshift dress, just covering the curve of your butt. 
Reaching on tippy toes you examine the top cupboard trying to excavate a frying pan from its depths. Over the sound of the tinny radio and your own clattering you don't notice the opening of the trailer door, or the metallic sound of Eddie's keys falling to the ground in shock. 
You cannot help but notice a warm torso against your back and an unmistakable bulge pressing directly against your ass. Jumping with shock, a squeal escapes your lips.
"Jesus Eddie you scared me!" 
No words. Just a firm hand gripping you by the hip, the other snaking fingers across your jaw, and a strong body pushing you hard against the counter. Panic grips you for a moment. What if it isn't Eddie? 
That is until hot breath winds its way into your ear. 
"Baby, look at you. What are you doing?" 
You attempt to answer, whilst he grinds his hardness against the fat of your ass cheeks. 
"I-I was, I was making pancakes. I was gonna surprise you?" Your words are unsure; he almost sounds mad, belying the urgent gestures of his hips.
"I mean, what are you doing in my shirt? Jesus baby, you look smokin' hot." 
You attempt to move but Eddie's holding you still, hand now gripping the nape of your neck whilst the other smooths across your curves and under the hem of his old shirt. As his fingertips ghost across your heat you can't help but back into his feathering touch. 
"Fuck, you're not even wearing panties? Well, fuck." 
His hand moves away, making you frown, until you hear the unmissable clink of his handcuff belt. Eddie unzips his jeans and pushes them down just far enough to release his cock from its denim confines. 
You feel the weeping tip rut against your slickened folds making you jolt. 
"Eddie, please." It comes out needy, begging; exactly how he likes it. 
"Yeah? You want it? Is that why you're wearing my shirt and nothing else?" You hear the grin in his voice and the wet noise of him spitting into his hand to wrap it around his dick. 
When he starts pushing into you a gasp forces its way out of your lungs; air expelling in relief at him entering you. 
Eddie gives you no time to adjust. He simply ruts into you animalistically, one hand gripping your hip leaving indents in your skin, the other leaning on the countertop as leverage, allowing him to drive into you as hard as possible. 
"You drive me crazy, just walking around in my shirt, and, fuck, nothing else. You fuckin' menace." 
"Eddie!" You try to retort but there's no air to breathe, unable to snap back when he's fucking you this brutally. 
You feel a deep bubbling in your stomach, a powerful release clamping down on your insides, about to spill. Eddie's thrusts become sloppy and somehow even deeper as you scream your release out into the world, pussy gripping him as if it were afraid to let him go. Eddie cums inside you with a drawn out groan, body flopping over yours on the countertop. 
Pressing soft kisses to your temple, he pulls from your heat and stands. You're not so lucky, legs wobbling, nearly giving out from under you like a new-born fowl. 
"Woah there, sweetheart" Eddie says as he grasps you firmly by your waist. "You OK?" 
Steadying yourself, you turn to face him. 
"Hi." 
"Hi." He chuckles, peeling a strand of hair out of your face. "You wanna go and clean up and I'll make the pancakes?" 
"Sure" You grin, planting a kiss to his chapped lips.
"You wanna hand me that then sweetheart?" 
Confusion floods your face, until your eyes follow his, and realise your gripping onto the spatula you had in your hands when he came in. You hand it over, fingers releasing from their death grip. 
"That good eh?" Eddie smirks, full of himself. 
"Shut up Munson" You hit his arm, but there's no force in it, as you make your way to the bathroom. It was, after all, a hell of a way to wake up. 
I only had a tag list for Rumour, so if anyone wants to be on my general Eddie taglist please comment/reblog to say so!
@munson-blurbs @eddiesprincess86
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