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wonderlandwalker · 27 days ago

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Two can play (but three's more fun) | Steve Harrington x reader x Eddie Munson

stranger things masterlist / inbox

summary: when Steve catches Eddie staring a little too long at his girlfriend, he doesn’t throw a punch—he extends an invitation. And as Eddie quickly learns, Steve doesn’t just share; he teaches, with slow, filthy demonstrations.

word count: 5.2k

tags / content warnings: smut, just pure filth really, posessive steve, desperate eddie, a lot of swearing, I couldn't help it, maybe some repetitive words but smut vocabulary just has it's limits

a/n: I got insanely stoned and wrote this so if it came out too horny i'm sorry, also im ovulating oops. I've prolly been very inconsistent with grammar tenses but I can't be bothered to check it. I usually correct my grammar after i've already posted so the masterlist link has significantly less errors than earlier versions

The living room was bathed in the flickering glow of the TV, some forgotten horror movie playing on low volume—The Thing, maybe, or was it Halloween?—its eerie soundtrack warping under the weight of the thick, sweet-smelling haze curling through the air.

Eddie had outdone himself with this new strain, something sticky and potent that left his limbs heavy and his usual sharp edges dulled into something languid and warm, his thoughts perhaps a bit too syrupy.

“—I know I talk a big game, man, but fuck. I have no clue what I’m doing when it actually comes down to it.”

His voice was a low mumble, words slipping out like he hadn’t meant to say them at all. He tipped his head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling as if it might hold answers.

Steve blinks at him, slow and rhythmically, before snorting. “What, like… at all?”

“Yeah, man. Like—” Eddie waves a hand vaguely, the silver of his rings glinting as he moves. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what sounds are real and which ones are fake? It’s fucking Russian roulette.”

The next reaction from Steve is immediate, no hesitation. Just a lazy, knowing smirk as he stretches his arms behind his head. “Huh. Well, once you know the difference, it becomes pretty obvious.” He pauses, just long enough to take a quick glance over Eddie’s face. “If you really need some pointers, I can ask my girlfriend if she wants to help you out.”

Eddie nearly comes crashing to the fucking floor.

Because fuck. He’s had a crush on you for, like, forever. Not that he’s ever admitted it out loud — not when Steve Harrington has a reputation for rearranging the faces of guys who so much as look at you wrong. Eddie has seen it happen: some poor asshole at a party, fingers skimming your ass as you passed, and bam — Steve’s fist in his jaw before anyone could blink. There’s even a rumour some other idiot once stared just a little too long at the way your lips wrapped around the neck of your beer bottle and then slurred, “Wanna spin the bottle?” Word is, Steve dropped him in one hit. No warning. No theatrics. Just pure, primal instinct.

So yeah, Eddie’s kept his mouth shut.

But now? Now Steve is watching him with this lazy, half-lidded expression, like he hadn’t just detonated a goddamn bomb in Eddie’s head.

“You’re fucking with me.” Eddie pleads, his voice rough.

Steve just grins — slow, deliberate — his eyes dark with something Eddie can't name. “Nah, man. She’s actually really into that kinda stuff.” His voice drops, gravel scraping over each word, and Eddie’s stomach flips “And I’d do anything for her.”

The air feels thick as Eddie’s pulse roars in his ears, his throat suddenly bone-dry. Was this a test? A trap? Christ. Harrington was going to be the death of him, and worse—Eddie knew he’d fucking thank him for it.

His fingers twitch at his sides. “...Yeah?”

Steve’s smile only widens, but his eyes soften. “Yeah.”

When Eddie shows up at your place the next night, he’s strung tight enough to power Hawkins twice over, his pulse hammering in his throat. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours convincing himself he’d imagined the whole conversation, that there was no way Steve Harrington just offered—

And then you open the door.

Dressed in nothing but one of Steve’s old band tees, the fabric riding high on your thighs, you greet him with a smile that damn near stops his heart. “Hey, Eddie.”

His mouth goes dry. And before he can choke out a response, Steve is behind you, hands sliding possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. And then — Jesus Christ.

The kiss Steve gives you isn’t just heated — it’s filthy. All tongue and teeth, your fingers twisting in his hair as he backs you against the doorframe, his hands already under your shirt like it’s a regular Tuesday afternoon.

Eddie’s knees nearly give out.

“Watch,” Steve murmurs against your lips when he finally breaks away, his gaze flicking to Eddie over your shoulder. His voice dark and commanding. “And pay attention.”

Then, right there in the doorway, Steve pulls the shirt over your head — meticulously slow, like he wants Eddie to memorise every second. And, well — Eddie does.

He memorises the way your breath hitches when Steve’s fingers brush over your ribs, the way you arch into his touch, the soft, real sounds spilling from your lips as Steve’s mouth finds the top of your breasts—

Eddie’s throat protests as he swallows, fingers twitching at his sides like he can’t decide whether to bolt or drop to his knees.

Steve notices —of course he does— and his lips curl into something dangerously close to a challenge. “You just going to stand there, Munson?” His hands slide down your hips, squeezing just hard enough to make you softly gasp. “Thought you wanted to learn.” Eddie manages to get control over his brain just long enough to answer “I— Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. I do.”

Steve hums, pleased, and spins you around to face Eddie fully, his palm splayed possessively over your stomach. “Then get over here.”

It’s not a request.

Eddie moves like a man in a trance, close enough now to feel the heat of your skin, to catch the intoxicating scent of your perfume. His gaze darts between your face and Steve’s fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your collarbone.

“First lesson,” Steve murmurs, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. “Don’t just touch. Listen.” His free hand reaches out, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and dragging it toward you. “Feel how she reacts.”

Eddie’s fingertips brush your waist—hesitant at first, then firmer when you shiver under his touch. His breath hitches as you lean into him, lashes fluttering when his thumb grazes the delicate curve of your ribs.

“Good.” Steve’s voice is low, eyes locked on Eddie’s every twitch. “Now kiss her.”

Eddie’s head jerks up. “What?”

Steve’s grin is all teeth. “Unless you don’t—”

“No, I—fuck.” He surges forward, crashing his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy and desperate, and he barely gets a taste before Steve yanks you back by the waist, eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

“Jesus Christ. Not like that.”

Eddie stumbles after you as Steve kicks the door shut behind them. “It’s like you were raised by wolves.”

Eddie opens his mouth to protest—then snaps it shut. Because Steve’s right. He’s a wreck.

“What are you waiting for, a written invitation?” Steve’s voice is rough with impatience. “Kiss her again.”

Eddie hesitates—just for a second—before lust wins the war. This time, when his lips find yours, it’s still hungry, but it’s also aware, his movements more controlled. For a heartbeat, he’s terrified Steve will deem him unworthy of you altogether and kick him back to the curb—until you moan into it, until your fists twist in his shirt and drag him closer.

Steve groans in approval against your shoulder. “That’s it,” he rasps, pressing you forward just enough that Eddie can feel your heartbeat against his chest. “Now slow down. Make her want it.”

Eddie whimpers, but obeys, pulling back just enough to tease your lower lip between his teeth before licking into your mouth like you’re water and he’s been dying of thirst.

The sound you make — the soft, wanting whine—it's the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Steve pulls you back again, but this time, there’s satisfaction in his grin. “See?” His thumb swipes over your kiss-swollen lips, smug. “She likes it when you take your time.”

Steve doesn’t let go of you—not really. Even as he nudges you toward the couch, his palm stays glued to the small of your back, steering you like he owns every inch of space you move through. Eddie doesn’t need to be told to follow; his pulse hammers in his throat, fingers flexing like he’s already imagining the weight of you beneath them.

“Sit.” Steve’s order cracks through the air, and Eddie drops onto an armchair like his strings have been cut.

You don’t get the chance to join him. Steve catches your wrist, yanking you back against his chest instead. His mouth brushes your ear, voice a low, possessive hum: “Nah, sweetheart. You’re staying right here.” His fingers trail down your arm before guiding your hand to Eddie’s jaw. “Let him earn it.”

Eddie’s breath stutters. Christ. Up close, you’re devastating. The way your eyes shimmer with pure lust, the way your lips part—just slightly—when Steve’s fingers skim over the lace of your bra. The syrupy moan you let out when he pinches your nipple over it, just enough to make your back arch—

“See that?” Steve’s voice is rough against your ear. “She gets loud when she’s turned on. You just have to know how to listen.” Eddie nods, swallowing hard. His hands hover over your hips like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve under his touch. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, Munson. You’re not going to break her.” He grabs Eddie’s wrist, pressing his palm flat against your stomach. “Feel how warm she is? How fucking desperate?”

Eddie’s fingers twitch. He can feel it—the rapid rise and fall of your breath, the way your skin burns under his touch.

“Now”, Steve murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder, “show me what you’ve learned.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice.

This time, when he kisses you, it’s relaxed—calculated. He licks into your mouth like he’s savouring it, one hand sliding up your ribs while the other tangles in your hair. And when you moan, when your hips jerk forward like you just can’t help it, Eddie groans against your lips like he’s just discovered fucking religion.

Steve watches, eyes dark with approval. “Better,” he rasps. Then, with a smirk: “Now get on your knees.”

Eddie freezes, and Steve arches a brow,“got a problem?”

“No—fuck, no.” Eddie’s already sliding to the floor, knees hitting the carpet with a thud. His hands find your thighs, gripping just tight enough to feel the muscle tense under his fingers.

Steve’s smirk widens. “Good.”

The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp—and God, Eddie’s never been so hard in his life.

Steve’s voice is a murmur as he trails a path down your throat, bruises already blooming under his mouth. “Now, make her beg.”

Eddie’s breathing is ragged as he looks up at you—fuck, the way your pupils are blown wide, the way your chest rises with every shaky inhale. Steve’s fingers are still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing a stray strand behind your ear with a tenderness that feels domestic. Your eyes meet Eddie’s just before they flutter shut, and it’s all the permission he needs. His mouth finds the inside of your knee first, lips dragging slow and hot up your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. Steve hums, tracing your ribs and sliding your bra strap down your shoulder. His palm cups your breast as it spills free, kneading with a lazy possessiveness that has your hips jerking forward — but Eddie holds you steady, determined.

His tongue traces past the waistband of your panties like he’s trying to memorise the shape of you, and when his eyes flick up to Steve, all he finds is lust, raw and unfiltered. So Eddie hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls, dragging it down your legs as he kisses a trail after it, reverent even in his hunger. His fingers work you with surprising precision, his gaze desperate for approval — and when he curls them just right, you gasp, arching into his touch with a moan loud enough to make Steve’s smirk falter. He wasn’t expecting that.

The slip in Steve’s control sends a thrill through Eddie, and he murmurs against your thigh, voice rough: “You sound so fucking sweet — bet you taste even better.” Steve’s grip tightens on your hip, hard enough to bruise, but you don’t seem to mind.

He’d meant to teach. Now, he’s learning.

And the way you’re unravelling under Eddie’s touch stirs something awake inside of him. Eddie’s got a musician’s dexterity, his fingers able to coax sinful melodies from you with every twist. When you whimper Eddie’s name, Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t stop him. Just watches with a gaze darker than the midnight sky itself as Eddie’s breath ghosts over you, your thighs trembling. “Please—”

The word barely leaves your lips before Eddie adds another finger, crooking them until your thighs squeeze around his wrist. He groans against your skin, resting his forehead against your leg as the vibration tears another broken sound from your throat. He fucks you with his fingers — slow and deep, then fast and relentless, like he can’t decide whether to savour you or ruin you.

Eddie, drunk on your praise, dares to glance up at Steve with a smirk. Steve’s nostrils flare, but instead of shutting him down, he drags a thumb over your cheek and growls, “You gonna cum for him?” You can’t even answer. Your back arches, toes curling, and Eddie drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. The moment you shatter, he loses it. He’s not sure what destroys him more — the way you choke out his name, begging him not to stop, or the filthy, approving rumble of Steve’s voice as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Eddie finds himself at an impasse, torn between begging for more and staying silent as the two of you decide his fate. His fingers twitch where they grip your thighs, his breath ragged, his entire body coiled tight with anticipation—and fear. Steve detaches himself from nipping at your collarbone when Eddie wavers, his movements faltering. A reprimand flashes in Steve’s darkened gaze, sharp enough to make Eddie shudder again. “Didn’t you hear her, Munson?” Steve’s voice is a low, warning growl. “She told you not to stop.”

But Eddie freezes. The reality of where he is—what he’s doing—hits him like a freight train. He has no idea how to continue.

But Steve doesn’t tolerate hesitation. His hand fists in Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward with a rough, “Stop thinking.”

Eddie obeys like a man possessed, and the moment his tongue drags over you, his whole body jerks—holy shit. You taste even better than he could’ve dared to dream. Sweet, addictive, and the way you gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit? He’s ruined. Forever.

Drunk on you—on the way your fingers tighten in his hair, the way you’re so wet it’s coating your thighs—he laps at you like his life depends on it. Steve watches with drowsy satisfaction, his palm sliding possessively up your stomach to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple just to hear you whimper for him again.

“Listen to how she sounds when you do it right,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with contentment. “Isn’t it the most beautiful sound in the world?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. Instead, he tilts your jaw toward him, locking you in a searing kiss. You moan into Steve’s mouth as Eddie continues, his tongue relentless, his own desperate noises vibrating against you. Steve chuckles darkly when Eddie whimpers, his cock straining against his jeans just from tasting you. He hasn’t even touched himself, but he’s so close he’s shaking.

“Are you going to come just from this, Munson?” Steve drags him off you by his hair, grinning at the dazed, wrecked look on Eddie’s face. “Fuck, look at him, darling. He’s a mess.” Eddie’s lips are slick, his chest heaving, his pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. Steve doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He pushes Eddie back into the armchair, his grip firm, dominant. Then he guides you onto the couch with a smirk.

“You did good,” he tells Eddie, voice dripping with condescension. “Now let me show you great.”

Steve doesn’t waste time. In one smooth motion, he hooks his hands under your knees, spreading you wide —putting you on display— before dragging you to the edge of the couch. His gaze locks onto Eddie’s, making sure he’s watching as he leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, a shudder running through you at the sensation. “See how she shivers?” Steve murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, laced with something Eddie can only describe as devotion. “It’s because she knows what’s coming—” Then he devours you.

Unlike Eddie’s frantic, eager strokes, Steve’s tongue moves with precision — deliberate, decisive licks that have you arching off the couch within seconds. He teases you, circling your clit until you’re gasping, then he pulls back with a cruel smirk.

“Steve—” you whine, fingers scrambling at his hair. “Patience, sweetheart,” he muses — before sucking your clit between his lips, hard. Your cry echoes through the room, and Eddie’s hands clench into fists, his hips jerking helplessly as you overwhelm his senses without even touching him. Steve doesn’t let up; he works you with his mouth until your thighs tremble, until your moans grow longer and heavy, until you’re right there—, and he pulls away.

“No, no, baby, please—” you beg, but Steve just clicks his tongue, amused, sliding two fingers into you without warning. “Look at her, Munson,” he orders, curling his fingers just right, making you sob beneath him. “This is how you give her what she deserves.” His thrusts are ruthless, his palm grinding against your clit with every movement. You’re a writhing, whimpering mess, your nails digging into Steve’s shoulders as he fucks you on his fingers, his eyes locked onto Eddie’s the entire time.

“She’s close,” Steve taunts — he doesn’t even need to look at you to know, too busy watching the way Eddie’s jaw clenches. “You want to see what happens when she comes on my hand?” Eddie can’t even speak. He just nods, frantic. Steve smiles wickedly and makes do with the response. “Then watch closely.”

He crooks his fingers again, pressing deeper, and you don’t just shatter — you explode. Your back bows like you’re possessed, broken screams tearing from your throat as you squirt, and Eddie swears he’s seeing stars. Your hand finds Steve’s bicep, clinging desperately, like you’re afraid he’ll stop. Eddie can’t look away; he doesn’t dare blink — if he misses a single second of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

Steve works you through it, drawing out every last spasm until tears streak your face, until you’re oversensitive, trying to squirm away. Only then does he finally relent, licking his fingers with a satisfied hum before brushing featherlight kisses up to your neck. The moment you feel his proximity, you meet him in a kiss — not heated like before, but purposeful, delicate, like Steve is guiding you back to reality with it. He doesn’t rush you; he just lets your fingers weave through his hair until your breathing steadies. Then, he speaks again. “That”, he says, “is how it’s done.” He meets Eddie’s stunned gaze. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about getting your dick wet until she’s clenching around nothing.”

Eddie’s so hard it hurts. His cock throbs against his jeans, neglected and aching, precum soaking the fabric. He’s never been this turned on in his life—and the worst part? Steve knows it. The bastard smirks, dragging a thumb over your lower lip. You suck it in eagerly, tongue swirling, before he pulls away and stands. It’s a fucking performance. Steve undoes his belt like he’s savouring the way Eddie’s eyes cling to his hands, the leather slipping free with a final, damning shush. You whimper, still boneless from your orgasm, but your eyes flutter open when Steve’s palm slides up your thigh, squeezing. “Please, Steve?” you breathe, and his grin turns feral. “Not yet, love.” He glances at Eddie, whose throat bobs under the weight of his stare. “Munson hasn’t earned it yet.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Fuck. He’s dripping in his pants, his hips twitching like a fucking teenager, and Steve’s going to make him wait? But then—

Steve grips Eddie’s chin, forcing his gaze up. “You want her?” he asks, voice rough. Eddie nods, greedy. “Then prove you can take care of her.” And just like that, Steve shoves him onto the couch with you. “Do it like I showed you.”

For a heartbeat, Eddie can only stare—at the way your breath hitches when he touches you, at the way your eyes lock on Steve, who’s sprawled in the armchair like it’s a fucking throne, lazily stroking his cock. Your lips part, and Eddie swears he sees your mouth water—fuck, it’s obscene. His hands tremble as he touches you—really touches you—this time. His mouth finds your thigh, kissing up the sensitive skin, trying to mimic the way Steve had worshipped you earlier. But when his tongue drags over you, your breath catches—wrong—and Steve’s low chuckle cuts through the room like a knife.

“Christ, Munson,” Steve sighs, his grip tightening around his cock. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Eddie grits his teeth. He is. He’s thinking about the way Steve had made you scream, the way your back arched off the couch like you were trying to fuse into him. He’s thinking about the fact that Steve’s watching, lazily stroking himself while Eddie fumbles like a virgin.

And the nail in the coffin? You’re watching Steve too. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes heavy with desire—but not for Eddie.

“Fuck,” Eddie rasps, pulling back. His voice is wrecked.“I can’t—I don’t—” Steve leans forward, fingertips ghosting over your throat as you keen toward him. “You can,” he growls. “Stop trying to perform. Just feel her.”

Eddie’s breath comes in sharp bursts. This time, when his mouth finds your cunt, he doesn’t think. He listens. To the way your breath catches when he licks a slow, experimental stripe. To the way your hips jerk when he sucks just there. And when your fingers fist in his hair—finally—it’s not to guide him, but to hold on.

“There,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with approval. “Now you’re getting it.” Eddie moans against you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat. Fuck. He’s dizzy with it—the taste of you, the sounds you’re making, the way Steve’s gaze burns into him like a brand.

But then Steve stands. Eddie barely has time to register the loss before Steve’s dragging him up by the collar, spinning him around to face you—really face you. Your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your thighs slick with Steve’s work.

"Look at her," Steve growls, his voice a dark scrape against Eddie’s ear. "Don’t just glance—really look."

And Eddie looks. He sees the damp flush between your breasts, the way your hips lift like you’re already chasing it, the way your pupils blow wide when Steve’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. "She’s not yours," Steve breathes, dragging his teeth over Eddie’s earlobe. "But fuck, look how bad she wants you to try."

Eddie’s pulse races. Then Steve steps back, gesturing like a king permitting a subject to kneel. "Go on. Make her forget my fucking name."

So he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the noise in his head, to sync himself with the thrum of your heartbeat beneath him, to dissolve into every breath you take. He wants to belong here, in this moment, where Steve’s approval hangs heavy in the air and your pleasure is the only thing that matters — success. A satisfied hum from Steve when Eddie finally finds the right rhythm, a broken moan from your lips. But your eyes — your eyes stay locked on Steve, even as Eddie’s mouth works you over. It’s still him you want. Hunger battles with pride in Eddie’s chest. He hates how badly he craves this—how much he needs Steve’s approval—but god, he longs to pull those sounds from you himself, to unravel you with nothing but his touch. And so he moves like a man possessed, single-minded in his mission to play you like an instrument, to pluck every string until you snap.

Your taste is intoxicating, something he’s already addicted to, something he’s not sure he can live without anymore. Your eyes scrunch shut as pleasure blooms, so lost in it that you don’t even notice Steve speeding up his strokes, his grip tight on his cock. Eddie gets close—so close he can practically taste your climax—but you linger on the edge, just out of reach. He’s aware he’s missing something, some final piece to send you over, but he can’t find it. Then your eyes flicker open again, searching for Steve’s gaze like it’s the only thing that can save you. And Eddie knows—he’s pushed his luck too far. Steve’s patience snaps—not with his pleasure, but with Eddie’s failure to give you yours. Next thing he knows, he’s being dragged back, the warmth of you ripped away too soon. Steve looms over him, a predator in human skin, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “If you want to get a chance to fuck her,” Steve growls, voice dripping with challenge, “you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Eddie’s brain becomes the mental equivalent of a dropped Wi-Fi signal—because did Steve just imply—?

Every touch, every taste Steve has allowed him, Eddie has devoured with insatiable hunger. But now it hits him—this is more than just a demonstration. Steve might actually let him fuck you. Or he would have. Now, Eddie isn’t sure he’ll ever get the opportunity again. A sharp, breathy cry from you yanks him from his thoughts. Steve has already turned you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees, one foot perched on the armrest behind you like a damn king claiming his treasure. Eddie is so close to your face now, your slick still glistening on his chin as you blink up at him, dazed. Steve teases your entrance with his cock, just enough to have you pushing back, begging for it. And for one glorious, heart-stopping moment—you look at Eddie.

Not at back at Steve.

At him.

Your gaze is pure, primal desperation—like he’s the one you need. Steve drives into you in one brutal thrust, and your eyes screw shut in ecstasy. You sob Steve’s name, but your eyes flicker back open as you you look at him.

“Baby, please—” And it dawns on him—you are begging Steve, but not for Steve. No, you’re begging for permission, your gaze locked onto Eddie like he’s the only thing anchoring you to earth. He doesn’t know what you’re asking for, but Christ, he already knows he wants it just as much.

Steve, of course, does understand. He drags his cock into you agonisingly slow, pressing tender kisses along your spine even as his voice comes out harsh. “You think he deserves it, honey?” You whine, desperate, but Steve doesn’t need more than that. He leans over you, his thrusts deliberate, sinful. “How could I ever say no to you?”

And fuck, Eddie gets it now—gets why Steve turns possessive, gets why you love it. He’s watching the two of you move like a single entity, Steve’s hips rolling into you with a precision that rewrites Eddie’s entire understanding of sex. And the real tragedy? He’s pretty sure you’re only getting started. Your fingers fist in Eddie’s collar, yanking him down hard. His breath stutters as your lips take him in, hot and needy, and he doesn’t think—just reacts, his hands tangling in your hair as Steve’s thrusts rock you forward, forcing Eddie deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations nearly undoing him right there, but then your hand tugs at his belt loop like it’s personally offended you, and Eddie’s thoughts fry into static. What do you want? He glances at Steve for answers, but the bastard just laughs, driving into you harder like he’s savouring Eddie’s confusion.

And God help him, Eddie looks. It’s downright pornographic. Steve’s cock glistens as he pulls out, your body clinging to him like it never wants to let go, and every time he sinks back in, you clench, a broken noise tearing from your throat.

As Eddie freezes, you take matters into your own hands, undoing Eddie’s belt with ruthless efficiency. The zipper’s barely down before his jeans pool at his knees. He looks at Steve again—helpless—but Steve just shakes his head, smirking. “Jesus, Munson. Keep up.”

Your fingers brush the straining outline of his cock through his boxers, and his hips jerk. Your mouth finds the spot beneath his ear, teeth scraping, and—fuck—it nearly sends him over the edge right then. You’re not gentle. You know exactly what you want. In seconds, his dick is in your hand, your grip perfect, and the first stroke has him grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. He wants to keep his eyes open—to watch, to devour every detail of every second—but his body betrays him. A shudder wracks through him, his lashes fluttering helplessly before his head falls back, lost to the crushing wave of ecstasy."

“Fuck—!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze, dark with amusement. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show him how good you can be.” His hand tangles in your hair—not guiding, just holding—like he wants Eddie to see he’s the one in control. That every gasp you make, every shudder Eddie can’t suppress, is because Steve orchestrated it.

“Bet he’s never felt anything like you.” Eddie’s thighs tremble, his cock twitching against your tongue. He’s close, too close, and Steve knows it—fuck, he’s enjoying it. “Look at him,” Steve murmurs, dragging his cock out of you just to slam back in, punching a moan from your lips. “Already shaking for you. Bet he wishes it was him inside instead.” His thumb swipes over your clit, and you whimper, your rhythm on Eddie faltering. “But he’s got to earn that, doesn’t he?”

Earn it? Eddie’s vision blurs at the edges. He’d shamelessly beg if it meant— Then your tongue swirls over the head of his cock, and he chokes, almost falling forward into you.

“Steady,” Steve warns, though his voice is anything but calm. “You cum before she does, and I’ll make you watch while I fuck her twice as hard.”

Eddie’s groan is nothing short of pure agony. Steve fucks you more slowly then—cruel, like he’s savouring Eddie’s torment—dragging his cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your eyes water. But your dedication doesn’t waver; if anything, it burns hotter. “Shit—” Eddie’s hips jerk involuntarily, but you swallow him deeper, humming around the salt-bitter heat of him. His fingers scramble at the cushions, knuckles white. “Jesus, sweetheart, where the hell did you learn—?”

Steve’s laugh is a dark, knowing thing against your neck. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading you wider as he presses inside, slow, letting you feel every fucking inch. “She’s full of surprises,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. “But you’re not going to last long enough to find out, are you?”

Eddie’s groan disintegrates, the way you swirl your tongue around him, the slick pressure of your throat—it’s nothing like the groupies who’d thrown themselves at Corroded Coffin. This is ruination. This is worship. Your mouth works him with practiced greed, and Eddie’s vision blurs.

“Fuck, I’m not—I can’t—”

“Yes. You can.” Steve’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument—this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a command. His hand moves from your scalp to your nipple, pinching just shy of pain until you whine around Eddie’s cock. His other hand slips between your legs, circling your clit with filthy precision. “You going to come for us, sweetheart?” he rasps. You nod frantically, lips stretched lewdly around Eddie. “Good. Let him see.” You break with a cry, muffled around Eddie’s cock, and Steve growls as your body clenches around him. “That’s it,” he grits out, hips snapping harder, “that’s my girl—” Eddie’s spellbound.

Steve fucks you through it, your tears smearing Eddie’s thighs. His breath comes in punched-out gasps, cock twitching against your tongue—

Steve loses control first. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hips stutter when you whimper, oversensitive, as Steve grinds into you one last time—claiming you like he wants to brand the feeling into your skin. And then— “Fuck!” Eddie’s back arches, his cock jerking as you pull off with a slick pop, begging Steve for mercy. He comes untouched, frustration and relief searing through him as he gasps your name like a prayer. Steve laughs, low and satisfied. Eddie’s too wrecked to care, chest heaving—until Steve’s next words send him tumbling straight back into want.

“Let me know if you’ve got any requests for the next lesson.”

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chuutu · 1 month ago

Text

Possibly Maybe

dbf!bucky x young fem!reader

18+ NSFW

cw : smoking, age gap, teasing, daddy kink, pet names, perv!bucky, slight soft dom/sub dynamics, face slapping, finger sucking, slight corruption kink, hairy!bucky (yum), size kink, handjob, oral (m!receiving), degradation, spit kink, slight dacryaphilia, boot riding, hair pulling, face fucking but not really idk, sent kink, cum eating, aftercare ofc, panty stealing bc this old man is a pervert!!

wc : 3.6K

a/n : i'm not too sure how I feel about this one; it took way longer than i expected so i apologize! i hope you guys enjoy it <3 🍮

Bucky and your father became close friends after you two moved in right next to him after starting your second year of college. Bucky was an extremely attractive older man with long brown hair that fell at the side of his face when he was working with your father, biceps that looked like they could crush you, and well-kept short facial hair that made you weak to your knees. How could he not catch your attention?

It was a normal day; your father and Bucky were working outside for most of the day, finally coming inside to rest. They decided to sit on the couch and turn on the TV; usually, they ordered food and sat back to catch up. Your father occasionally lights up a joint to relax, and today was one of those days, taking a puff and passing it to Bucky.

You sit next to your father, eyeing both him and Bucky as they smoke. You’ve always been curious as to how it felt to smoke, especially after sneaking glances at Bucky as his lips wrap around the joint. “Yes, sweetheart,” your father calls out to you, pulling you out of your thoughts. He notices how you're staring the two down curiously.

“Can I try, Daddy?” You ask your father; he's slightly hesitant, but you're old enough and under his and his best friend's supervision, so he decides to loosen up a bit. Little did he know his best friend wasn't the most trustworthy person to have around you.

Passing the joint to you, you wrap your lips around the joint, taking a small puff and inhaling, then exhaling with a cough. "Easy there, kid," Bucky says as he watches you intently as you hold the joint to your lips, taking another hit.

"Daddy,” Bucky kept hearing your voice repeat in his head, his cock pulsating tightly against his jeans. What a perv, he thought to himself, getting hard after hearing his best friend's daughter call out to her father.

It wasn't a term of endearment you used often towards your father, but whenever Bucky was around, you used it quite often. Noticing how the first time you said it in front of Bucky, his eyes widened, inhaling the liquid of his drink, causing him to cough, he blamed it on drinking too quickly, but you knew that wasn't true.

Bucky felt dirty for thinking of his best friend's daughter in this way, but you didn't make it easy for him. He noticed how your outfits seemed to get shorter whenever he was around, and he saw how you'd glance at him when he was helping your father outside, though you never noticed that he was catching on to you.

"Bucky," you softly nudge his shoulder, passing the joint to him, which pulls him out of his thoughts. "Thanks, kiddo," he says softly, his fingers lightly caressing your thumb and pointer finger as he takes the joint in his fingers.

Your face heats up, but the knocking at the door catches everyone's attention. Remembering your father ordered food, you walk up to the door, grabbing the food and taking it to the table. Your father and Bucky finish up the joint and join you at the table.

Bucky takes a seat across from you, and this gives you an idea. The high gives you a weird confidence to do something you'd never imagine doing. Once everyone serves themselves, you lift your foot and lightly caress the side of Bucky's jean-clad leg; his eyes widen, and he chokes on the piece of pizza he just took a bite of.

"Are you alright, Buck?" Your father says with a look of concern," "Yeah, the pizza's hot." "Careful, kid; you don't want to burn yourself." "He's right, sweetheart," your father says, oblivious as to what was really happening under the table.

As you all finish up eating, you and Bucky exchange looks; yours is more curious while his is menacing; his ocean blue eyes are darker than usual. Standing up with a grin on his face, your father has the best idea, one that may actually benefit you.

"I feel like having ice cream," your father says now, walking towards the front door. "I'm going to walk to the grocery store; text me what you two want." Your father goes to open the door, and before he shuts it, he looks at Bucky. "Take care of her." Bucky nods. "Of course."

Once your father shuts the door, you walk over to the living room, slumping your body on the couch. Bucky then walks over to the other side of the couch, taking a seat with his legs slightly open and his head plush against the couch, his eyes staring right at you.

Like this, Bucky is now able to finally get a good look at you, his best friend's daughter, which made him feel gross, but how could he not give in to a pretty little thing like you? His eyes trailed your body, gazing at your soft, plush skin and the tight clothes you always wore around him so enticing, he thought.

You were wearing your favorite baby pink tank top that had an open back and a brown bow at the front; you paired that with your shortest brown mini skirt and some pink thigh-highs with lace that adorned your plush thighs.

Dressing like this made you feel like a princess, but along with that, you also always got compliments from Bucky, which you always looked forward to. Today you decided to not wear a bra, which you did from time to time, and whenever you did, you caught Bucky's eyes lingering a minute too long on your chest.

Feeling deeply relaxed on the couch, you hadn't caught Bucky's lingering eyes on your body, but as he was eyeing you down, his cock twitched in his jeans when he caught sight of your perky nipples poking through your tank top.

"You cold, sweetheart?" Bucky's voice startled you a bit; eyes now open, you realize that you've been slightly shivering, but most embarrassingly, you finally caught sight of your nipples poking right through your top.

Your cheeks heat up, hoping Bucky didn't catch it, but you spoke too soon. "Better cover up, kid," Bucky chuckles to himself as he catches sight of your red cheeks. "What a perv," you mumble as you go to grab the nearest blanket on the couch.

"What was that, kid?" Bucky says with his left eyebrow cocked up in surprise. "Oh, I didn't say anything." Petrified, you try to keep yourself busy in the moment now, adjusting your blanket to get comfy on the couch, hoping this moment would end quickly.

"But you like it, right?" he chuckles again. Your body freezes up. "Don't act so clueless, sweetheart. The thing you pulled at the dinner table with your father right next to you, those tiny fucking outfits you wear when I'm over—I'm not as clueless as you are."

Bucky knows he's wrong for doing this, but you're so enticing he just wants to sink his teeth into you. No matter the price for his actions, he is willing to pay every consequence if he can get a single taste from you, and with the way you act, it doesn't make it any easier for him to keep his desires hidden from you any longer.

“Come on, sweetheart, pull down the blanket,” he says teasingly. “You don’t have to act so shy now, y'know your father’s gone, and after the little stunt you pulled today, I must put you into your place."

"So come on now, take that blanket off, get on your knees, and crawl over to me," he says, patting his jean-clad thigh. Looking into his eyes, they seemed darker; you could see the hunger in his eyes.

Grabbing the blanket, you pull it off slowly, then you sit up straight; your shorts have ridden up your thighs a bit, but you ignore it and slowly lower your body till you're on your knees; you bend over, and you put your hands on the floor.

You start crawling towards Bucky, eye level with his legs; as you get closer, he spreads his legs open, now face-to-face with his muscular thighs. You lay your head on one of his thighs, looking right up at him with your doe eyes.

"Tha's it, my pretty girl," he says sweetly; taking his hand, he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. Your eyes start to stray to his crotch, finally noticing his bulge that had been straining tightly against his jeans, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Eyes up here," he snaps with his other hand to get your attention, lifting your chin up so your eyes meet his. Your eyes are glistening beautifully, so full of innocence, which drew Bucky in like a moth to a flame.

Kneeling down, you bring your hands to his jean-clad legs, slowly rubbing up and down, watching his lust-filled eyes peering down at you, causing a wet patch to grow between your legs. You squeeze your legs tightly together for some relief, but it's not enough; you crave more.

"Come on, baby girl, open up." Bucky's hand comes up to your dazed face and playfully slaps your cheek twice. Your eyes lazily gaze back to his as he sticks his thumb into your mouth, forcing it open. He presses the tip of his finger onto the soft, wet pad of your tongue.

Wrapping your lips around his thumb, you begin sucking on it, twirling your tongue around the tip of his finger and pulling it out of your mouth with a pop, your doe eyes peering up at Bucky for approval.

You had no idea your plan to just fuck around with Bucky would have led you to this, but you certainly didn't mind; it's almost as if Bucky had you under a trance. Following his every word like an order you had to obey in order to please him.

"Atta girl," Bucky says, cupping your face and rubbing your cheek with his spit-covered finger, leaving a shiny trail behind. Bucky adores the hazy look in your eyes; it makes him forget how terrible he should feel for corrupting his best friend's little girl.

You sneak your hands towards Bucky's bulge, lightly palming him through his jeans. His breath begins hitching as you increase the speed at which your palm is moving up and down his painfully hard cock. Stopping abruptly, you reach towards the button of his jeans, fumbling with it, trying to release him from his jeans.

"Easy there, I got it." Bucky goes to unbutton his jeans, and he could see the pure excitement in your eyes begging to see his cock up close. Hands still on his thighs, you reach to the band of his boxers, pulling them down; your eyes grow wide as you're greeted by his happy trail, making him chuckle.

As you pull down further, his cock springs free, slapping his lower stomach. The base of his girthy cock is adorned by curly hair; eyes trailing up, you notice the veins that lead to his weeping tip. Your mouth drools at the sight of his angry red tip leaking with pre-cum; you'd swear his cock is the prettiest you've ever seen.

Opening your mouth with your tongue out, you grab his cock, slapping it against your tongue. His pre-cum gets on your lip, so your tongue goes to collect the sweet and salty liquid. The taste on your tongue has you in pure bliss, panties dripping wet from the taste alone.

Quickly, you lick a strip from the base of his cock to the tip, leaving a quick peck on his tip. Looking up at Bucky, you give him the sweetest smile, but he can't ignore the pre-cum that's now covering your lips, which you're clueless about.

Your eyes go back to his cock, now wrapping your hands around the base as you bring your mouth back to his tip, giving it kitten licks and watching as his cock twitches in desperate need of something tighter like your throat. "Needy slut," Bucky says, giving your cheek a slap this time; it's hard enough to leave a sting, but it has you bucking your hips in desperate need of relief between your thighs.

You swirl your tongue around his weeping tip as you move your hands up and down the rest of his cock. Bucky was staring in awe at your small, soft, and delicate hands wrapped around his cock; it drove him insane. Having a pretty young thing engrossed with him made him feel like the luckiest man ever.

Ever since he first laid his eyes on you, he knew this wouldn't end well. As time went by, Bucky started to catch on to some things, one being your lingering glances at him when he would help your father outside. He had actually caught you on multiple occasions, but you played it off as being curious about his and your father's work.

What really hit the nail on the head was when he caught on to your excessive use of the word "daddy" when he was around. "Daddy, can you pass me a piece of bread, please?" With the sweetest smile you could muster up, you looked towards your father, but of course Bucky was right next to him, making his jeans tighten; Bucky knew it was a common term of endearment, but he couldn't help but think that you were doing this shit on purpose to rile him up.

"Fuckin' filthy cock slut," he groans, throwing his head back as yours starts to go further down his girthy cock, fitting it all in your throat. You could feel how his sensitive cock was pulsating at the feeling of your tight throat. The feeling of your warm throat taking his cock had him teetering over the edge; he was in pure bliss.

Looking back down at you, he couldn't miss a second of this, watching as you stuffed his cock down your throat, your lips sealed tightly around his cock, spit everywhere, mascara running down your face, but you looked beautiful. He had to engrain this very moment in his mind because there's no way this is going to happen ever again, or at least that's what he thought. You certainly wouldn't mind this continuing in secret; surely everyone has their secrets, so you're allowed to have your own.

As Bucky is admiring you, he seems to have noticed you bucking your hips; the sight of this almost made him snap. You feel Bucky's cock twitching; you were certain he was about to cum, but he didn't. As you continued, you felt something sneak between your legs, finally giving you that relief you desperately craved. You began rocking your hips on this object; soft moans fell from your lips.

Bucky had placed his work boot right between your thighs at an angle, giving you that pressure you desperately needed. Rocking your hips, you find a steady pace on the smooth surface of his leather boot, the wet patch on your panties leaving a trail of arousal on his boot.

Choked moans come out of your mouth as you continue to work up and down Bucky's cock. Bucky was watching in awe as your lips went from his tip and slammed down his length, making your nose brush up against the hair that adorned his lower stomach.

"Fuck, sweetheart." Bucky's breath hitched; he is entranced by your every movement. He knows he's about to snap once the pulsating of his cock gets quicker and his balls tighten up, begging for release.

Bucky grabs a fistful of your hair and slams your head down on his cock, keeping you still at the hilt. You could feel his hair around your lips and nose while he kept you pressed tightly against him; the scent of his musk and sweat from working hard all morning had the pace of your hips quickening as you began to feel something in your lower stomach about to snap.

"C-cumming," Bucky groans; the feeling of his warm cum shooting down your throat has that feeling in your lower stomach snap your throat so full of him, making you whine. The taste of his cum has your hips stuttering; your moans are muffled by his girthy cock, but he could feel the hums that came out around his length bouncing his boot so you could ride out your high.

The grip Bucky had on your hair was gone as he took a moment to catch his breath; he hadn't cum like that in years. Bucky's chest was heaving; almost breathless, he would've never thought a sweet thing like you would have all that in you. You were so obedient, but you still had your ways to slip through his demands and make him feel things he's never felt before.

Tapping on his jean-clad leg to get his attention, you look up at him through your lashes, letting go of his cock with a loud pop. Your cheeks are tear-stained, your lips are plump, and saliva is running down your chin. "Open up and let me see." Bucky taps on your cheek; sticking your tongue out, he sees that you swallowed every drop. "Thank you, sir," you giggle with a shy smile.

After he fixed his clothing, he got up off the couch, extending his arms out to you, who was still kneeling on the floor exhausted. "Come on, sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up before your father comes back; we cannot have him see you like this." Bucky grabs you in his arms, pulling you close to his chest; your legs wrap around his waist and your arms drape over his toned back as you relax into his chest.

Bucky carries you over to your room; pushing the door open, he walks in, places you on the edge of your bed, and gets on one knee. "One second," he grabs your foot, placing it on his thigh; grabbing the lace of your thigh-high, he pulls it off, then the other. "Feel better, doll?" he questions, rubbing at the red marks the lace had left from digging into your skin.

"I'm alright," you giggle. "Mm, what's so funny, sweetheart?" Bucky looks at you with a raised brow. "Well, weren't you just calling me a cock slut and slapping me silly? Now you're all worried about a common wardrobe malfunction most people have," you chuckled as Bucky continued to stare you down.

"Alright," he huffs, continuing to get you ready for bed, hands reaching under your skirt to the hem of your panties, pulling them down. "Doll, you left these soaked," he chuckled, bringing them to his face; he could see where your arousal had darkened your pink panties.

Your scent had him entranced; bringing them closer, he licked the damp fabric and let out a groan, "So sweet, but for now I'll just keep these." He gives you a soft wink, pocketing your panties for later use because he won't always have access to you, at least whenever your father's around.

Going to your dresser, he finds you a pair of lacy red panties, a baggy pajama tee, and some fluffy socks. Bringing it all to your bed, he kneels again, sliding your panties on and pulling your socks on. Finally removing your skirt and pulling up your shirt, he quickly pulls your pajama shirt over your head, which engulfs your entire body.

Exhausted, you fall back, giggling quietly to yourself; you couldn't believe this was actually happening. All those years you've been quietly observing him from afar, and now he was in your room getting you to bed after having you make a mess under him.

"Gotta get you to bed, sweetheart. Now, lie down and close those pretty eyes for me, yeah?" Bucky taps on your leg, bringing your attention back to him. You push yourself farther onto your bed, lying on your side; your hair falls over the side of your face.

Bucky's eyes soften at your sleepy face; your eyes barely open, he takes your blanket, pulling it over your body. "Night night, James," you say with a soft smile. "Goodnight, my pretty girl." Bucky leans over, pushing your hair behind your ear, giving you a peck on your cheek.

After pulling away, he stands there for a bit, watching your skin glisten under the moonlight that had seeped in through your window. Your hair, so silky smooth, splayed over your pillow. He wishes he could get in with you; he'd wrap his arms tightly against you as you snuggle into his arms, watching as you fall into deep sleep.

There were loud knocks on the door that had pulled Bucky out of his thoughts; you were fast asleep, so he headed down to the front door. Opening it to your father, of course, "Hey buck, I got the stuff," your father says with a grin, heading over to the counter with two grocery bags filled with random flavors of ice cream. "I didn't get any text, so I must've gone a little too overboard," he says with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Your father looks around confused, looking for you. "Oh, she had fallen asleep on the couch earlier, so I carried her to her room. That must've been too much for her first time smoking because she knocked out once she sat on the couch," Bucky chuckles, the lie coming out so dangerously natural. "Thanks, Buck, I can always count on you," your father says with a grin, slinging his arm around Bucky's shoulder.

"Now let's get into these," your father says, taking the ice creams out of the grocery bags. Eagerly, he goes into the cabinet, pulling out bowls for Bucky and himself and setting them on the counter. Each of them takes a bowl and picks a flavor, scooping it into their bowls. Putting everything away, they take their bowls to the living room and put on a movie to end the night.

feel free to reblog and leave a comment <3

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #dbf!bucky #chuutu #fics ( = ⩊ = )

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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months ago

Text

Cleaning out my drafts and stumbled across this horror piece. Minors DNI please.

Yandere Head Canons: The Dollhouse Husband

Yandere Living Doll x GN Reader x One Sided Neglectful Toymaker Husband

TW: yandere themes, unhealthy relationship dynamics, obsession, neglectful husband, unhappy arranged marriage, murder, horror, and gore (mentioned)

His face was beautiful, just like your husband’s, yet he wasn’t your husband. No, this adonic doll was an imposter. A crude imitation of your distant beau. A creation your husband, Jonathan, made out of cruelty so you’d stop clinging to him and your desire for him to love you. A doll he crudely named Johnny. The nickname you affectionately called your emotionally constipated husband.

A marriage that was arranged since the two of you were young and yet your husband would not lie with you. No… he’d rather play with his toys. Jonathan told you he had made you this doll to play with so you’d leave him alone…

“What’s wrong dear?” A smooth voice whispered in your ear as lanky arms wrapped around your body to pull you closer to his. His skin felt like ice and you didn’t even feel a heartbeat… was this man undead? He wasn’t human, but you weren’t even sure if he was even living. “Is my appearance not to your liking? Your husband did his best to make me exactly in his image.”

“…” you frowned at his words, your words died off in your throat before they could even be uttered. How could you forget that your toy maker husband built you a living doll to be a crude imitation of him all because you expressed a desire for more attention. Yet it felt as if you were not worthy of having the real husband. Only this doll. A doll that would do anything you asked of it to an almost unhealthy degree.

Everywhere you want, Johnny followed. If you were in the garden, so was Johnny. If you were in the tub, Johnny would wash your hair and back for you. It didn’t matter that you were disinterested in this lifeless mockery of your husband, the doll would follow you.

“Dear? Do you not like me?” The doll asked once more as his porcelain arms wrapped around you tighter. His perfect face remained unmoved, but you swore his tenor voice sounded anxious. “I’m just as good as he is! I dote on you! I take care of you and your needs! I’m made as a perfect replica-“

“But you’re not my husband.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your eyes filled with sadness. “Your body is as cold as ice and you have no heartbeat… your presence does nothing but make me sink into a larger pit of loneliness.”

“So you desire warm skin and a heart?” The doll asked in a hushed tone. His glassy green eyes admired your form. “If I were to be more human… would you like me more?”

“…yes.” You just wanted the conversation to be over. To bury your head on your pillow and sob until you passed out from the loneliness and pity that consumed you. Were you that unloveable that your own husband gifted you a living doll?

If only you noticed the way Johnny rested his head on your shoulder as the cogs in his mind turned. You’d love him if he had skin and a heart? He’d do just that…

How were you to know that this doll would present you Jonathan’s heart the next day in a heart shaped box with a smile that could only be described as uncanny? Not to mention the porcelain white skin that was no doubt from your husband’s own face that rested on Johnny’s like a mask.

“I have the traits you desire… so won’t you like me now? I’m better than him in every way!” He shouted as he set the box down on the dining room table in front of you. He took his pointer fingers and curved the loose skin around his lips into a smile. “We can be happy here in our dollhouse! Please! Please say you like me now!”

You felt numb as the heart in front you leaked crimson all over the box. Perhaps… this was all your own doing due to your selfishness? Of begging to be loved all your life that only a living doll would pay you any mind?

You let out a shaky sigh before you gulped. The alive burned your throat like it was acid. Your gave a fake smile to Johnny who eagerly awaited the four words he longed to hear for his entire existence.

“I like you, Johnny.”

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sevsbunny · 3 months ago

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stoned

stoner!sevika x stoner!reader

warnings: WHEW!!!! um. gp!sevika ya. choking. thumb sucking. daddy kink. breeding kink. fingering (r receiving). p in v. dom!sevika. praising. use of weed. um. yeah. mentions of somno. this is straight porn with semi plot.

note: hey! um. this turned out way longer than i expected. i simply listened to mac millers “stoned” and it sparked this inspo so…hope you enjoy! feed back always welcome and asks are always open! semi edited & definitely no word count…there’s a lot here.

EIGHTEEN PLUS. MINORS DNI.

sevika rolling up a joint for you and her while you’re laid out on her bed, only in her t-shirt

she’s man spreading in her desk chair as she brings the paper up to her lips and licks it, your eyes never leaving the movements

your fingers flip through some records, finding the more sensual and relaxing one that she has, the one both of you usually fuck to lol

“baby put on a record,” she says huskily, eyes low from the joint she had just shared with you before rolling this one. the shimmer she took pumping slowly through her veins as she finishes flicking the joint to roll the tip closed

you slink out of bed, finding sev’s record collection, sitting pretty in a bin you got for her after see how she used to store her records (on the floor under her bed you about had a heart attack)

“good choice, doll.” you blush at the praise as you walk over to her record player and flicking it up, before putting the record on and putting the little arm onto the grooves

you turn on the record player, adjusting the sound before it starts slow, the sound filling the room as you hear a flick of a lighter

you look over and see sevika’s broad and wide frame spread out more on her chair if that was even possible

the joint hung loosely on her thick lips you could kiss and suck all day. the lower lip piercing she has glinting in the low light and she only had on her black boxers and a wife pleaser — both black.

the low light from her floor lamp illuminating the room in a warm red, the shadows dancing on sev’s features as she takes a long practiced drag from the joint

she looked like sin.

“c’mere.” the command is simple, her voice even and low. she outstretched her bionic hand, motioning you over with her pointer finger

your feet hover over to her without your brian registering youre moving until you’re standing in between sevika’s thighs and her metal hand grips your hip possessively.

you feel your throat harbor a small whine as her bionic fingers dig into your skin. “there you are. so pretty,” she murmurs, her eyes grazing over your frame as you stand there for her in her shirt

her eyes hooded, a dark shade of grey from the effects of the joint and the shimmer. she tugs you closer to her by your hip, moving you into her lap

your straddling her one thigh, as she brings the joint up to your lips and lets you take a hit. your eyes never leave hers as your lips wrap around the joint seductively. she hitches a breath, the grip on your hip to tightening softly.

you sit on her thigh, and you both let out a soft gasp as you can feel how wet you really are already. “that wet already?” she teases, her voice gruff and low as she looks up at you, her eyes flickering over your gaze to your lips and down your chest. your nipples were hard , poking through her thin t shirt

“hm..” she hums softly as she holds the joint in between her lips before taking both of her hands and gripping your hips tightly, moving them slowly up the sides of your skin to grasp your breast in her hands

your eyes can leave the sight before you — the joint loosely in between her lips, her eyes only looking at her hands moving against your breasts as they grab and squeeze

her nostrils flare as you make a sharp whining sound when she pinches one of your nipples with her bionic hand. she takes her flesh hand to hit the joint before passing it to you.

you take it, as soon as her hand goes back to your breasts, tipping her head back slightly, looking through her lashes up at you

“take a hit, baby.” she commands softly, eyes darting from the joint to your lips persuasively. you lick your lips before bringing it up to your lips and taking a hit, her thumbs and forefingers pinching your nipples slightly as you exhale

you let out a small cough, a soft smile spreading on sevika’s lips as she runs her hands from over your shirt to up and under your it, across the expanse of your tummy and to your chest, rubbing soothing circle. “good girl. another.”

you obey, taking a longer one while feeling weed start to affect your system. she knew you loved smoking indica hybrids, that’s what most of her garden was when she got her hands on seeds. she didn’t sell, just grew enough for the both of you.

her hands stayed at your chest before going to to play with your breasts, skin to skin making you gasp slightly under her touch. “so soft, all mine,” she murmurs, before sitting up and pulling you closer to her. she takes the joint lightly from you, placing it again in that sacred spot between her lips, before tugging the ends of your shirt up and over your head

“need to see all of you, sweetheart.” exhaling some smoke from her nose, she takes her bionic arm and grips your chin lightly, before taking a hit of her joint and pulling you towards her.

pressing her lips against yours, you felt the cool metal from her lip ring press against your lips , as she exhaled the smoke into your mouth. you gladly inhaled, letting the second hand shot gun smoke fuel your brain and nerves. your sensitivity to her touching you made your skin melt, your limbs heavy.

she kisses you softly, nips the bottom of your lip playfully before pulling away and letting go of your chin. “good girl.” her restraint is wearing thin, watching your eyelids heavy with each second and puff of the joint. she can feel you drenching her bare thigh, your hips staying perfectly still despite the whimpers that fall from your mouth

“vika…” your brain is becoming mush, the weed flowing through your veins and making your core throb as she holds the joint up to your lips and you take a few hits.

“what is it, pretty girl?” she muses, taking a hug from the joint as she cocks her head to the side. you pout, she knows what you want, does she have to make you beg?

“use your words, doll. daddy can’t read your mind.” so she does know. you bite your lip, your hands coming to balance themselves on her shoulders, her flesh hand coming to grip your hip steady as she continues smoking the joint with her bionic hand.

“wanna…fuck…need you…” you can’t properly form the words, the weed making you feel too far gone. you’re a stoner, you love smoking and you’d say you could almost out smoke sevika. (she’d never let you)

but there was something about the way the slow, sensual music from the record, the way her hands slowly gripped her hips tighter, pushing them back slowly, before pulling them forward.

you let out a small whine as your brain caught up to her movements. she wanted you to grind on her thigh, the desire and need pulsing through her gaze as she stubs out the joint, and bringing her bionic hand to your other hip.

“come on, baby, you’re soaking me already. tell daddy what you want.” she commands, lowly, moving your hips at a slow pace across her thigh. your slick making it easy for your cunt to move against her skin.

watching her leaned back, guiding your hips against her thigh and the way she was looking at you like you were her next meal had your cunt throb against her skin.

and she felt it.

she smirked, gripping your hips before hauling you up and into her arms, your arms securing around her neck andher flesh arm hooking your leg around your thigh so your cunt was pressed snug up against her cock.

you let out a gasp, feeling how hard she was through her boxers. your hold tightening around her neck as did your grip with your legs around her waist. she had hips, hips that knew how to fuck against you and with the wicked glint in her eyes, you knew exactly that’s what she planned on doing.

her bionic arm held most of your weight combined with your effort, as she brought her flesh hand to squeeze your ass firmly, making you gasp out. she reaches further in between your legs, and she already knew how soaked you were giving the cold air hitting her thigh where your cunt sat a few seconds prior

but nothing could compare to feeling it on her flesh fingers — how soaked you were and continue to get.

you let a soft moan slip out as soon as you felt her thick fingers glide along your folds, dropping even more with the added pressure of your clit against her cock.

“daddy,” you whimpered into her, hiding your face into her neck embarrassingly as she stroked your cunt, spreading your wetness around easily.

“this all for me, sweetheart?” a tease in her voice followed by a soft grunt as she teased your hole with her middle finger. “shit..” she groans under her breath before sinking her finger in and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as you feel her press into you.

she quickly adds another one as soon as she realizes that it’s so easy to slip in because you’re so fucking wet, you probably wouldn’t even realize if she slipped her cock inside your cunt — you were that wet

but she needed to feel you cum around her fingers atleast one time before her cock (many times after)

she picked up her pace, her fingers thrusting into you at a rate that made your head swim. your body felt like jelly as you clung to sevika, feeling her hips rut up into you and adding the pressure against your clit as she finger fucked you.

“you feel so fucking good baby,” her grip on you with her bionic arm tightens as she feels your stomach clench against her, a silent warning you’re about to cum. “already about to cum? you’re so damn easy…” mutters and groans under breath as you whine and whimper against her, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin on her neck — claiming her.

“daddy, fuck -“ you moan as she hits your sweet spot, and she grins

“daddy getting the sweet spot for you, doll?” you moan as you nod, digging your nails into her skin as she fucks you senseless. along with the added pressure of her dick throbbing against your clit with each thrust of her hips, you’re loosing your mind.

“go on baby, i know you wanna cum. let me have it, please baby?” her tone is soft, even if her grunts and groans are deep. hearing her beg for you to cum on your hand has you moaning her name, before you clench around her fingers and feel your orgasm wash over you in her arms.

“that’s it baby, good fucking girl.” she growls deeply, and you can feel how heavy she’s breathing against you. she slips her fingers out, and pulls her cock out, rubbing the tip against your weeping hole.

“sev, please..” your begging, but you knew she’d give it to you anyways. your just too fucking high to really think with your brain.

“awe,” she coos, pushing the tip of her cock into your hole slowly. “baby’s already gone dumb on daddy’s dick?” you moan softly as she sinks you down further, nails digging deeper into her skin you know you’ll leave marks there later.

“oh, fuck yes..” you moan softly as she positions her flesh hand back on your ass, balancing the weight back out before she really sinks deeper into you.

you both moan together as soon as she bottoms out, your clit rubbing up against her bush and her cock so deep inside of you, you feel like she’ll split you open

“oh fuck, sweetheart…” you look up at sev, her eyes on you. her hair disheveled with pieces sticking in places and some in her face. she grunts as she grinds her hips up into you, your mouth falling open as she does. “your pussy feels like heaven around my cock, you know that?” she doesn’t expect you to answer — shit she doesn’t except you to do anything.

you turn into a babbling mess as soon as she picks up the pace of her hips, her thighs slapping up into your ass as your cunt drools on your cock and balls.

“that’s it doll, just hold on and take all of daddy’s dick.” her finger tips dig into the supple flesh of your ass as your moaning, the sound of her pre cum and your arousal making a obscene sound reverberated through the room. the pace of the music soon matches the pace of her hips, long, deep and fast strokes making you see stars

“daddy, fuck i’m gonna cum again …” she grins at that, deeply chuckling as she picks up the pace again, before walking over to the bed and gently laying you on your back — her cock still deep inside of you.

she moves your legs so they are now unwrapped from her hips and spread wide around them — as wide as you can get them. the tip of her cock hits harder as she pushes a pillow under your hips.

you grab her arms as she slots them besides your head, her flesh hand coming to wrap itself around your throat and squeezing. you smirk in response, your cunt clenching as soon as she adds pressure.

“you like that baby?” a wicked grin spreads across her face as she grunts, taking her bionic hand and pressing two finger against your clit.

“come on baby. cum for me. cream all over this fat dick.” your mouth falls open with a breathless gasp as she keeps her flesh hand firmly around your neck, moving her thumb to bring against your bottom lip. you poke your tongue out and wrap it around the tip of her thumb.

her eyes blaze with lust, pupils blown and you feel her cock throb inside of you as soon as she registers how fucking nasty you are.

“shit, you’re such a dirty slut.” she groans deeply, her fingers speed up on your clit, making your cunt clench with each fast stroke of her hips, her cock sliding in and out of you with ease. you were a dripping mess — all over her cock, her balls and most definitely her fucking sheets. she didn’t give a shit though. not with the way you looked wrapped around her cock like this.

“you’re a fucked out beautiful, stupid mess, baby.” she comments, her eyes gone from the weed and sex, her cock throbbing with each thrust as she feels your cunt clench once more before you’re squirting against her lower chest.

she groans at the beautiful messy sight, her thumb still in your mouth as you moan breathlessly. she eases a bit of pressure on your throat as you ride your high, making sure to get every last drop before she takes her hand off and removes her thumb to squeeze your breast.

“so fucking beautiful baby.” she leans down, taking her bionic hand from your clit as you whine from the over sensitivity, as she rests her forehead against your shoulder.

you wrap your arms around her neck as you pull her closer, and she takes her flesh hand to press against your lower stomach. “feel that, doll? feel my cock deep inside of you? gonna cum my load so deep in you, make sure it sticks..” she’s babbling now, her thrusts becoming more erratic as she sloppily kisses and sucks your skin. she’s a mess on top of you, and you can’t help but clench your cunt around her cock one more time as you feel her cum

“fuck vika, shit…” you’re moaning with her as her hands come to grip both your hips hard, pushing a few final thrusts of her cock into you, before she collapses on the side of you.

“doll,” you whine softly as she curls you into her so you’re both facing each other on your sides, her cock still hard buried inside of you. one of the side affects for shimmer — sevika had a longer endurance and bigger libido. you loved it, knowing you’d be able to serve sevika any time she needed to get off.

and it seemed like even though she was just balls deep inside your pussy. she needed more.

“know you’re tired,” she mumbles as she thrusts her hips slowly up into you, her arms tightly wrapped around your torso as you have a leg hiked up over her hip. “pussy still needs daddy’s dick though, mm..feel her sucking me in..” you hide your face into her chest as she slowly rocks into you, tugging the blanket over your frames.

it’s true, you’re cunt has been throbbing at the idea of you falling asleep while she uses you to her own desire. her own little toy.

“vika…” your moan softly, the music from the record playing its last song — something slow and quiet, sensual. the perfect mood for sevika. she groans softly as she feels your sleepy pussy clench around her, dripping all over her.

“rest your eyes sweetheart, daddy will take care of this pretty cunt.” she grunts softly as she moves her hips slowly in and out of you, the squelching sound of your cock and her cum making your head spin as you close your eyes, pressing against her.

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