Don’t Mind Me 💆‍♀️ Just Minding My Own Business 💆‍♀️ Thinking About Best Friends

My Dear Birdie

Summary: Anselm Vogelweide is charmed by you and his strangeness turns you on

Contents: 🔥 18+ nsfw and very smutty, sex w/ humor, sex toys, exhibitionism, mention of drugs, p in v, butt stuff, food stuff (~2.8k)

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It had begun as a joke. A friend of a friend had said, "do you want to meet the weirdest guy that anyone has ever met. Ever?"

"Yes?" You'd said.

And that's how you'd entered Anselm Vogelweide’s social sphere. 

And he was as advertised. Old-fashioned suits and way of speaking, unnecessarily old leg brace and glasses. His dark black and gray hair parted neatly, but still a bit wild, and a beard that moved as much as his lips when he talked. Surrounded by a group of people that, well, it was hard to say if some of them were even human people.

Despite the affectations, he was devastatingly handsome to you and had a magnetism you hadn’t known existed.

"But you are so delicate," he had said with a smile as you'd shaken his hand for the first time. "My dear little birdie."

"Says a guy with Vogel in his last name," you'd mumbled.

He held your hand, put his other on top of it, gently stroking your skin. "My dear birdie, might you know anything about crime?"

You tried to remember to ask your friend, how their friend, had come to know this insanely rich oddball. He was clearly up to no fucking good.

You looked at Anselm, trying to focus on the one, clear lens of his glasses. "Oh sure I majored in organized crime. Minor in destruction of evidence."

Anselm laughed. A strange, rusty sound. "Oh, dear birdie, you are very naughty."

And that had made you laugh.

He'd invited you to keep him company the next weekend. You’d been visiting him for almost a year off and on.

His library was like something out of a dream; huge illustrated botany books, German fairy tales with gold leaf embossing, careful notes in the margins of several editions of Anna Karenina, and shelves and shelves of very dirty, very specific books. 

Like you'd read one where a seven-dicked God had been tricked into impregnating an entire harem of beautiful, soft-skinned, half-plant women with three or four breasts each. And it had drawings.

There was something about Anselm. He’d never made a move on you, though you knew he had women or men brought to the estate sometimes.

He stared at you whenever you were in the room. You could tell by the way his eyes watched you that the man knew his way around someone else's body. Yours was born female, but you knew it made no difference to him. He liked you.

Maybe it was because of the accident he never talked about. His own body didn’t work so well. Not that you’d thought about how his body worked. Ahem

The skin on the left half of his body was scarred and made it difficult for him to hear from that side. Every once in awhile, his breathing got away from him.

He wore a creaky leg brace and once, when one of his lackeys had suggested he should use a cane, Anselm had shot the guy in the leg.

“Now you need one,” he’d said dryly.

It shouldn’t have been normal to watch something like that, but Anselm had no interest in normal. And you found that, surprisingly, you didn’t either.

“Dear birdie, come bend over my desk,” he says to you one evening as you sit on the sofa in his study, reading. His words are slowly drawn out, his strange accent turning his cadence warm and intimate.

“What?” You look over at him. He’d just finished a drink and had made the request as if it was something you did all the time instead of completely out of left field.

“Don’t you think it’s time that we stop being so patient with each other? I have been fucking women who look like you for three months now. It is not satisfying anymore. I must, I must, have the real thing.”

You close the book and lay it on the couch. You look across from you, to where Anselm’s third cousin is sitting, pretending not to listen, and one of Anselm’s bodyguards is looking at the exchange with interest.

“Anselm, can we be alone?” You say as you stand.

He flicks his fingers at the sofa and the two other men leave as you approach Anselm’s desk. He strokes his beard, taking in your figure with a deep inhale.

“Bend over the edge of my desk and let me bury myself in you.“

“Whoa, Anselm,” you hold up your hand, “what brought all of this on? We’ve known each other for months now. I kind of assumed you weren’t interested in fucking me.”

He tut-tuts you with his tongue, one finger wagging back and forth at you. “Fucking is fucking, dear birdie. But with you, I had to be patient. I have not gotten to where I am in life by refusing to put in a little effort.”

“Living proof that crime does pay, sometimes.”

He ignores you and continues. “And I have put in so much effort for you, for one so small in stature. You have noticed my gestures. And I have noticed that you have noticed. I have seen your eyes stroking my cock, you naughty thing. You shouldn’t tease.” He pats the leather top of his desk.

“Okay, I have been doing that, yeah,” you say.

“I treasure your honesty. And you. Not only your mind, but I’m sure, also your body.”

You’d never thought of your body in any particular way. In fact, it had been awhile since you’d been with anyone. You’d been busy. And here was Anselm, with his strange praise and alluring invitation.

You walk around his desk and, still sitting, he pulls you in closer, stroking your shoulders and arms, down your legs, before turning you by the hips to face his desk. You bend over prettily for him and grip the far edge. He sighs as if he can finally relax. You hear his chair scrape as he positions it directly behind you.

“You are a comfort to me,” he says as he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down carefully with your underwear.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.”

“I will not be offended that you sound so surprised.”

You shrug.

“Look at you. Perfection. You smell of sex.” You feel his breath between your legs as he talks, a slight brush of his soft beard. “Let me clean you with my tongue.”

He uses his fingers to pull the lips of your cunt apart and he wastes no time diving in, tongue-first, moaning. You feel the cold of his glasses press against the flesh of your ass as he digs his tongue as far as it can go, his beard lighting up every nerve ending you have. He swirls his tongue around and around, before sucking gently while tonguing your hole, his thumb working back the hood of your clit to make you hiss and squirm.

“Anselm,” you say.

“Be still,” he says, giving your ass a firm pat. His thumb grazes over your asshole. “May I?”

A knock at the door jolts you, but Anselm holds you firmly with his hands.

“Business, dear birdie,” he says. “Do you mind?”

He licks you again, from your clit all the way back to your rim, the tip of his tongue playfully poking at your hole.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“Come in,” Anselm yells loudly. “Be quick or I will shoot you,” he tells the butler who comes in.

The man sets down a silver tray stacked with strapped cash. A cookie on a white linen napkin is perched on top. The butler is straight-faced and he’s probably seen much stranger while working in Anselm’s household. 

“Ah, yes, my winnings,” Anselm says, mouth still between your legs, making you squirm, “but take the cookie with you. Chocolate chip cookies do not go with beautifully wet cunt.” He lifts his head long enough to yell at the butler. “GET THE FUCK OUT. No one has any respect for my time,” he says to you, through your pussy.

You’re having trouble catching your breath. Anselm’s lips and tongue are sucking and teasing you like you are his last meal on Earth. Even though a butler you’ve only seen a few times was just watching you get eaten out, you’re coming. Hard. Your fingers dig into the edge of his desk, thighs shaking, throat burning from moaning so loudly. Your brain goes completely white as pleasure seizes your muscles.

Anselm is just lapping and licking at you, humming over every drop you give him, licking down your thighs to catch anything he’s missed.

Finally, once your lungs actually work again and your body has relaxed over his desk, even though your hips are digging into the wooden edge, he sits back in his chair.

He gently taps your legs aside so he can open the top drawer of his desk. He shuffles around in it for a bit before closing it and standing, leaning his body over yours to show you what he’s retrieved.

“I would like to put this in your ass while I fuck you,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at it. “Is that a dildo made of wood?”

“It’s an antique,” he says delightedly, running his fingers over the carved ridges of its length. 

Your eyes shift to his face and you just barely resist making a joke that would surely have pissed him off.

He frowns. “Cold in here. I shall warm it for you.” 

He rolls it between the palms of his hands and you have to bite your top lip to keep from laughing.

“This is one that I enjoy myself immensely,” he says. “There is no craftsmanship in sex toys these days. Mass produced intimacy. I’ve already had a custom harness sent from Italy to restrain you in. I’m sure it will fit. I’m very good with visual weights and measurements. You know, I made most of my early money in cocaine.”

He reaches back into the drawer for a bottle of lube and coats the wooden length liberally, using what’s left on his hands to tease you and make sure you’re ready for him.

Anselm looks at your holes. “Perhaps I should do this the other way around,” he looks at the dildo. “No, next time.”

He rests the tip of the dildo at your asshole. You nod your permission. 

As he pushes the dildo slowly into you, working it past your initial resistance and then letting it sink in completely, he moans just as deeply as you do. You hear him undo his belt and pants. Another metallic sound that you assume is dispatching with his brace, which you’re grateful for because if he creaked as he fucked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to come again. 

Or maybe, you’d have a hard time without it now that you’d thought of it. Next time, as Anselm had said.

He runs the searing hot length of his cock along your inner thighs, which is a kindness because if he’d gone straight to shoving it inside of you, you might have fallen asleep waiting for him to get balls deep. No wonder he felt the freedom to be so strange. He’s filthy rich and has a dick the size of your forearm.

Anselm is slow and steady as you tense, then remember to relax, then clench around him as he fills you, relaxing again so the head of his cock can shove your walls open for the rest of him to slide inside. He’s so thick that the edges of your little hole sting and burn around him, but it only adds to how good he feels inside of you.

You’re brainless before he gets even halfway. He shifts you forward, your feet leaving the ground so you’re laying, bent over, completely at his mercy. Anselm lifts you up enough to slide one of his hands under your sweater and palm your breast. His other hand hooks over your face, two of his fingers sliding into your mouth, cradling against the inside of your cheek to better pull you against him. But gently, everything strangely gentle.

“You are a big girl and can tell me if you have had enough, yes?” He whispers into your ear. “You need only ask me to stop. I will give you the cookie that imbecile left here in my office and you can be on your way.”

You swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth. “Don’t stop,” you say around Anselm’s fingers. 

He kisses your cheek and rolls his hips forward, giving you the rest of him and knocking every single molecule of air out of your lungs. In fact, you were pretty sure his dick was up there somewhere resting against your sternum. The wooden dildo in your ass ensures that your entire body feels snug and tight around him. So full and so good.

You hold tight onto the edges of Anselm’s desk, trying to push back for more, or at least hold still enough to encourage him to fuck you harder. And then he withdraws slightly, and more, and back in and good lord, feeling this much pleasure was going to do permanent brain damage.

Drool drips out of you where his fingers are inside of your mouth. It drips down your chin and onto his desk. Your eyes are rolled back in your head and you are grunting like an animal as he starts pounding into you, praising how soft and tight you are, how the sound of your wet hole is a symphony he’s going to record and play as he sleeps at night, how he wants to hear your moans in every room of the mansion, how he wants to eat his meals from the space between your breasts, how he wants to put a candle in your asshole and light it because it’s his birthday soon, and to tell him what you would want for your birthday next year. He hoped it was More.Of.This. His words punctuated by his sharp thrusts.

And you think you agree to everything because your cunt is squeezing around him like his dick is pure electricity, overstimulating your nerves and spasming your entire body. You can’t even speak, but you do love hearing how filthy he’s going to make you be for him.

God, is that wet sound echoing through the room you? It is. And Anselm is right. You want to record it and hear it too. So you can come in your sleep to dreams of him fucking his enormous cock into you just like this.

Anselm slows his hips, pushing up your sweater to below your breasts. He lays a hand gently on your lower back. You turn your head to look at him. He has a look on his face you’ve never seen. It isn’t tolerance or fondness, or his usual huffy impatience, or even the look of appreciation he has for your witty quips or when you wear a particular outfit he likes. Anselm is looking at you softly, with love.

“Please, let me finish on your beautiful skin,” he asks, beard moving in a way that tells you his lips are trembling slightly.

You almost come again as he pulls out, your walls sucking on the head of his cock like your body doesn’t want him to ever leave. He rests himself along your lower back.

Anselm starts to work the dildo in and out of your asshole as you feel him use his hand to pull himself toward orgasm. He works the dildo faster and you come again, clenching around the ridges carved into the wood, cunt squeezing tightly on nothing but your own skin and wetness. Anselm groans loudly and you feel him coming messily all over you before letting a pool of his cum gather in the dip of your lower back.

He runs his hand over your hair, taking in a deep breath as you blink and try to get your eyes to focus again. 

Anselm reaches over toward the stack of money still on his desk and takes the cookie off the top. You hear him take a bite of it and chew. You rest your head, not sure if you’ll have the energy to move your body ever again.

A scratching sensation drags through the cum on your back. Anselm clears his throat and leans forward to present you with the other half of the chocolate chip cookie, slightly shiny around the edges. You lean forward and he feeds it to you, wiping the outer corner of your mouth with his thumb.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted in your entire life.

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Leave It On- a continuation of My Dear Birdie

all three boys and using reader (once again not a kink, more of a personal indulgence)

"You took them so well," Steven murmurs sweetly against the crown of your hair. "You were divine. Aren't you glad we started with Jake? He broke you in so well, didn't he?"

The sounds you make back are unintelligible. Your pussy aches in the best way, swollen and sensitive, filled with Jake's load and then Marc's after him. It is a sticky mess between your thighs--and you love it. You love it so fucking much.

"Are you anxious, darling?" Steven coos at the whine and flinch you give when his fingers press gently at your swollen nerves. He slips two fingers into your folds, smearing wetness across your entire vulva. "What for? They saved me for last, just so I could be gentle with you, didn't they? They know I couldn't ever be rough with you."

He takes your chin, turns your head so that you can just see him where he is plastered against your back, hard cock nudging at your ass. His dark eyes take in the fucked-out expression on your face and he smiles.

"So you're going to have to ask me for it. You know that, don't you love? Go on. Ask me to be rough with you."

Your mouth opens, nothing but a desperate groan slipping out. He rolls you onto your belly, straddling the back of your thighs, hands broad and strong as he needs your ass and spreads you open. Steven clicks his tongue.

"Close enough for me."

Just One More

Pairing: Basil Stitt x F!reader

Summary: You're going away on a work trip and Basil tries to get his fill of you before you go. But it seems like he just can't get enough.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, stalker type behavior, obsessive/perverted behavior and thoughts, free-use, consensual somnophilia, mention of male masturbation & voyeurism, thigh-fucking, unprotected p in v, degradation, dirty talk, teasing, spitting, spit play(kind of), hair pulling, choking, overstimulation, cum feeding, filming(general consent to do so in their relationship but no explicit consent given beforehand), cockwarming

WC: 3.2k

A/N: Was originally going to be a Steven fic but I think this level of depravity and obsession is so much more fitting with Basil. He's such a pathetic mess and I love it.

Your dynamic with Basil is simple. You very quickly learned how he is. His wants. His needs. So you were more than happy to give him free reign to be as perverted and devious as he’d like. Before you waltzed into his life, he had already felt like he knew you intimately. He didn’t stalk you, per say, but he had become a bit obsessed with the brief glimpses he got of you as you lived in the building across the alley from his.

He'll never forget the first time he saw you. You appeared in your window one night, the glow of your bedroom light wrapping around your body, forming a beautiful silhouette. You looked ethereal, he thought. Like an angel. You didn’t have curtains, but if you did, he would've broken into your apartment and torn them down himself.

 He never had the courage to ask you if it was intentional, but he likes to think you knew exactly what you were doing. Putting on a show for him every time you were in your bedroom, walking around fully exposed. Often times you were fresh out of the shower, water dripping down your naked form.

It had become a ritual. You would come into view and his hand would immediately slip down his pants. And in less time than he'd like to admit, he was cumming over his hand, tears forming in his eyes as he was desperate for it to be spilling over you instead.

Not much had changed since you got together. Now you just happened to share a living space, so it was a lot more convenient. He touches himself at the thought of you constantly, which usually involves him either digging through your drawers or dirty laundry to use a pair of your panties or any article of clothing that holds your scent.  Or he uses some of the picture and videos he has of you.

You had shared your collection with him. You had countless videos of you and him messing around but what he found himself using most often were the photos you would send to tease him, turning him into a pleading, desperate mess, just begging to touch you. Like the ones you would send of yourself with your skirt pulled up and tits out in the mirror at work, when he would text you and beg you to give him something, anything, as he sat at home counting down the minutes until you got back.

He particularly loved the ones that he took himself, usually of you when you're in bed and he’s standing over you getting off to your sleeping form. You two had a full free use arrangement, which he takes advantage of whenever he can. Having full access to you was a little overwhelming at first, seeing as he was used to viewing you from afar and practicing all the self-restraint he had knowing he couldn’t have you. Now he can have you whenever he wants but he still feels the need to do what he used to do; sneak around and feel a sense of shame at the dirty thoughts he has of you. He still experiences that same shame, except now he, and you, get off on it. 

You had come up with a code, though, a little red hair tie that you can slip on your wrist to tell him that he shouldn’t disturb you, if need be. You usually only use it if you're not feeling particularly well that day or if you have a long day of work ahead of you and really need the sleep. Tonight would be one of those nights, but you decide to take pity on him. You’re leaving for a week-long work trip in the morning and it would be nice to get some sleep. You struggle to sleep when you’re away from home and your partner so you want to just enjoy a nice night of slumber in his warm arms. But you know he wants to get as much out of you as he can to try and tide himself over until you get back.

Basil lays behind you now, staring at your bare wrist in the sliver of moonlight cast over you as you sleep. That's not what he expected. He momentarily thinks maybe you just forgot to slip it on. But he knows you. You’re very generous, always giving him what he needs. Not to mention your sex drive pretty much matches his, so you can usually keep up with how needy and desperate he can be.

But sometimes he gets in a mood where he’s insatiable. And today was just one of those days. He’s going to miss you terribly and he’s trying not to think about the next seven days he’s going to spend moping around until you get back. He struggles to be alone, and like you, he can’t get a good night's sleep without you there, his thoughts filled with nothing but you until you return.

 You had really given him your all today, though, moving around the house to fuck him on every surface you could think of. You ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway leading to your room and you rode him until he saw stars. You had eventually worn yourself out and after your last round you told him it was time to shower and turn in for the night, but he still had that hungry look in his eyes. So, you decided to forgo the little red band. You were so exhausted you weren't sure you'd even wake up.

Now sleeping soundly next to him, he looks down at your body. He had wished so badly that you two could fuck each other to sleep, nice and slow until you both slip into unconsciousness while he's still buried inside you. But you were out like a light the second your head hit the pillow.

He’s behind you, hard cock resting against your bare ass. He shed his clothes, needing to feel himself directly against your skin. He decides to use your thighs to get off, knowing you'd be the least likely to wake up this way. He really wants you to get some sleep but something he never takes into consideration is his severe lack of control.

He rubs some spit on himself, and pushes his dick between your plush thighs. He immediately coils his body around yours, and you shift against him. He stills, worried he woke you. You nestle deeper into his hold, but your breathing is still slow and even, indicating you're still asleep. He gradually slides closer and closer to your center, until his length is wrapped in your folds. The slick he can feel starting to form makes him shudder and he starts thrusting faster.

He catches on your entrance and you sigh quietly, but he notices your eyes are still closed. The brief contact with your hole reminds him of just how good it feels to slip inside and he realizes he’s not as strong willed as he had thought. He needs to be inside you. He hikes your leg up and rubs himself against your clit and your breath hitches. He continues this motion and eventually your eyes start to flutter open. Before you can look back to see what’s happening, he pushes into you. You both groan and he attempts to steady his breathing, trying not to cum yet.

“Just couldn’t control yourself, could you? Fucking me all day wasn't enough? So fucking needy.” you mumble. He whines pathetically into your shoulder, the shame painting his cheeks red. The look on his spurs you on. He's already a mess, clearly desperate to cum.

“You can’t help it though, can you? Go on baby, take what you need.” you coo. He sighs in relief and starts rocking into you, slow at first but when you grab him by the curls and crash his lips into yours, he speeds up, thrusts already sloppy. His breathing gets faster and faster and you realize how close he is.

You pull away. “You’re going to cum already? This is the last time you’re going to be inside me for a while, not even going to try and make it last? Pathetic.” you tease. He groans, silently cursing himself for being so weak, but he can’t help it. Your warm walls hug him so tight; you always bring him to the edge so quickly. He huffs in determination and shakes his head.

“ N-no.” he stutters, trying to think about anything else other than how you feel wrapped around him, how the closeness of your body flusters him. He begins his movements again, slow, trying to stave off his impending release. “Faster for me baby, c’mon” you grab his ass, pulling him into you deeper, trying to build to your own release. You quickly realize that he won't make it long enough for you to get off.

That's okay, you're plenty satisfied from earlier and the thought of him using you for his own pleasure has fresh slick forming between your legs, making him glide into you even faster. He pulls out, denying himself his release yet again and rolls you over. He lays on top of you and rests his head onto your chest, trying to catch his breath. “What’s wrong, I thought you wanted to cum? You were desperate enough to start using me while I was sleeping.” another whimper escapes his lips

“Not yet” he mutters, then moves his head to latch onto your left nipple and begins sucking hard. You arch your back, moaning at the sensation. You know what he’s doing. As much as your breasts turn him on, they have a way of soothing him even more. It comforts him to mash his face into your chest, enjoying your warmth and your scent. When he’s calmed down enough, he slides back into you, making you gasp. He wraps his arms around you and begins rutting into you.

He realizes he can't hold an any longer and he decides he's ready to let go. He starts giving deep, sporadic thrusts and shutters at the drag of your silky, wet walls. You pull his face from your chest and wrap your hand around his throat. His thrusts are short and uneven, but that in combination with the pressure on his throat has his eyes rolling back and he's practically drooling.

You're desperate to see him cum and you start to tease him, knowing that drives him crazy and deeper into fucked out bliss. "Do you touch me in my sleep often? I know you sneak off into the bathroom to use my panties if it's taking me too long to doze off, but what do you do to me when I'm sound asleep?"

All he can do is mewl. He can't form a single thought apart from how good you feel. "Do you use my hands? My thighs? Tits? I know you use my mouth. I can always taste you on my tongue the morning after." He pushes his neck deeper into your grasp and lets out a choked-out moan. He has now completely stopped moving and is now getting off on your words alone.

"Touching me in my sleep, stealing my panties, spying on me in the shower." His half-lidded eyes fly wide open. He thought he was being discreet about that. Usually, he'll just slip in and ask to join you but sometimes he gets the urge to just stand in the hallway and watch you through the crack in the door.

"Oh, thought I didn't notice that? I can hear you whining while you fist your cock. Such a perv." Tears well in his eyes at the humiliation, but you know he gets off on it. You're not sure if he realizes it but you know part of him does these things hoping to be caught. Get you to call him a dirty boy, tell him how perverted he is. Luckily, you're just as depraved. You're basically living under the same roof as your stalker and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I can't h-help it." He mumbles. "I want you all the time." His confession makes you smile and you pull his lips to yours. He purrs, enjoying the sweet taste of you, and licks into your mouth sloppily. He's making it messy intentionally and you know exactly what he wants. You chuckle softly at the desperation and pull away, strings of spit still connecting your lips. You tighten your hand around his throat and use your other hand to give a sharp tug to his hair, and he gasps. With his mouth agape, you spit right onto his tongue.

He lets out a satisfied groan and you do it again, this time getting it on his face as well. He immediately wipes it off and shoves his fingers in his mouth, not wanting to waste one drop. He then pushes his fingers in your mouth, swiping the spit right off your tongue. You gag a little as his fingers slip farther down your throat, trying to get as much as he can. He loves that sound so he does it a few more times, then pulls his digits back into his mouth and begins sucking on them frantically. He hums at the taste.

"You're disgusting." you sigh, watching his movements. Despite your remark, you love the way he's licking and slurping up every last drop. Your comment has him twitching inside you. As much as you would like to make him cum just by cockwarming him while your filthy words drive him over the edge, something you have done many times before, you want to give him something you know will put him out of commission for the rest of the night.

 ou push him off, and out, of you which pulls a dramatic whine from the man who was enjoying your warmth. You push him onto his back and straddle his hips. He whimpers, readying himself to feel you slide down onto his cock.  This is usually how you end things. He comes the fastest in this position so it's become your go to 'finishing move'. You want to give him one last ride that will hopefully satiate him.

Sliding yourself over his length a few times, coating him in your slick, you guide him to your entrance and sheath his cock inside you in one swift motion. You grab his throat immediately and he lets out the most pathetic sound. You can tell he's already fucked out and you have to stop yourself from laughing. It's honestly adorable how quickly he falls apart like this.

“Yeah? You like that, princess" you tease, in that sultry tone that goes straight to his dick. This pushes him right over the edge and before you can even start grinding on him, his back is arching off the mattress and he grabs your hips with a bruising grip as he spills deep into you. He thrashes his head back and forth on the pillow and he's sucking in short, shallow breaths. Once he's you've pulled every last drop from him, he attempts to open his eyes, not yet fully aware of his surroundings.

There is one thing he can see and feel as the aftershocks rip through him, and that's you. So, he pulls you down to his chest, and you bury your face in his neck. You start planting kisses up his neck and across his jaw whispering sweet praises to him. You then cradle his face, and rub your thumbs back and forth across his cheeks, in attempt to help bring him down from his high. You rest your forehead against his, trying to get him to match his breathing to yours and that seems to work.

You eventually move down his body to clean him off with your tongue. He yanks at your hair but he goes back and forth between pulling you closer and trying to push you off. Next you have to take care of yourself, not wanting to drip his cum all over the skin you just licked clean. Usually, he’d enthusiastically clean his spend out of you with his tongue, but he’s still recovering so you scoop it out with your fingers and feed it to him. He happily accepts and he lazily licks at your fingers while you stroke his hair.

You eventually cuddle up next to him and he moves behind you again, placing you back into his arms. "I hope that was enough. If you start to miss me just imagine me on top of you like that again. I want you like that when I get back. I'll ride you just like I did tonight, but I'm not stopping until I'm satisfied." you smirk and you turn your head over your shoulder to look up at him.

He gives you a bashful, almost guilty look as he points to the nightstand and says, "I won't need to imagine." You follow his finger and your eyes land on the phone propped up, pointed directly at the both of you. Your eyes widen a little. You've given him permission to film you whenever, wherever, but you're almost always privy to it, acting oblivious but knowing exactly what he's up to. A smile tugs at your lips and a warmth spread across your skin as you wonder how many more videos he has of you when you had been none the wiser.

You turn back to him, and say, "Creep" , but follow quickly with, "Send that to me." and he chuckles softly and nods. As you turn away, he pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck. It doesn't take long for you to start to fall asleep, warmed by his body and lulled by the rise and fall of his chest as you feel it move against you. Before you can drift off completely, you feel him shift, followed by his semi-hard cock stretching you once more. You can't believe it. You're a little impressed that he's even able to get aroused at all after the long day AND night that you had spent together. But, as much as you love him there's no way you can go again.

After a small gasp at the intrusion, you slide your hand into his hair and yank, commanding, "No. No more."

He hisses at the harsh tug, but assures you, "I just want to fall asleep inside you. Nothing more. I promise." You sigh. "Please?" he begs, and you can't help but give in. He's lucky you love the full feeling of having him inside you. In a weird way, it's actually comforting.

"Fine." You let go of his hair and he pulls you closer, now fully seated inside you. He sighs dreamily at the feeling.

You add, "But I'm serious, no more. Don't make me tie you down to the bed just so I can get some sleep.", only half joking. If this is how he's acting just at the thought of you leaving you can't imagine the desperate mess he'll be when you return. You can't wait.

my ex’s tapes

summary: you and basil broke up, and now, you're seeing some other guy. but basil just can't get over you. and you know it.

pairing: ex!basil stitt x reader, fwb!jake lockley x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: dub-con, smut, creep!basil, voyeurism, stalking tendencies, piv sex, virtual!cucking, m!masturbation, no aftercare, angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: this fic was originally for someone else, but basil just fit the vibes so much more!! and yeah, the poll ran for less than 10 hours BUT 🤷🏻‍♀️ im impatient. y'all know me, i can't hold on to a finished draft for more than a day -- so this is this, take it or leave it.

masterlist

----

He sighs as he opens up his laptop.

It’s depressing, he’s depressing -- disgusting.

A hot veil of shame washes over him as the monitoring app automatically opens for him as he logs in. A reminder of his dirty habits. And yet, for some reason, it makes it that much hotter.

The screen brightens as the program displays the soft pinkness of your bedroom. A small smile quirks at his lips as he spots you laying prettily in your mini nightgown, sprawled out on your bed, as you idly text someone on your phone. 

A quick ping makes Basil switch programs and scan over your conversation.

Jake: be there in 5

You: ok! text me when you arrive :)

It’s like clockwork.

Every Friday he comes over, fucks you into the mattress then leaves before he can fall asleep next to you.

What a piece of shit, leaving someone like you alone at night. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him. Someone that will cuddle you to sleep and wake you up with a cup of coffee, or kiss every inch of your body while telling you how perfect you are.

And for a moment you did have him–but then your friends went and fucked everything up.  

Despite all the shit he did for you, you weren’t satisfied, or rather, your friends weren’t satisfied. Apparently, his idea of protection and security was overbearing and controlling. And he was being clingy because he wanted to spend time with you. They’ve been filling your mind with bullshit ever since you introduced him to them. 

Basil easily concluded that you were pressured into breaking up with him. That you aren’t really done with him–you’re just waiting for the right time to get back together. That’s his excuse as to why his cameras and safety initiatives are still in place. Because you’re still his.

A feminine giggle pulls Basil from his thoughts and back to what he was doing. He alt-tabs back to the security cameras, eyes immediately darkening at the image of you clinging onto Jake’s shoulders as he effortlessly carries you into the room.

An ugly weight pulls at his stomach when he sees you happily draped around another man. That should be him coming home to you, carrying you to your bedroom to show you his love. 

You’re plopped onto your bed with a squeak, bouncing slightly before pushing yourself up to eagerly crawl over to your hook-up. As you straddle yourself over Jake, he immediately starts to work his mouth over your topless chest. 

Basil’s hand brushes over his twitching bulge as your back arches prettily to push yourself further against Jake's lips. Encouraging gasps and sighs fill the room as he nips at your sensitive buds. Your breath quickens as a hand drags up your body to fist at your throat. He sucks harshly at your skin, leaving a pattern of faint bruises and teeth marks along your soft skin.

Your nearly naked figure moves lithely over his clothed body, already getting off on anything you can get your hands on. Basil watches hungrily as your hips roll fluidly over Jake’s lap, cunt barely covered by a flimsy pair of underwear. He pushes against his erection when he sees your blissed-out expression, imagining it’s him that’s making you this desperate. 

With a quick motion, Jake pushes you away to unbutton his pants, making sure to only push them down enough to free himself. You suck on your lip as you watch a bead of precum roll over the silken skin of his cock. You wish you could have a taste but that’s not how Jake likes it. 

Jake tilts his head as he considers you on his lap, cockily taking in the way your hungry eyes drink him in. With a light tap on your thigh, he commands you to move, “Get into position, sweetheart.” 

You climb off of him and settle yourself at the top of the bed, swiftly getting on all fours to present yourself to him. His hand grazes over your ass, clutching the softness before dipping into the heat of your center.

The soft fabric of your underwear is shoved to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to the room. Basil audibly groans as he catches a glimpse of your dripping hole, remembering how hot and tight you are. Your body is built perfectly to wrap around him. 

Jake lazily slides himself along the seam of your cunt, humming lightly as he soaks himself in your slick. “Look at this weepy pussy…”  You let out a breath as you relax your body against him, enjoying the gentle way he rocks over you. “You’re so messy for me.” Your body buzzes as his cock nudges against your clit with every stroke, fogging your mind with intoxicating pleasure. 

You don’t expect it when Jake’s hips abruptly snap up into you with one smooth motion, quickly filling you to the brim with a stinging stretch. The rough texture of his jeans chafes against the back of your thighs as his legs push harshly over you. You whine as your face is shoved into a pillow, barely allowing you a second of fresh air. 

Basil grips himself over his sweatpants as he watches your body struggle to get used to the sensation of being filled, legs shaking as you attempt to hold yourself up for him.

Jake easily ignores your trembling and immediately starts to pound into you, strategically angling himself to continuously prod against the electrifying spot inside of you. Despite the sharp sobs dripping from your lips, he knows you love it. Being treated like this. Like a toy. 

Basil strokes himself as he watches your greedy cunt swallow another man's cock, effortlessly moving back and forth with each thrust. He can feel his cock desperately throb for you as the filthy sound of your slick sopping down your thighs travels through the camera’s microphone. What he would do to taste you right now, the zingy flavor of your lust on his tongue.

Though he can’t see your face, he can tell you’re already close. It’s the way your body stiffens ever so slightly like you’re holding yourself back from reaching nirvana. He hates how your moans are muffled by the pink pillow. He craves to hear how your noises crescendo as you near the edge, how you crumble as pleasure takes over your body.

You almost feel like you might collapse from the aggressive way Jake drives into you. Jake’s calloused fingers grip bruises into your hips as he pushes and pulls you onto him, setting an unbeatable rhythm that you can barely keep up with.

Jake’s motions briefly stutter as your cunt grips around him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, barely able to process his words as he continues to fuck into you. “Mm…Your cunt flutters so–fuck–sweetly around me. You gonna cum baby?” Your legs threaten to give in as molten heat rapidly blooms in your stomach, pulling you toward your peak. 

You cry out as he begins to drive himself impossibly deeper into you, slowing down when you fail to answer him. His chest vibrates against your back as he growls behind your ear, “Too stupid to speak? I asked you a question, honey.” 

With another nudge of his hips, you sputter out a response. “A-ah, yes—I’m so close, sir.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Basil’s sweats are messily shoved halfway down his thighs as he watches your tired body move bonelessly along with each movement of Jake’s hips. The stroke of his hand moves in sync with yours, cock leaking as he grips himself tightly to conceptualize the feeling of being inside of you. 

The rawness of your climax causes your body to writhe underneath Jake and you involuntarily start pulling away from his cock as your cunt convulses with ecstasy. 

Basil’s eyes squeeze shut as he’s coaxed into his release by your soft muffled whimpers. His hand works quickly along the length of himself as he rides it out, effectively spreading his mess with his hand and on the tops of his thighs.

Jake groans as you ​​suck him in, hands shoving you further into the mattress as you’re unable to control the way your body flutters and jerks around him. With one last push, he spills into you, coating your walls in warmth before pulling out.

Basil watches as Jake steps out of the room after murmuring something about a towel, leaving you there panting in the middle of your bed.

Alone.

You slowly turn over to your back, pushing your hair out of your face as you come down from your orgasm, face thoroughly flushed from exertion. His heavy eyes admire you from afar, wishing he could join you on the bed and hold you against him. 

He takes one last glance at you before reluctantly closing the laptop. 

----

You reach upwards with your arms pulled taut and stretch your body until you feel light-headed. Though you enjoy being fucked from behind, your back is always left sore from arching so deeply. Jake is fine. Good even. But that’s it. 

You’ve tried your hardest to ignore it, but something’s been missing from your life. Or someone.

Your eyelashes shadow over your gaze as you subtly glance at the stuffed kitten on your shelf. Your heart flutters when you notice the faint red light on its collar blinking right back at you. 

He’s still there.

Taking Control

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader, Marc Spector x f!reader

Summary: Steven's jealousy over your coworker prompts him to step in and explore his dominant side.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, no use of y/n, toxic/ jealous behavior and brief argument (mostly from the boys but reader gets kinda petty too), inaccurate depiction of DID, dominant/ possessive Steven, teasing/ taunting, dirty talk, begging, spanking, fingering, edging, oral (m receiving), rough sex, p in v, creampie

 WC: 4.8k

A/N: two jealousy fics in a row…sorry not sorry. Also, I know Marc is acting like an irrational ass in the beginning and sorry if you don't like seeing that type of toxic behavior, but he's being over the top/overly dramatic on purpose so hopefully it doesn’t rub you the wrong way. Plus reader says some pretty petty things in response lol

You had a long day ahead of you. In addition to the normal workday, you were asked to take your new coworker, Scott, to dinner just to welcome him and give a run-down of the project your department is currently working on. You meant to text the boys and let them know you didn't need a ride, but you had rushed out of the house this morning and left your phone behind. Luckily, you always leave a note on the fridge telling them not to pick you up whenever you forget to let them know the night before. They know to check there before leaving, so you assumed they'd see it.

You realized it might have been a foolish assumption to make when Scott stopped by the office before taking you home so he could grab some files he left behind. When you arrive, the familiar black sedan sitting alone in the parking lot has your heart dropping to your stomach. You’re pretty sure that they’re here due to miscommunication, but you haven’t had your phone on you all day so you begin to worry that something may have happened, and they couldn’t get a hold of you.

Your coworker must sense your concern since he asks, “What’s wrong?” and looks at you confused.

“Um…nothing.” you reply, unbuckling your seatbelt and slowly making your way out of the car. Scott rounds the front, and your boyfriend climbs out of his car, slamming the door behind him. You can tell your coworker is a bit taken back by the mysterious man in front of him, so you speak up.

“Scott, this is my boyfriend…” you intentionally pause to allow whoever is fronting to introduce themselves. You're almost positive it's Marc based on the deep scowl on their face.

“Marc,” he says while crossing his arms.

"Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Scott.” Scott sticks out his hand as he introduces himself, but Marc doesn’t even look at him. You give him an apologetic look for your boyfriend's gruffness.

 "Babe, what are you doing here?" you inquire, still worried something's wrong.

“Picking you up,” he responds bluntly.

"Oh. Sorry I didn’t text you; I forgot my phone. But I told Natalie to let you where I was if you stopped by looking for me," you reply coolly, relieved that everything is ok, but you sense the irritation in his voice.

“She told me where you were,” he says bitterly, and he turns his head to glare at the man next to you. This is the first time he has acknowledged Scott, and you honestly wish he would’ve just kept ignoring him. Marc is usually a bit standoffish when it comes to meeting new people, but he’s never outright rude, so you’re a bit taken back at his demeanor.

“Have you been here all this time?” you ask incredulously. You’d been gone almost two hours, meaning that he had all that time to stew in his anger, which is clearly about to boil over.

“Yeah, so let’s go,” he impatiently answers.

You turn to Scott. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I hope I covered everything. If you have any questions let me know."

“I will. I was thinking we could exchange numbers, you know, in case I- “, before Scott can finish speaking, Marc is pulling you towards the car.

“Thanks for dinner!” you shout to him as Marc opens your door and guides you into your seat hurriedly. Scott gives you a puzzled look at the abrupt goodbye and you flash him yet another apologetic look. Hopefully he'd forget about this whole thing come Monday.

Marc is pulling out of the parking lot before you can even buckle your seat belt, and you turn to him, looking displeased.

“You really embarrassed me back there,” you say and Marc scoffs.

“Yeah, well how do you think I felt?” he snaps.

“What? You were the one acting like a jerk. You knew where I was. I told Natalie to tell you what was going on.” He doesn’t respond and you feel a wave of frustration wash over you as you realize something.

 You fully turn to him, arms crossed, and head cocked to one side. "I also left a note on the fridge. Did you remember to check there?” you ask, brow raised. He doesn’t answer, but judging by the look on his face, you can tell he didn’t. Now it’s your turn to scoff.

“How many times do I have to remind you to check there before you leave?” You shake your head. This isn't the first time he's shown up when he didn't need to. You remind him constantly to check, but it doesn't seem to make a difference.

“You know, maybe I'll start leaving my own notes. I'll be sure to let you know whenever I'm going out on a date with another woman," he snidely remarks.

You let out a dry laugh. You just can’t believe how ridiculous he’s being. He's acted jealous before, but it's usually just an excuse for him to get you into bed, show you you're 'his'. But this time it seems genuine.

“It wasn’t a date! He’s a new hire and I was asked to welcome him to the office. It was purely professional. You have no reason to be upset,” you respond.

"I saw the way he was looking at you, like he was planning on having you for dessert. I bet he was acting like that all night. That prick has no shame," Marc grumbles, but you just shake your head. "You're imagining things," you respond annoyedly, and he huffs.

You spend the rest of the ride in silence as you mentally prepare yourself for a night of sitting on opposite sides of the couch waiting to see who apologizes first. But by the time you pull into the apartment, your irritation has started to dwindle, and you realize you're really not in the mood to fight, so you decide to set the issue aside for now and revisit it when he's calmed down a bit.

You step through the door, set your stuff down, and turn to him. "I know you're upset, but why don’t we just talk about this later? Let's have a nice, quiet night snuggled up on the couch. How's that sound?" you suggest, then pull him to you and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

He hums against your mouth, then pulls away. Leaning his forehead against yours, he mumbles, “I don’t know, maybe I should go spend a few hours with some random woman you don't know, since that’s apparently how this relationship works now.” You scoff and shove him away.

“Just let it go! You know what? Maybe I should’ve gone home with Scott. It'd be nice to be around someone who knows how to act like an adult. I bet he at least has the awareness to see when he's wrong and get on his knees to apologize.” You know it's a bad idea to mention Scott's name again, and an even stupider idea to mention going home with him, but you’re so frustrated you don’t care how Marc might react. If he's going to be petty, so are you.

You turn around to head to the living room, wanting to give him a second to calm down, maybe come to the realization that he’s being ridiculous. To think he would let your little comment slide was stupid of you, and you realize that when you feel him whip you around and press you up against the wall. You know you shouldn't keep egging him on, but you really want to mess with him to get back at him for how he's been acting. So, against your better judgement, you continue.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," you say softly and pull him closer, eyes now boring into each other's.

"I wouldn't go home with him. Why go to the trouble? What I should’ve done was pulled him into the bathroom, spread my legs for him and given him a nice warm welcome to the team,” you say, tauntingly.

You see his eye twitch slightly and he takes a deep breath, probably trying to keep his cool. By now you'd have expected to see that playful smirk on his face that means he's about to take you to the bedroom and shut you up, but he just continues to stare at you. Your goal isn't to genuinely upset him, so to avoid provoking him any further, you wipe the smirk off your face and look at him with wide eyes and small pout on your lips instead. 

“I want Steven,” you whine. Since it doesn't seem like Marc's going to let this go anytime soon, you're ready for Steven to come out. Ready for him to tell you he agrees that Marc is being ridiculous and apologize on his behalf, by way of shoving his face between your thighs, preferably.

He's never able to resist, especially when you ask for him like that, so you stare up expecting to see those soft eyes and that warm smile appear. Marc doesn’t waiver, though, and you think maybe he's blocking Steven out, determined to remain in control.

Marc cocks his head and asks, “You want Steven? Yeah?”, in mocking tone. 

“Why? So he can come out and spoil you? Let you keep acting like a brat?” That’s exactly what you want, and he knows it, so you can’t help the small smirk that reappears on your face.

“I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into. Why do you think he’s stayed silent this whole time?” You raised a confused brow, and now he’s the one wearing a smirk.

"You really want Steven?" he asks, and you nod your head at him slowly.

  "Fine. But you’re going to regret it.” And with that, his eyes close then reopen and his smirk is replaced with a fierce glower, a look so unlike Steven, you think it may still be Marc. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you also feel your insides clench. You don't know if you should be startled or turned on, so you choose both.

 “Steven?” you barely squeak out.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asks, derisively. His hand comes up and grips the back of your neck and he pulls you close. Your breath hitches at the closeness of your lips.

“What? Did you expect me to come out and beg for forgiveness for Marc and then get on my knees for you like a good boy? Let you walk all over me like I usually do?" he snaps.

 While you're definitely the more dominant one when it comes to the two of you, there have been a few occasions he has tried to take control. But he's never gotten very far because Marc always steps in and takes over. You’re momentarily worried Steven holds some resentment for the dynamic you two have, but the way he’s licking his lips as he stares at yours, or rather the hardness you feel against your leg, makes you realize he's just finally ready to unleash this other side of him.

Now that you understand what he wants to do, you feel the ache between your thighs intensifying. Wanting to see what he has in store for you, you decide to test what will happen if you try pushing his buttons like you were doing with Marc only moments ago.

“Of course. That’s what your best at, isn't it? You think you can teach me a lesson like Marc?" scoff. "You don’t have it in you,” As you taunt him you wear a smug look on your face that he's very tempted to fuck off of you.

His eyes darken, then he looks off to the side, and there's no doubt Marc is talking to him; you assume either urging him to take action or demanding to step in and do it himself. You attempt to bring his attention back to you.

“It takes a real man to put me in my place. Like Marc. Or Scott.” And with that he’s pulling you from the wall and pushing you to the room.

He tosses you face first into the mattress and grips the top of your pants. Before he goes any further, though, he’s brushing the hair away from your face and you crane your neck further to look at him. His voice softens and he asks, “This is ok, right? If not, I'll stop, so please tell me.”

You give him a small smile and push your ass back, grinding it against him. “I want it so bad, Steven. Give it to me, hard. Please.”

He sighs, relieved to know he didn’t misinterpret the situation. Also, hearing you plead like that, a tone usually reserved for Marc, sends a rush through him. And then just like that, the gentleness is gone and he’s pulling your pants down and off of you, then tossing them across the room. He settles his hand on the small of your back and leans down to admire the wet patch left behind on your underwear.

He smirks, “This all for me? I do this to you?”

You’re about to give him a desperate, ‘yes’, but before you can, he pulls the fabric up taught, and it wedges deliciously between your folds. You gasp in surprise but follow it with a moan.

“Or is it from Scott?” he says and pulls your underwear side to side, and it swipes over your clit each time. You squirm against the mattress, loving the feeling. You don’t answer him, so he tugs upward on your underwear and, at the same time, lands a quick but firm slap against your ass. You squeal. You continue to ignore his questions in hopes that he’ll do it again. 

This time he gives you a harder slap, and does it again and again until, through gritted teeth, you moan out, “No, for you. All for you.”

He hums in acknowledgment then roams your sensitive skin with his fingers and gives your plush cheek a firm squeeze. You whine at the delicious burn.

Deciding to give your ass a break, he tears your underwear off and flips you over. After ridding you of the rest of your clothes as well, he spreads your legs and settles himself between them. He examines you and then runs his fingers through your folds, gathering the slick forming at your entrance.

“You really get off on this don’t you? Look at you, you practically dripping just from a few spanks." You feel your skin heat at the comment, and you simply nod your head.

“Just a desperate little thing begging to be used,” he says and continues movements, toying with your entrance and intentionally avoiding your clit. The sensation and the filth flowing from his mouth makes you shudder. You’ve never heard him talk like this and you love it.

Getting a bit impatient with the slow, teasing motion of his fingers, you grumble, “C’mon, Steven,” and grab his wrist to move his hand to the bundle of nerves begging to be played with.

“You know I need more. Give it to me," you demand.

Caught up in the frustration of his teasing, you’ve reverted back to that commanding tone which typically has him happily falling into submission. But now, he's having none of it. He’s finally in control and he’s not letting go, not for you or for Marc. He lands a quick slap to your mound, and you gasp as it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. You want more, but before you can ask him to do it again, he squeezes your clit and begins rolling it between his fingers.

"Oh, god Steven!" you squeal and arch your back, prompting him to quicken his movements. The action alone has you on the edge, but before you can cum, he's pulling his hands away. You let out a long, dramatic, whine and open your mouth, ready to complain, but he covers it with his hand.

"No more whining. You'll take what I give you," he says and squeezes your thigh in a harsh grip.

" Thought I was going to let you cum already? Silly little thing, you'll cum when I decide. I'm not done playing with you yet," he says, and you can feel the fresh slick dripping from you in response to his condescending tone.

He removes his hand from your mouth and grabs at your chest while he brings his other hand to your entrance. He slips two fingers in, easily, and you sigh at the relief of finally having something inside you. The delicious sting of him tweaking your nipples combined with the drag of his fingers against your walls quickly brings you to the edge a second time, but all too quickly he's pulling both hands from you and denying you your release once again.

You let out what sounds like a sob and pound your hand against the mattress. You keep getting so close and he rips it away from you every time. The frustration has you on the brink of tears and your lip juts out in a pout. You're not used to this. Marc wasn't lying when he said Steven spoils you. He usually dotes on you and is always more than happy to give you exactly what you want, whenever you want it. He's ready and willing to submit to you and put your pleasure above all else. That's the treatment you're used to. Since you're not accustomed to him denying you pleasure, or anything for that matter, the irritation is written all over your face.

"You’re an asshole. Where’d you learn that from, Marc?” you ask, with more than a little sass in your voice.

Not thrilled with your tone, he undoes his belt and frees himself from his pants, then climbs up your body until his hips are angled towards your face. "I'm getting quite sick of your attitude, love. Let's put that mouth to good use, shall we?" he says as he strokes himself pushing into your mouth. The angle is a bit awkward but the sight of him has your mouth watering and you swirl your tongue around his tip as it breeches your lips.

His head falls back and he sighs. He lets you suck on him just like that for a few moments before he's guiding you further onto his length. He hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag from you, and he feels your throat contract around him. He groans at the feeling and does it again. His thrusts have your spit thoroughly coating his length and even dribbling down your chin. He bites his lip at the sight.

 "C'mon. Get it nice and wet. Yeah, just like that," he says huskily. He throws his head back again and his eyes fall shut. The feeling is heavenly and he has to pull out of your mouth, knowing if you keep sucking him like that, he'll cum down your throat.

He moves down your body, landing between your legs, and you wrap them around his hips. He goes to line himself up at your entrance and you buck your hips and pull him closer. As you feel his dick brush up against you, you let out a pathetic whine, almost delirious with the desire to feel him inside you. He chuckles at your desperation and can't help but tease you further by running his length through your folds.

"You want it? Yeah?" he teases, and slaps his tip against your clit repeatedly. You look at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and beg, "Don’t tease me.”

"What do you mean?" he asks mockingly as he continues sliding his dick against you. It keeps catching on your entrance over and over, but he still refuses to push it in.

"Why are you being so mean?" you ask, and your voice cracks. The sensation is getting overwhelming and you get the urge to reach down and push him in yourself, but you know he'd never give you what you're asking for if you did that, so you stop yourself.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked it. I've seen you writhe under Marc, begging for him to fuck you. That usually gets you what you want, right? So c'mon, beg for it," he demands, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look him right in the eyes.

You're quick to respond, wanting to do exactly as he asks, in hopes that he’ll finally take pity on you. “Please, Steven, I need it so bad. I'll do anything, just please fuck me. Please!"

He feels heat pool in his stomach from hearing you beg for him like that, and he can't hold back any longer. He grabs you firmly by the hips and pushes into you slowly. He groans as he watches his length disappear as you take him to the hilt. “See what you get when you ask nicely?” he says, breathily. Your jaw goes slack and your head falls back at the relief of finally being full of him.

After you've adjusted to his length, he throws your legs over his shoulders, pulls you closer, and leans over you, effectively folding you in half.  The new angle has him reaching so deep in you that you gasp, and it morphs into a broken sob when he begins slamming into you roughly.

He's satisfied at how you're falling apart around him, but he has to focus to keep himself from doing the same thing. The sweet noises you let out with every thrust and how he feels your walls clench around him has his breathing becoming increasingly ragged. He gets lost in the feeling and falters, and his movements slow down. He leans his forehead against yours as he gets lost in your warmth, and whines into your shoulder.

 The change in pace interrupts your previously rapid ascent towards your climax, and you whine right back. "Harder. Please," you beg and reach down and grab his hips, trying to urge him to go faster. He kisses your neck and continues the slow, deep, strokes. It feels good but you need more. You need it harder, faster, and begging is not working, so you opt for the alternative.

 "You're losing your edge, Steven. Maybe I should have Marc come out and do it for you," you threaten. Not appreciating the insinuation that he can't fuck you like Marc can, he snarls and flips you over. He slams back inside you and pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"Oh please. Please. Please…" is all you can say as he resumes hammering into you, and it has you rocketing towards your release again. You become a babbling, whimpering, mess underneath him as he sets a punishing pace, his dick hitting that tender spot inside you relentlessly.

"I need to…to cum Steven. Please. Please can I cum?" you plead, needing to feel the orgasm he's denied you over and over again.

"Considering all the things you said earlier, I'm not sure you deserve it," he replies, yet he wants nothing more than to feel you pulsating around him as you reach tumble over the edge. He's seen Marc deny you for hours so he's tempted to see how far he can push you. But he feels his own release building, so he'll have to try that some other time.

"I do. I've learned my lesson, I promise. I won't-" a particularly deep thrust pulls a throaty moan from you, and you try to remember what you were even saying, but it seems like he fucked the thought right out of your head. All you remember is that you were begging so you try again. “I…Please. I need it so bad. Please let me cum."

"Say you didn’t mean it," he says, followed by a low groan as he slides in and out of your drenched hole. The way you’re gripping him has his hips stuttering, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

"Wha…What?" you mumble, not really sure what he's asking.

"Say you'd never let a prick like Scott touch you. Tell me you'd never let him inside you," he commands.

You remain silent, willing yourself to compose a coherent thought. He wants you to look him in the eyes when you say it so he pulls out, puts you on your back, and slams himself back inside you in one quick motion. It has your head spinning and you can't do anything but moan and whimper as you feel him stretching you.

"Say it!" he demands harshly, and the tone has you clenching hard around him. He tilts your head by the back of your neck, forcing you to look him in the eyes, and grabs at your chest harshly with the other.

“I wouldn’t let Scott fuck me. Ever. I don’t want anyone else,” you pant.

" And why is that?" he prompts.

"Because I'm yours," you profess. "All yours. No one else can have me."

 "That's right." A small smirk forming on his face at your confession. “Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?”

“You,” you reply, breathily.

“Who?"

“You…” He keeps asking until you finally realize what he wants to hear.

 “You, Steven! Only you can fuck me like this!" you cry out, and in return he lets out a low moan as your words wash over him. It makes him fuck you deeper, so you continue.

"I’d let you do anything you want to me. Anything…anything…anything…” you repeat like a mantra as he continues snapping his hips into you.

His eyes briefly flutter shut as coil in his stomach tightens. He looks at you again and brings his thumb to your clit, forming small circles that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"You can cum. C'mon, cum for me," he commands and as the last word leaves his mouth, your orgasm hits you full force. Your body stiffens under him as you let out a silent scream and drag your nails down his back, feeling the shockwaves pleasure rip through you. He lets out a long groan at the sensation of you clenching down on his dick and your nails dragging across his skin. It pushes him over the edge and he lets out an animalistic grunt spills himself inside you. He's above you, panting, as he continues grinding into you until he's empty.

After a moment or two, he collapses on top of you. You two lay like that as you both steady your breathing and attempt to come down from such an intense high.

 As you run your fingers through his hair, you hear him mumble, “I still like being your plaything. You know that, right?" into your neck and you chuckle. “Just like wanted to see what it was like taking control," he adds as he lifts his head to meet your eyes. You pull his lips to yours and give him a quick, yet searing kiss.

 “Of course I do, baby," you respond, lovingly.

“I do have a request, though. Next time you want to try something new, can you make sure it doesn’t involve acting like an irrational jerk and scaring my coworkers?” The request is more so intended for Marc, seeing as he was the one intimidating Scott earlier, but Steven responds.

“Sorry about all that. I just wasn't thrilled about this Scott guy," he confesses. You raise an eyebrow at him, surprised because Steven has never been the jealous type. Now, normally he isn't, but something about seeing you climbing out of some guy's car, skin a bit flushed from whatever drinks you had at dinner, just didn’t sit right with him. Then, when he saw Scott's eyes glued to your ass as you stepped out of the car, something just came over him.

"Marc suggested I learn to let these feelings out in the bedroom like you two usually do and I guess that was his way of stepping in and helping me do that. I did warn him to tone it down, I promise, but you know Marc…" he says, looking at you apologetically.

“Don’t worry, I'll make him pay for it later," you say, smiling at the thought.

“We can make him pay for it now by going for round two. He’s been begging me to let him out. Says he's dying to get his hands on you.” He grins at the idea of you denying an already incredibly frustrated Marc what he wants.

"Tell him not a chance," you say as you roll both of you over and straddle Steven. He feels a thrill run through body as he already knows he'll be the begging, pleading, mess this time.

Sketched him a bit - Basil 🌿

Steven Grant random thought #2- what sex is like with the moon boys

--🔥 Content: nsfw, what sex is like with Marc Jake and Steven, language, dirty deeds, Steven Grant doesn't understand what hate fucking is (~700 words)--

Steven thinks it over, then looks at you. "Like, I'm not the most experienced guy, but I love what we've done of it so far."

You and Steven are sitting in his flat eating lunch. Your legs are over his lap as you eat smoked tofu sandwiches.

You shake your head. "That's not what 'hate fucking' means, love. It's not that you don't like it. It means that you fuck someone you hate and that's what makes it so good."

His face scrunches up a little. "Doesn't sound very nice."

You smile and try to think of a way to relate it to him. Usually, Steven is the one teaching you things. And even if it’s just this ridiculous concept, it’s nice to be able to teach him something.

You brush the crumbs off your hands. “Remember that time you were mad at me?”

“What? I wasn’t mad.” Steven insists.

“Okay, remember that time when I pushed you into annoyance?”

A smile lifts the corners of his mouth and he gets a slightly dreamy look in his eyes. “You had my handprints on your ass for days. Was absolutely lovely to look at.”

“It’s kind of like that. Hate and love and passion are strong emotions. And then there’s the satisfaction of seeing someone that you’re usually at odds with become absolutely desperate for you.”

He finishes his sandwich thoughtfully. “Is it kind of like how Jake does it? I mean, he gets pretty rough.”

“No, Jake goes after it like my pussy owes him money and my throat is the ATM. Not the same thing.”

“And Marc-“

“Not the same,” you explain patiently. “Marc has sex like,” you don’t even know how to explain the feelings Marc brings out in you, “like he’s trying to pull apart my soul and claim it with his cock."

Steven finishes his sandwich. After a bit he says, almost shyly, “and how would you describe my… skills?”

You blow out a breath. “You’re hypnotizing. You get me to do things and feel things, whatever you want, and you make it feel like it was my idea. Like I’d felt that way all along and you just opened the door and walked me through it. It’s like an out of body experience.”

Steven blushes. “That’s quite a generous description, love.”

You lean forward and kiss him on the lips. Then, you collect the plates and take them to the kitchen to wash up.

He follows you, rubbing circles on your back with his hand. “Since we’ll never get to experience this ‘hate fucking’ thing, maybe we can stick to the next best scenario.”

You rest your hip on the kitchen counter. “What’s that?”

“Just that, well, if I’m so convincing and all, maybe I can go over to my desk. Do a little reading. Really study, you know?”

“And I suppose, I shouldn’t disturb you?” You rinse off the plates and dry your hands.

“No. Definitely not. Nothing on offer for you m’afraid.” He backs away toward his desk, slides his readers out of his pocket and puts them on.

You wait patiently for him to sit down at his desk. “So, nothing like last time, where I sat in your lap and tried to get into your pants until you got so annoyed that you snapped and got into mine?”

“None of that.” Steven says seriously.

You start to cross the room toward him. “Maybe this time, I really need to push it. Really piss you off.”

“I don’t think you could. I love you too much.”

You smile. “Yeah, I don’t think you’re a hate fucking kind of guy, Steven Grant. And I love that about you.” You fold your arms. “But you have to take it easy on me this time. I have to be in meetings all day tomorrow.”

Steven smiles, a look somewhere between absolute glee and intense purpose. “Oh love, you’re going to be thinking of me all day, sitting on that sore little bottom I’m going to give you. That’s a gift from me to you. But, Jake has some thoughts on the hate fucking thing that he’d like to show you later. That one’s your fault for bringing up the silly thing in the first place.”

thinking about getting crossfaded with marc and then steven fronts ..!!!

18+ minors dni

words: 2.1k

warnings: crossfaded!steven grant x f!reader, marc angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol and weed, light choking, pinv sex, unprotected sex

summary: Marc comes home from a rough mission. He doesn’t want to talk about it; it’s one of those nights where he needs a crutch to ease his sore body and racing thoughts, and he needs you with him. When Steven fronts and is met with the unfamiliar effects of mixing smoking and drinking, there’s only one thing he feels like doing with (to) you.

It’s one of those nights where Marc creeps into the apartment after a long mission with his body sore and tired, his mind racing. It’s past midnight and the sound of the door opening has you stepping out of your shared bedroom and into the hall, arms wrapped around yourself and standing in one of Marc’s shirts as you watch him silently. You watch his broad back as he rummages through your junk drawer in the kitchen, pushing aside rubber bands and post it notes and business cards before grabbing a lighter and making his way to the balcony, fishing a joint from the back pocket of his jeans as he slides the door open and steps outside.

Of course, you follow him. You don’t say anything as you stand beside him and look out at the city skyline against the dark blue sky. You’ve been with Marc long enough and have seen him like this enough times to know that what he needs most is you by his side; not your pity, not your fear or worry, just your presence.

He leans his forearms on the railing and sparks the joint between his lips, taking a deep toke that he holds in his lungs for a few beats before blowing it out. The joint appears between two of his rough fingers an inch in front of your mouth. Marc watches with heavy eyelids as your soft lips close around the filter and you take a drag.

An hour or so later you’ve both made your way back into the apartment, Marc’s shoulders looking more relaxed, the notch between his eyebrows gone. The living room is lit only by the blueish street lamps outside that flood through the window and a few randomly placed candles you lit in an attempt to mask the lingering smell of weed. The coffee table’s become cluttered with a near-empty bottle of wine and two empty glasses, the lighter from the junk drawer and a triangular ashtray meant to resemble a pyramid from the museum gift shop.

The flashing picture of the television reflects in you and Marc’s dry eyes as you half-watch some shitty movie from your seat on the couch. You’re lying between Marc’s legs with your back to his torso, your head rising and falling against his chest with each breath. He’s so warm and his breathing is deep and slow, but you notice the way his stress lingers in how his large hands squeeze your waist, and his strong arms hold you against him so tightly as if someone or something would try to rip you away.

Later on, you feel Marc’s hold on you ease up and his breaths get deeper. Lifting your head slightly from his chest, you look up to confirm he’s asleep and press your lips softly to his stubbled jaw, whispering “I love you,” against his skin. You sit up and turn noiselessly above Marc so you can lay your chest on his torso and wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his chest and closing your dry eyes to slip into your own sleep.

⋆

A sudden movement from beneath you forces you awake, making your heart jump in your chest and eyelids snap open to darkness; it was still nighttime. You must have just fallen asleep, because it’s easy to open your eyes and prop yourself up on your hands on either side of Marc’s body. His torso is tense against your chest and his breaths are quick. His hands no longer rest on your lower back, but hover just above it, as if you’ll break at the softest touch; this wasn’t Marc.

Steven’s red eyes are wide and looking at the paraphernalia that litters the coffee table, “Oh, dear,” he rasps in his accent, slightly slurring his words, “You and Marc have had quite the party.”

His eyes turn to meet yours and you bite the inside of your cheek as you realize something, Steven’s never gotten high before.

“Steven?” you say, “...Are you feeling alright?”

In the dark room you barely notice Steven’s cheeks flush red to match the colour of his eyes, his hands come to rest on your hips and his fingers play anxiously with the hem of your (his) shirt. You’re sitting on your knees between his thighs, still only wearing the shirt and a pair of panties. Your face is still flushed from being pressed against his chest and the blueish light from outside makes your skin glow softly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he rasps, “That stuff really… clouds your head up, dunnit?”

“Do you… like it?” you ask. Your big doe eyes are red and searching Steven’s face for any bad signs.

“I, well,” one of his big hands leaves your hip to scratch the back of his neck, his thick bicep flexing with the movement, “I don’t quite know what to do with myself, to be honest.”

His hips squirm slightly on the couch and you look down to see a bulge beneath his briefs, Marc having discarded their jeans hours earlier. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and bring a hand to rub up and down his thigh, the muscles tensing instantly as he inhales sharply, “You should just relax, baby,” you say, “Y’want me to help?”

“God,” he moans, “Yes, yes, I need your help, love. Please… please, help.”

“Tell me what you need, Steven.”

His hands push your shirt up out of the way, his fingers tugging at your panties, “Wanna fuck you,” he says lowly, “Please let me, baby.”

A quiet moan, almost a sigh, leaves you at his words. The drugs were doing something to Steven, whether he was more confident or he just wanted you that badly, you weren’t sure, but Steven was usually the timid one in the system, asking to be fucked rather than begging to fuck you. Regardless, his change in demeanor was more than okay with you.

His droopy eyes were dark and greedy as they raked over your body, and his warm hand cupped one of your tits over your shirt, salivating at the way the fabric outlined your hardened nipples. You whined at the touch, wanting to feel his skin on yours, “Fuck me, please Steven.”

Your clothes fall to the floor as Steven pulls them off of you. You hiss as he tugs your panties down and you feel the cool air against your warm centre.

“God,” Stephen groans, “You’re so wet f’me. Pussy’s glistening so pretty.”

“Stevennn,” you whine as he kneels above you, holding your knees open and staring down at your cunt.

“Shh, shh,” he stands to pull down his briefs and release his thick cock, dark hair trailing down his lower stomach to the base, before returning to the couch above you, “I’m here, baby. Let us take care of you, yeah?”

Steven grips his cock to guide it to your dripping centre, guiding the thick head through your wet folds to get himself slick. He lands a glob of spit on your cunt before slowly pushing into you. You whine out at the feeling, warmth pooling in your tummy at the familiar way he stretches you, “A-ah… Steven, mmh.” His cock is so hard and thick, and you can’t help that your walls are already squeezing around him.

Steven groans as he collapses over you, holding himself up with his forearms on either side of your head and pushing into you so slowly. Excruciatingly slow. Your head is still hazy from the wine and weed, all you can focus on is the pressure in your belly as Steven bottoms out inside of you. You’re clawing at his bare back, the muscles there rippling and tensing with each long thrust.

He leans his head back to look at you, how you look so pretty for him in the pale light, glossy eyes going unfocused and dumb and he pushes in and out of your cunt, your jaw slack and pink lips parted as you whine and moan, bare tits bouncing softly as he fucks you. He brings a big hand to your throat and squeezes so lightly that you barely register the pressure. Steven has seen Marc hold your neck like this so many times from the mirror in your bedroom, but the view of you pawing at his forearm as you gasp in breaths from this angle turns him on a thousand times more. It has him picking up speed, his thrusts causing a rhythmic and wet slapping as you gush around his length, your juices coating his heavy balls that slap against the soft flesh of your ass.

Your plush thighs tighten around his hips, your eyelids fluttering shut as you blindly paw at Steven’s hard chest, “Come here,” you whine, making Steven collapse over you again and chuckle softly.

“Is that nice, love?” his warmth breath hitting the shell of your ear, “Is my cock filling you nicely? Can you feel me in your belly, baby? Tell me.”

“S-so good, Steven. Sooo deep, mmh.”

“God, such a sweet girl,” he moans, trailing kisses from beneath your ear down your chest and to your tits, taking a nipple between his teeth before darting his tongue out to lick the bud, rolling your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “Lettin’ me fuck you like a good girl, aren’t you? Takin’ this cock so well, so nicely.”

You open your eyes to watch Steven pinching and sucking on your nipples. A few dark curls fall over his forehead and his thick brows furrowed in concentration, all the while still thrusting into your leaking cunt. You squeeze around his girth at the sight, he was so hungry for you, sloppily and greedily devouring your tits, a trail of his spit glistening across your chest.

“Steven… W-wanna cum,” you whine, grabbing at his hips to pull him closer, deeper.

He pulls his mouth away from your nipple with a pop and looks down at you, all hooded eyes and puffy wet lips, “Shh, alright,” he coos, “Let me pound you ‘til y’cum. Would y’like that?”

You only manage to nod your head a few centimetres before Steven takes your hips in his hands, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he lifts your hips and begins slamming his cock into you. The new angle and the force of his thrusts has you crying out. Your cries and gasps fill the apartment, along with the smack of his hips against you, your pussy squeezing and squelching as Steven bullies his thickness inside your tight hole.

“That’s it,” he groans, “S’good at takin’ cock, sweet girl.”

The rough pad of Steven’s thumb began rubbing harsh circles over your clit, the pressure threatening to snap the invisible cord inside you. The thick head of his cock pounds that sweet spot deep inside you and his length rubs against your soaked and gummy walls.

“Fuckkk, y/n,” he moans, “Squeezin’ me so tight. Y’gonna cum, baby? All over m’cock?”

His deep and raspy voice has you falling over the edge, the invisible cord snapping in your tummy as you gush and throb around his length. Steven falls forwards and wraps his arms around you, your face buried into his neck as you sobbed, his face pressed into your hair as he grunted deeply.

Steven rides out your orgasm, pushing his still hard cock in and out of your sore cunt. He finally pulls out of you when you push on his chest and whine at the overstimulation.

He brings your legs together and hugs your knees to his chest, your ankles resting on his shoulder as he rubs his length between your wet, puffy folds and sticky inner thighs. You both stare down at the sight of his leaking cockhead poking through your thighs with each thrust.

“Mmf,” he moans, “M’cummin’, m’cummin’, fuckkk…”

Warm, thick spurts of Steven’s cum coat your lower belly as he cums. You swallow thickly and bite your bottom lip at the sight. It’s so filthy, Steven’s cock between your weak and shaking thighs, his forehead glistening with the effort of bringing you both to the finish line. His wet tongue darts out to wet his lips, his jaw slack as he stares down at your spent and fucked out body that’s now covered in his cum.

He presses a kiss to your shin before letting your legs down and heading to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, stumbling a little on the way.

Once he’s wiped you clean, Steven lays beside you propped up on his elbow, one hand on the side of your face and rubbing your temple with his thumb, the other roaming your body, squeezing your tits lightly, rubbing your tummy and hips, kneading the flesh of your thighs with his fingers.

You fall asleep to Steven’s warm voice in your ear. He chants quiet “Thank you”s and “I love you”s until he drifts off too.

<3

ellie’s gofund me <3 || ko-fi

hi everyone

i don’t even know where to begin because these past few days have literally felt like a nightmare.

and i hate more than anything asking for help but i really really need it.

i got ellie on 06/10/24 and since then i have had to take her twice to the vet. today i had to hospitalize her because she is very very sick. something that had not been disclosed to the person who got her for me.

in the span of 2 days, i now owe $12,500+ from her medical bills. and im trying so hard to not get overwhelmed by this but it has been such a difficult time. if you cant donate, i would so kindly appreciate you all reblogging.

thank you, and i’m sorry i’ve been gone and just came back on here and dump this really sad news.

i love you all.

UPDATE: i was told sometimes the gofundme link is not working so i have made a ko-fi as well. thank you so much 🫂

UPDATE 2: ellie’s medical bills have dropped drastically because her 48 hour stay turned to a 29 hour stay and her anemia was regulated without needing blood transfusions !! so we’re down to a little less than $6,000 for her hospital stay AND 1st visit.

she seems to be doing well, she’s eating a lot and playful! also very sleepy but has been so good with taking her medication. hoping she continues this way ❤️‍🩹