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wrathofrats · 2 months

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Mold me to another form, Press me till I'm raw and sore

Read here on on Ao3!

Happy mountain March have the virgin mountain fic I’ve been teasing for a second. @everybodyshusband COME GET UR FOOD BB

3.5k of pebble and ivy torturing mountain because he’s new and flustered and doesn’t know what he wants and the opportunity that presents itself is too good.

Warnings for voyerism/exhibitionism, some degrading, slight slight manipulation if you squint, little bit of pain but blink and you’ll miss it.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

Mountain can barely open his mouth to try and stammer out an apology before pebble keeps speaking. His hand moves faster where it’s still gripping ivy, forcing him further into the wood beneath him as he cries out.

“Come on Ivy, cum for him”

Or mountains a cute new summon and pebble and ivy can’t help but sexually frustrate him to no end.

It really wasn't mountains faults.

Pebble had told him to meet him in the greenhouse for a lesson. Enriching the soil or harvesting or something, he didn’t catch it. A quick note in between staring at Ivy who was wrapped around him in the common room. Honestly he barely mumbled out the time before Ivy was pulling his attention away once again.

He enjoys watching them, a mixture of jealousy and tantalization at seeing the two be so close and physical all the time. They brought a sense of loving comfort and a more sensual edge to them, at least to mountain, who was often at their heels learning his way around the abbey.

Mountain walks out into the garden to meet them, seeing no trace of the two. His eyes widened at the more than familiar sounds coming from the back corner where the greenhouse stood. Hushed whispers and moans that were unmistakable even to the new ghoul. The sounds grew louder as he walked closer, mountains feet moving completely on their own accord as if some weird part of his brain actually wanted to get a glimpse of them.

The door opens slowly, mountain internally cursing the old thing for being so rusted that he can barely get it unlatched without it telling on him. His hands shake as they grip the handle, the guilt and shame of trying to watch them making his breath hitch, but he can’t force himself to stop. The greenery covers him as he ducks to peek around the corner.

Pebble has Ivy bent over and pinned against a workbench. One claw digging deep into his hips and the other wrapped around the base of his cock.

“dont you fucking dare cum, be good and take it”

“pebble please I need it I-“

Mountains face flushes deep crimson at the sight of them. The waning sunlight reflects off of the tears slipping down ivy's face and the sound of him whimpering against the wood has mountain breathing heavily.

But pebble? The way pebble treats Ivy like he’s something to use makes mountain feel indescribable. He almost chokes when he hears how pebble speaks to him, at how pebble rakes his nails down his skin and smiles when ivy cries out in pain. It feels weird and his pants are too tight and he shouldn’t be watching this. He's dirty, perverted but it’s impossible to tear his eyes away from them.

A quiet, high pitched whine is ripped from his throat as he adjusts in the uncomfortable position he had settled in, hard and too worked up to think straight.

Suddenly pebbles head turns towards mountain.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

“Come on Ivy, cum for him” pebble yanks ivys head to the side by his hair to look at mountain. Pebbles hands are quick on Ivy’s cock and before he knows it ivys spilling all over pebbles fist with mountains name on his tongue.

It’s overwhelming, and mountains head clouds as he once again tries to apologize but pebble is too quick for him to react properly. Any thoughts being overpowered by the situation he’s found himself in. Guilt and arousal combined to subdue the regret in his throat almost completely.

Pebble gestures him over without a word, motioning for him to kneel on the grass in front of him. A hand brushes his lips before he realizes what pebble is telling him to do. He doesn’t feel in control of himself as his lips part, staring into pebbles eyes like he’s being controlled and pebble just slips his fingers into his mouth, wiping ivys release onto his tongue before placing his hand under his chin to close it.

“Good boy”

Through blurry vision mountain watches pebble hastily redress himself and ivy, hoisting him back onto shaky legs and giving him a once over accompanied by a sweet kiss. Pebbles attention turns back to mountain, also offering him a hand up and a pat on the cheek before walking out.

It seems like a game to pebble, a joke of some sorts that only really he is in on. The wicked smile as he caught mountain, then looking at him innocently like he hadn’t just made him lick someone else’s cum off his fingers. Mountain doesn’t know what to think.

A haze takes over him whenever he bumps into the two, the memory of the greenhouse incident being the only thing he can think about when he sees pebbles face. Innocent exchanges having mountain flustered and walking off to cool himself down even though nothing has happened.

The interactions don’t stay innocent however.

Mountain chalks it up to a wrong place, wrong time situation instead of anything more sinister. He can’t be blamed for freezing as he notices the lewd wet sounds coming from the living room. Especially since pebble just can’t keep his mouth shut.

Pebble sits on the couch with ivy nestled between his legs. Fingers tangled in his soft brown hair guiding his mouth up and down on his cock.

“What do you think mountain would think if he saw me use you like this sweet pea?” Pebble coos, a mocking smile to his voice that has Ivy whining, muffled and high in his throat. Mountain doesn’t know what to do with himself besides stand still and watch trying to hide himself behind the stair railing.

“Would he just think you’re a dumb whore? Maybe he’d want his own turn with you?” Ivys cheeks heat up more than they already had just thinking about it. Another soft, pathetic sound escapes his throat as pebble pulls hard on his hair, taking him off of his cock. Mountain can’t tear his eyes away, can’t retreat back up the stairs as he knows he should. He feels gross, like he shouldn’t be catching them, shouldn’t be thinking about them like this.

“Oh I know baby, maybe we can ask him” pebble smiles, talking just a bit too loud to be a coincidence.

It’s on purpose. Pebble is a fucking tease.

Every incident is set up just so mountain can catch them. Fucking ivy in plain sight where he knows mountain will be and honestly it’s just to see how much he can get away with. How far he can take his shenanigans before he breaks the innocent ghoul and forces him to use his words to tell them what he wants.

Ivy can’t act innocent either, absolutely involved in the game along with pebble. He plays himself up just to see mountains reaction. Moans when pebble mentions him knowing damn well he’s just around the corner. A bit of pity stays in the back of his mind, but the knowledge that mountain wants them so badly he barely knows what to do with himself is more than enticing to him. He craves the attention he gets from it, craves the fact that someone else needs him. Ivy especially loves how possessive pebble gets at knowing this too, that he needs to show Ivy off like some sort of trophy. So he continues to play along, presenting himself as a good little toy.

Mountain struggles. Hes jumpy, cautious when entering rooms like he might just walk right in on something he’s not meant to. Slow to come around corners and down the stairs, always listening a bit too intently. Pebble and ivy honestly find it cute how careful he appears to be, considering they know how much he likes stumbling upon them.

It doesn’t take much for mountain to break.

Walking in on them almost daily for a week has him about to fall to his knees and beg in front of pebble's door. Not even knowing what he’s asking for, just knowing he wants.

The last straw is walking in on the two again in the living room.

Once again slowly creeping down the stairs, listening intently for any signs he should instead abandon the idea and leave. He doesn’t hear it at first, assuming he’s safe until he’s too far into the room to back out.

Ivy sits on the couch with pebble settled between his legs this time. Both of his hands cover his face but mountain can tell how flushed he is. His breathing is ragged, heavy, as if he’s desperately trying to calm himself down and the smile on pebbles face tells mountain all he needs to know.

Something about Ivy’s cock twitching and leaking as pebble kisses at the head absolutely destroys him. Saliva pools in mountains mouth, and he can’t help but straight up gawk at the situation in front of him.

Hes been caught, he knows he has, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Pebble makes eye contact with him from the floor as he kitten licks ivys tip, curiously eyeing mountain as he lets a line of drool fall from his lips and down the shaft. It feels more like a command than just making him watch, the way his eyes shift as if he is beckoning mountain over to him.

He goes anyways, even if he isn’t sure. They’ve been teasing him for so long he can’t bring himself to believe it’s not on purpose anymore. The upwards curve of pebbles lips confirm his thoughts as he nods downward, motioning mountain to kneel beside him.

“Come on, you know what to do big guy”

Mountain looks back at him with something that can only be described as panic. He looks like a deer in head lights with his fingers digging into his knees

“I- I wouldn’t wanna intrude” he attempts to stammer out, looking for any excuse that doesn’t make him sound entirely incompetent.

“You aren’t, look at the poor thing, he’s been wanting your mouth for a while big guy” pebble smiles, with the tiniest bit of giddy to his voice knowing mountain has no clue what he’s doing. Practically taunting him.

Ivy can’t even look down at the two. He continues to hide his face with his hands, red and teary eyed and with how hard and angry his leaking cock looks, mountain can’t imagine how long pebbles been edging him, just waiting for him to show up.

“Just think you’d be better at it” mountain whispers

“Oh do you? Never done this before maple leaf?”

“No i-“ mountain starts, the blatant lie dying in his throat.

“Did you hear that sweet pea, you get to be mountains first” pebble smiles, claws gripping ivys thighs to get his attention. “Aren’t you honored to be able to be the first to fuck his sweet mouth?”

Ivy barely responds with something akin to whimper as pebble scratches him harder, his cock twitching once again at the pain.

“Just watch”

Pebble grips ivy at his base, giving him a good slow lick from root to tip before taking the head in his mouth. Ivy can’t help but give a pained whine when pebble pulls off once again with a little pop, lips pink and a little swollen from teasing Ivy for who knows how long.

There’s a tug at mountains shirt, pebble pulling him to be between ivys legs instead.

“Show me what you learned, cmon”

It’s so clumsy, mountain loosely grips Ivy in fist as if he’s scared to hurt him. He takes a second to look up, before thumbing over his tip as he watches more pre drip down the head, running down his shaft. He feels mesmerized, watching in awe while Ivy reacts to his every touch.

Mountain chases it with his tongue, licks a thick stripe up ivys shaft to catch it and ivy can’t help but almost buck into his mouth at the sensation.

“Don’t be greedy” pebble snaps at the earth ghoul above them “I’ve taught you better manners than that”

Ivy somehow goes more red than he was, mumbling out an apology behind his hands.

Mountain doesn’t even process most of the conversation, much too caught up in ivys taste. Something between tree sap and honey with his own musk mixed in. He can feel the pulse in his dick, the way it throbs in his hand and the entire situation in front of him is the only thing mountain can really focus on.

Pebble places a loving hand in his hair to attempt to coax him back to earth. His thumb strokes his scalp while mountain just stares at Ivy’s dick. Cleaning him delicately with his tongue as if he’s savoring the taste. Pebble pushes down on his head slightly to find it's much too easy to guide mountains mouth down, using barely any force to coax Ivy’s cock down his throat.

“Just keep those pretty lips open, relax”

Mountain gags a little, making pebble ease the pressure on his scalp off.

“Just breathe through your nose, relax, you’re ok” pebble tells him, voice softer than mountains ever heard it and honestly the kindness makes his vision blur. A complete whiplash to the usual harsher, more sarcastic tone he has.

Ivy isn’t very big, a decent couple inches, not very thick around but mountain struggles anyways. He tries hard, really gives it his best, letting pebble pull him up and down. His eyes water as he tries to force himself to relax. It feels weird, not bad, but it’s different. There comes a point where he’s practically bobbing on his own, pebble barely using any pressure anymore and mountain truly seems in a trance, almost cock drunk just off of only sucking on ivy for a couple minutes.

Pebbles other hand holds Ivy tightly at his base to prevent him from cumming embarrassingly early. Being edged for god knows how long combined with the sight of pebble practically teaching mountain how to use him, it’s just too much for ivy, and pebble absolutely knows that.

It’s a weird power trip for mountain to watch Ivy squirm above him, knowing he’s completely out of his mind with need just from his mouth. The sight of him desperate and practically ruined only fueling mountain to keep going as long as pebble lets him. Ivy’s hips buck as his legs shake, no doubt getting too close for pebble to be able to stop him anymore.

Pebble pulls mountain off just as Ivy is about to tip over the edge, quickly hooking a finger into his mouth to force it open. The other hand strokes Ivy, working him through his orgasm as he releases onto mountains face. He hungrily laps at what little bit got onto his lips and tongue. A dazed, static feeling settles into his brain and he can’t bring himself to close his mouth again. Hot and flushed, panting as ivys cum still sits warm on his skin. Mountain looks completely ruined, and pebble can’t help but feel proud of the two, if not jealous.

The sight of mountain completely ruined after just using his mouth is more than pebble thinks he can take. Honestly he can’t help himself. Thinking of the sounds he made with Ivy’s dick in his mouth, the look of submission in his eyes while pebble manhandled him into doing what he wanted, it’s too much for him to not need to get his hands on mountain himself.

He finds him in the greenhouse a couple days later. Leaned forward against the workbench mixing soils. There’s a tense smile as pebble walks in, mountain clearly being wary of the situation but knows what’s probably about to transpire anyways. He turns and backs up without being made to, giving easy access for pebble to drop to his knees in front of him.

There’s a struggle with mountains belt, pebbles shaky hands clumsily undoing the metal, an uncharacteristic nervousness about him as he works. He fumbles with the zipper, tugging at his jeans and boxers until he can pull mountain out fully.

Pebbles mouth waters. He almost moans when he finally sees mountains cock in front of him. He’s much bigger than he imagined, his hand barely wraps around the base and pebble curses under his breath. Mountain can’t help but feel a pang of pride at the way pebble acts so flustered at seeing his size.

His tongue darts out to kitten lick at the head, making mountain lean back to grip the workbench and push his hips forward slightly in hopes pebble will just swallow him down instead of playing his usual games.

A line of spit falls from pebbles lips and runs down his shaft. He makes a display of himself, mouth wide as he continues to tease, looking up at mountain through his eyelashes. He swirls his tongue around the head, before licking a fat line from his base, catching the small amount of pre that’s already started to form. He continues to tease until mountain is gripping the bench behind him so hard he’s sure there will be nail indents in the wood when he’s finished, cock angry and red and borderline painfully hard.

Swallowing him down is much more difficult than he thought, jaw aching at the size but pebble craves to feel him down his throat, stretching his mouth wide and making him gag. Mountain can barely bring himself to look down at the ghoul below him. It’s the first time he’s realized how much smaller pebble is than him, watching that hot, tight little mouth wrap around him and pebble can barely fit half of his cock down his throat before he’s gagging.

It’s hard for pebble not to feel smug. Getting him worked up and desperate, being the first to have his mouth on him. The sore throat the next day will only be a trophy for that testimony, a badge of honor. He wants to stay there, tease him for hours until mountain has tears in those big brown eyes but he just needs to feel him cum down his throat. Hes quick, sloppy, doesn’t want to take his time anymore, just wants to hear what mountain sounds like when he comes apart. Saliva runs down his chin as mountains hips move on their own, fucking up into pebbles mouth and in any other situation he’d chastise him but he can’t bring himself to care. It's easier than he thought, mountain attempting to choke out a warning only a couple minutes in but there’s barely an intelligible word before he’s shooting down pebbles throat.

Pebble pulls off with a pop, muttering a couple praises before smiling and leaving as if nothing happened.

He needs to tell Ivy, craves to be able to see the look on his face when describes how big he is, what he sounds like, what he tastes like, practically bragging about being able to get him like that.

He waits until he’s got Ivy pressed against the mattress, hands on his hips with his lips close to his ear

“Fucking massive, he would probably just split you in two if I ever met him get his hands on you honey suckle” pebble whispers, thrusting hard and fast while Ivy chokes on his own moans at what pebbles telling him.

“Probably would break my pretty toy, don’t know if I’d be able to let him have you doll”

Pebble can feel Ivy go tight around him, eyes crossing at the idea as pebble fucks him. The mixture of the way pebble rails him into the bed and the idea of mountain being so big he could break him, has ivy drooling, brain short circuiting before he’s almost begging for it. He simply needs to witness it for himself.

“Barely could get my hand around him, only god half of him in my mouth before I started gagging” pebble chuckles, “god should’ve heard him when he came down my throat, would’ve recorded it if I want so selfish”

Ivy tries not to moan, focuses on not saying mountains name and pebble can tell he’s struggling to control himself

“Cmon honeysuckle, know you want to say his name, cry out for him doll and maybe I’ll let him have you” he taunts

Ivy continues to stay silent besides the small noises forced from him as pebble uses him.

“Tell me what you want baby, go on”

Ivy fights himself to say it because he can’t imagine being allowed to be desperate for someone else let alone cry out their name while pebble has his cock in him. A hand grips his hair, pulling his head back.

“Say it”

“Fuck- need mountain to break me, need him to use me and fuck me open, need him to fucking split me in two pebble please-“

The embarrassment in ivys voice is reward enough for pebble, laughing at how shaky he is before releasing the grip on his scalp.

“Gonna cum for him? Make a mess thinking about how he would fucking ruin you?”

#idk what came over me #I hope my mountain lovers have fun w this #it could get worse THATS ALL IM SAYING #cw voyeurism #one day I’ll stop posting about pebble so much but today is not that day #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #wrath writes #mountain march #mountain ghoul #pebble ghoul #ivy ghoul

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saetoshis · 2 years

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the toxic ex! muzan on the dash today is just 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

like the thought of him ruining any chances of you moving on and even if you did (which is highly unlikely cause let’s be real dick too bomb) him just ruining that too

just him catching the slightest inkling you may have a date and him showing up at your apartment before to fuck you senseless. then when the poor person you were going to see calls to see where you are he makes you pick up the phone while balls deep inside you😮‍💨

-🐙

OT KY GOD THE WAY I HAVE SO MANY TOXIC EX MUZAN THIRSTS IN MY INBOX RN XRYINF😃IDEK WHAT TO SAY HELO IM LITETJAJY?:?;$3 IM GIGGLING ACTUALY FIGFLING N SMILINF AHFHWHF:??();

[‹ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS ›]

fem!reader, toxic ex!muzan, manipulation, degradation, [kinda] jealous sex, voyeurism (?) [your date calls you and listens to muzan fucking you], possessiveness, some dumbification, mention of creampie

it’s like muzan knows you like the back of his hand.

he’s held onto his spare key to your apartment for times like this, just so he can coincidentally show up right before you have a date. your adorable little gasp of surprise and hesitant response is warranted, of course, and all he wants to do is fuck you until that look of shock turns into one of sheer ecstasy.

“shh,” muzan puts his finger to your lips, slipping whatever outfit you had prepared for your date off of your keening body. his rasped tone shudders on your neck, “do you really think some random scumbag could possibly make you feel better than i do? mm, i don’t think so. only i know how to touch your body, fuck you just how you like it…”

you don’t even fully process his lips moving on yours, the sensual feeling lighting up every tip of your nerves as the familiar scent of his dark cologne fills your nose. it doesn’t take long until you find yourself splayed on your sheets beneath his brawny frame, thighs pushed open with his cock pressing into your cunt.

“feels good, doesn’t it? being touched like this by me again…” muzan’s words pervade through your mind like poison, and all you can do is chant out ‘yes’s as you whimper against his lips. each rut of his cock sends shivers up your spine, the filthy sound of unrelenting brash smacks making your head hazy. “that’s it… there you go, feel it all for me. you know i’m the only one for you…”

muzan can’t stand the idea of another man having and taking what’s his - and now he realizes he has to absolutely ruin you again and again until he’s the only person you can ever think of.

the more that his anger simmers in his chest, the rougher his wet thrusts get as his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave marks. his hand reaching up to grasp your neck, his lips parting to leave splotches of crimson on your skin - every filthy word and unforgiving stroke is completely possessed with obsessive jealousy.

“tell me who’s making you feel good right now, hm?” muzan mutters out between a pearled sneer, eyes sharp and biting as they admire your drooling, pitifully fucked-out state. his ruts burgeon in speed at your cute little whimpers of his name, and he knows he’s about to fuck you until that’s the only thing you can remember.

but when your phone vibrates on the mattress with another man’s name splayed on the screen, he has nothing but filthy ideas to take advantage of this opportunity.

“answer it. unless you want me to,” muzan leers out the words in a panted rasp, watching your shaky fingers press the ‘accept’ button before bringing it to your ear.

"h-hey," you murmur into the microphone, teeth catching your bottom lip as muzan's cock presses so far into your cunt that you swear it's touching your stomach. all you can hear is filthy smacks and your date complaining and whining about how you haven't shown up yet.

"put it on speaker," muzan sneers as his fingers dig into the plush flesh of your thighs, cock twitching with every time your walls tighten around him. he knows your body well enough to know that you're right on the verge, and the slick suddenly burgeoning around his shaft is enough of a clue.

a snapping tone of 'where the hell are you? why are you blowing me off?' resounds through the speaker, and you’re sure he can hear wet slaps with the bed squeaking in tandem through his end of the call. ‘wait- hold on, what’s that sound?’

muzan’s thumb shifts to rub harsh circles into your clit, the buzzing sensation sending you reeling into ecstasy as you cum practically on command. you’re shaking and whimpering, walls tightening around him as cock-drunken babbles of his name spill from your mouth.

“that’s the sound of your date cumming all over me… isn’t that right, pretty thing?“ muzan smirks devilishly at your chanted slews of ‘yes, yes!’ it only takes a few seconds until the man on the phone hangs up the call in a blind rage, and muzan’s back to focusing on making you absolutely addicted to him all over again.

“you can give me a few more of those, can’t you?” muzan mutters against your lips, breathing in your gasped whines and incomprehensible begs as he ruts into your now-sensitive cunt. “i’m not done until you show me how pretty a little slut like you looks with a pussy stuffed full of my cum…”

“i’m not done until i hear you say you’re mine again.”

2022 MUZANS.

tagging: @cherrykamado @aveegrex @divilyn

#OCTO NON OH MY GOD IMC RFOAISFN?>!@#THIS IS AMAZINGGDJGFFDFSJF #BARKBARKBARKGROWWWLLSNAPSNAPCHOMP #[‹ muzan! ›]#[‹ moshi : writes ›]#[‹ 🐙 : nonnie ›]#[‹ moshi : moshi? ›]#muzan smut #muzan x reader #kny smut #kny x reader #cw manipulation #cw voyeurism #cw breeding #cw possessiveness #cw dumbification #cw degradation

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sageispunk · 4 months

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looking ahead (18+)

more smutty richie x reader thoughts (minors dni) // WC: 380 (its short)

warnings: masturbation, voyeurism (dubcon- reader is unaware), self-groping?, richie is a bit of a perv and he's also ur roommate, no specific gender, race or body shape but reader does have a vagina; this song as inspo bc its stuck on repeat in my head

thinking about roommate! richie coming home late at night after a particularly aggravating shift at the beef, slamming doors shut and stomping around the house (he wouldn’t really be richie without the occasional tantrums).... after a while, he begins to wonder why you haven't come out of your room yet, usually you’d come out yelling at him to quiet down, ironically.

he quiets down to hear if you’re even home.

you are.

your headphones are on, something slow but loud filling up your ears as the softness of your body shook gently on the mattress. the thin sheet above you was beginning to dampen, sticking to your nude body, all spread apart underneath. your upper body is slightly propped up on a couple pillows and one of your bigger stuffies, and your phone is in your hand, screen dim but visible, a breathtakingly lewd short story taking your complete attention. each word on the screen spurred you on, guiding your fingers to move just a little quicker on your clit.

all the while, richie creeps down the hall toward both your bedrooms, careful not to make a noise as he listens on. the faint sounds emanating from your room–the quiet, but repetitive creaking of your bed paired with a sweet, breathy moan every few moments–turning him on with each passing second.

it made his cock twitch, all the anger and frustration in his body turning into pure lust at the thought of what you were doing behind that door. it was cracked open, just a tiny bit, which gave richie the perfect view of you on your queen-sized mattress, eagerly rubbing yourself underneath your covers, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip caught in between your teeth.

his dominant hand flew to his cock, feeling it harden from within the confines of his sweatpants. he gently squeezed the bulge as he stood there just outside your door, perfectly hidden in the dark hallway and free to express his desire for you. he knew that he shouldn’t, he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong to be watching his roommate, his friend, like this, but then he saw the way you threw your head back and cried out a whiny fuucckkk before sitting back up and throwing the sheet off of yourself.

then, he knew he was fucked.

#ill continue this if u guys like it <3 #i started this over like 3 times lol #but i liked this one the best #richie jerimovich #smut #richie jerimovich headcanon #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich smut #richie the bear #the bear hulu #the bear x reader #cw voyeurism #cw dubcon #cw dubious consent #my writing #sageispunk

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

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cw: voyeurism, masturbation // 18+ mdni, pervy!fem!reader

thinking about catching roommate!bakugou whispering your name while he touches himself.

it's not supposed to go like this, never like this, but the way your name keeps leaving your roommate's - your friend's - lips in these slightly panting, breathy whispers is just too sweet to resist.

it's temptation in its purest form - the spying. you call yourself a decent girl, try to convince your moral compass that you don't want to observe him when he's at his most vulnerable state, and yet you still stand in the dark hallway like some pervert anyway; hiding amongst the safety of its shadows and savoring every second of it.

you're even going as far as to peer into the living room from around the corner, with your eyes nearly burning two holes into the back of his head from how hotly lustful your gaze has become.

but above all else, you listen closely.

because how can you possibly keep yourself from doing that, when his voice is a low rasp, now; is laced with numerous coarse grunts that you've certainly never witnessed him using before? i mean, he's said your name plenty of times in the course of befriending you, sure - amongst other rather crude nicknames that he's lenient towards whenever he's agitated and you're in a mood to drive him even further up the wall, of course - but fuck, every letter sounds so appealingly sinful to leave his mouth at this very moment.

it makes you feel sort of dizzy as you strain your ears to hear him better. as you push forwards and step onto the tips of your toes slightly because they just won't stop curling in their fuzzy socks, god damn them.

after all, it's all you have. you can't see him as he sits with his back turned to you on top of the living room sofa that's certainly seen some better days, but that neither of you bothers to replace. can't catch a glimpse of the faces he pulls while he fucks his fist to the thought of nobody other but you, it seems. can't watch as his lips part and those fierce carmine eyes of his roll into the back of his skull from how his arm picks up its pace.

up and down, up and down, up and down. so high, so low.

so big.

so you settle on the sounds instead. on his coarse language; on all the fuck's and ah's and mm's. on his deep breathing and panting that sometimes hitches in the back of his throat whenever he, unbeknownst to you, comes real close to his finish, but edges himself right back into calmness instead. on the wet, sloppy noise that certainly has to be the lube that squirts and dribbles down his cock and turns it all sticky in-between his fingers. on your name, your name, your name.

and all right, perhaps your eyes do get a little show of their own. because when you look more closely and force yourself to really focus, you can see the flex of his defined bicep, then; the glimmer of sweat on the nape of his neck that turns the short, ash-blonde hair there damp with salt. can see the way his broad shoulders move, tan skin completely bare because of the summer heat.

he's sun-kissed and that's wonderful, but you want to do a better job than the fucking sun, and lick him all over instead. to walk over there, undress right in front of him in the mellow glow of the television he's left on, and sit right onto his dick that he's palming so furiously; so sloppily now. just ride it and ride and ride it, until he's moaning your name with shameless vigour, not this hushed cowardice that doesn't suit him his brash personality at all.

but instead, all you do is continue to watch him, of course you. because it's more proper; safe. like some sick, nasty and perverted girl, you spy on him until the very end - until he finishes. until he pushes his head back against the backrest of the couch, and this broken sort of moan leaves him, one that warms up your entire body as he tries to grit his teeth to quiet it down, and turns your legs entirely pliant for him in return. that causes heat to spill inside your belly, that makes it pool between your thighs until your cutesy cotton panties become soaked without a single touch landing on your needy cunt, much less inside it.

the wetness you feel turns profound quick. especially as he continues to breathe hard and ragged after coming back down. as he looses a sigh after a moment of thought, the sticky mess certainly caused because he's been imagining you riding him; imagining that little pussy of yours leaking the cum that's dripping off of his fucking knuckles now instead. as he curses, shakes his head as if in disappointment, and mutters an even more displeased "pathetic", aiming it right at himself.

and it takes all the power within you to not laugh and say "damn right you are", then. to not look him in the eyes before sinking to your knees right in front of him, soft mouth and warm, saliva-coated tongue so, so eager to clean him up before he's ready for a proper round this time. to not moan his own name out, in a way he's never heard it before either.

but alas, playtime is over. you see him brace himself to stand up, and it's your cue to leave. to give him the privacy he should have had from the start.

all hot and bothered, but still wary enough; you don't risk closing the door of your bedroom all the way in fear of it making too much noise if it'd click shut. so you slide into bed as silently as you can. curl yourself amongst the thin linen sheets. pull your favourite toy out of the drawer as you hear a set of footsteps heading towards the bathroom, followed by a flick of a lightswitch.

so you press the button on your toy. set the vibrator on the lowest setting, but make sure the buzz is still audible. prepare yourself to taste his name on your tongue as you spread your legs slightly, and feel that first wave of thrill rush over you.

who knows, maybe he'll come listen to you, too.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bnha smut #biscuit drabbles #cw voyeurism #katsuki bakugou smut

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angelbarelywrites · 30 days

Text

♡ slashers scenarios | let’s get kinky

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, The Boy, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; graphic sexual content, kink content

♡notes; pretty much just kink lists babey

oh boy i hope this doesn’t reveal anything about me

also happy easter lol

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> Knifeplay and breathplay are a given with this one

> He likes to be in complete control

> And a hand around the throat or a blade ghosting the skin definitely help him achieve that

> He also loves both tying you up and being tied up, surprisingly

> Letting you ride him while he’s tied to the bed is just about the only way you’ll get the man to relinquish any of that control

> And even then he makes sure you know he’s still the boss- if you’re too much of a brat he’s slipping the restraints and fucking you so hard you walk funny after

> He loves marking you up, mostly through biting

> And he likes to keep the mask on- even if he’s at a point where he rarely wears it around you

> He’ll quietly degrade you if you’re into that- you have to earn praise though

> But if you praise him you may actually be able to fluster him for once

Thomas Hewitt

> Breeding kink breeding kink breeding kink you can’t convince me otherwise

> He loves pinning you down into a mating press and watching your face as he fills you

> He’s so rough and overwhelming

> He likes to lick away your tears when it’s just too much

>And sometimes he’ll keep you pinned there well after, keeping himself inside.

> He’d let you call him daddy- and god does he get into it, but he’d be too shy to suggest anything like that himself

> He loves praise and he loves letting you know how good you feel

> Not usually verbally, but he’ll growl and moan and purr shamelessly

> He’s the king of oral, he’s like a man starved and you’ll end up overstimulated 9 out of 10 times

> And he loves when you reciprocate, especially if you don’t mind him fucking your mouth

Bubba Sawyer

> He’s a bit vanilla, not having much experience or knowledge beyond sex for procreation.

> Insert Drayton’s “sex or the saw” quote here lol

> But he’ll try anything for you at least once, he’s so eager to please.

> Most notably he makes a wonderful little submissive

> Whether you want him to bottom or just power bottom yourself, he loves being used to make you feel good

> He enjoys any and all praise

> He’s rather insecure, so he loves compliments on his appearance especially

> If you call him a pretty boy he melts

> 100 percent would love if you called yourself mommy/daddy/any other dom titles

> He loves when you sit on his face more than anything else

Vincent Sinclair

> The softest dom. He wants to take care of you around the clock, but especially in bed

> He’s a service top- it’s all for you. So much more concerned with you getting off than even being touched.

> He’s into wax play (Because it’s funny but also bc it’s underrated)

> And he likes to restrain you so he can worship you completely uninterrupted

> He’s not afraid of using toys, especially when you’re all tied up and at his mercy

> He loves taking pictures of you as well

> At first he claims it’s for reference but you know better, baby has a documentation kink

> He loves just watching too

> Trying to keep control while you touch yourself and moan his name is his favorite pastime

Brahms Heelshire

> Huge brat in need of taming

> Only a switch in the technical sense- he’ll top if you beg/bribe/pester him enough. He’s just lazy tbh

> Love love loves being both degraded and praised

> “filthy little boy” “pretty little slut” etc

> Prefers calling you mommy/daddy but can work with master

> And he’ll be your puppy if you want him to be

> He wears a cute collar and leash and lets you yank on it while you make him fuck you

> He loves when you edge him too

> Until he’s nearly in tears and whining and begging you to let him cum

> If you have boobs he’s obsessed with them

> And even if you don’t he’ll give the area lots of attention

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

Note

Love the idea of mafia dream secretly installing security cams in hobs flat…he’s able to keep an eye on him and make sure he never has anyone over. Though hob wont be happy when he finds out there is one looking at his shower

Hhhnnggg yeah. A camera in the shower head maybe, and a few dotted around to give a 360 view.

Poor Hob does try to lead a normal life. He has friends over, and he even tries a date... which was definitely a bad move. Everything goes wrong. The sprinklers go off, the electricity bugs out and Hob’s flat generally just acts cursed for the whole time his date is there. Hob knows that Dream must be responsible, but how?! When Hob confronts him, Dream just smiles. He slides his hand around Hob’s waist, ignoring his growls of protest. "I like to protect the things I own." Is all he says, and Hob gets a feeling that Dream isn't talking about the flat...

Hob's still blissfully unaware of the cameras in his bedroom though... which also pick up audio. So Dream can hear and see Hob with his arse up, legs spread, taking a big dildo is his hole...... and unmistakably moaning Dream’s name. Asking to owned and degraded and fucked.

He can deny it all he likes but Dream knows the truth - it won't be long before Hob comes begging for him. He'll wait and watch for as long as it takes.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #mafia au #cw voyeurism

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gemini-sensei · 4 months

Text

Watching You | Yasmine x Chubby!Reader ft. Pervert!Demetri

CW: college au, noncon voyeurism, noncon filming, oral (fem receiving), wild fantasies.

Parties were the perfect scene for Demetri Alexopoulos. He could be as horny as he wanted and no one said much, either too drunk or because he's so unsuspecting. He especially likes the parties with big dancing crowds. He can slip in and grind his hard-on against the ladies and they don't question it, usually. Sometimes he might get slapped in the face but it was worth it in his opinion. After that, he typically sat and watched the couples making out while he discreetly rubbed his cock to them.

Tonight, he was doing things a little differently.

After "dancing", he made his way up to one of the hosts bedrooms. The frat parties were great because people usually went upstairs to fuck. He always wanted to be in one of those rooms when they're there, but he never put too much thought into it. Until now.

He snuck into the room before anyone else and found a little hiding place, pushing himself into the closet. The slats of the closet door gave him the perfect view of the bed, center stage. He grinned to himself and waited, which he didn't have to do for long.

The perfect pair walked in: former mean girl Yasmine and her girlfriend Reader.

They giggled as they walked in, kicking off their heels and jumping onto the bed. Yasmine locked the door so no one could interrupt them. They said very little, holding each other and going straight into making out.

Demetri quietly undid his pants and pushed them down with his underwear just enough to pull out his cock. The thick, meaty cock hung heavy and he bit his lip to hold back a groan. The relief he felt just pulling it out was nice, but not the point. He refocused, finding the ladies undressing each other.

Yasmine shoved her hands into Reader's bra and squeezed her tits, giggling as her girlfriend moaned. She grinned widely, then undid the bra and tossed it aside. "Lay back for me, babe."

Reader did as directed and lifted her hips up so Yasmine could take off her panties. They were tossed to the wayside as well and Demetri found himself wishing he could grab them. He wanted them wrapped around his cock.

Yasmine spread her girlfriend's legs, pushed her own hair back, and dove into eating her pussy. She licked a stripe up her folds, making Reader shudder. Yas splayed her hands on her thick thighs, holding them open and digging her fingers into the fat. "Fuck, you're already so wet for me."

"Only for you," Reader whined.

Demetri smirked to himself, thinking about how that was untrue. As he got an idea, he dug into his pockets and pulled out his phone, setting it to record the scene in front of him.

"Oh my god, Yas!" Reader moaned as Yasmine shoved her tongue into her cunt. She lapped up her wetness, eating her out as if she were her last meal. Her thumb came to lay over her clit but she didn't push on it, teasing Reader with the idea of her clit getting played with. It was a lot. "Please, Yas! I need more!"

Yasmine hummed and removed her thumb, making Reader whine. However, it was quickly replaced as Yasmine shoved her face into the wet cunt in front of her and her nose pressed against her clit.

"Oh fuck!"

Demetri squeezed the base of his cock, biting his lip. He was a master at staying quiet, though it was a little hard in this situation. He was hidden and wanted to make as much noise as possible, but knew that if he did he'd be found out fast and get kicked out - or worse. So he kept his mouth shut and let himself enjoy the show.

Reader moaned loudly, gripping the sheets tightly and pulling on them as her girlfriend ate her out. It wasn't much longer before she was coming on Yasmine's face, squirting hard with her legs shaking uncontrollably. Her thick thighs jiggled under Yasmine's hands, unable to keep them still as she lapped up her wet pussy.

Yasmine pulled away with heavy, panting breaths and pushed her hair back out of her face, smirking down at her. "That was so hot, babe."

Reader panted, relaxed on the mattress as her body cooled down from the high. She watched as her girlfriend stood up and removed her panties, revealing her own wet folds, dropping the soaked, thin fabric to the floor. She then climbed onto the bed, over her girlfriend, and laid atop her. Yas grabbed her waist, her pudge spilling between her fingers, and planted her knees into the mattress on either side of Reader to push her pussy against Reader's, making her shudder.

They started making out, moaning into each other's mouths seconds before she started grinding down on her. Their pussies squelched loudly alongside their moans, almost in harmony. Reader planted her feet and thrust her hips up to grind back. She pushed her hands into Yasmine's hair and held her close as they broke their kiss for air.

From his vantage point, Demetri bit his lip as he watched the two beautiful pussies rub against each other. He slowed himself down, pumping his cock slowly to go along with the pace the girls had set. He had to stop entirely from time to time because he didn't want to come too soon. However, it got more intense as he fantasized himself walking out of the closet and sliding into one of their pussies, imagining how tight and wet they were.

Soon, he was pumping his cock with one hand and rubbing his tip with the other. Pre cum leaked from his tip so much, it coated his hand. He was making a mess, becoming a mess. He bit his lips together, swallowed his moans, and kept his eyes on them. He had a brief thought about filming them like that, but he was too close to coming to do that just yet.

He came as the girls whispered to each other, though he couldn't hear what they were saying. He knew their voices, though, and just imagined what they were saying. Fuck, you feel so good and More, Yasmine, please, Fuck me harder. The closet was dark and he didn't really know where he was coming, whether he was making a mess of something other than the wall or someone's wardrobe was getting stained; he didn't care though. All he knew was his cock was throbbing and he was coming a lot. He only wished he could see the two pretty ladies in front of his covered in his cum.

He fumbled for his phone again and quickly hit record, poking the camera out of the closet to get a better shot of the girlfriends as they fucked. He zoomed in on their cunts, happily he recently upgraded his phone and had a superior camera, and unafraid of them seeing him. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice him.

"I'm gonna come," Yasmine panted hotly, staring down into Reader's eyes. She subtly shifted their position the slightly bit so their clits repeatedly bumped into each other. Reader threw her head back and Yasmine smirked. "Fuck, 'm gonna come all over you, babe."

"Please," Reader moaned. She bucked her hips up rather needily. "Please, Yas, wanna come."

"Then do it, babe," Yas teased, making her movements a little more sharp. "I'm not gonna stop you."

It only took a few more grinding motions and clits rubbing together for Reader to fall apart again. Her eyes rolled up as her cunt spasmed, clenching around nothing as she came. Yasmine was soon to follow and they made pretty little messes out of each other and the random bed they occupied. They kissed, moaning together as they shared their highs.

Demetri captured the entire shared orgasm on his phone, quickly stopping the recording and pulling his phone to him. He grinned at the screen and clicked it off before the light could get him caught, his half-hard cock still leaking pathetically between his legs. He didn't care what he must look like standing in the closet, spying on two of his college classmates as they made out in after-sex bliss. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and he couldn't wait to do it again.

The ladies soon stood up, helped each other get dressed, and hurried off to a bathroom to get cleaned up. They giggled and talked as if nothing were wrong, which to them, nothing was.

Only when they were gone did Demetri rush to pull up his pants, stuff his cock into his underwear, and leave the closet. He made sure he had his phone and left nothing behind, then went to the bedroom door and locked it. He then went to the bed where the ladies had been, a large wet patch where they had come left behind.

He took his cock out again and laid it over the bedsheets, feeling the cool wetness the ladies made, now cool since it was exposed to the air. He thrust his cock over it, leaning over the mattress as he closed his eyes. After a moment of that, he took a pillow, held it over his cock, and pressed down, hoping to give himself a little friction.

Then he took out his phone and played the last video he's taken, closing his eyes as he fucked the pillow. He imagined it was one of the ladies, either curvaceous Reader or pretty blonde Yasmine. He groaned, their names occasionally falling from his lips as he humped the soft bed. Their moaned and wet pussies filled his ears as he went at it, lost in his own little world where the ladies would actually want him.

It was over all too soon as he came on the same spot they did. He spilled his seed over the wet patch, quick to remove the pillow so he could watch. His cum sputtered out in ribbons over the obvious spot and he bit his lower, swollen lip as he wished he was coming inside of Reader or Yasmine or both of them. Instead, his mess was wasted on the bed sheets.

When it was over, he put his cock back into his pants and turned out the lights, leaving the mess behind for someone else to stumble upon. Then he opened the door and slipped away.

No one saw him enter and no one saw him leave. He blended in with the crowd of drunk college students with their loudness, drinks, and casual clothes. He made his way downstairs, where he later caught sight of Reader and Yasmine as they chatted with their friends Moon and Sam.

Reader felt his eyes on him and looked around the room, only to see him looking at her. He smiled and waved because they shared a math class together and she waved back, unaware of his spying. Then she turned back to her friends happily.

Meanwhile, Demetri made plans to go home and watch his new favorite videos...

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tieronecrush · 11 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter two: couldn’t look away

neighbor!joel x f!reader

chapter 1 / series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 6k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, mentions of food/eating, pet name (sweetheart, darling [we're evolving]), polite southern manners (*cough* sir *cough*), feeling familial and self-pressure, masturbation (m), voyeurism, real pervy behavior from joel, descriptions of female nudity, fantasies of p in v sex, lil slightest bit of dirty talk, LATINO JOEL cause it's canon which means there's likely subpar spanish bye!!!

Wednesday morning comes by in a flash.

You’d spent the rest of the weekend after the neighborly barbecue replaying that last conversation with Joel repeatedly, your mind finding a different way to interpret his words each time.

“Well, it’s definitely gonna be somethin’, sweetheart.”

Was he excited to see you more? Was he flirting? Was he glad to have childcare? Was he annoyed about you getting involved? Was he nervous about having you around?

These questions looped in your head like a locked groove on a vinyl record — spinning around and around until someone comes to shut it up.

Which is exactly what happens as you stand on the Millers' porch after your short, polite knock at eight o’clock this morning.

Joel throws the door open in a whirl of nervous energy, his head turned towards a space further into his home. You clock his profile, hooked nose leading your eyes along the line of his face to the slightly patchy facial hair framing his jaw and his plush lips, which are moving as he projects back in the direction he’s facing.

“Got ten minutes until we’re rolling out, Bug! Better have your cereal finished and sneakers ready for me!”

Hearing his drawl, although not for you, makes your brain immediately shut up all of those musings from the last few days. The silence doesn’t last for long — your mind starts up again, but this time, your thoughts are merely consumed by a loop of “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…” when Joel turns to you standing outside the entrance. His lips stretch up at the corners, one side reaching a hair higher on his cheeks. Perfectly set pearly whites flash from between the two pink pillows, and your previous mantra is interrupted with the question of whether or not he had braces as a kid.

Who are you kidding? Joel definitely didn’t have braces. He has to be one of those lucky people that avoided the gawky, awkward preteen years and grew into the perfect specimen of a man that is standing in front of you.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” — that nickname again — “Thanks so much for popping by early to get the details for everything. Past few days have been a little hectic getting settled and fully unpacked, and trying to keep Sarah entertained in the meantime.”

His chocolate eyes squint subtly as the light creases next to his eyes crinkle. The amount of eye contact is verging on too much for you, your insides rumbling like an engine turning over and his presence revving your nerves.

Heat grows at the back of your neck, ready to blame any sweat sheening your skin from the rising humidity in the morning air when in reality it’s all because of him. Your throat hems as you pull on your own smile, years of debutante-like training to save face in uncomfortable situations blessing you at this moment.

“Morning, Mr. Miller. It’s really no problem at all, I’m usually an early riser so I would’ve been up anyways.”

People pleasing liar. Your alarm is usually your mom coming into your room to ask what you want for lunch.

“Please, just call me Joel. C’mon in, sweetheart. I’ve got all the camp info on the pamphlet that’s on our counter, and I figured I’d give you a quick tour of the place so you don’t get the abridged version from the seven-year-old this afternoon.”

A chuckle falls from your lips, stepping inside once Joel moves. He closes the door behind you while you take a quick inventory of the space. The front door leads into a small entryway, a table to your right, and a coat closet to your left. You follow the lead of the shoes piled up under the console table, adding your beat-up baby blue Chuck Taylors to the mix of worn work boots and sneakers, and small, sparkly sandals and velcro tennies.

The entryway opens into the living room, a large leather couch against the front window and a recliner perpendicular to it. The coffee table is an oversized rectangle, matching the sizes of the other furniture. It fits well enough into the space, but you can immediately tell that a man lives here, even without the context you’re privy to. Identical throw pillows don each corner of the sofa and the chair, some throw blankets strewn around. Remotes and DVDs lay across the coffee table haphazardly, a curated collection of Disney originals with action movies like Indiana Jones: The Last Crusade and Curtis and Viper 2. It surprises you to also see the romantic comedy The Goodbye Girl thrown on the surface, a pang of jealousy shooting through your chest at the thought that it was likely rented for a date that Joel had this weekend, or maybe right before he moved.

“This is the living room, obviously. Feel free to hang out here or watch TV or a movie if I’m ever home late. Sarah will probably beg you to watch The Little Mermaid with her at some point, it’s her favorite and I’m sure she’ll want to know your thoughts,” Joel’s hand falls to your back to guide you easily into the room, moving towards the large opening that leads into the kitchen. His touch is featherlight against the cotton of your t-shirt, a barely there pressure that is rippling energy up your back and down the back of your legs.

“It’s my favorite, too, so already got one thing in common,” you glance over at Joel, a grin tugging at your lips when his sideways smile returns, his hand pressing to rest fully against your back as he leads you into the kitchen.

“More of an Aladdin man myself, but I have been known to hum along to ‘Kiss the Girl’ every once in a while,” he confesses with a chuckle before he turns away from you, his hand leaving your back as the dining table in the breakfast nook comes into view. Sarah’s sitting engulfed in her cereal and a picture book laid out in front of her, not looking up quite yet to acknowledge your presence or her dad’s.

“Now I have to hear that sometime. And maybe you can give me a full blown rendition of ‘A Whole New World’.”

Your smile is innocent, words coated with saccharine and a hint of flirtation. It’s a line that you feel comfortable toeing right now, testing the waters to see what exactly Joel will give back — if anything.

As Joel opens his mouth to respond, Sarah’s ears perk up at the sound of your newly familiar voice. She drops her spoon into the bowl, some milk splashing out onto the placemat underneath the dish. Tiny legs scramble to stand on the seat of her wooden chair, curls bouncing as she wiggles in a full-body wave to greet you.

“You’re here! Daddy says you’re gonna hang out with me after I get home from camp. Are you gonna wait here for me all day? I’ve got lots of fun toys you can play with if you get bored. I can show you!”

Sarah beams excitedly as she bends down to pick up her cereal bowl, her dad reacting after it seems you both have the vision of spilled milk and a drenched little girl falling to the ground as she tries to maneuver herself down from standing on the chair.

“Bug, what do I always say? Butts in seats, not feets. If you put the bowl down, you can sit and get out much easier. Don’t need to be taking you to the hospital instead of camp today, right?”

Joel’s standing behind her chair now, holding the back as he waits for her to set the dish on the table and pulls the chair away from the surface after she’s fully seated again. His hand finds the top of her head once her feet are planted on the ground, flattening the kinky spirals under it.

Sarah rushes away from her dad, crossing the room to wrap her arms around your legs. Your hand finds the same spot as Joel’s had, fingers lacing into the soft curls to push them away from her face as you look down at her with a tender grin. You squat down to be closer to her eye level, sitting on your calves and locking your fingers together in front of you.

“Well, good morning to you too, Miss Sarah! I really wish I could stay all day and wait for you and play with all your cool toys, but my dad has some chores for me to do. However, I will be eagerly waiting for you at pickup today! And then we’ll come back here and hang out and play with all the toys until your dad gets home from work!”

A giddy smile adorns Sarah’s face, her tiny frame jumping up and down excitedly as she giggles. Joel strides over, the sound of his daughter’s excitement tugging at the corner of his mouth. His large arms scoop her up effortlessly, holding her at his hip as he reaches out a hand to help you up from your squat. You take it, rough callouses from the labor of building smooth against your softer palm. A jolt of energy shocks your nerves at the contact, goosebumps pebbling on your skin.

Joel drops your hand gently, wrapping it back around Sarah as he supports her weight. He looks between you and her, a smile still stretched sweetly across his expression.

“Alright, mija, we really gotta get goin’ if we are gonna get you there on time today. Can you please go get your sneakers on for me while I make sure everything is gonna be in order for later?” Joel’s eyebrows raise in questioning, Sarah’s confident nod easing them back down. He swings her out of his arms and sends her toward the front door, eyes snapping back to yours.

“Hopefully she’ll be a bit tired when you get her later, she can be…energetic in the mornings,” he laughs softly and you do the same, following him as he circles around the island to your left.

Laid out on the granite is the camp pamphlet, with the address and pickup times, and instructions detailed inside. Next to it is a list of emergency numbers, including the landline for the site office where he’s currently working as well as Tommy’s number and a phone number labeled with the name Tiffany, scrawled in parenthesis next to it “Sarah’s Mom”. The ten digits following it send a swirl of anxiety in your gut, your mind reeling to what she could be like. He’s never mentioned her mom being in the picture, and it was silly of you to assume that she wouldn’t be. Maybe they were together still, maybe she was out of town for some reason when they moved.

As if Joel is hearing your thoughts out loud, he clears his throat and nods toward the paper.

“She, uh, she’s only got every other weekend right now…I figured I should put her down, y’know, in case I don’t answer or Tommy doesn’t either. Just for emergencies though. Please.”

You nod once at his anxious but clear directions for the phone number, eyes turning up from the list of numbers to meet Joel’s with an affable, thin smile. Joel continues at your understanding, reaching into his front pocket and fishing out his cell phone. He passes it to you with a “New Contact” page open, clearing his throat briefly before fumbling out.

“I, um, I thought we should probably exchange numbers, so I can call you — or y’know, you can give me any updates or text me or call me — if you wanna — with any questions. And I thought I could let you know when I’m on my way home if you’d like.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Miller. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m all good. I’m the one takin’ care of your kiddo, so you just tell me what you want me to do.”

The device sits weighted in your hands, eyes leaving Joel’s to begin punching in your information. You hand the phone back to him, your number stored under your name with “Nanny” following it in parenthesis.

You slip your own out of the back pocket of your jeans, giving it to Joel to put his own phone number in. The small brick is dwarfed in his hand, some incredibly quiet grumbles slipping from his lips as he messes up a few letters or digits from his large fingers working the small buttons. Once he’s done, your phone comes back to you with the information saved under Joel (Sarah’s Dad).

As if you really wouldn’t know who he was based on his first name alone.

You deposit your device back into your pocket, looking back at Joel and raising your eyebrows in curiosity.

“Anything else I should know, sir? Allergies, things that Sarah isn’t allowed, should I make dinner for y’all?”

Joel’s eyes fall away and his broad shoulders tense at the word ‘sir’, and part of you wonders if he’s averse to the polite title or if it’s a reaction to you speaking it towards him. Your thighs burn at the latter thought in a new way, adjusting your stance to hide the uncomfortable pressure you feel in your gut as you study him nervously fumbling around with the materials on the counter.

“No allergies, and I, um, try not to give her any sweets as a snack. She’ll ask for ‘em, but don’t feel bad puttin’ your foot down. And you most certainly don’t have to cook dinner for us, sweetheart. I promise I can take care of that once I get home. Might need it some nights when I’m late, but those times, Sarah’ll be just peachy with some mac-‘n-cheese or chicken nuggets.”

“Yes, sir,” your voice has a hint of teasing in it, the phrase rolling off your tongue flippantly and your eyes studying Joel’s reaction. He turns towards you to see the cheeky grin on your face, tension relaxing from his shoulders as he gives you a look. One that says “be careful”, a playful warning of the waters you’re merely dipping your toes in.

“Y’know, you’re real polite, but I promise you can call me just Joel, sweetheart. No need for the niceties.”

You swear you see the flecks of amber in his eyes darken in a flash, hands gathering everything to get it on the fridge to find when needed and leading you out of the kitchen.

The rest of the plans are discussed as Joel adjusts the velcro straps on Sarah’s shoes in the entryway, his back facing you as he tells you about where to find the key that’s hidden on the porch. You’re half listening and slipping on your own shoes, the other half of your cerebrum busy analyzing the way his navy blue cotton t-shirt stretches across his shoulders and rib cage as he’s kneeling down and bending over. The stretch of the material makes the hem ride up ever so slightly to reveal a thin stripe of tanned skin above the waistband of his Levi’s. The jeans are tight at his hips and the position he’s folded into shows off a sliver of the elastic of his gray boxers.

The image of him tight, taut, and bent over is reeling in your mind and intensifying that pressure you felt a few minutes before, only this time it travels from your gut to between your legs. The knowledge of the feeling in such an intimate area makes your cheeks and neck warm with anxiety, praying to whoever’s out there that Joel can’t tell what you’re thinking about him.

Once Sarah’s shoes are fixed and the straps of her Blue’s Clues backpack are slipped onto her shoulders, Joel stands up again and claps his hands together.

“C’mon, Bug. We gotta get goin’, can’t be late. Vamos, mija!”

Sarah jumps excitedly and looks up at you, stepping over to hug your legs.

“See you later!”

You fluff her curls, a soft smile finds your lips at her excitement to see you again.

“I’ll pick you up, and we can have all the fun before your dad gets home,” you send her an exaggerated wink, your eyes locking with Joel’s as Sarah’s arms pull away and she jets out of the front door that Joel is holding opening. He gestures for you to go ahead of him with a nod of his head, a crooked, closed smile donning his face.

The seven-year-old has bolted to the truck in the driveway, and you turn back to say a quick goodbye to Joel. Without realizing how close he was to you, your shoulder bumps his firm chest and his hand grabs for your waist as you stumble back. His large palm radiates warmth from its spot on your side, brown eyes fixed on yours as his fingertips dig into the flesh under your shirt. From this close distance, you get a hint of mint from his toothpaste and that familiar scent of bergamot and cedarwood from his cologne. It’s an intoxicating mix, your exhale hitching in your throat and a quick inhale following it to gather as much of his scent as possible. It feels comfortable, safe even, with his hand on you and his breath intermingling with yours. His tongue pokes out briefly to wet his lips, his hand falling to his own side when you take a step back and attempt to steady your breathing.

“You alright there, darlin’?”

Darlin’, that’s a new one.

Thuds of your pulse fill your ears while your head moves in a nod to cover up the electric shock of adrenaline that Joel has sent through your body.

“All good, thanks, Joel. Sorry for bumping into ya, didn’t realize you were right there. I was just gonna say goodbye, or really, see you later.”

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Have a good day, and feel free to text or call if you have any questions,” his departing words are punctuated with a gentle smile, the crinkles next to his eyes growing deeper and a dimple appearing on his right cheek.

The sight makes your pulse grow louder in your ears, washing out other morning sounds of birds chirping and cars rumbling to life in everyone’s driveways. A short nod from you ends the conversation, and your feet step back and turn to walk down the two steps from the Miller’s porch to the front walkway. Joel follows behind, his work boots much louder against the wooden stairs. He calls out to you to grab your attention before you make it out of the driveway, passing off the extra car seat he grabbed from his garage before you arrived, explaining briefly how to install it in your backseat for Sarah; you take the plastic and felt safety device and head back home to wait out the hours of the day until you see him again.

Rounding his truck, Joel moves to get his daughter into the car and glances back at you at the same moment you do. Quickly, you turn right back around, your legs speeding up to carry you across your lawn to the open garage door of your house. Risking it, you turn back over your shoulder just once more to see Joel climbing into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition. He effortlessly reverses from his driveway, and as if he can see you in his rearview mirror, he throws a hand out his open window in a short wave to you before he lurches down the street.

Pickup went smoothly, Sarah found you outside in the carpool lane and ran up to get into your SUV. Once she was buckled in securely, you drove out from the park district buildings, the adorably high-pitched voice of the seven-year-old in your backseat rambling off all of the activities that encompassed the first day of camp.

You ask her questions, hearing all about the nature explorations they went on, the other kids in her group, her counselors, and more. The conversation carried over from the car, to snacktime, and even into the scenarios that Sarah had her Barbies act out.

Hours flew past, and before you knew it, your phone buzzed shortly on the wooden coffee table. Setting the blonde Barbie in your hand to sit down with the others that Sarah was playing with, you grab your device and read the message from Joel:

On my way home — hope you two have been having fun

The message is straight to the point for the most part, but the slightest idea of him thinking about you this afternoon nests its way into your mind and your heart, igniting a kindling from inside you. Sure, he was probably nervous about your first day on the job and how Sarah would be getting along with you, but that was still a thought about you.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Small mannerisms of Sarah’s reminded you of the tiny observations you had made of Joel in your limited time together. A brow furrowed into a deep crease with playful annoyance when you had veered from the story that Sarah was telling with the Barbies, the small dimple in her right cheek when she giggled at something funny you said, the soft demeanor she kept when playing with her baby dolls — clearly mirroring the care her father showed her.

It was incredibly adorable. And also incredibly frustrating, as it meant that Joel had infiltrated your mind for the whole afternoon when you were hoping your time nannying would give you a reprieve from your little schoolgirl crush on your neighbor.

Clicking the buttons quickly, you shoot a text back to him before your attention is dedicated to Sarah again, who’s found her dress-up clothes in her closet from upstairs:

We’ve had a blast, at least I have :) See you soon!

You hit send before you can overthink the wording, your phone finding its place back on the living room table as you follow Sarah to the bathroom to look for her clips to do her “princess” hair.

As you place the last rainbow-colored clip in Sarah’s hair, the front door closes with a click. Boots tumble against the tile near the entrance, the sound pulling the little girl’s attention from the mirror, a smile beaming on her face as she runs to greet her dad.

“Hi, Daddy!”

A smile finds your own face as you follow out from the downstairs bathroom, watching as Joel grabs for his daughter, swinging her up into his arms to be held like a baby. His genuine grin tugs at your heart, the wholesome vignette playing out with a rose-colored tint in your eyes.

“Well hello there, Princess!” Joel sets her tiny frame down, bowing graciously in front of her before giving her a quizzical look, “Pardon me, Princess, but have you seen my daughter? She’s about yay high, pretty curls, killer smile. Responds to the name Bug, or Sarah.”

You can’t help but laugh quietly to yourself as you lean against the wall, arms crossed over your chest as you look on. The sound pulls Joel’s eyes to meet yours briefly, a smile flashing with a wink before his faux confusion returns to his daughter in front of him.

Sarah’s giggles fill the room, her light voice informing her father between bouts of laughter, “Daddy, it’s me! I found my princess costume and we did my hair all pretty.”

A gasp from Joel cuts through the giggles, mock realization washing over his expression.

“Oh my goodness, it is you! Well, don’t you look pretty as a peach, Bug!” He presses a kiss to her forehead standing to his full height as Sarah runs into the kitchen to grab her artwork from camp that she’s been waiting to show off.

Joel’s gaze meets yours again, a warm smile raising one side of his mouth as his eyes glint with something that looks like a mix of exhaustion from work and relief to be home.

“Hope there wasn’t too much trouble with pickup or here at the house,” he pats his pockets with a concentrated look on his face, finally feeling what he was searching for and fishing it out of his dirt and sawdust-covered jeans, “I, uh, got this made on my lunch break. Figured it’s easier for you to have your own so that the emergency one can stay there. Lord knows Tommy or I need it too often for it to go missin’.”

He strides over to close the gap between the two of you, keeping about a foot and a half of space. His hand holds out the object, your smaller one extending your palm out to receive it. A gold key drops into your hand, your initials Sharpied on in his handwriting, and a rush of exhilaration tingles off of the metal and down your spine.

Joel’s fingers brush your skin as he pulls away, your stare lifting from the key to meet his. A smile pulls at your lips, your tongue swiping across your bottom lip before you speak up for the first time since he’s gotten home.

“Should I be expecting any late-night calls? Y’know, when you forget where the emergency one is or if Tommy’s lost it?”

One of his hands lifts to rub at the back of his neck, a slight cringe on his face as he chuckles.

“I have to say, I wouldn’t put it past me. But do not feel obligated to come ‘n help me, I promise I’ll survive a night sleepin’ in the truck. Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for waking you up, darlin’, just 'cause I was bein’ a dumbass.”

“And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for letting you have a bad night’s sleep, sir. I’d come at any time.”

Joel’s throat clears when Sarah’s rushed footsteps pad back into the room, large craft paper paintings in each of her hands.

“Here, look Daddy! I painted these today — my group leader said they were beautiful.”

Before both paintings end up in his hands, he lays a hand on your shoulder, completely enveloping it in his warmth and giving you a light squeeze. His eyes shift to the collar of your shirt and look away quickly before he nods toward the front door.

“Go on and head out, sweetheart. Don’t wanna keep you from any plans ya got. I’ve got a dinner for a Princess to whip up and museum-quality paintings to analyze.”

You're the one to break the eye contact he’s been holding, stepping away from his touch and feeling the chill of the air on your bare shoulder. Sneakers slip back on your feet, not bothering to do up the laces when you’re merely crossing your adjacent lawns to get home. Stopping short of the front door, you turn back to see Joel already staring, Sarah passionately explaining the painting that he is holding.

“Night, Sarah. Night, Joel. See you both tomorrow!”

“Have a good night, darlin’. Sleep well, see you tomorrow.”

His words wrap you in a cozy blanket, his drawl echoing in your mind as you send him one last smile before shutting the door and exhaling deeply.

It’s gonna be a long summer.

With his daughter asleep in her bed after an hour of reading chapters to her from the latest obsession, Matilda, Joel is relieved to finally have a moment to himself. He’d spent another hour of his evening in front of the TV, attempting to watch the rerun of the latest episode of The Sopranos, before he decided to call it a night and head to bed earlier than usual. It was only about ten o’clock, but Joel is usually one to stay up until at least midnight before he can shut his brain off from all of the stress he’s under day in and day out.

Taking care of Sarah, working long and laborious hours, and keeping his brother under his thumb so he doesn’t go off the deep end. And these days, he’s added the stress of behaving around you. His first glimpse of you the day he moved in made his heart rate pump faster, and when your mom suggested you as a nanny for Sarah, it excited him to be able to see you more and get to know you. He hadn’t thought about the close proximity he would constantly be in and the way you consumed his thoughts when he was away. And he definitely — no absolutely cannot act on the desires he feels towards you, especially as, well, your employer. It would be completely inappropriate. Your parents trusted him to give you a safe summer job, and he really doesn’t want to be driven out of his new home with torches and pitchforks if they found out what he thinks about you. What he wants to do to you.

It all gets to be too much, and tonight is a night that the exhaustion has caught up to him. He wants to relax — turn his brain off for a moment to be able to succumb to sleep, which is why he finds himself dragging his heavy limbs up the stairs to his bedroom.

He shuts the door behind him softly, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he crosses the room. Once the fabric is dropped off of his arms, he’s stood in front of his window, glancing out into the dim night with the glow of street lamps illuminating the sidewalks. Pulling his gaze back up and into his room, he does a double take at what he caught a flash of.

Your bedroom window.

He hadn’t noticed that he faced your room until this moment, probably from the late nights he’s accustomed to spending downstairs on the couch until the last possible second. You must always be asleep, or at least have your lights out when he climbs into bed.

Tonight, however, he can see in. He can see you.

And he feels like a fucking creep.

You're standing unknowingly exposed to him in your open window in your bra and panties, clearly getting changed to head to sleep. He sees the full view of the soft pink bra he’d spotted earlier today when a strap peeked out from the collar of your t-shirt. He felt like a perv staring at it then, imagining what the whole thing looked like against your skin, but this was a whole new level.

His legs are cemented in place while his brain is screaming at him to look away, to go to bed, and forget all about your baby pink bra and white lace-trimmed panties. All the while, he can feel the crotch of his jeans tightening as he watches on with wide eyes and saliva flooding his mouth as he voyeurs.

Yeah, his brain isn’t gonna win this one over his dick.

Your back is to the window now, and to him, having turned around to face the inside walls of your room, and your hands reach around to unclasp your bra. You let it slip from your shoulders, catching it at the ends of your arms and turning to the side to set it on your bed.

Warm yellow lamplight backlights you, the silhouette on display for him showing off the curves of your breasts and hips, the soft lace of your panties shining in the low light. Joel feels the strain of his jeans to the point of discomfort, and despite him feeling like a complete debauchee, he justifies his decision of what he’s about to do by telling himself that it’s a much better alternative to him succumbing to his desires to have you — it’s better to observe from afar and relieve some tension than it is to make you uncomfortable and lose his childcare for the summer.

Hands grip the back of the desk chair near him, sliding it up to the window and angling it to have a good view while being able to stay hidden. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles before sitting in the chair, palming himself as he watches you move around your space without a shirt on.

He reaches into his boxers, pulling his cock out and letting it sit against his stomach as he continues to watch you. Precum dribbles onto the dark curls of his happy trail, the ache in him too strong to ignore. He spits in his hand and starts to stroke himself, a soft groan falling from his lips as he watches you move closer to the window, the night light illuminating you in a blue hue as you lean over whatever surface is in front of your window.

He watches as your breasts move from the motion, his hand speeding up as another moan slips from his mouth. He’s desperate to close his eyes and imagine you under him or on top of him, but he cannot draw himself to look away, especially when he sees a bottle of lotion in your hands.

You pump some out and start to apply it to your body, starting with your arms. He studies your hands gliding over your skin, rubbing and buffing the moisturizer in. You move back towards your bed, lifting your legs to massage the lotion in one at a time. He wishes he were there, kneeling next to you to get a view of your clothed cunt in the innocent white lace of your underwear. An image of what you could look like flashes in his head — wet, spread, and ready for him. He envisions his hands where yours are and your hand where he is working his cock, breath catching in his throat as you reach your breasts and abdomen.

Envy crawls in his chest, a growl sounding from his mouth as observes you getting to touch yourself in ways he’s been imagining since he met you. All he wants is to feel your soft skin pressed all over him, to feel either your hand, your mouth, or your sweet pussy (it has to be sweet, there’s no way it couldn’t be based on that syrupy voice of yours and those candied endearments towards everyone) wrapped around his cock instead of his own fist.

Your hands slip under the waist of your panties to moisturize the skin underneath there, and the vision of you so close to touching your own cunt sends his fist in a wild pace up and down his length, his head rolling back with a deep but restrained groan.

When you come back into view, you’ve got a t-shirt in your grip and his hand continues feverishly as he whispers, no whimpers, to himself, pleading with you to leave yourself bare for a moment longer.

“No, no, no, c’mon, darlin’. Only take a second, pretty please, baby,” his breaths come out heavy, the humidity of it adding to the sweaty stickiness across his body, “Fuck — Quiero metertela, quiero dartelo. (I want to put it in, I want to give it to you.) Gonna make me come just from lookin’ at you, you don’t even know. Such a pretty girl.”

As if you heard his begging, you drop the shirt onto the bed and climb onto it on your knees, bending over and supporting yourself with one hand as you reach for something at your nightstand that’s out of sight for him. He doesn’t even care to know what you could be preoccupied with, thankful for whatever the distraction was for making you get on (almost) all fours for him. At least, he thinks of it as for him, despite you not knowing exactly what he’s doing across the way.

The guilty thoughts of his depravity fall to the wayside as he gets closer to the edge, his mind racing with the phantom feeling of fucking into you from behind in the exact position he can see you in. The only sounds in his room are his labor breathing and the glide of him fucking his own hand, slaps of his arm hitting against his thigh repeatedly.

As if on cue, you sit back on your knees to give him a full view of your form again as he comes, your name rolling off of his lips. Short ropes of white spend coat his fingers as he slows through his orgasm, whimpering while his eyes screwed shut tightly. When they open again, he watches you slip the t-shirt over your head and shut your lamp off, leaving Joel sitting in the dark with only the streetlights casting enough illumination for him to see the mess he’s made of himself while being a Peeping Tom.

It’s gonna be a long summer.

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