I noticed that some of the links in part 1 stopped working so here's part 2 (sorry if you were tagged already in part 1). I'll keep adding to this list here. Most of these fics have smut so 18+ minors do not interact!
My favourite series:
His Best Girl (mostly Michael Robinavitch x reader but also has Langdon, Park, and Abbot) | @thykingdoncome
When Did You Get So Hot? (Pope Cody x reader) | @sleepingbeautiiies
andrew and gf being horny (and in love) (Pope Cody x reader) | @pittrabbit
Assistance (Titus Danforth x personal assistant!f!reader) | @yournamesnob
My favourite one shots:
Take Care & Listen (Brendon Park x reader) | @rr-after-dark
My kind of Shark (Brendon Park x reader) | @atlaslapis
Baby Shark (Brendon Park x reader) | @atlaslapis
Six Weeks Minimum (Brendon Park x fem!reader) | @jadeittic
My Kink Is Karma P.1 (Brendon Park x AFAB!female!reader) | @novemberaster
Bedside Examination (Michael Robinavitch x reader) | @whichwayisthebeach-seabass
stepdad!robby's strip club adventure (Michael Robinavitch x f!reader) | @robinavitchslut
The Ache of Obsession (voyeur!stalker!Pope Cody x fem!reader) | @pearlessance
Shark Attack (Dr. Jack Abbot x Fem!R4!Reader) | @abbotsmyhabit
Little Lovebug (single dad!Andrew Cody x reader) | @baransdollie
Hell On You (Pope Cody x bunny!reader) | @mariasont
You Shaved Your Bush (Jack Abbot x reader) | @keytomylockhart
Glad to see you back (Jack Abbot x reader) | @atlaslapis
House Rules (Michael Robinavitch x resident!reader) | @dirtyb1rdy
Love At First Coffee? (Brendon Park x f!reader) | @metal-armed-muse
My favourite blurbs/drabbles:
he gets hard seeing you in high heels (Pope Cody x reader) | @cuti3-81
Forever (Pope Cody x fem!reader) | @kisscoabbot
Semi-public sex with perv!mean!tennis coach!robby (perv!mean!tennis coach!Robby x female!reader) | @robinavitchgf
in case of emergency (Robby x attending!reader) | @miniswritinblog
Jack's Human Utah (Jack Abbot x reader) | @mrsmckay
hot tub with dbf!jack (dbf!pervy!jack x reader) | @bloodnguts17
A Very Happy Birthday (Jack Abbot x reader) | @thatfanficstuff
Sweetest Little Belly (Michael Robinavitch x Fem!Reader) | @rhettsunshine
stepdad!robby loves his mini me (stepdad!robby x f!reader) | @robinavitchslut
Needy husband!Pope (Pope Cody x reader) | @velvet-lane
Toxic Foreplay (Titus Danforth x f!reader) | @in-ky
Making prejac Sammy fuck a fleshlight (Sammy Bryant x reader) | @valleyanimalz
sleazy baby daddy Boyd who comes round your crib in a white beater and his backwards cap, unlocking the door like he owns the place (he has a key).
you guys are separated but he still grabs your ass from behind while taking his babygirl. “boyd make sure you-ooh! stop that!” “what? don’t act like it’s not the reason we got here in the first place. love this fat ass.” you’d only been together a few months to a year when he knocked you up, and when he said he didn’t want shit to do with that, you bailed on him. moved out, ignored his calls, ignored his scrub ass homeboys who would call your job asking for you.
but over time, he let the realization simmer in the back of his head. he has a kid. with a really cute fuckin girl, one he still loves. so he found you..somehow. you didn’t think too hard on it. and you didn’t let him back in your life so easily, not when he’d shown how he’d bounce if times got tough. but when it came time he went to your appointments, you were already far along enough to show. he has to be there for you, for his little girl.
he curls up on the fooor of your baby girls room, smiling as he crawls all over him and throws his glasses. u can’t help but love it. he takes care of you, for the most part. doesn’t let you go without a meal, rent, anything you need. even if you aren’t together now, he still steps up. not letting you stay cooped up in your house, making sure your nails (toes too when he can) are done. reminding you to take it easy.
and…when you need it, he takes care of you in other ways, from time to time. it’s not like you’re seeing anyone else, not with a toddler on your shoulder. and it’s your right to ask him for something, he’s your baby daddy. why not ask the man who gave it to you so good in the first place?
he always knows what u want before you even ask, can see the way you look at him when he comes through the door, arms out and jorts so low you can see his happy trail. biting your lip at his stupid mustache, and his stupid hairy stomach, and his stupid hot arms. eyeing him up as he rocks the baby to sleep, talking low to you about work.
when he puts his girl down for a nap, shutting the door quietly he’s nudging you into your bedroom. “cmon, get on the bed. know what you want.” he closes the door soft behind him, already unbuttoning his pants as he watches you crawl on the mattress. you’re bare under your big shirt, it’s your house, you’re feeding, doing nothing with your baby all day. no real need for panties.
he’s got you on your back, legs hiked up over his shoulders as he plows into you, smirking along to your slew of moans. “fuckin love this pussy, this’s my pussy. all mine, yeah? not lettin anyone in this shit?” “never, never boyd promise,,” you’re so smitten by his cock you can’t help but submit to him, especially when he talks so low in your ear with that voice you like.
and he’s so fuckin possessive too. he has to be, you might not be his lady, but you’re the mother of his child. he’ll be damned if he lets you out his sight. “you better not have. better not let any dirty fucks round my daughter either, alright? i’ll fuckin’ kill em, you understand? say you understand momma.” he’s slapping at your ass, you’re so out of it that it inflicts a moan. “i-i understand, i understand i promise daddy ohmygod!” he ssooooo annoying oh my god
“yeah, they couldn’t fuck you like this anyway. careful, or i’ll give you another one.” one day Boyd won’t be so Sleazy.
Unhinged things Shawn Hatosy characters would do “for you” without consulting you first (MDNI, also tw for baby trapping)
Boyd Fowler would your name tattooed on his arm over the name of his last ex & get pissy when you don’t find it romantic (you do, but wtf man we’ve been together for two months)
Titus Danforth would pay for you to get a boudoir shoot done and keep a full nude of you in his wallet. That shit is also framed in his office, his screensaver, and his phones wallpaper
Jack Abbot would basically take over as your PCP (primary care physician), do breast exams, pussy inspections, etc. He’d also schedule you doctors appointments without asking you about your schedule (because he keeps your schedule in his google cal)
Sammy Bryant is replacing your bc pills with placebos after one single conversation about having kids. He also pulls your ex over randomly to harass him and give him bogus tickets
ik i was talking abt subby boyd fowler earlier but since @feverdreamimagination wrote this about him, i feel satiated, though now i instead have fucked up pathetic pervy boyd on the mind... this is a kidnapping stockholmy concept. very much dead dove. someone who’s a better writer than me could definitely make this into a proper fic but i’m just here for the ideas okay??
wc: 1.8k
cw ddne, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, voyeurism, somnoish stuff, very dubious consent, unsafe sex w regret after, stockholm syndrome speed run, boyd is real messed up… definitely in a different way than he is in canon but. yeah.
boyd had been surveilling you for months, memorizing your routines, who you talked to, what you ate. in his free time when he wasn’t tailing you in his truck, he was watching you through your windows, fisting his cock while he looked at you doing the most mundane things. if he got a glimpse of you changing or in a compromising position, it of course got him extra excited, but he didn’t even need it. he got hard just from watching you while you were completely oblivious to his existence.
eventually he started to get bolder, sneaking into your house while you were out to sniff your underwear, occasionally pocketing a few pairs to take home with him. while he was in your house he liked to do the things he saw you doing, sitting on the couch and watching the channel you usually put on, making the kind of sandwich he always saw you make, using your shower and washing himself with your shower products. it was like he could imagine that he was there with you, living side by side.
over time you started noticing strange things, like some of your underwear going missing and your food stocks seeming to deplete faster than usual, but you just chalked it up to being forgetful. you never could’ve anticipated the reality of the situation.
when boyd took you he had everything prepared. that night he had crushed a strong sedative into your water bottle, making sure you’d be in a deep sleep when he entered your room. he grabbed some of your clothes and what he knew were your favourite belongings and shoved them in a bag. he lifted your limp body from your bed and placed you into the passenger seat of his truck along with your things.
when you woke up in his attic you were in a panic. he understood your worries to an extent, but he tried to explain to you that it was going to be okay, that he had it all planned out. boyd stocked the cupboards with all of your favourite foods, filled the dresser with your clothes, made the bed nice and comfy for you and even placed some of your stuffed animals on top for you to sleep with (as he knew you did).
he of course had to dispose of your phone, but he gave you a tv and tons of board games and puzzles. he told you how he could stay and play games with you whenever he wasn’t working so you’d never be bored.
whenever you’d freak out and try to destroy everything, boyd would hold you tight, letting you scream, thrash around and hit him until you had no energy left. once you were done with your tantrum and entirely exhausted, he’d place you in the bed, cuddling up against you.
one time after one of those outbursts, you woke up to the bed shaking just to see boyd jerking off beside you, apparently turned on by staring at your sleeping body. “you’re disgusting.” you shot him a poisoned look before rolling over and pretending he wasn’t there.
“‘m sorry, didn’t wanna wake you. you just looked so perfect i couldn’t help it,” he breathed out, still pumping his cock fervently.
boyd didn’t often sleep with you, since you’d usually kick and scratch at him if he tried to get into the bed with you. that’s why he took advantage of the times that you were more subdued. when he did have the opportunity, he couldn’t help but to get turned on by being so close to you.
as time went on and you began to get more comfortable in your prison, despite yourself, you found that you sometimes even started to miss having him beside you in bed when he wasn’t there.
-
that night boyd had just brought up your laundry. he had to wash your clothes quite frequently since he kept stealing pieces after you’d worn them and taking them to his room, returning them to your hamper covered in his come.
you leaned back on the bed with your arms crossed, scowling at him from across the attic. you watched as he folded your clothes and placed them into the dresser drawers, “are you coming to bed or what?” you huffed.
“uhhh yeah… of course.” he finished putting away your clothes and jumped into bed with you before you could change your mind.
you let him spoon you as he seemed to always need to do, and tried your best to fall asleep. only about 30 seconds had gone by when you started to feel something poking you in the ass. “are you seriously already hard?” you hissed.
boyd shifted around behind you, “sorry,” he replied quietly.
“fucking pervert.” you kicked him in the leg.
you both laid there in silence for a while, but his boner did not seem to be letting up. you sighed, “whatever. just fuck me.”
boyd cleared his throat awkwardly, “can i? really?”
“god… yes, just do it. you do know how to fuck someone right?”
“yeah,” he whispered, “okay.” boyd reached around to pull your shorts and underwear down, running a finger over your slick folds. he breathed shakily, the air grazing your ear. he circled your clit with his finger a few times before bringing it down and slowly pressing it into your hole. he pushed his thick finger in and out a few times, stretching you out slightly before adding a second. you tried to avoid making any noises that would go to his head but you couldn’t help a quiet whimper escaping you.
the slick sounds of him fingering you seemed to fill the attic. boyd brought his face towards your neck, tentatively licking and kissing the sensitive skin while he pumped his fingers into you.
he squeezed his free hand under your waist and rubbed your clit with it while his other hand fucked you open. he recreated the movements he had seen you use on the rare occasion that he was able to catch a glimpse of you masturbating at home. clearly it was effective because soon enough you were shaking and crying, your facade of nonchalance completely falling apart.
“there we go,” he cooed, you could feel him smiling against you.
“y-you fucking bastard,” you whined as he brought you over the edge, “ohgod,” you clamped around his fingers, coating them in even more of your fluids.
boyd took both of his hands from you after you had ridden through your climax so he could use one to push down his boxers, and the other to stabilize himself. he hurried to line up his cock with your entrance before you could snap out of your post-orgasm haze. boyd pumped his length a few times in his hand to coat himself with your lubrication before he pressed inside with a moan. god you felt so much better than he had even imagined.
he began to drive into your wet heat, holding your hip in his hand and pulling you against him in time with his thrusts. you let out a strangled moan, your head flopping over against the pillow. boyd gently grabbed your head and pulled it back up, “hey hey, stay with me now,” he breathed out, beginning to kiss your neck again.
you whimpered like you were in agony, you wanted to hate him, you thought you did hate him, but you craved him and he felt so good inside of you. you craned your neck to look back at him, your big wet eyes betraying your true feelings. “oh sweetheart,” he cooed between thrusts, “does that feel good?”
you nodded, choking out an “mhm.”
“shhh, i’m gonna take care of you, just like i’ve always been meant to.” boyd leaned in to kiss you, capturing your lips in his and greedily licking into your mouth. it was the first time he had kissed you, at least while you were awake. the feeling was electric. being balls deep inside of you, kissing you, having you making the sweetest little noises into his lips? it was the best thing he’d ever experienced.
boyd continued to pound into you, relishing in how the impact of his movements made your body quake. eventually you broke the kiss and let your head fall against the pillow, though shortly afterwards you reached behind you to grab his hair in your hand, pulling his head back against your neck.
he was sad to not be kissing you anymore, though he understood that the position made it more difficult. at least you still wanted him close, pulling him into you like this… it’s like your body was finally giving in to him, even if your mind was still lagging behind by a bit.
“squeezin’ me so tight, fuck— honey, you were made for me.” boyd rocked into you, bottoming out each time. he let the hand on your hip run over your body, squeezing your tits, rubbing lightly over your face and then your lips, wanting to commit the feeling of every inch of you to his memory.
he let his hand dip down again, settling on top of your clit and rubbing it in lazy circles. you almost yelped at the feeling, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. “wanna give me another one?” boyd coaxed, the combination of his cock filling you up and his fingers on your clit was too much.
you whined, shaking your head, “n-no.”
“sweetheart i’ve seen you touch yourself, i know you like it like this. c’mon now, give me another,” he continued rubbing your clit while he drove into you, making you into a sobbing mess. soon enough you cried out, clenching around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth, your legs shaking wildly as you came.
“that’s a good girl,” he praised, taking the hand from your clit and returning it to your waist so he could hold you tight while he finished himself off. you were like jelly in his arms after your second orgasm, writhing around as he kept relentlessly pounding into you. god you were too cute, he needed to see you like this every night.
“shit, m’coming,” boyd groaned, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed deep inside of you. “mmmm,” he hummed, pulling out of you slowly. he stayed leaned against you, basking in the moment.
once you came back to reality you flopped onto your back, bringing a finger up to your hole and holding it up to look at it, to see the pearly white fluid on it. “fuck,” you cursed yourself, how could you let this happen?
boyd leaned in towards you, placing a hand on your thigh, “hey baby it’s okay, i’ll get you a plan b tomorrow and then we’ll get you on birth control. i know we’re not ready for a family, at least not quite yet.” he chuckled, squeezing your leg gently as if that was somehow reassuring.
I’m definitely gonna write him as submissive for right now, but if you want me to write him in a more dominant light, lmk.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Age gap(Reader is 22 and Boyd is 35), sub!Boyd, perv!Boyd, choking, riding, humiliation, degradation, alcohol and weed consumption, kinda a little intox kink? LMK if I've missed anything
1.8k words
This was such a spur-of-the-moment write, like I started this at 05:55 and it's now 16:30 as of posting. I'm so sorry if it's bad!!
Boyd was a strange guy, but he was your friend? Sort of? He was your neighbor, and you’d known him for a few years now since you moved to Miami. He was a bit standoffish at first, but after a few ‘Hellos’ and ‘How are yous’ and some beers shared, you two became close neighbourly friends. You noticed immediately he liked you, or at least the look of you. His eyes would constantly roam over your body when he thought you weren't looking. Lingering on your tits or ass when you wore tight-fitting clothes or tiny swimsuits. More than once, you’ve noticed him sporting a semi through his black work shorts after eyeing you for too long. Not that you minded, he was pretty sexy himself. Pretty brown eyes, a cute smile, gorgeous auburn curls, and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. One thing you had noticed, though, was him peeking into your bedroom window a few times. His bedroom window looked into yours, and every now and then, you’d see him standing there trying to get a look at you changing. So why not give him a little show here and there? Changing slowly, drying off seductively, applying lotion to your body that shimmers when it hits the light just right. You were driving him mad, and you knew it. He’d stand near the window, in his bedroom, jerking off to every show you performed for him. Bless him, he’d get so lightheaded and tingly from the explicitness of it all, panting like a dog as he got closer to his release, fucking his hand like a depraved man. He felt like a perv, watching you like this, but that added to the excitement and enjoyment for him.
Now here he was, sitting in your house, on your couch, on one of the hottest days of the summer, drinking beers and relaxing with you. You’d bought some weed and thought today was the perfect day to get lightly buzzed and tipsy with your stupidly hot neighbour. You were dressed in what can only be described as a piece of floss for a bikini top. It barely covered your tits and left nothing to the imagination, not that he needed an imagination to know what they looked like, definitely not after seeing them for the past few months through his window. Alongside that, you were wearing a pair of the shortest fucking lounge shorts to ever exist. You were a walking tease right now, and what didn’t help was how the prettiest sheen of sweat covered your body, making you look fucking perfect. Boyd was sporting a loose gym tank and a pair of loose gym shorts that hugged his ass beautifully. Every time he stood up to get more beer, your eyes would drift down the curve of his back and land on the most perfect ass you had ever seen on a man. You couldn't help the god-awful thoughts that ran through your head whenever he stood up. How you’d want to spank his ass red raw, leave handprint bruises on his cheeks, have him crying while you fucked him rough like the pathetic dog he is, how you’d ruin him to the point of him passing out from overstimulation. The thoughts were endless. Boyd noticed you checking out his ass, and he smirked a little. “Something caught your eye?” He asked in a playful tone as he made his way back with the beers. You nod with a playful smile of your own on your face. “Yeah, your perfect ass,” You say as you take a beer and pull him down onto the sofa again. He let out a huff and laughed as he lounged on the sofa, taking the joint from you and taking a long drag. You watched him with an almost intense gaze before climbing into his lap and smiling softly at him. “Shotgun with me.” You whisper as you steady your hands on his shoulders, knees trapping his hips, and your plush ass sitting right on his crotch. He looked at you like he was dreaming. You were sitting on his lap, face inches apart from his, so close he could feel your breath. He nodded obediently, causing a sly smile to grace your lips before he exhaled into your mouth. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, completely entranced in the moment. His hands rested on your hips as you inhaled his smoke before exhaling it back into his face with a soft smile on your lips. “You liked that, huh, baby.” You say in a teasing tone, shifting your hips, feeling his dick hardening through his shorts. Boyd nodded slowly, his eyes opening to look at you with a glazed-over look, “You're so pretty, Boyd. Look at you.” You say softly, your lips trailing down his neck slowly, letting them linger with each kiss. Boyd squirmed and whined pathetically at the feeling of your lips on his skin. His breath immediately quickening, his hips grinding up pathetically, looking for any type of friction. He was gone instantly, and he was right where he wanted to be.
You climbed off his lap and dragged him to your room, kissing him and feeling up every inch of his body you could. Your hands groped and smoothed over his ass, making his hips rut against you as you made your way to the bedroom. Once you were inside, clothes came flying off. You ragged his tank top over his head, shoving him hard back down against the bed before yanking his shorts and underwear off in one swift pull. Boyd yelped at the roughness but smiled almost blissfully at you. His face, neck, and chest were covered in a deep red flush, making him look even prettier than you’d ever seen him. “I know you watch me from your window, Boyd,” You say as you look him up and down from the end of the bed, watching how his cock twitches at your words. His chest rose and fell faster as he looked at you with a half pleading half teary eyed expression. “I’m going to undress myself, and I want you to touch yourself the way you do when you usually watch me.” Something in your voice made Boyd's stomach flip, and he nodded before he could think twice about it. His hand wrapped around his dick as you slowly took off your bikini top, pumping slowly at first, spreading the droplets of pre cum along his shaft. The bikini top fell to the floor, letting your tits spill out, and Boyd could have sworn he was gonna cum right then and there. Watching you grope and play with them made his head spin and go all fuzzy, not actually believing this is really happening. His hand fisted his cock hard and fast as he watched you slip off your shorts, revealing nothing underneath. “You look pathetic like this. Fucking your hand like some mutt who can’t control himself,” You goaded. Boyd's eyes rolled back at your words, his breathing turned ragged, and a pathetic moan broke free from his lips. “F-fuck, please! Come here,” He begged desperately, looking at you with those big, wet, brown eyes that made your heart melt. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and sliding your embarrassingly soaked cunt over his shaft. Slow, steady movements that drove him mad. His hands went to grip your hips, but you stopped him and pinned them to the pillows above his head. “Keep them there, or I’ll handcuff you.” You order as you look down into his eyes, giving him a stern look. He nodded obediently, though his cock twitched between your legs at the idea of you handcuffing him. You trail your hands down his body, feeling over the softness of him, enjoying how pliant and obedient he was being. Caressing and kissing over his freckled shoulders, sucking pretty red marks over his chest, reveling in the sweet whimpers and gasps he made whenever your tongue swiped over his sensitive nipples. After a bit of torture, in his mind, of you kissing and marking over his body, you finally decided to fuck him. “Tell me you want me,” You tease as you nudge his tip to your entrance. Boyd jerked his hips up, whining and panting like a kicked puppy, “Please! Wanna fuck you so bad…need to fuck you. Need to make you feel good. Wanna feel you cum on my cock. Please!” The sound of him begging like a desperate man sent shocks of arousal coursing through your body.
You coo at him in a soft voice as you sink painfully slowly onto him, taking him inch by inch until you’re flush with his hips. A sinful moan left your lips as he stretched you out, the slight burning sensation adding to the overwhelming feeling of him nestled inside you. The pained yet erotic noise that erupted from Boyd’s mouth was something close to pornographic. The strangled moan, the voice cracking, the pitiful cry, all of it made your velvet walls clench around him, squeezing his shaft deliciously. “O-oh…fuck! Ngh! Feels too good!” He gasped out, fighting for his life to keep his hands up above his head. Gripping at anything he can get his hands on- the headboard, the pillows- clasping his hands together like he’s praying to god. “That’s it, baby, god, you sound so pretty,” You moan breathlessly as you roll your hips, moving at the perfect pace that has Boyd’s eyes rolling back into his head. You work your hips slowly at first but soon pick up to a bed-shaking pace. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock while he watches you with a glazed over, pussy drunk expression. “You’re…god! Such a good mutt, Boyd!” You gasp out as you slam your hips against his with each movement, making your clit rub against his little pudge deliciously, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. “Perfect cock for me to use. Only fucking thing you’re good for, ain’t that right, baby?” You coo in a condescending tone as your hand comes to wrap around his throat, applying gentle pressure to his airway. Boyd’s body vibrates from your words and your tone and your hand. You notice how his knuckles are white as he grips the headboard, how his eyes flutter shut again, and how his cock twitches uncontrollably inside you. “Oh, you really are pathetic, aren’t you. Look at you going fucking limp like a doll the second my hand is around your throat. God, you’re such a disgusting perv, Boyd.” The feeling of everything hit him all at once like a freight train: the fact he’s tipsy and high, you’re choking him, and the things you’re saying to him. His body shakes and seizes as he cums hard inside you. Rutting his hips up so he’s as deep as he can get as he paints your walls white with his load. His orgasm triggers your own just from the sheer force, and you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm and milking his cock for everything he has. You’re both a panting, sticky, ruined mess, but neither of you cares as you lie on top of him, feeling his hand stroke your back soothingly.
Once again, I'm sorry if this is bad! It's very word-vomit-like and just something I wrote with a little prompt from a moot of mine.
꒰ ⟡ 𝒔𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : a roadkill retrieval leads boyd to fixate on a fawn-like young woman . 𝟤.𝟤𝗄 words .
꒰ ⟡ 𝒏𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 : purely self indulgent . he’s so pitiful nd i couldn’t help myself ᵎ this was also so fun to write :3
The day’s air was fierce and lain heavy, fevered within the heart of Miami. Boyd was accustomed to the swelter, to the solar fervor that slickened through his truck and left him sticky with his own perspiration. He was familiar with how the heat danced upon the pavement in stretches of road, the shimmers induced by the bent sun-rays that seemed to make the asphalt sparkle. What Boyd was not inured to, on this particular suffocating, sun-soaked afternoon, was the sight of you — a girl, streaming with tears beside the corpse of what he presumed was to be another disposal call.
During a usual roadkill removal, he would have just handily halted his bright, heinously yellow truck and flicked on his hazards. He would have sheathed on his gloves and shoveled up whatever bone-bared and bloodied carcass that lay strewn before it could sizzle onto the street. But not with you, sobbing in a small sundress, shelling out tears for an innocent animal that struck a car in a cursed second. To Boyd, it was a provocative sight. A sweet, fragile young woman, gentle enough to be teary-eyed with terror, all whilst bowed over in a tiny garment that twirled around your thighs. He could already feel his cock thickening in the confines of his camo cargo shorts.
Boyd swerved onto the shoulder of the road, his forehead sheened with sweat from below his ballcap. The gravel and dirt crunched below his boots as he beared away from his truck. Your big, sad eyes met the hazel ones beyond his glasses before they steered back to the defenseless, dead little doe. The chestnut-colored fur of the poor fawn was slick with crimson and coating the surface of the street as you sniffled at the sight.
“He died…” You acquiesce with solemnity. Boyd fights the urge to smile at your nescience of the situation. Instead, he nods with silent lament and saunters closer.
Your gaze turns to him, his form. His tan shirt, half unbuttoned in a crooked fit — loose on the abdomen, and taut over broad shoulders. Your eyes dip to the contrast of a pair of black rubber gloves that he is now retrieving from his pocket, and Boyd’s sin-stained thoughts prove substantiated in this instance — you’re ignorant of sanitation officers and their task of animal roadkill removal.
“A- are you gonna bury him?” Your lips tremble before they're innocently bitten with curiosity.
Boyd feels himself twitch, his balls growing tender with want. The straps of your sundress are slipped down, revealing your bikini top with a shimmer of sweat beneath it, and he's left salivating. He has to force his eyes to strip themselves back to the baby deer’s corpse.
“No... no, sweetheart. Imma shovel ‘im.” He sighs, pointing a thick finger to the ID that marks his chest. "It's my job.”
“Oh...” You nod once, before your body shivers in a hiccup. You can’t stop slickening your cheeks, leaving them puffed and flushed with emotion. You stumble on the road’s shoulder, your feet fidgeting as you try to sway out of his way. “I’m— I’m sorry, sir... he— he had been moving when I stopped. I felt–” Your throat cracks on another cry, and your body shudders at the mere acknowledgement, “I felt him stop breathing. Petted him.. as he passed.”
Boyd’s heart does sunder slightly. Your profession of such profound empathy seems to splice a few cells off his cardiac tissue. He sighs softly, frowning, his brows furrowing towards the deceased fawn’s form.
“You did a real kind thing… stayin’ with him like that.” His voice is smooth, and almost soothing to your tears. “Most people’ll jus’ drive along. But you got a real soft heart, don’tcha?” He smiles gently, his head tilting down towards yours.
“Was— was jus’ on m’way t’the beach and saw him dying a- alone and–” You make the mistake of boring down at the tiny carcass, and your blathering tapers off in a tiny blubbered sob.
Boyd finds himself hovering closer, and a sweat-soaked palm makes contact with your upper arm as he attempts solace. You tense, eyes glancing up to catch his mouth quirking up. “Hey— It’s okay, baby.”
Baby. The odd grip and petname perturbs you slightly. You attempt to not bristle at the stench of tuna that permeates through his breath, or how his touch beats into your flesh like boiled syrup — sticky with something thickened and steeped dark. You nod, stilling in his grip.
“...Yeah. S- sorry. I just... I feel sad.” You stammer out again, slipping away from him and attempting typical banter to avoid any brash behavior. He sees your apprehension, and only then does he shuffle away to grab his shovel.
He briefly imagines that were a normal man, he would’ve softened your sorrows with the press of his palm — but the sinister is already swathing over the sweet notion, and the sugar is drowned to the thought of your sobs if you were stretched and splintered on his cock instead. If you were to be smote with his shovel, shunted into his truck and sheltered, frightened, and his forever. Boyd is a sick fuck, and you’re just a sweet, delicate little doe. He knows that. It’s a blissful and bruising comparison to how fate has spawned his introduction to your innocuous form. You’re simply prey, about to be spattered and split open like the roadkill he removes from the street.
“Yea..” Boyd settles on a sigh when he strides back, staring down at your sandals before pivoting the metal to scrape beneath the corpse. “Poor fella. ‘Lil Bambi.” He murmurs, his mustache twitching as he tries not to smirk at your sniffle. He’s already planning to stalk you when he steers away to toss the carcass into his trunk.
You don’t stay; instead, stepping back towards your car, stealing one last look at the stain that lies upon the street. You attempt to not dwell on the way you can still feel his sweat that clings to your arm. Slimy and unsavory, you scrunch your nose at the sensation. For a moment, you steel yourself before continuing your traverse to the sea. His seediness has stowed away your sadness; your emotions have turned to discontent and timidity when you finally peel away. It’s unbeknownst to you that Boyd has scrawled your license plate down on a piece of scratch paper. You’re unaware of his truck, which, although miles off and nearly out of sight, still maunders in surveillance until your vehicle approaches the shoreline. He passes by the parking lot. There’s no reason to pull in when he’s already preparing himself to pry through your window when the evening ensues.
The day comes to a close when the sky bleeds bright. The Floridian night envelops like sticky nectar; the swelter has turned sweet with the breeze, and Miami’s horizon is streaked lurid in the mango-swirled clouds of sunset. The heat unfurls within the cooling air when Boyd finds himself stalking you down. In a few strokes of his keyboard, your personal details were produced from the letters and numbers of your plate. The white pages and data broker sites blessed Boyd with direct information all about his new little fawn. He’s enlightened by your full name, and enamoured by such basic intel: your age, your address, and who abides alongside you— and, by the stars’ favor, he’s delighted to discover that you’re living all on your lonesome.
The painted sky soon dissolves, and the darkness is now able to conceal his determination and derangements. Boyd discreetly parks a distance away to properly dip into the bushes beside your small bungalow without notice. And fuck, he can already see you in the honey-soft shimmer of lamplight. You’re in what he deems to be a scandalous, lacy little slip, scooping ice cream into a dish on this summer-heated evening. You just happen to be woefully unperceptive to the pervert that peers past your windowpane.
You lick the spoon of its sweet cream, and Boyd finds the sight to be purely salacious when you incidentally stain your chin with a sheen of white. He’s forced to shove his fist against his mouth, biting it before he moans involuntarily. His beady gaze follows how your hips sway, crossing the room to sit on the couch and pressing play on some television program. The colors of the screen spire over your face in the safety of your home, slipping spoonful after spoonful into the wet expanse of your mouth. It’s an entirely simple, painfully innocent sight – but not for the sick, paltry excuse of the man that stands outside your house, sexualizing every swallow of your throat. Boyd wonders if your soft pussy is slick right now. He wonders how you taste, how tight you’d be on his girth; how you would probably attempt to fight him off if he shattered the glass of the window and forced himself inside. How frightened would you actually be? Would the terror cause your tight little cunt to clamp up? Would he be able to make you cum? The sickness sears in his gut further and makes him leak into his boxers.
Boyd is well aware of his blight. His rancidity. It’s unveiled in fresh spoils, blooming similarly to the freckles that seep through his flesh. He’s diseased like prion, and it’s nestled deep within the fissures of his brain. He’s ruin and rot, degeneracy personified, peering through the glass panel as his dick swells up.
In an accidental spill, a few drips of ice cream begin slickening down your chest, pooling down your sternum and staining under your gown. Your fingertips gather at the sweetness between your breasts, and it’s the final catalyst for Boyd to shove his free hand down his shorts and clamber his cock out. His chubbed cheeks are blushed hot with shame and sheer desperation. He’s entirely diseased in such debauchery, and his slit is already drooling precum at the view of the pretty and precious young girl that he’s now stalked. He swipes his pleading, red and puffy tip, and his hips twitch, his bottom lip catching between his teeth at his own touch. He recalls how soft your skin was against his palm, how somberly you’d spoken to him. He can't help but think of you as so alike to that sweet fawn – myopic to the malvolence of nature. Of the massacres humanity introduces onto unsuspecting, kind little creatures.
“My— mmh! My Bambi…” Boyd pitifully whines into his hand gripping the base of his wet cock, beginning to stroke his throbbing length to the sight of you, his sultry, darling doe. The veins of him already protrude, pulsing with blood as the burning in his belly swirls down to his balls. He has been hardening for you since he’d first seen you wistful on the wayside, and he’s been anticipating his orgasm nearly all day. He squeezes his dick in a sharp seize, feeling the spike of heat that shoots up his spine. His knees shake and his shoulders tense. Sweat trickles down his forehead, soaking the sides of his glasses. Boyd pants, the jerks of his fist getting harder, forcing his heavy balls to slap up with every rough, stinging tug he holds on his tender flesh. The friction of his palm and the fabric of his shorts that sticks to his sack makes his tip slicken further, faster, before the heat curls and hikes up his cock.
“Baby– m’baby… F— fuck! He pants, pathetic with perversion before his balls tense. His cheeks tinge red hot, and with heaved breaths and a final stroke, his slit begins to spurt out hot, thick streams of semen against his hand. It stains warm and wet on his shirt and shorts, before dripping into the grass below. Boyd is left gasping into his palm, and the spurts of his pleasure are streaked onto his skin. He then begins to smear himself below the windowsill to clean the slick off, his cum now coating the side of your house.
He can smell the pungency of his own perspiration and musked orgasm. It corrodes his senses like the putrefaction of the dead and decomposed that he’s seasoned to handle. His mouth is parted with pure bliss, his mustache damp with his own saliva as staring eyes remain fixed on your cozy, couch-clad form. His regular roadkill pickup today has raged itself into rapacity. An obsession, and a craving for an endearing, yet now endangered, creature as yourself. You’ve cracked the cowardly, confidence-lacking man open. His recollection of your cries protrude his eardrums like a caress, a console. Your teary eyes are embedded into the forefronts of his skull, burned behind his corneas to carry him back to your first encounter.
Boyd whines out as he touches his tender, now softening cock, into oversensitivity, prodding at his pink tip before fumbling his length away back into his cum-stained shorts. There's no doubt that he will return to collect information on your routines whilst rutting his fist until he cums. For the foreseeable future, he will conduct his surveillance until he is able to strike and sequester a sweet, little Bambi for himself.
