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“—I’m gonna go get us a drink, okay?” OLIVER QUEEN talks you through it, gracefully pulling you aside in this grandiose party after a minor incident where you forgot your table manners in the company of powerful businessmen. Large, warm hands cup your bare shoulders, and you realize you’re a little chilly in the dress he picked out for you. “Just wait here-“ he glances to the side before leaning in, whispering to you like a secret: “and, uh, don’t talk to anybody,” He shakes his head as he instructs you, and you feel small under his gaze… and a little hot. “okay?” he confirms, and you nod your head knowingly while he excuses himself to grab those drinks. You suck your teeth as you watch him walk away, somewhat embarrassed that in your first few dates with Ollie you managed to alienate him from his peers. However, he doesn’t seem too concerned. On the contrary, he feeds you champagne flute after champagne flute—but you don’t figure out why until he’s managed to charm you out of the room. “It’s a lot safer for you out here, isn’t it, duchess?” he asks heatedly, knowing you can’t answer while you’re practically running a fever from the alcohol. He mouths skillfully at your pulse point, and your knees buckle, using the wall behind you as support. Your fingers twist into his Armani suit, drawing him closer to you like you can’t get enough. His thigh wedges between your legs, an impressive feat when you found this gown to be restrictingly skin-tight. An eager hand bunches up in the fabric, and hikes it up so the cut in your skirt allows you to stretch out some more. The way you tuck him between your thighs is obscene at a party like this, if anyone were to walk out of the lobby and see you, there would be no question as to what you and the bachelor of Star City are about to get up to. Your hair against the wall comes undone, and his fingers seek out the zipper of your dress behind you. “Can’t run that mouth, but you can do something else for me, can’t you?”
Pairing: Benjamin “Dex” Poindexter/Bullseye x Reader
Summary: After the events in New York, you and Dex go on the run.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI: Swearing, Smut!! Unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Dex being Dex, Possessive!Dex, Just two weirdos being absolutely obsessed with each other, Like this man is down bad, Please let me know if I forgot anything!
Author's Note: This was supposed to be so much shorter than it ended up being, but then it morphed itself into smut. Whoopsie daisy
This is an epilogue to Folie a Deux, but it can definitely be read as a stand alone! Enjoy!
Word Count: 3.2k
-
“You know,” you hum, eyeing the ticket in your hands. Dex hums back, one arm holding your bag over his shoulder and the other around your middle, a casual, possessive touch even surrounded by the anonymous bustle of the airport, “I’m definitely picking the aliases next time. I think Mr. and Mrs. Smith was a little too on the nose.”
He chuckles, low and warm, and doesn’t break his stride as he leans down to press a kiss to your temple. “Common name.”
“There’s like, a whole movie about how bad of an idea this name is to use with our current status.”
“What movie?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Smith?”
“Sounds pretty on the nose.”
“See, you do this. I genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with me sometimes.”
You look up, and he smirks. Raises an eyebrow.
“That face isn’t helping.”
“You think I’m being funny?”
“Now I do.”
“You’re in a mood.”
“And you’re laughing at me about it. I can see it in your eyebrows.”
His smile grows, and he leans down to press a kiss to your nose. You scrunch it up, and your frown deepens.
He does laugh now, seemingly delighted by your grumpiness, and catches your chin to turn your face toward his. He leans down again, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your nose again. Your other cheek. Your jaw. Over and over until you’re losing the fight with a smile of your own. You don’t have much of a problem with PDA, but Dex seems to genuinely enjoy it. Even before, before he became Bullseye and went to prison and lost the rest of his fucking mind, he was never averse to sliding an arm around you when you waited in line for coffee, or pressing a kiss to the side of your head as you walked down the street together.
Now, crazier and bolder and so much less worried about how the world sees him, the asshole pulls back with a squeeze to your ass that has you squeaking in surprise.
“Sleep on the plane.” He hums, hiking your bag up a little higher over his shoulder.
You do your best to puff your protest, to roll your eyes, but you’re still blushing.
“I don’t need sleep.”
“You’re only mad at me when you’re tired.” He looks down, raises an eyebrow. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m irritated with you. Stop doing the eyebrow thing.”
His low chuckle, despite your irritation, settles itself in your bones like a warm embrace. Fuck, you love him. It would be so much easier to be pissy with him if you didn’t love him so much.
“You’re still laughing at me.” You try, in a final weak attempt to to a grump.
He squeezes your side, unbothered as can be. “Sleep on the plane, baby.”
-
You fall asleep before the plane even takes off, and wake up when you land.
And, true to his word and his obsessive knowledge of every mood you’ve ever been in, you’re happier than ever when you depart from the airport and begin the long, winding drive to your new temporary home.
When the two of you decided on where to go, you picked somewhere warm. Somewhere by the water. Somewhere, obviously, as secluded as possible from the outside world. And, thanks to your skills and a bit of Dex’s input, you managed to secure a small cabin on the beach in a tropical country right smack-dab in the middle of nowhere.
It’s night when you finally pull into the overgrown driveway, the hum of the jungle foreign and heavy around you.
Dex brings the bags inside, and you sit in the car for an extra few moments despite the ache in your bones from all of the travel. One more wire transfer, one more sweep of everything to make sure the two of you are completely off the grid, and a full shut down of your portable WiFi, and…
As if by some second instinct, Dex pulls the car door open just as you’re closing your computer.
“Home sweet home.” He hums, already reaching for you like the ten minutes of separation was a personal offense. You smile, hopping out of the passenger seat and sliding your fingers up through his cropped hair. He leans into your touch, like always, and looks down at you through like you’re the only other person in the world. Like always.
“Perimeter swept? No giant spiders?”
His smile widens, and he rests his forehead comfortably against your own. “None I couldn’t handle.”
“Sounds promising.”
And, with that, you let him lead you into your new home.
To your surprise, candles are strewn about the room, casting a steady glow on the simple bed in the center. You can hear the ocean. Hell, you can see it through the curtains, reflecting moonlight off the waves.
You suppose being on the lam isn’t so bad, after all.
“What, no rose petals?” You joke, turning to Dex only to find the spot behind you completely empty.
Your brow furrows, and you call his name into the silence of the little cabin. Nothing.
Immediately, your mind goes to the worst case scenario. He’s been taken. Snatched away from you in the span of a second and now he’s bleeding out again somewhere you’ll never find and-
You feel something whiz past your arm. One of the candles snuffs out, plunging one corner of the room into darkness.
You blink, and narrow your eyes a little. “Dex?”
Another candle goes out, the soft whoosh of whatever is being thrown sputtering out the flame. This time, as realization dawns on you, you feel a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.
Another candle. Another. Two more in quick succession.
The room is cast in a low, hazy glow. One candle remains standing, flickering in the now too-low light of the room.
Your eyes scan the room again, finding nothing but shadow, and the last candle snuffs out and plunges the room into darkness.
You can feel his presence nearby, but you still can’t see him. A predator hunting prey. It sends a thrill through you, and you smile a little wider.
Carefully, you turn, trying to find his silhouette in the moonlight. You still see nothing, and wonder just how far he’s planning to take this little game, when you suddenly feel the prickle of warm breath against the column of your throat.
His hand slides down over your arm. His lips brush your neck, and you lean back against him as he slides his fingers over yours and turns you towards him.
“What was that about?” You murmur, distracted by the warm kisses trailing over your skin, the calloused fingers curling through your own.
“Romance.” He murmurs, and you laugh.
“Usually, the candles stay lit for romance.”
“Can’t throw fire, baby. I can just put ‘em out.”
“What other skills are you planning to show off tonight, Bullseye?”
His chuckle is low and warm, and in a second you’re lifted off of your feet and tossed through the air, bouncing on what you can only assume is the dead center of the mattress. You land with a delighted laugh, and feel his presence at the edge of the bed, large hands sliding reverently up over your thighs until he reaches the button of your jeans. He undoes them in one smooth twitch of his fingers, and then pulls the hem of your shirt up so he can press a slow, warm kiss to your stomach at the same time he slides them down over your legs.
He always undresses you like he hasn’t a thousand times before. Like it’s the first time, every time. You hear his breath catch as he pulls your shirt over your head, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing, and his mouth trails over every inch of skin he can reach until you’re tangling your fingers in his hair to drag him up to kiss you.
“All mine.” He whispers against your lips, large body enveloping yours. “North Star.”
You arch into him, every molecule in your body begging to be closer to his. You pull at his t-shirt until he removes it, then his pants, until you’re both completely bare, nothing between you but the barest whisper of warm tropical air and the sound of the waves crashing on the beach.
This doesn’t feel like running. This feels like finally being home. Like you’re the only two people in the entire world, and everything that nearly ripped you away from each other before will never be able to find you again.
He has your leg hooked over his shoulder, large fingers digging into the skin of your thigh as he trails his mouth down over your calf, bites at the inside of your knee so sharply you yelp, and chuckles when you huff and squirm in irritation.
“Stay still, baby.” He chastises gently, grinning wide as he nuzzles his nose against the inside of your thigh. You’re about to make some kind of comment, when the distant shriek of a tropical bird outside cuts you off.
“That was loud.” You observe, curious. You’re used to the white noise of the city. To traffic honking at three in the morning and shouting from the street. This new environment might just take some getting used to.
Dex seems completely unfazed, barely bothering to remove his mouth from your skin. “You’ll be louder.”
You roll your eyes, and try to fight a smile as his lips finally reach their intended destination. “Someone’s feeling cocky toni- oh my God.”
He hums, raising an eyebrow up at you, and his smirk would make you roll your eyes again if you still had the ability to form a coherent thought.
He takes you apart like the act his his personal favorite pastime, blue eyes falling closed like he’s in fucking heaven. You tangle your fingers in his hair, head rolling back against the pillows as your free hand flies up to instinctively cover your mouth.
His own hand shoots out, catching it with perfect accuracy and pressing it firmly down into the sheets beside you.
“Louder.” He growls, doubling his efforts, and it takes no time at all for you fall apart with a cry of his name, thighs squeezing either side of his head so tightly that his groan of approval vibrates through your entire body.
As you fall back to earth, he crawls atop you, a mountain of a silhouette in the darkness of the room, and when you reach up to cradle his face in your hands he turns to press a kiss to the heel of your palm.
“That’s one.” He murmurs, and you can feel the curve of his smile against your skin.
You smile back, and hook your leg around his hip, flipping him onto his back and straddling his hips between your still-shaky legs.
“Fuck.” He breathes, dropping his head back and sliding rough palms up over your thighs, gripping your hips tightly enough that you hope he leaves bruises. “You’re an angel.”
“I definitely don’t fit that description.” You hum, leaning down to brush your lips over his. He chases your kiss, and you pull back, leaning down instead to nip playfully at the underside of his jaw. “Totally your fault, by the way.”
“Corruption looks good on you, baby.” He rasps, fingers trailing up your sides and making you shiver. “You gonna cuff me again?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You see the glint of his teeth, pearly white in the moonlight as he grins up at you. His hands grip your hips a little more tightly, lifting you up as effortlessly as if you weigh nothing, and you gasp as he sinks you back down onto him with that same downright inhuman precision.
“Fuck.” It’s your turn to breathe the word, fingers curling against his biceps as he starts to move you against him, guiding your body atop his in a way that already has him hitting that perfect spot with every slow movement.
“Not an angel,” he murmurs, voice already rough and strained, “but you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”
You whimper, leaning down to capture his lips with your own, and he growls into your mouth before he flips you onto your back, sliding one hand into your hair as the other hooks your leg around his waist.
“Mine.” He growls, low, and you fucking love when he gets like this. When he makes every movement a challenge to himself to see how good he can make you feel. When he looks at you like you’re the only other person in the world. “All mine.”
You nod your agreement, and you’re already so far gone it’s almost ridiculous. You grasp at his biceps, nails digging into his skin before you drag them up to his hair and yank him down to kiss him so desperately you can’t remember how to breathe right.
He angles his hips just right, speeding up his movements until your entire body is trembling with need. He doesn’t look away from your face, not for a second, and as you feel the edge approaching fast as you lean up to gasp into his mouth, nails digging deep into whatever part of him you can reach.
“Mine.” Another rough thrust has you choking on air, but you stil grip him closer. “You’re mine.”
He groans, and grabs your hands to slam them into the mattress above your head.
“Give it to me.” He whispers, burying his face in your neck as your eyes flutter closed. “Let me feel it.”
You fall to fucking pieces, crying out his name and digging your heel into his back as you try to remember how to breathe.
He moans, low and wrecked and downright starved, and digs his teeth into your shoulder. His movements slow, just a bit, but he doesn’t stop. You gasp, and squirm beneath him, and he angles himself to hit that perfect spot again until it’s too overwhelming. Too much.
“Oh God,” you whimper, and he pulls back just enough to grin at you, dropping down to catch your lip between his teeth as he starts to move faster. You gasp again, and you might even try to push him off at the overstimulation if he didn’t still have you pinned beneath him.
“Dex.” It’s a plea, a desperate gasp, and he nods as his fingers lock even more tightly around your wrists.
“Again.” It’s a command, but it’s still too fast. Too much too quickly. You don’t know if you fucking can.
“P-please.” You breathe, and he bites harder at your skin, possessive.
“Again. You can. I know you can.”
“I…I’m- oh, fuck. Please.”
One hand releases your wrists, dragging down your body until you feel his fingers working between you in time with his thrusts and you can’t think you can’t breathe you need-
“That’s right.” His mouth moves up, and he bites at the shell of your ear, and your toes curl as your heart threatens to beat its way out of your chest. “Scream for me.”
And you do.
It takes you both a good while to come back to yourselves, with you trying to catch your breath and ease the shaking in your legs and Dex trailing slow, mindless kisses over your marked skin.
“I’m yours.” He murmurs, so quiet you almost don’t even hear it, and you smile as you nudge the top of his head with your nose until he leans up to kiss you again.
Your fingers trail through his hair, the blond strands soft between your fingers, and you smile.
“You’re mine.” You confirm, and he makes a noise like a helpless whimper against your lips, like his love is so overwhelming that it might break him. “And I’m yours.”
-
When you wake, it’a to early morning sunlight and the trills of tropical birds. Waves crashing on the beach nearby. Dex’s arms wrapped tightly around you, and the warm skin of his bare chest against your cheek.
You move to snuggle closer, but when you lift your hand to wrap your arm around him something glints in the quiet light of dawn.
There’s a ring on your finger. A simple, beautiful diamond ring. When you look closer, you see that it’s tinted blue.
“Dex?” Your voice is hoarse with sleep, and his eyes are still closed, but you see his lips twitch upwards in a small smile. He’s pretending to be asleep. He does that, sometimes, as odd as it is. You don’t know if he thinks it’s funny, or if he’s trying to find an excuse to watch you sleep that he doesn’t need, but you’ve always found that particular quirk to be one of his strangest.
“I know you’re awake, psycho.” You accuse, and his smile grows as he tugs you closer and buries his nose in the hollow of your throat, sliding his knee between yours and rolling atop you. You wiggle beneath the mountain of muscle, and he just holds you tighter as he lets out a loud, exaggerated snore that vibrates from his chest into yours.
“Dex.” You pat at his broad back, the ring catching the light and glistening blue once again. “How long have I been wearing this?”
He rolls again, and you squeak in surprise as you now find yourself sitting atop him, hands braced on his chest as his own hold you in place by your hips. He’s still smiling, wide and bright and more than a little mischievous. “Do you like it?”
You think back to last night. To Dex snuffing out the candles, one by one. To the completely darkened room, and the way his fingers had slid over your own as he’d turned you in his arms. Such a simple touch, you never would have thought twice about it. And afterward, there wasn’t exactly a moment you were in your right mind enough to notice anything other than him.
You’ve been wearing this ring for the entire night, and you had no idea.
You look down at the diamond, and back up to his face. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“We’re already married.” He says easily, shifting to sit up against the headboard with you still straddling his lap, one ridiculously muscled bicep resting comfortably behind his head. “I’m just asking you to wear the ring.”
Something swells in your heart, big and warm and light. “It’s gonna be pretty hard to get a marriage license while we’re on the run, and using fake names.”
“Don’t need one.” His hand leaves your waist, sliding down over your arm to play almost absentmindedly with the fingers of your left hand, eyes locked on the ring. “And for the rest of it, I’m not above bribing a priest.”
You just stare at him for a moment, truly and completely shocked, before you start laughing.
“That’s a yes.” He confirms, clearly proud of himself as he tugs you to him and cuts off your laugh with the press of his lips against your own.
Your words are muffled by his kiss, fingers sliding up to tangle in his hair as you nod. “That’s a yes.”
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — Dex has had a clear view of you through your window for a while now
‼️ 𝐂𝐖: Stalking, masterbating (f&m)
—NURSE!READER—AFAB/FEM!READER—
Dex sat on his bed, his binoculars up against his face as he looked through them, staring directly at the window of the apartment across from his. Your apartment.
The routine had began months ago, before you’d ever even noticed him. One day when he helped you pick up your ID you’d dropped, you smiled at him, you were sweet and it got him hooked immediately.
After that he started watching you. Just to make sure you were okay. To check in on you after your 12 hour shifts in the ER. He wanted to make sure you got some food, enough sleep, and best case scenario: a nice warm shower where he’d get the view of seeing you change.
It was all good intentions, especially when he was making sure you weren’t seeing anybody else after him.
What happened was, he’d “bumped” into you again a few weeks after your first interaction. A total coincidence, and you recognized him which made him so happy. He offered to buy you some coffee and thats how you two started talking.
You exchanged numbers with him and texted for the next few weeks, seeing each other for other small coffee dates in between. And then one day he got the confidence to actually ask you out to dinner, and to his relief, you happily accepted.
That night had gone so perfectly. Sure Dex hit a few bumps on the road— awkward pauses and not knowing what to say next—but you had found it cute which made everything okay. Then, after dinner he’d walked you back to your place like the gentleman he is.
And being a gentleman worked out for him amazingly because you kissed him. Several times, which led to the two of you stumbling into your bed, your clothes in a pile on your bedroom floor, and a happy Dex waking up the next morning beside you.
You still texted, just a little less now, which Dex noticed immediately. So now, for the past two weeks he’s been more attentive.
As soon as he’d get home he’d be on patrol, waiting to see you through your window (its just so convenient that you have sheer enough curtains for him to see through)
But now, right now you’d just come into your bedroom, practically ripping off your scrubs like they were disgusting as you entered your bathroom. When you came back out you were in your towel, sitting on your bed as you put lotion on before flopping back like you were contemplating whether putting clothes even seemed worth it.
Perfect. You weren’t seeing any other men. That solved one question he had but it didn’t explain why you’ve been dryer now. What could Dex possibly have done or said that made your replies so slow? (not that slow but to dex theyre sloth speed)
Meanwhile you felt horrible, opening your messages everyday to see Dex still being so kind to you with his good morning texts. It’d just been a long two weeks, too many people in weird emergencies and not enough time for you to check your phone.
You picked up your phone and opened your messages again, and of course there it was, the most recent text: from dex.
—Good morning
—have a good day
—talk later?
You typed a quick sorry, then:
—maybe later?
—I’m really tired
You tossed your phone beside you and finally sat up again, reaching into your drawer and grabbing the t-shirt you’d left in the morning so you wouldn’t have to go around your room scavenging for something comfortable to sleep in.
You barely put it on when your ohone dinged with a new notification
—yeah, absolutely, get some rest
He’s so sweet.
The last talking stage you’d had had ended because you “worked too much” and wouldn’t text him back in a timely manner. So to say the least: Dex was the most perfect man you’d ever met.
And he was amazing in bed, really, 10/10. He didn’t last two minutes and he actually gave you sex, not a simple fuck. Enough praise and kissing to make you see stars on its own. So amazing in fact that you’d kept thinking back to it, like right now, as you reached down under the big shirt you’d thrown on and slowly rubbed your clit, thinking about the groan Dex let out upon entry.
Dex could feel his pants getting tighter as he watched you drop your phone beside you and slowly finger yourself while moaning his name. He was experiencing some kind of high listening in through the mic he’d hid in your bedroom all those nights ago.
He used one hand to hold up his binoculars while the other one made quick work of undoing his pants and stroking himself.
notes: this was very random and self indulgent bc i was listening to She by Tyler, the creator and Frank Ocean but hopefully someone likes it!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
dex needs constant reassurance during sex. he could be pounding into you, making you see stars with his cock, and he would still be asking you if he's doing okay.
"am i- is this okay? baby, tell me m'good-- please" he's whining muffled words into the crook of your neck as his tip slams against your g-spot repeatedly, enough to have you clawing at his back, leaving angry red marks on his skin.
he's focused solely on your pleasure, he gets off when you get off. so when you're too fucked-out to reply to him, he's panicking. he doesn't understand that he's making you feel so good to the point where you can't form a coherent sentence.
"is it not good? oh god- do y'not like it?" he tends to spiral, so you have to talk in order to keep him going. "i-it's good, dex-- fuck!-- feels s'good" your fingers card through his hair, tugging at the blonde strands, which earns you a choked whimper.
"y-yeah?" he moans out whorishly, his breath hot against your neck. he's desperately trying to keep his pace from faltering. "tell me- can you tell me y'love me? p-please?" he snakes his hand down between both of your sweaty bodies and rubs tight circles on your clit, causing you cry out and arch into him further as pleasure shoots through your limbs. "love you!" you mewl, the only thing you can say when he's making you feel like this.
your orgasm crashes over you with his name lingering on your tongue, your pussy clenching and fluttering around him obscenely. he finishes directly after you, he was only holding off because he always makes sure you cum first. he doesn't want to be selfish, after all.
he collapses on top of you, practically panting. his cock is still sitting inside of you, his warm release settling. he'd probably never admit it, but your words of praise are his favorite part of sex.
⋆˚࿔ SUMMARY dex has a hard time separating dreams from reality, worsening only when he indulged in you.
⋆˚࿔ NOTES sorry for the delay gang, 75 hard is kicking my ass.
dex struggled with his dreams. they were so vivid—so real. his mind held onto his favourite things far too tight, squeezing the life from it and draining it into a husk. until all that stared back at him was emptiness, the very prominent feeling of emptiness. so he learnt to push things away, not because he didn't want them. but because he feared caring for these things too deeply. and watching it vanish as everything else did in his life.
you were no exception, at first. you were just the sweet girl he would run alongside at a stupidly early hour. the two of you avoiding the world around you, except for each other. he didn't mean to make a friend of you, you had done most of the heavy lifting in your conversations. you invited him to coffee, he shuffled closer to you in the movie theatre as a way to repay your sweetest affection, he walked you home after every day spent together.
that heavy feeling sat in his chest, the poison in his ears telling him to "just kiss her", "just invite her in", "just ask her out". every urge telling him to be selfish, curb that craving he felt, settle his sleepless mind and satiate that yearning for you.
and he would wish he never did.
having you beside him felt great. it gave him undeniable purpose, a reason to get out of bed and tuck his sheets in. because no matter what the day threw at him, no matter how shaky his mind felt, he would return home to you. taking space in his own, smiling back at him as if you could hear the voice in his head and loved him anyway.
you would let him lay against your chest of an evening, your body beneath his on the couch as you both pretended to watch the movie you spent an hour choosing. you were fighting your eyelids to stay awake, your fingers occasionally halting in their trails along his scalp before jolting yourself awake and resuming. but dex laid awake, your heart pressed against his ear, the rhythmic beat matching his own. his jaw loosened, his shoulders dropped, that ache in his back ceased.
his problems, his fears, they all disappeared when he had you caged between him and whatever soft surface you deemed appropriate. but nothing had ever gone swimmingly in his lifetime, not for long anyway. his mind drip fed him venom, which would cling to his lungs all day.
"dex," you frowned, reaching a hand over the kitchen table to grab his, "you okay, sweetheart?"
he was now, you had pulled him from the mist of blue smoke back to the bubble you both resided in. but it would always be there, and it would be whenever he stared at you for too long. feeling gratitude for his North Star had always ended in feeling fear, dangling from a ledge to always remind him how much he had to lose.
"yeah," he choked, raising his brows at you with a forced smile, "i'm okay. just thinkin' 'bout you."
and you never pushed. you took his word for it, letting him practice grounding himself. but you never let him stray too far, to a place he wouldn't come back from. in some weird way, that's why you worked so well. you knew you were dex's salvation, he whispered it to you once when he thought you were still asleep. but you knew he was an adult, a capable one at that, and could learn to ground himself. for the most part.
the nightmares begun after a week of losing you to late nights at work. he would sit on the couch in silence, his mind too loud to watch tv or read a book. until you would slump through the door and sit in the dark with him, eating leftovers in silence.
his nightmares translated into his real life. dreaming of coming home to a wrecked apartment, following a North Star into turning new york upside down just to find you. dreaming of chasing after you as you ran away from him in total fear.
he clung to you, moreso than usual. like a lovesick puppy at your feet, asking to shower with you, come with you on your errands, begging to spend more time inside you. he would purposely hold out on coming inside you because he needed the connection just a moment longer.
"dex." your voice came like a siren call, always accompanied by a hand on his cheek. looking over at him like he was a vase made of broken parts. "you know i love you, right? more than words can say."
"course, i do." he tried playing it cool, a shrug, a quick glance away, a cocky performance to hide his bleeding heart. "and i love you. i'd kill for you."
you always giggled at that comment, though it was entirely true. he would kill anyone without hesitation for you. he would make the journey of odysseus if it meant you were waiting for him. there were not yet scientific explanations for the way you sat between his ribs, commanding his every action. good or bad.
the nightmares had reached their peak when he donned his bullseye attire, playing the hero and killing the bad guys. until he'd lost himself in that damned blue smoke once more, fighting through it to find you curled on the floor. so pretty as you always had been, hair sprawled over his thighs as he cradled you. his sharpened knife stuck in your sternum. blood pooling around the metal, trailing down the sides of you.
it felt real. so real. your necklace with the black rope and red pendant sat just above the blade, the necklace he bought you when you wouldn't stop staring at it online. your blue nails, the ones you had painted last week that you used his bicep as a background for. it had to be real, didn't it? had you finally realised who he was? had you stumbled upon his nightly activities when you were passed out in bed? was it all over?
startling himself awake was an uphill fight, and he made a silent vow to listen to matt's words of gospel more often. because if god was real, and had brought him out of his mind, or brought you back to him. he was worth believing in. he clung to you like the room was blanketed in snow, limbs shivering even with the sweat that glazed them.
"dex." you mumbled.
your voice. you were here, his name on your tongue could be his salvation alone.
"dex." you repeated. "what's going on? are you okay?"
you tried to sit up, but he twisted your body to face his. his hands cradling your face because you were here, this was real. you were real. he didn't need to speak a word, his glistening skin and shallow breathing spoke for him. and you needn't give it a response, just pulling his head into your chest as he listened for your heart. to match his own. proof you were alive and with him, choosing him, blissfully unaware of the mask and knives that were buried in the safe behind the closet.
“you like that, don’t you?” the rasp in his voice mixed with the way he grinds his hips down slowly, cock stretching you out perfectly, causes your eyelids to flutter closed and your nails to sink into the skin of his hip with each thrust. “like feelin’ how deep i am, honey?” teeth nip at your ear, one of his hands pressed down on your back, keeping you pinned down on the bed while the other rests beside your head. “yeah, you do, just look at you.”
you try to reply but with how his hand presses down on your lower back again, your eyes roll back and your lips part with a choked moan at the deep stretch of his cock pressing deeper into your cunt, walls fluttering around him. “that’s it, let me in, honey.” he cooes into the shell of your ear.
beyond the room, you can faintly hear the sound of waves crashing outside the sliding doors, a subtle reminder of the vacation you both took together for some warranted down time, but your mind isn’t focused on that, it’s focused on the feeling of his slow thrusting, focused on the sound of his breathless panting. the world outside doesn’t exist. not when he’s with you.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he groans deeply, palms of his hands landing on the globes of your ass, and his eyes; hooded and lustful, watch the bounce of flesh. “so pretty like this.”
the fabric of the pillows muffle your moans, muffles the choked whines each time his hand lands on your ass, squeezing and rubbing to ease sting away gently. your body begins to jolt, moving higher up the bed each time he pulls out so the tip remains, just to sink back into you a little harder. the sounds of skin slapping together echoes the room loudly.
“so deep,” your words are slurred and breathless, eyes half open. “you’re so deep, honey, can’t, oh fuck,” the hand you had on his hip flies off and grips the sheet tightly beneath you, eyes rolling back a second time when both his hands are dripping your hips, practically dragging you back and forth onto his cock.
you’re pretty sure you’ve got drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth and onto the silk sheets below, but you don’t seem to care, he sure as hell doesn’t. the thick vein on the underside of his cock throbs against your walls, and it causes you to squirm underneath him but his hands stay clamped around your hips, keeping you from moving away from him.
“nuh uh, stay here, baby, just stay right here. yeah, that’s it, good girl.” his praise goes straight to your cunt and your walls clamp around him tightly. “takin’ it so good,” he’s sitting back just enough to look at the way you’re both connected, the sight of the thick creamy white ring around the base of his cock causes him to growl. a growl that emits from deep in his chest. he huffs out a breath through his nose, and keeping his thrusts hard enough to have you whining and moaning, but then switches them to a slow grind of his hips to have you begging all over again.
the second he’s lowering himself over you, the angle causes him to sink even deeper if that’s possible; he moves from your hips, and forms his hands into fists and presses themdown onto the mattress on each side of your hips instead and one of your hands grab onto the hard muscle of his arm, nails sinking into the skin once his thrusts get harder, driving into you with vigor. “i love you,” he groans, sweat forming on the hairline of his face and then down his temple, eyes flickering between where his cock slides in and out of your cunt and then at the way your muscles in your back tense. “love you so much.”
you’re rendered speechless, hair sticking to your face, tears streak down your face at the pure feeling of him fucking you so deep and good into the mattress that any thoughts you did have are now gone. you bury your face deeper into the pillows when he’s suddenly moving his arm, not the one you’re still holding and slides his hand down your stomach before his fingers find your throbbing clit, that you scream into the pillow, his long digits rubbing slow but constant figure eights on the sensitive nub in tune with each of his thrusts. “ohmygod! don’t stop, please don’t stop.” you finally manage to cry out.
he grins smugly, and shakes his head despite you not being able to see him. “never, honey, never gonna stop.” he promises.
your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, no prior warning and your walls tighten around his cock again, his breatch hitches at the feeling and clenches his jaw tightly and you can tell he isn’t far behind with how his movements get slower and sloppier above you, groaning and moaning breathlessly; the sweat from his forehead and chest drop onto your back but he doesn’t stop, his fingers against your clit don’t stop either.
“gonna cum, baby,” his voice is wrecked, raspy and low. “where do you want it?”
“inside,” you gasped out, your body still coming from the high of your own orgasm; you’re pretty sure he might even pull another one from you if he keeps it up. “want it inside, please, need it inside.”
all it takes is a few more deep thrusts, and his entire body locks and tenses before he’s spilling deep inside you. “wait, baby, don’t do that,” he chokes out weakly when your cunt flutters around him, trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth. “christ,” his cock twitches inside you, and when you hum contently at the feeling of him filling you up just like you always ask for he laughs hoarsly. “you’re greedy,” he murmurs, carefully lowering himself to press his chest against your back. his body was warm despite being sweaty. “and beautiful.”
once he’s close enough he presses his face into your neck from behind, you turn your head as best you can, even if the angle is awkward, and press a kiss to his temple; you hope it’s his temple; your eyes are still hooded and glazed. “love you, honey. stay like this with me for a while.”
“you’re still warm around me, not going anywhere. the beach and margaritas can wait” he murmurs into the damp skin on your neck. then softly, he speaks again. “love you more, always.”
— 18+ mdni !! Men who suck their cum out of your pussy
After he’s fucked you senseless and pumped you full of load after load, he doesn’t pull out and leave you dripping. No — he pushes your thighs wide open, stares at the messy creampie leaking from your used hole, and dives in.
He buries his face between your legs and starts licking long, filthy stripes up your pussy, scooping his own thick cum out with his tongue. The wet, obscene sounds fill the room as he sucks and slurps, pushing his tongue deep inside you to get every drop.
“Mmm, fuck… taste so good mixed with your pussy,” he groans against your sensitive folds, the vibration making you twitch. He’s messy about it — cum and your juices coating his chin, lips, and nose as he eats you out with zero shame.
He sucks on your clit while pushing two fingers inside you, fucking his cum back in and out, then licking it all up again. He makes sure to gather a big mouthful of his warm cum before crawling back up your body. He grabs your jaw, tilts your head, and kisses you deep — pushing his own load into your mouth in a filthy, sloppy kiss.
You moan into it as you swap his cum back and forth, tongues sliding together, strings of it dripping down your chins. He groans when you swallow some and feed the rest back into his mouth, both of you tasting like pure sex.
He pulls back with a cum-smeared grin, licking his lips. “Now open your legs again. I’m not done cleaning you up yet.”
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Oh my godddd I can’t stop thinking about Dex and Adrian at the same time and they’re both a little too whiny and pathetic and getting a little jealous of each other if you give one too much attention…
kissing dex with a languid rhythm, breathing into his mouth, taking your sweet time tasting him and swallowing his wanton groans and shaky sighs, knowing its driving adrian (who is pressed up behind you) fucking insane, he murmurs impatiently against your ear "my turn, my turn, my turn-", his warm breath tickles you and when you turn to berate him for being so damn distracting adrian is already messily pressing his mouth against yours with a relieved and victorious laugh, of course this pisses dex off, who just looks on with a cock of his brow before he leans in to bite at your jaw, two can play at that game, if adrian gets to demand for attention so can he, and dex can be far more rude about it too, hes gonna grab your jaw with his bare hands and bring it back to him if adrian gorges up on you
dex knows full well you're not on birth control, but the urge to take you raw always, always plagues him. he has to have it, he has to take you whenever, however he wants. you're both careful enough and there's been no mishaps thus far...
that is until one night, dex is so so close you can feel it and without a second thought you're caging your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together and moaning so loud you're practically begging him to cum right then and there.
his brows pull together and he's gasping, taking you deeper and harder, whimpering and pawing at your legs to release him so he can cum on your pretty tummy.
but that's not what you want. you're arching your back off the mattress, panting, gripping at dex's waist. pleading eyes just begging him to fill you up.
you both know he's physically strong enough to pull away, but he's so irrevocably obsessed with you that all he can truly think about is pumping you so full of his cum you're overflowing with it. he's desperate now to fuck a baby into your belly, growling as he gives in and crowds your body with his and hitting impossibly deeper forcing you to scream his name as you come around him.
he's biting you, hard, groaning into your skin as he fills your cunt full of his cum. "this what you want, hm?" he's mumbling into your neck. "will fill you up, baby, much as you want." within minutes he's already semi-hard again and rocking into you, filthy noises echoing in your bedroom.
this was inspired by a shane maguire ask on another page awhile ago but i lowkey lost it
thinking about dex groveling on his knees after you two get in a fight.
"p-please baby, i'm sso sorry..." he hiccups, glistening tears running down his flushed face. his arms are wrapped around your legs, his knees digging into the wooden floors as he begs you to stay.
he'd come home ridiculously late again with no explanation, leaving you waiting up for the nth time. he can't tell you what he does, he's too afraid of you ditching him and finding someone better, someone who isn't fucked up like he is.
"dex--!" you roll your eyes at his unreasonably pathetic behavior. "i just told you i need some space right now" your arms are crossed, and this seems to him like you're planning to leave for good.
"we- we don't need space! i-" his voice breaks and his body wracks with sobs, his forehead dropping to your knees. he can't stand the thought of time away from you. "i'll do anything, baby--" he mumbles, sniffling as if he'll never see you again. "please don't leave," his head shakes, looking up at you with big wet pleading eyes. "i love you so much i can't- i can't los--"
his begging is cut off by your confused voice, "dex- i'm not leaving..." your eyebrows furrow softly, "baby..." your tone softens impossibly once you see he greatly misread the situation. you kneel down with him, cupping his cheeks. he leans into you, letting you hold his head up to gaze at you. "i'm not going anywhere, okay?" you reassure him gently, wiping away his tears with your thumbs.
he nods hesitantly, finally calming down. "o-okay..." he hiccups, turing into a puddle under your touch. "m'sorry" he says once again, earning a look from you.
"stop apologizing" you coo, "i'm sorry, baby" you're talking to him, and he's just gazing at you with lovesick eyes, so relived and surprised you haven't left him yet. maybe one day he'll tell you about his alter ego, but for now, he has to make sure you stay his, and he stays yours.
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