An overwhelming abundance of fucks

Your Best Friend Is Not Blind

TW suggestive humour, explicit innuendo, obsessive love, Jonathan is your best friend from this story! (I think it could still be read as a one shot)

WC 556

See, before Dex, I'd like to think you and Jonathan used to go out together and try to pull guys together at bars. Like, you'd wingman each other, because you both liked men but never the same men (Thank GOD).

Jonathan’s type was normal-hot, well-adjusted, a stable job, and a good credit score. After all, you both worked in a school, and while you both loved it, Johnathan was a teacher and teachers were severely underpaid.

Jonathan knew your type was always a little on the unhinged side, to be fair.

But never this unhinged.

When Dex happened, Jonathan was like, okay. Fine. Your taste has always been questionable, but usually the men are not this fucking hot. So what were you supposed to do? Be strong? Be sensible? Have morals? In this economy?

And then you actually started dating Dex and Jonathan tried to warn you because, babe, that man was getting territorial over your very gay, very platonic best friend.

20 something stalker!reader stalking 40 something bullseye. he uses the opportunity to "fuck some sense into you" whenever he gets his hands on you as if he's not just as obsessive and stalkerish. he wants you to know who's really in control.

he lets you believe you're trailing him but he's really just leading you down a dark alley. he ducks behind some rubble, holding his breath in anticipation as you draw nearer. he'll suddenly grab you by the waist and slap a hand over your mouth, spinning you and pressing your front against the rough brick wall.

of course this is exactly where you want to be, so you're immediately whining into his gloved hand and pressing yourself against him, pawing at him. he'll growl a sharp "be good," in your ear while one big hand pins your hands above your head and the other is tugging your bottoms down, and then his.

you feel his gloved hand between your legs. he'll spread your legs and reposition you so his dick slides into your already soaked cunt. he starts slow, thrusting in and out while rubbing sweet circles on your clit.

dex loves working you up, picking up the pace and listening to your pretty voice moan and whine and feel your hands flex in his big one.

he'll pound into you, the filthy sounds echoing in the empty alleyway. dex will get you so close, impossibly close, before he's pulling out and ripping his hand from your clit, jacking himself off until he's cumming on your pretty cunt and ass. he shows no inclination that he's going to listen to your begging and pleading, pulling your bottoms back up before he's stepping back and letting you slump against the rough wall.

dex who just appears in ur house randomly.

it was at night when u got home one time and was met with the sight of him just.. in ur room… organising ur clothes drawer.

you basically jumped at the sight: "What the fuck— dex! are you trying to give me a heart attack?" u huffed, hand on ur heart and clearly still recovering from the scare of a massive man (who was still suited as bullseye) in ur room at 11pm. he just looks at u with the expression of an unimpressed cat as if he’d done nothing wrong!

"your room is messy." he says. vaguely gesturing to the pile of clothes in a basket placed in the corner.

another time, you could be watching a movie, haven’t checked ur phone in a bit when u hear the sound of a window sliding open from ur bedroom. dex walking out with a bit of a concerned expression before relaxing at the sight of you, "you weren’t responding to my texts." standing by the TV as he squinted at you skeptically… as if he wasn’t literally standing next to the reason why.

"..i’m watching a movie, babe. i didn’t see the messages," sighing softly as you patted the couch, dex immediately moving to plop down next to you like an overgrown puppy.

another time, you were sleeping— trying to sleep. tossing and turning with grumbles and complaints and as if the universe was finally on ur side you heard ur bedroom door being opened gently, "mhmmn.. dex..?" u mumbled, rubbing ur eyes and rolling onto ur back. dex grunting softly in response as u heard him kick his boots off, settling beside you on the bed as he shifted you onto a more comfy position.

"baby… you can’t just keep breaking into my home."

Connect to ur weird girl reader in a molecular level btw. Really need that real freak4freak. I just imagine the two in an alleyway and she's nakey while he's suited up.

I guess I did just ask something in the middle of word vomit 🫡

ask and you shall receive :p

the whole thing was actually her idea :o

she had spent the past few days getting off to the power imbalance created by him remaining fully suited up and even armed, whilst she shivers in the cold, completely undressed.

before dex goes out another night, she asks him to just text her when he's coming back—without coming up to her apartment.

she gets the text and makes her way down to the alley he's waiting in just wearing a faded pantera shirt and cotton pajama shorts with a pair of ratty uggs.

she watches him for a moment, taking note of the gun holstered on his chest. she could see the knives holstered around the waist of his tactical pants perfectly.

he smiles under her scrutiny and slips his mask of, tousling his hair as he gazes down at her in slight bewilderment. "what's going on, sweetheart?"

she just smiles (and let it be known that her smile is slightly uncanny) and drops to her knees whilst she slips down his pants just barely enough to slip his cock out of his briefs.

he tries (minimally) to express concern about her bare knees on the concrete—rocks, needles, bacteria—but he's just a little bit too distracted by the way she's running her hand up and down his shaft.

at the same time, she's mesmerised by the subtle twitches of his cock in her hand. she can feel the veins along his length shifting slightly as he gets increasingly harder.

she tries to avoid making a show of taking of her shirt and discarding it, but dex's eyes intently track the motions like he's been programmed to do so. he watches the way her nipples pebble in the cold night air and nearly collapses when he watches her slip a finger in her mouth before dragging it across one of her nipples.

he catches her about to start feeding his cock into her mouth and immediately pulls her up. he wastes no time practically ripping her shorts of—his cock aches even more when he sees she's not wearing underwear—and he wraps her legs around his waist so that he can fuck her hard and come inside her like he's supposed to.

dex revels in hearing her pants and whines in his ear as he lightly bounces her up and down, though he sorely wishes he could feel her skin directly against his.

she, however, is having the time of her life. she slides a hand down his chest, grazing the cold grommets on his leather holster, before slipping a hand down to feel the base of his cock. her knuckles graze a throwing knife on his belt and her pussy clenches around his involuntarily. she knows how capable of harm he is, and being in proximity to such lethal danger excites her more than she knows it should.

dex is pretty sure he knows why she asked him to meet her in the alley. he punctuates his knowledge of her arousal with a harsh pound of his hips against hers before she's finally climaxing and spasming around his length, provoking his own orgasm as he paints her walls white.

i tried writing it in the third person and it was like an out of body experience.

part one, part two, part three, part four

a/n: @adalynsss requested more about this pairing in general, and @americanadolls wanted you to see something more about the freak of dex's girlfriend. this one's for you guys :p

mdni, freak4freak, f masturbation, mentions of shower sex

dex gave you a spare key to his apartment. on nights that you missed him, he wanted you to be able to be around his belongings, bathe in his air, feel him even in his absence.

however, you did this far more often than just when you knew he was risking his life in hell's kitchen. in the morning when you knew he had gone for his run, you'd slip in and make a beeline for his bed.

your morning routine consisted of slinking onto his bed and pleasuring yourself. you'd always start with planting your face in his pillow and taking in his musk. it always smelt unmistakably of him. you could identify and dissect every element of the scent: the clinically clean twinge of his body wash, sometimes the masculinely oaky smell of his cologne. and, god help you, the metallic twinge of blood he failed to completely wipe from his skin. why didn't he just call you? he should know you'd be happy to help.

you face plant into the pillow and squeeze your thighs together before finally slipping a hand in your pants. you'd plunge your fingers inside your sopping pussy and keep it static whilst lifting your hips up and down, trying to simulate sex with him.

on one particular occasion, you had swiped some of your release on his pillow, hoping that it would somehow draw him closer to you.

on certain nights when you knew dex was terrorising members of the avtf, you'd start your night routine in his apartment.

instead of showering in your own bathroom, you'd use his. you'd lather yourself with his body wash, drowning in the scent of him.

this was another setting apt for touching yourself. the steam curls around you as you slip a finger inside your pussy, holding onto the shower head for support. you'd imagine having sex with him in this very shower, with his arms circled around your waist.

you'd imagine him forcing his cock into you as he pressed you against the tile, or even as he lifted you in his arms and fucked you in a standing carry.

you knew you could have the most mind-blowing orgasm if you could hear the wet skin of your thighs colliding with his v-line as he lifts you just barely off his cock before slamming you back down.

you imagined this, you knew it could be so good, and it felt as such when you were grounded again in his shower as you came hard with a clenching pussy around your fingers.

you shut the water off immediately so that you didn't pass out and made your way out of the bathroom. you grabbed one of dex's towels but opted against wrapping yourself with it in favour of just planting your face in it, thinking about how it's been all over his body.

to your surprise (as well as arousal), you walked straight into a wall of muscle. dex!!

you drop the towel and look up with, chest heaving and face unbearably hot. "when did you get back?" you'd be embarrassed by how feeble your voice sounded, but you were ridiculously turned on standing completely naked in front of dex.

he smiled sharply as he looked at you. "about half an hour ago." you tried to approximate how long you'd spent indulging in yourself. had he heard you come screaming his name?

you assumed he knew what you'd been up to regardless from the way he manhandled you back into the shower, shedding his clothes with a fervour you had never seen in him before.

You quickly learn the rule with Dex: you keep your eyes on him the entire time. He’s buried deep inside you, hips rolling in that precise, punishing rhythm only he can manage. One hand grips your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek so you can’t even think about turning away.

“Look at me,” he hisses, voice low and edged with something dangerously fragile. His eyes are wide, intense, almost frantic as they bore into yours. “Don’t you fucking look away.” You moan softly, trying to hold his gaze while he hits that spot over and over, but your eyes flutter for just a second. That’s all it takes.

Dex’s thrusts falter. His grip tightens almost painfully on your jaw as a flash of raw insecurity crosses his face. For a moment he looks like a lost, pathetic little boy pretending to be dangerous. “You thinking about someone else?” he whispers, the words cracking with quiet paranoia. “Is that why you can’t keep your eyes on me? You’d rather picture another man stretching you open right now?”

He sounds ridiculous and heartbreaking and terrifying all at once. You shake your head quickly, eyes snapping back to his. “No- Dex, it’s you. Only you.” The relief in his expression is immediate but fleeting. He leans down closer, forehead almost touching yours, still fucking you slow and deep.

“Then keep looking at me,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “I need to see it. I need to know I’m the only one in your head while we're together.” His pace picks up again, harder nw, eyes never leaving yours. Every thrust is a silent demand: Stay with me. Want me. Need me. Because if you break eye contact even once, Bullseye starts to crack.

watching a video on brewing Mesopotamian beer and look at this orange man (his ass cannot guard the barley)

I saw this when running newpipe. But wait, it gets deeper. I clicked on the details buttons and it said as of today, we have 83 days left until Google rolls out this new requirement for apps inside and outside of the google play store. If any developer disagrees with their new terms and fees, they will be blocked!

I'll share some of the info below:

Looks like they're trying to nuke the remaining privacy and freedoms we have left on the internet.

What to do?

-Get your developer friends to not comply to their new guides

- Sign the open letter on the site and take action by checking out the full resources list on their website as well!

To summarize, this is all daunting especially when you feel all alone with unfair and inhumane regulations comming out faster than improvements but we got this working together!

Share the link with your friends, family and anyone who will listen!

thinking about watching ur (favourite) prisioner, 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐃𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐑 — jerk off while you're on duty.

he had entered the correctional facility relatively recently after a disgusting and expensive trial that left him sentenced for a couple of months. murdering foggy nelson condemned him to remain in orange jumpsuits and wear a tired decoy on his face all day and night.

he didn't speak, nor make a gesture. a single exception was that one fucking predatory smile he sometimes aimed at you in the hallway lunch line. it sent sudden ahivers down your spine.

now, you sit bathed in the dim light of the security monitors in the room. you were in charge to look out specially at benjamin's cell, all by yourself. you could see his every move perfectly: how he paced back and forth between those four walls, how he glanced at the security camera and how that wicked smile returned. gosh, what was his damn problem?

his gaze pierces the cam, cutting straight the grainy static of the feed and pinning you to your chair.

and that's when his hand began to move down towards his crotch, leaning his head against one of the walls that offered a perfect view of the camera lens. he started slowly, barely squeezing the base of his cock with his right hand, moving up and down and sighing softly—his eyes still fixed on the flickering lens, knowing you were watching.

your throat goes dry, silence filling the security room. you should hit the klaxon, you should call someone to help you manage this, you should log an infraction on him—yet your hand is frozen mid-air over the console.

benjamin starts to fist his now leaking cock, pace quickens a bit becoming more aggressive with it. benjamin then walks over and leans closer to the cell, breathing visibily heavier and faster, chest pumping.

he mouths something inaudible at the camera, you can't hear him through the mutted feed monitor but the shape of his crooked lips is unmistakable as hell. a taunt, a fucking taunt. even though he couldn't see your face, he was determined to keep playing with your patience.

the flickering light catches his orgasm perfectly, highlighting that same smile appearing on the corner of his lips. a sharp, visible exhale leaves his lips, his body goes rigid for a long moment before finally slumping back against the cold wall, his hand falling away.

he straightens his jumpsuit, feeling cocky and unhurried by doing it, stepping away from the wall until his face can be visible on the entire monitor.

ben's hand brushed against his cock again, then raised it and pointed his index finger at the camera, laughing maniacally until the other prisoners silenced him.

yeah, this is going to be a loong duty.

I had to turn this off, but it's something that allows Windows and anyone using your device to generate text/images.