He pushed the door open a little wider with his shoulder, glasses sliding down his nose, and the sight hit him like a truck.

You were on the floor.

Legs splayed, one knee twisted at a weird angle, that thin white cover-up clinging to your skin thanks to the humidity and doing exactly zero to hide the tiny bikini underneath.

His gaze flicked down, then up, then anywhere that wasn’t you, but it was useless. The way the bikini bottoms sat low on your hips. The cover-up slipping off one shoulder. The sunscreen is still shiny on your thigh. He felt heat crawl up the back of his neck, felt his glasses fog slightly at the edges because apparently his body had decided this was the moment to overheat.

“Are—are you okay?” The words came out gravelly, like he’d just swallowed a handful of sand. He hovered in the doorway, one hand still gripping the frame.

You looked up at him, lips parted in that sheepish little smile. “Yeah,” you said with a soft, embarrassed laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I just slipped on sunscreen like an absolute genius.”

Dex swallowed hard. He should leave. He should turn around right now and go back to his room and pretend he hadn’t seen any of this. But his feet were glued. And you were still sitting there, looking up at him with those eyes, cover-up slipping further down your arm, and every single fantasy he’d ever tried to bury came roaring back in high definition.

He took one careful step closer, then another, until he was crouched beside you. His hand hovered for a second before his fingers brushed your elbow. The skin there was warm, still a little slick from lotion, and the contact sent a jolt straight through him.

“Here—let me…” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, tried again. “C-can I help you up?”

You nodded, still wearing that small, knowing smile, and when you slipped your hand into his, Dex felt it in his ribs, his stomach, everywhere. He pulled you to your feet a little too quickly, until you were standing right there, inches away. The sheer fabric brushed against his hoodie. The smell of strawberries filled the space between you.

“You… you should probably lather up on the couch,” he managed, voice low and rough. “Sitting down to avoid…slipping.”

“That’s actually a really smart idea,” you said, laughing softly, that same knowing smile still in place as you let go of his hand. You stepped past him toward the hallway.

Dex inhaled sharply before he could stop himself. Your hair swung close and that strawberry scent hit him full force again. His eyes actually rolled back for half a second, lashes fluttering. God. He was pathetic. Completely, irreversibly pathetic.

He followed you down the hall at a careful distance, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets so you wouldn’t see them shaking, eyes locked on the floor.

“You heading to the beach today?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. He’d watched you check the weather app three separate times during dinner. He knew your plans better than his own.

You glanced back over your shoulder with a little shrug. “Nah, just the rooftop pool.”

Dex rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to look surprised. “R-right. I forgot the apartment even had a pool…”

You dropped onto the couch and gave him that sweet little “Mm-hm.”

“Well,” he said, already taking a jerky step back toward the hallway, “I’ll be in my room if you need anyth—”

“Actually…”

Your voice stopped him cold. Dex turned halfway around. You were standing by the couch, sunscreen bottle in one hand, fingers playing with the tie of your cover-up.

“Can you help me put sunscreen on?” you asked, all soft and sweet. “My back’s impossible to reach and I really don’t want to burn…”

Dex’s mouth went completely dry. Every alarm in his head went off, but his feet were already carrying him toward you anyway. 

“You… you want me to—?” His voice came out cracked and embarrassingly breathy.

You tilted your head, biting your lower lip in that soft, innocent way that wiped every rational thought clean out of his skull. “Only if you’re okay with it,” you said sweetly, eyes wide and guileless. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Uncomfortable. Right.

He was already half-hard in his sweatpants, cock twitching at the mere idea of his hands on you. His glasses slid another inch down his nose.

“No—no, I don’t mind,” he blurted, then winced at how desperate he sounded. “I mean… yeah. Sure. Definitely.”

Your whole face lit up. “Thank you!” you chirped, bright and happy, and before he could brace himself you reached up and tugged the tie of the cover-up. It slipped right off your shoulders and you held it

Dex’s brain flatlined.

Holy shit.

New material, his mind supplied instantly, already filing every detail away for later. For when he was alone in his room tonight, door locked, hand wrapped tight around his cock, biting down on his wrist so you wouldn’t hear him falling apart through the thin wall. He was so unbelievably fucked.

You dropped the cover-up over the arm of the couch and sat down, patting the cushion beside you. “C’mere then.”

Dex nodded like a bobble head and lowered himself onto the couch on shaky legs, the cushions sinking under his weight. His hands trembled as he took the sunscreen from you and squeezed way too much into his palm. A thick white pool sat there like evidence of how badly he was failing at playing it cool.

He rubbed his palms together slowly, the wet sound loud in the quiet room, warming the lotion between his fingers. Then he scooted closer and placed his hands at the top of your back, right below the delicate knot of your bikini strings.

Fuck.

His thumbs pressed into your warm skin and he started rubbing careful circles, spreading the lotion down the smooth line of your spine. He was trying so hard to stay respectful, but his brain was already ten steps ahead—imagining taking the string with his teeth, tugging it loose, watching the strings fall away so he could finally see everything he’d been fantasizing about for months.

Dex’s breath caught. He kept his hands moving anyway, trying like hell not to let you feel how badly they were shaking.

“Mmm… your hands feel really good, Ben,” you said, low and a little breathy. You even used his first name, and it hit him like you knew exactly what it would do to him.

His whole body jolted.

“S-Sorry?” The word came out too loud and cracked right in the middle. His hands froze on your skin, palms pressed flat against your back, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his fingertips.

You let out a soft, knowing laugh and twisted on the couch. Before his brain could catch up, you swung one leg over his lap and straddled him. Your warm thighs settled around his hips, your ass pressing right down against the front of his sweatpants where he was already half-hard and completely hopeless.

Dex’s back hit the cushions hard, body stiff as a board. Every muscle locked up tight. His lotion-slick hands flew up in the air.

“Wh-what—you—I—What are you doing?”

You settled your full weight on his thighs, hands resting lightly on his shoulders, and smiled down at him with that sweet, wicked look that wiped every coherent thought from his head.

“You want to touch them, don’t you, Benjamin?” you asked softly, tilting your head. “I know you’ve wanted me for a long time. I see the way you look at me when I walk around in my sundresses. When I bend over to grab something. You think I don’t notice?”

Dex’s mouth opened, then closed. Words failed him for a second.

“I—I didn’t—fuck, okay I did, but I swear I wasn’t trying to be creepy— Jesus Christ you’re so pretty and I’m such a fucking loser but yes please—you can sit here forever—I’ll do anything—I’ll buy you all the sunscreen in the store—I’ll—fuck—”

His hands stayed hovering uselessly in the air, trembling, eyes wide and glassy behind his glasses as he stared up at you.

You giggled, clearly loving every second of his meltdown, and traced one finger slowly down his forehead, over the bridge of his nose, then across his bottom lip. Your fingertip caught on the way his mouth shook.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I don’t mind. I like it when you look at me like that.”

Dex’s breathing turned ragged, chest heaving under you. Every exhale fogged his glasses a little more. His cock was fully hard now, throbbing against your ass, and he was mortified and turned on beyond belief.

You slid your fingers into his brown hair, messing it up and tugged gently until his head tipped back with a shaky gasp. Then you plucked his glasses off his face and set them neatly on the couch cushion beside you.

“You’re already so hot with these on,” you murmured, brushing his hair back from his forehead, nails scraping lightly over his scalp, “but you shouldn’t hide that handsome face all the time.” You leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Can you still see me?”

Dex blinked hard. The world went soft and blurry without the lenses, but you were right there—warm, soft, and practically naked on his lap, tits inches from his mouth. His hands finally settled on your hips, thumbs brushing the edge of your bikini bottoms.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed, still panting. “I can still see you.”

“Good,” you said with another soft laugh, palms sliding down his chest, over his shoulders, feeling every tense line of him like you were marking what was yours. “Then you won’t mind taking off your hoodie right now, will you?”

Dex’s brain blue-screened, “Y-You want me to do what?”

You rocked your hips once, slow and deliberate, grinding right against the obvious bulge in his sweats. He choked on air.

“Take off your clothes, Ben.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

His voice cracked embarrassingly high. “This is a joke, right? You’re fucking with me—”

You didn’t bother answering with words. You just stood up, reached behind your neck, and pulled the bow. The knot came undone with one easy tug. The pink bikini top slipped down and you tossed it onto the couch.

Dex’s eyes went wide and inhaled sharply. “Oh my god…”

Your breasts were right there—bare, nipples already tight from the way he was staring. He couldn’t look away. His cock throbbed hard against his sweats. His hands fisted the couch cushions so tightly his knuckles went white.

You planted your hands on your hips, completely at ease. “Do you want to get off or not?”

That snapped him out of it. Dex yanked his hoodie up and over his head in one jerky motion, then stripped off the white t-shirt underneath. He sat there shirtless, and holy shit—he was ripped. Broad shoulders, defined chest, abs flexing with every shaky breath, that sharp V-line disappearing into his low-slung sweats.

You drank him in like you’d been waiting years for this exact reveal, eyes darkening, lips parting. A slow, hungry smile curved your mouth, like you’d always known the shy, glasses-wearing roommate was secretly built like that under the hoodies. Like you’d been imagining peeling him open just as much as he’d been imagining you.

“Fuck, Dex,” you breathed, stepping between his spread thighs. “I knew you were hiding all that.”

Dex swallowed hard, throat bobbing. A tiny, shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He still couldn’t believe any of this was happening to him.

“What… what do you want me to do?”

You hummed, dragging your gaze over every cut line of his torso while you decided. “Why don’t you get on your knees and make me come? Then I’ll let you play with my breasts.”

His eyes blew wide, like a kid who just got told Christmas came early. “Really? You—you actually want me to—?”

You laughed, low and fond, cocking your hip. “Are you going to ask me that every single time? Yes, really. Taste me.”

Dex’s breath stuttered out in a shaky exhale. He slid off the couch in slow motion, knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. He knelt between your thighs, looking up at you with those big hazel eyes, glasses-less and wrecked. 

“I’m just… surprised you want me to,” he mumbled, adorably earnest. “I mean… me?”

You combed your fingers through his messy hair, nails scraping his scalp, and his whole body jolted like you’d shocked him. A tinybwhimper slipped out before he could swallow it.

“Well, I really need to know what that mouth feels like,” you murmured, still petting him like he was yours.

Dex’s breath hitched hard. “O-okay… okay, fuck—thank you.”

He leaned in and caught the left tie of your bikini bottoms between his teeth (exactly the way he’d just fantasized) and tugged with a desperate little groan vibrating in his throat. The knot slipped free. He moved to the right side, teeth grazing your hip bone, pulling harder this time, eyes fluttering shut as a muffled “mmph” vibrated against your skin.

The pink bottoms fluttered to the floor.

He was inches from your bare pussy, that sweet strawberry-and-you scent flooding his lungs. He looked up at you one last time, cheeks flushed.

“Fuck… you’re so pretty,” he whispered. He looked up at you so intently, those beautiful hazel eyes blazing through the haze of his glasses-less blur.

For the second time this morning his brain is lagging—this gorgeous, confident woman gripping his hair, looking at him like he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. As if he wasn’t just some awkward, hoodie-wearing loser who’d jerked off to the image of you in his head for six straight months. It couldn’t be real, could it? He was going to wake up any second, cock in his fist, alone in his cold bed again—then he lowered his lips to your pussy and he knew it was real.

The first touch was so delicately gentle, just the soft press of his open mouth, a shaky, whimpery kiss right against your folds. A savouring hum caught in his throat the second your taste hit his tongue. The sensation tore through you like lightning, and you arched hard, knees buckling with a startled cry that made his cock twitch painfully in his sweats.

“Oh wow,” you moaned breathlessly, gripping his bare shoulder. “You’re… surprisingly really good at this.”

You tried to steady yourself on one foot as he brought your other leg up, easing it over his shoulder with trembling hands. His tongue dragged flat and worshipful from your entrance to your clit, then swirled lazy, needy circles, moaning into you the whole time that vibrated straight through your core. 

“Mmmph—fuck, you taste so good,” he mumbled against you, voice muffled and desperate. “I don’t deserve this—mmh—so sweet, I’m sorry I’m so greedy but I can’t stop—”

He closed his mouth over your swollen clit and kissed it like it was the love of his life, lips sucking and smacking wetly, moving exactly like he was French-kissing your mouth. His tongue swirled in huge, sloppy circles, groaning loud and shameless right into you as he gripped your hips with those strong hands, yanking you harder against his face so he could grind his nose against your clit.

He pulled back just enough to stare up at you with those worshipful eyes before his tongue started flicking your clit in rapid, frantic little strokes. His gaze never left yours, drinking in every gasp and twitch like your pleasure was the only validation he’d ever need. His hips jerk pathetically against nothing, completely lost in the taste of you, groaning and begging between messy licks.

“Oh my, g-god. Dex—slide your tongue in again.”

You bucked hard towards his nose, a muffled cry slipping through your bitten lips as his tongue pushed deep inside you, thick and wet and pulsing like he was trying to fuck you with it. He groaned into your pussy, the vibration rolling straight to your clit, and your fingers twisted tighter in his messy hair. The second you yanked him closer, he let out the cutest, muffled little laugh against your soaked folds then drove his tongue even deeper, curling, licking, devouring like he’d die if he couldn’t taste every drop of you.

Dex pulled back just enough to drag in a shaky breath, lips glossy and swollen, spit and your slick shining down his chin.

“Please—fuck, please keep pulling my hair like that,” he begged. His hips still rolled helplessly against nothing, the fat outline of his cock straining obscenely against his sweats, a wet spot blooming darker where he was leaking for you. “I love it when you do—”

“Yeah?” You gave his hair a sharp tug, watching the way his whole body jolted like you’d electrocuted him. A wicked smile curved your lips. “You like it when I get a little rough?”

“Yes—yes, fuck, I love it,” he groaned, eyes fluttering.

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, nails scraping possessively over his scalp again. “You’re so fucking sweet when you beg. Almost makes me want to be nice to you…” You yanked harder, and his moan cracked into a needy whimper that made his thighs shake. “…but it’s way too sexy when you fall apart like this. I also like my men strong, Benjamin. Are you strong?”

“Oh fuck—” 

He surged up from his knees without warning. Big hands grabbed your hips and spun you around with barely an effort. You barely had time to gasp before he lifted you and tossed you back onto the couch. Your back bounced against the cushions, and before you could even speak he was right there again, down on his knees between your spread legs.

His palms shoved your thighs up and back, folding you neatly in half until your knees pressed to your chest. Your pussy was completely open, glistening and dripping right in front of his face.

Dex dove back in like he’d lost his mind. His tongue dragged up to your clit, flicking and sucking with fresh, desperate hunger. Just when you started missing the stretch of him inside you, he pushed two thick fingers deep, thrusting slowly at first, then harder, curling them exactly where you needed them.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, head falling back. “You’re such a good boy—I don’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He was devouring you now. Every time he sucked your clit between his lips he made wet, filthy slurping sounds, humming deep and greedy in his throat.

“Mmmph—fuuuck,” he groaned right against your pussy, the vibration rolling straight through you. “You know this pussy owns me now, right? Owns my face. Owns my mouth.” His tongue lapped messily through your folds, slurping noisily at every drop, chin already shiny and dripping. “I could kneel here and lick you all fucking day. You’ve made such a mess out of me.”

He hummed louder, eyes squeezed shut in pure bliss, fingers pumping faster, curling hard against that spot that made your back arch clean off the couch and stars burst behind your eyelids.

Pleasure slammed through you hard enough to rip a loud cry from your throat. Dex’s tongue kept dragging those slow, filthy circles around your clit, savoring every twitch, while his fingers drove deep inside you in that steady, ruthless rhythm that had you trying to grind down on his face even though he had you folded in half.

And fuck, you thought with a dazed little smirk, it’s always the quiet ones who turn out to be absolute freaks.

“That’s it—own my face,” he whimpered desperately against your pussy, voice wrecked and needy. “Fucking own it. Come all over your good boy. Come all over your obedient little servant. That’s me. That’s all me.”

“Fuck—Dex, I’m coming,” you whispered urgently, as he rocked your hips against his face. “You’re going to make me come…”

Dex let out a groany laugh, eyes squeezing shut for a second like he couldn’t believe his luck. “Yes, give it to me,” he begged, lips trembling against your pussy. “Come in my mouth, flood my tongue, I’ll drink every fucking drop—”

His fingers drove deeper, faster, curling hard against that perfect spot while his tongue licked you quick and greedy, groaning low and filthy the whole time. He slurped and sucked like he was starving, humming desperately because you tasted so good he couldn’t get enough.

You cried out as the orgasm hit you, sharp and overwhelming. Your pussy clenched tight around his fingers, gushing all over his eager mouth and chin while he kept licking and sucking through every single pulse, moaning like he was coming right along with you.

“Oh fuck that’s it—that’s it, give me everything,” he mumbled between messy swallows, voice thick and grateful. “Fuck—thank you.”

When you finally started to come down, Dex pulled back just enough to press soft, reverent kisses to your inner thighs, lips trembling against your slick skin. He looked up and found you staring into the void, dazed and breathless, lips parted like you’d forgotten how to form words.

His hands itched. God, they fucking itched to slide up and cup those beautiful breasts but he didn’t dare move without permission. He was still your pathetic little servant, still on his knees, still terrified; this was all some cruel dream that would vanish if he got too greedy.

“Um… c-can I touch them now?” he asked, cheeks burning hot. “Please?”

That snapped you out of it. Your lips curved into a naughty little smile that made his cock twitch hard in his sweats. You sat up, cupped his chin, and tilted his flushed face up to you, thumb brushing the mess he’d made of his mouth.

“Of course you can, baby,” you said sweetly.

You pulled him up, swapped places, and pushed him back onto the couch. Then you opened his knees wide and swung a leg over to straddle his lap again. The heat of your bare pussy settled right over the massive bulge in his sweats and he whimpered, hips jerking up helplessly.

“How can I say no after you made me come like that?”

You took his shaking hands in yours and guided them slowly up your sides, over your ribs, until his palms were cupping your breasts. Dex gave them a tentative squeeze, thumbs brushing over your tight nipples.

You laughed softly, eyes sparkling. “You like them?”

He swallowed hard, throat working. “Yes,” he breathed, voice completely wrecked. “They’re… they’re perfect. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

His lips closed around one breast with a loud, wet, noisy suck. He moaned against your skin, eyes fluttering shut, tongue swirling as he pulled you deeper into his mouth.

You grinned, threading your fingers through his messy hair and holding him there while he made those shameless, hungry noises. Only then did you reach down between you and palm the thick, heavy outline of his cock through his sweats. Your eyes widened. A delighted little gasp slipped out as you felt exactly how big he was—rock-solid, fat, straining so hard the fabric was barely holding him in.

“Oh my word,” you murmured, giving him a slow, appreciative stroke that made his head fall back with a moan, your nipple still caught between his lips. “You just keep getting better and better, don’t you?”

Dex’s hips bucked hard into your hand, a pathetic little whine escaping around your breast because your touch was the first real one he’d felt in months.

You squeezed him again, loving the way his ripped abs flexed under your thighs. “No wonder you always walk like that…” Another stroke, thumb circling the wet spot at the tip until he gasped. “Poor baby’s been carrying this around the apartment every day and I never knew.”

Dex’s eyes locked on your hand, watching every lazy movement like it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. “Oh God—oh my God—fuck,” he gasped, hips twitching up into your palm without any control left. “Yeah—your hand feels so good—”

You gave him a firmer squeeze and his whole body jerked, those perfect abs clenching hard.

“Holy shit—uh—oh God. Fuck, you squeezing me like that—oh God—oh—” His head tipped all the way back, eyes half-lidded behind the blur of pleasure.

You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “Poor baby… already leaking all over my hand and I’ve barely touched you. Bet this feels a hell of a lot better than fucking your own fist thinking about me every night, doesn’t it?”

Dex’s whole body jolted. His eyes flew open, wide and stunned. His breath hitched while a shy, embarrassed little laugh caught in his throat as he stared at you like you’d just punched him in the chest with pure affection.

“Oh, it’s just… no one’s ever, uh, talked to me like this before,” he stammered, flashing that sheepish little smile that made your chest do something stupid. “No one’s ever said stuff like that to me. I—I’m sorry, I sound so stupid, I just—fuck, keep talking to me like that, please? God, it’s so hot I don’t know what to do with myself—”

You smiled against his ear and gave the shell a soft, wicked nibble that made his hips jerk again. “Well then,” you whispered, “has no one ever played with this fat cock the way I’m gonna?”

Dex opened his mouth to answer, but the words died the second your hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats. Your fingers wrapped around his bare, throbbing length and gave one long, slow stroke from base to tip.

“You’re so… Mm—you’re so—fuck—” His sentence crumbled. He tried to keep going, tried to tell you how no one had ever touched him like this, how he’d jerked off in the shower every single morning just so he wouldn’t walk around the apartment hard for you, but every drag of your hand wiped his brain clean. “I was gonna say—I mean—no one’s—Jesus Christ your hand is so soft—I can’t—I can’t even think when you—mmph—”

His head fell back against the couch while he kept trying anyway, lips moving, desperate to finish a single coherent thought, but every slow pump of your fist stole another piece of him. His abs clenched, thighs shaking under you, cock twitching hard in your grip as you stroked him nice and luxurious, spreading all that pre-cum until the wet sounds filled the room.

“I’ve never—no one’s ever touched me like—fuck, like that—slow—oh my god, please don’t stop, I sound so pathetic but I— I’ve dreamed about your hand—every night—and it’s so much better—I can’t—I can’t even finish a—fuck—”

You watched him with adoration in your eyes,  tilting your head and shut him up with your lips, kissing him so eagerly it stole the rest of his broken sentence right out of his mouth.

You swallowed it instantly, tongue sliding past his lips like you already owned every sound he made. He tried to kiss you back, clumsy and desperate, but you took control so completely that all he could do was whimper into your mouth while you explored him with strokes of your tongue that promised exactly what that same mouth could do somewhere much lower.

“Mm—fuck—mmph—” he tried again, the words vibrating against your lips, but you just kissed him deeper, twisting your wrist on the upstroke until his whole body jerked and another moan spilled straight into your mouth.

You pulled back just enough to reach for his glasses on the cushion beside you. With gentle fingers you slid them back onto his face.

“There,” you murmured, sweet as sugar. “I think you need to see me suck this dick in high definition.”

Dex blinked hard behind the lenses, the world snapping back into sharp, perfect focus around your wicked little smile. Before he could even try to form words, you slid off his lap, dropped to your knees between his spread thighs, and settled in. 

He watched, completely helpless and shaking, as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweats and boxers and dragged them down his hips in one smooth tug. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, and your fingers curled right around the base.

Dex’s hands flew up to cover his face, glasses knocked crooked. A muffled, delirious little laugh slipped out between his palms. “Fuck… I’m the luckiest man alive right now.”

You gave his cock a slow, appreciative stroke, then looked up at him with that firm, commanding glint in your eyes. “Look at me, Ben. Never take your eyes off me. Got it?”

Dex nodded so fast his glasses slipped down his nose again, eyes wide behind them, locked on your face like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to earth. 

You leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to the flushed, leaking head of his cock. Then lower. And lower. Before you smacked the heavy length against your cheek with deliberate, filthy slaps.

“God, you’re so heavy,” you teased, rubbing the thick shaft along your cheek while your eyes stayed glued to his. “How the hell do you think this is supposed to fit anywhere, huh? You’re gonna have to split me open, aren’t you?”

Dex let out a long, wrecked groan, thighs trembling on either side of you. He couldn’t look away. Not when you stuck your tongue out flat, laid his cock across it, and started smacking the shaft against the warm, wet muscle in solid, teasing taps.

He was going to die. He was actually going to die right here on the couch with his glasses on and your pretty mouth teasing the absolute hell out of him, and he’d thank you for it with his last breath.

“G-go choke on it first,” he blurted in a sudden rush of bravery, then immediately looked mortified. “I-I mean… if you want to…”

Your eyebrow snapped up, a wicked little grin spreading across your face as you nodded like you were proud of him for saying that.

Dex’s heart slammed against his ribs so hard he felt dizzy.

You leaned in closer, lips brushing the leaking tip as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Is that what you fantasize about when you jerk off in your room at night?” you purred. “Me choking on this fat cock? Gagging all pretty for you while you watch?”

Dex’s mouth fell open, hips twitching helplessly toward your face. “Y-yes—fuck, yes. Every night. Every single night—”

You didn’t let him finish.

The second the words left his lips you took the head of his cock into your mouth, and Dex gasped so hard it felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs.

It was too much. Too good. Velvety and hot and so fucking lucious that his whole spine lit up like a live wire. A strangled groan left him as pleasure streaked through every nerve ending at once. His hands flew to the couch cushions, knuckles white, because if he didn’t hold on he’d probably float straight out of his body.

You sank down slowly, taking more of him, tongue pressed flat underneath as your lips stretched tight around his thickness. Dex’s glasses fogged at the edges. His abs clenched hard, thighs shaking on either side of you.

You licked your way back up to the head, suctioning hard, then swirled your tongue over it, dipping into the slit to taste the steady leak of pre-cum like you were savoring him. Dex’s head fell back for half a second before he remembered your order and forced his eyes back down to you, chest heaving.

God. How many times had he imagined you on your knees just like this; sucking him slow and deep while you looked up at him with those pretty eyes?

Every single one of those fantasies paled. They were pathetic little shadows compared to the reality of you. The intense, electrifying heat that scorched every nerve ending as you lowered yourself again, sliding your sweet, wet mouth further down his shaft until he felt the back of your throat flutter around him. His hips jerked involuntarily, a choked “f-fuck—” ripping out of him before he could stop it.

Pleasure surged through him and he arched back sharply, the feeling so intense he nearly yanked out of your mouth. But he rode those waves, blood pounding hot through his veins as his cock throbbed with incredible bliss. You sucked him hard and sensually, lips stretched tight around him and cheeks hollowing as you milked more ecstasy from him than he'd ever felt in his life.

When you came back up you let him go with a wet pop and smiled up at him, eyes sparkling like you were enjoying the hell out of wrecking him. Your smile made his cock throb and jerk, and you chased it with your tongue and laughed, taking it back in with that delicious, silky warmth.

“Just like that—” Dex moaned, voice tight with ecstasy. He slid one hand into your hair, caressing first, then gripping the back of your neck like he needed something solid to hold onto. 

“It feels so good holy shit.” he breathed as you gradually increased your pace. You wrapped both hands around the base of his cock and started stroking in time with your mouth, faster now. Dex’s head dropped back against the couch again before dragging his gaze back down. He couldn’t miss this. Not for a single second.

His hand gently cradled and guided your head, fingers weaving through your hair as the overwhelming desire to lock you in place and thrust into your mouth consumed him. 

His free hand joined the first, sinking in and tightening his hold as the raw sensuality left him dizzy and breathless. He started rocking his hips slowly, testing, mesmerized by the way your eyes fluttered as you took him deeper.

But then you smiled around his cock and sucked harder. That was all it took.

Dex drove in faster, deeper, his cock slick and shiny with your spit as he thrust up your throat. You took him beautifully—until he forced just a little too far. Your throat fluttered, then clenched like a fist as you choked, the sloppy, gagging buzz shooting down his entire cock.

He froze for a second, glasses slipping down his nose, panic and lust warring on his face. 

“S-sorry—fuck, that’s so hot, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but don’t stop—please don’t stop—” He was panting, glasses fogged, hips still rocking again and again, savoring the way your throat squeezed every time you gagged softly around him. He couldn’t help it even while apologizing. 

You just hummed around him like you owned every inch, eyes watering but never breaking that locked-in stare, taking him even deeper on the next thrust, letting him fuck your throat raw. 

He was going to come. God dammit, he was going to explode like a firework in your mouth any second now.

But nope. You pulled off with a wet, filthy pop, lips shiny and puffy, a shiny string of spit still linking you to his throbbing tip like a naughty little bridge.

“W-why’d you stop?” he blurted, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Did I—did I do something wrong? Fuck, I’m sorry, I got carried away, I just— I was so close.”

You shook your head, flashing that wicked little grin as you crawled straight up his body and swung a leg over, straddling his lap like you were claiming the throne. One hand cupped those full, heavy, aching balls, rolling them nice and slow while you dragged your soaked pussy along the underside of his cock, slicking him up marking your territory.

“I’m not wasting a single drop of this,” you whispered, all husky and low, thumb stroking that crazy-sensitive spot right behind his balls. “You’re spilling every bit inside me.”

Dex looked like his brain had officially powered off. “I-inside you? Holy shit—aren’t you scared you might—?”

You chuckled and ground down harder, sliding all over him like you owned the ride. “Got any condoms stashed somewhere, cutie?” you asked, all innocent and sweet while your hips kept rolling.

Dex just gaped, fish-mouthed and speechless. “....no.”

You let out a bright, delighted little laugh and climbed off his lap, “Guess we’re doing this raw then, huh?” You flopped onto your back on the couch, hair fanning out across the cushions, and hooked your knees up high, feet planted on the edge.

With zero shame, you reached down and spread yourself open for him, two fingers parting your slick, puffy folds so he could see everything. Your little hole clenched visibly under his stare, shiny and dripping from how much you’d enjoyed choking on him.

“Look at what you did to me, Benjamin,” you purred. “See how fucking wet I am? It’s because of you. My poor little pussy’s been clenching around nothing the whole time I was sucking you off, just thinking about how you’re finally gonna stuff me full.”

Dex made a strangled noise, eyes glued to the way your fingers teased your entrance, dipping just the tip of one inside before pulling back to circle your clit. You were so ready and glistening and open for him it hurt.

“Mmm, you like the view, don’t you?” you teased, tilting your hips up a little more so he could see even deeper. “Look how this little hole keeps fluttering. It’s so empty, Dex. Been waiting months for this fat cock to stretch it open. You gonna give it to me? Gonna give me all that cum you’ve been saving for me every night? Or are you just gonna sit there staring like a cute little pervert while I play with myself?”

Dex’s glasses slipped down his nose again, “No, I’m going to give you anything you want.”

You just grinned wider, “Then come here and take what’s yours, nerd.”

He scrambled between your spread thighs like a man on a mission and a panic attack at the same time, knees sinking into the couch cushions. His hands shook as he gripped the backs of your thighs, lining himself up. The fat head of his cock nudged against your slick entrance and he actually whimpered at how hot and wet you felt.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’ll just… m-maybe, maybe you should be on top, you know?” he blurted. “S-so you’re, um… yeah, so y-you can, like, control it? I don’t wanna hurt—”

You laughed softly, reaching up to tug him closer by the back of his neck. “It’s fine, Dex.”

“I don’t—I don’t wanna squish you—” he tried again, eyes wide behind his glasses, cock throbbing against your pussy like it had a mind of its own.

You laughed, low and fond. “Just go, Dex.”

“Just go,” he echoed, half-laughing, half-panicking. “Yeah, just… uh. Uh. Uh. Fuck. Oh, fuck.”

The head slipped inside you, stretching you open in one smooth glide. Dex’s eyes dropped to where your bodies met and he forgot how to breathe entirely. You threw your head back and moaned as your pussy parted for him, taking every thick inch until he was buried to the hilt, heavy balls pressed against your ass.

“Oh shit,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “I’m inside you—you feel so fucking good.”

He pulled back slowly, and your pussy clenched around him like it didn’t want to let him go. Then he drove back in until his tip met a dead end, stretching you open all over again. You grabbed his right wrist and slapped his big palm straight onto your breast. His fingers squeezed hard on instinct. At the same time you caught his left hand and pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. 

The second he felt the wet heat of your mouth close around it, Dex’s eyes flew open wide behind his glasses. You sucked on his thumb like it was his cock, matching every thrust, moaning around it shamelessly.

“Jesus Christ,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “You’re—fuck, look at you. I’m not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that, baby. I swear I’m trying but you feel too good and you’re sucking on my thumb and I—oh my god—”

You just smiled around his thumb and sucked harder, never breaking eye contact, letting him feel exactly how much you wanted every desperate, awkward, perfect inch of him.

Dex couldn’t stop staring down between your bodies. His thick cock was sliding in and out of your pussy in these dragging strokes, shiny and glistening with how wet you were. Every time he pulled back he could see the way your folds stretched around him, clinging tight, and every time he pushed back in he watched himself disappear inside you until his hips met yours. He was completely obsessed with the sight, breathing hard through his mouth like he’d never seen anything so hot in his life.

Without thinking he slid his hand down from your breast and pressed the heel of his palm firmly against your lower stomach, right above where he was buried deep. The sudden pressure made everything feel impossibly tighter. You whined loud around his thumb, the sound vibrating against his skin as your pussy fluttered hard around his cock.

“Fuck—did that feel good?” he panted, eyes still glued to the spot where you were joined, pressing down a little harder as he thrusts.

As if guided by that lust alone, he began to thrust into a deep, forceful rhythm, his rigid cock stretching you each time. You moaned hummingly with each stroke, feeling the power of his hips as they slapped against you, imagining the strong muscles of his thighs flexing and straining to drive his cock into you deeper and harder every time. He crashed against you, his short breaths matching his pace, his moans of pleasure spiking as senseless words spilled from his lips.

You pulled his thumb from your mouth with a wet pop, grabbed his wrist again, and swapped it for the two fingers he'd buried inside you earlier, sucking it until your cheeks hollow.

Dex’s rhythm faltered for half a second, then slammed back in even harder.

“Holy shit I don't think I can’t take it,” he panted, voice cracking high and desperate. “I can’t take it. Ugh, you have to come soon. You have to come soon. Oh, fuck—”

He was panting and groaning as he thrust and bucked, hips snapping forward like he was chasing something he couldn’t quite catch. His eyes brightened with this wild, pleasure-pain look you’d never seen before; glassy, almost frantic, like he was right on the razor’s edge and hanging on by a thread. His glasses were crooked, hair sticking to his forehead, mouth open on every broken moan.

“I’m so close— I’m so fucking close but I need you to come first, please, I need to feel you coming on my cock before I fill you up, I can’t— I can’t hold it— fuck, please come for me—”

He was so close. You could feel it in the way his cock swelled even thicker inside you, the way his thrusts turned sloppy and urgent. He needed your release, your surrender, and he would detonate the second you gave it to him.

You reached up, grabbed his face with both hands, and pulled him down so your foreheads touched. “You can take it—keep going,” you gasped, voice shaky but firm. “Put your mouth on my neck, baby—right now.”

He obeyed instantly like the good, desperate boy he was. A quiet, “o-okay—yeah, fuck, okay” tumbled out of him as he dipped his head. You gasped and swallowed hard, tilting your chin back to give him more room, your whole body shaking with the force of every thrust. One of your hands slid between your bodies so you could rub tight, frantic circles over your clit, chasing that last spark.

Dex’s lips found your throat first, kissing the throbbing pulse there, then his tongue dragged up the side of your neck in one long, wet stripe. When it danced along the shell of your earlobe you shivered hard, a full-body tremble that made your pussy clench around him. And when he dipped the tip of his tongue right inside your ear you sobbed.

“F-fuck, I love it when you moan like that.” he whimpered against your ear.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged, forcing his mouth back to your neck while your fingers kept rubbing faster. “Say dirty things to me, Dex,” you panted, voice husky. “Tell me how good I feel. Tell me what you’re gonna do when you come inside me. Don’t stop talking.”

“Yeah—fuck, I’m trying,” Dex panted against your skin, hips snapping forward in these desperate little thrusts. “If I talk to you, you’ll come, right? Yeah? I want that. I want you to come so fucking bad—”

You nodded hard. “Yes—fuck, yes! Just say all the nasty shit you say to yourself when you jerk off thinking about me.”

“Fuck, listen to you,” he groaned, suddenly finding his rhythm. “Sucking my cock earlier like you wanted to steal my soul, choking on it like a greedy little whore, and now you’re begging me to pump you full?” He slammed into you hard. “You want this fat load in your pussy that bad?” Another brutal thrust. “After months of prancing around in those tiny dresses, bending over right in front of me just to watch me lose my goddamn mind?” Slam. 

“God, you’re such a dirty fucking slut for your nerdy roommate’s cock, aren’t you?” He licked into your ear, hips pounding harder. “That’s it—rub that clit faster, baby. I’m gonna flood this sloppy little cunt until it’s dripping down your thighs. Come on my cock—come on, come on—”

“Oh fuck—Dex!” Your whole body seized in a convulsive orgasm, pussy clamping down around him, milking his cock as you screamed against his shoulder. 

He cried out and flooded into you, bucking and thrusting as your pussy drained him. Slick with sweat you writhed together, your voices echoing through the room, your cries and moans mingling as you milked him, drained him, sucked every drop of cum from his pulsing cock as he emptied himself into you completely.

His rhythm finally gave out and he melted into you, still shuddering deep inside while the last of his cum spilled free. Every twitch was met with your walls hugging him tight, like they were determined to wring him dry and keep him forever—the same way you’d just been completely his. Both of you panting hard, bodies flushed and shiny with sweat, you lay there pressed together, still connected, floating in that beautiful, ageless after-sex haze.

You were heaving, chest rising and falling under him. “Holy shit…”

Dex lifted up on shaky arms, glasses crooked, hair a sweaty mess, and gazed down at you like you’d personally hung the moon. His hazel eyes were soft and dazed and so full of wonder it made your chest ache. He leaned in slowly, lips parting like he was about to kiss you for real this time—

—and then the unmistakable sound of a key sliding into the front door lock echoed through the apartment.

Both of you froze.

“Shit—shitshitshit—” Dex whisper-yelled, scrambling off you so fast he nearly fell off the couch. While you both snatched up whatever clothes you could reach.

“My room—now!” You hissed, dragging Dex who is clutching his sweats and hoodie like a lifeline as you yanked behind you as fast as your shaky legs would go. Your room was closest and didn’t face the front door—thank god.

You barely made it inside, slamming the door behind you just as the living room lights flicked on. Dex pressed himself flat against the wall right behind the door, stark naked, cock still half-hard and glistening, one hand clamped over his mouth so he wouldn’t breathe too loud. 

You snatched your short silk robe off the chair and threw it on, barely tying it before—

Knock knock knock.

“Hey, what’s taking you so long?” your roommate called through the door, voice bright and clueless. “We’re all waiting for you at the pool!”

You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal and failing spectacularly. “Sorry! Couldn’t find my swimwear. I’ll be there in a sec!”

Dex’s eyes were huge behind his glasses. He looked like he was one second from passing out.

You heard her footsteps start to retreat...then stop, “Uh… your bikini top is literally on the couch out here.”

“Oh really?” you called back, somehow managing to sound breezy even though you were standing there in nothing but a barely-tied silk robe with your very naked, very well-fucked roommate hiding behind the door. “I must’ve dropped it. I’ll grab it soon! You should go ahead, I won’t be long!”

You heard your roommate laugh under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like "okay weirdo.” before her footsteps finally padded away down the hall. The front door clicked shut behind her.

Dex let out a huge, shaky breath, shoulders sagging like the weight of the entire universe had just lifted off him.

“You… you should go,” he mumbled, voice all hoarse and uncertain as he rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re waiting for you at the pool and I— I don’t wanna get them suspicious of you or anything…”

You didn’t answer with words.

Instead, you walked straight up to him, rose onto your highest tiptoes, and pressed your body flush against his. The thin silk robe did almost nothing to separate your skin from his.

You cupped his face with both hands and kissed him once—soft and sweet, tasting the leftover desperation on his lips. Then again, a little slower. And a third time, lingering like you were promising more.

When you finally pulled back just enough to speak, your lips still brushed his.

burn out is something you’ve dealt with multiple times in your life, it was something you just couldn’t avoid living in a world that was so far from accommodating for your disability. but this time it was different, cause it was the first one you’ve had since getting with Dex. life had become too much, everything running you down until you crumbled under the pressure, and now, you were in bed all day, your mind and body too overwhelmed with it all. and Dex was beyond concerned, it was one big meltdown, and after that, you were different, almost empty. you cried, you were constantly tired, sleeping all day, couldn’t get yourself to the bath, to change your clothes, it was all too much. but Dex was patient, he had to be, or else you could shut down even more. he stayed by your side through it all.

he’d help you to the bath, helping you wash your hair and body since you were just exhausted to even think of it yourself, he was careful, making sure not to set off any sensory issues, all the while being thorough so it’d last longer. giving you breaks whenever you’d get overwhelmed, quietly praising you “you’re doing so good sweetheart”, and comforting you when you’d suddenly feel uncomfortable, “i know, we’re almost done, i promise” he’d wipe your quiet tears, rinsing your hair, getting all the shampoo out so you wouldn’t feel the sting as it dried. drying off your hair and brushing it for you, making you feel nice and clean without the usual exhaustion that’d burn into you if had done it yourself.

the burnout had made everything way more difficult, your sensory issues going haywire, becoming even more sensitive to sound, light, smell, and touch. so much so, that the simple feeling of anyone brushing against your skin hurt, that was something Dex found the most difficult in this time, him simply touching you could hurt you. he couldn’t help but get insecure about it, the way you’d recoil at his small casual touches, and he knew you didn’t mean to hurt him with your reaction, having tears in your eyes, your face filled with confusion and discomfort, but he couldn’t keep that part of him deep inside from thinking that you hated him, that you despised having him around. “i’m sorry! i didn’t mean—“ choking on his words, eyes burning with tears as he watched you try and fix your pain, shaking your head wanting him to know that it wasn’t his fault; but being too overwhelmed to speak. hugging him tightly once you’ve calmed down, “sorry” being the only thing you could mutter as you took his hands, placing them around you in a way that didn’t hurt, Dex understanding immediately and did as instructed, thankful that you were able to show him how he could touch you without being harmful.

on the good days, you’d try and help out around the apartment as much as you could, hanging out the laundry, sweeping the floors, the simple things at first, but when you tried something that took a little more effort and thought, you just couldn’t. then you realized that your ability to do things (that you could’ve easily do before) had regressed, you felt like such a failure, and the self loathing came down on you like a load of bricks, “so stupid— i hate it, hateithateithateit” your fists pounded against your head as you cried in frustration. hyperventilating as you started to see spots in your vision, you felt Dex hastily wrapped his arms around you, restraining your arms. the vague sound of his voice moved through your ears like a fog, raw cries ripped from your throat, your mind drowning in a delirious disgust of yourself, “so fucking useless—!” your voice broke, strained and painful as you just cried into the air. he pressed his face into your back, you could feel the vibration of his voice against your ribs but all you could hear was your own desperate gasps for air. he held you as you crumbled into the floor, and just sat with you, his forehead resting on your shoulder blade, quietly whispering unheard comfort to you, letting you just cry it out until you just became a whimpering mess with your face buried in your knees. quietly sniffling as you felt his thumb gently caressing your knuckles, your ears sore from the pressure in your head, “shh shh sh… you’re not useless, you’re perfect..” he whispered into your aching heart, leaning into his touch, letting out a small whimper as you turned into him, burying your face into his neck, “there you are honey..”

seeing your state, the way you felt so empty from exhaustion, losing your sense of self to the searing tension in your nervous system, it was horrible. Dex couldn’t bear it, it tore at him every second, it was as if there was an invisible force torturing you for months on end while he just had to stand there and watch. he’d do anything, anything, to end this pain. so if you needed him to hold you and take care of you, that’d be nothing, being more than happy to do that and more if it made your day even a little better. gladly being your caretaker, he just wanted you to feel happy and secure again.

even your speech was different, and you knew it. suddenly getting brain fog and just completely forgetting words you’ve previously known in that moment, often getting frustrated with yourself as your words just come out scrambled, put together completely wrong from what you had in mind, and of course, the feeling of your tongue being all wrong, your manner of speaking becoming clearly off, feeling as if you had become tongue tied over nothing. it was so exhausting, so much so that you didn’t even want to speak anymore, just to avoid that humiliation your tongue gave you every time you opened your mouth. Dex seeing and hearing your frustration, he’d keep coaxing you to speak, not wanting you to completely shut down, “i understand baby, i know it’s hard” murmuring into your hair as you laid on his chest covering your face, embarrassed. looking for any excuse to get you talking, his eyes fixated on one of your books, remembering how much you’d ramble on about it in the past. he kisses your head, catching your attention, “could you tell me about it?” he’d ask softly, brushing his finger over the cover, you moved your hands off your face and saw what he was talking about and almost instantly, your heart spiked in excitement, nodding your head before slowly stuttering into your vocal essay, still stopping here and there when you’d mess up your words, but the pure joy forcing you to continue on as he listened intently.

your days blending together as you end up doing the same few things everyday so you wouldn’t get overwhelmed with any sudden changes. Dex would make you dinner and breakfast every day, the same food every day, though he’d always ask if you wanted something else just in case, but the answer always remained the same. while he was gone at work, you’d spend most of your time in bed, on your phone, or in the living room watching movies and tv, the same thing every day like a routine. it was comfortable, but brain numbing, which was exactly what you wanted for a while, until you didn’t. waking up one night feeling restless, Dex being woken from the feeling of you getting up from bed, padding over to the dresser putting on one of his hoodies then walking out of the bedroom, “honey— whatareyoudoing..” he grunted, eyes squinting as he sat up. then he heard you put on your shoes and he shot up, fully awake. “baby where..” he walked up behind you, watching as you struggled to tie your shoelaces in your pjs, “what are you doing?” he asked carefully, “want out” your sleepy murmur being barely audible, Dex sighed softly, getting down in front of you, taking your hands, kissing them before tying your shoes for you, “it’ll be cold out” he reminded you, making you hum, “how about we put on some warmer clothes and i’ll go with you, ‘kay?” you nodded your head to his suggestion, getting on a warm sweater under his hoodie and then your jacket as he got dressed too, going on a late walk in the cool spring night, Dex smiling to himself as you had finally gone out for the first time in weeks.

the quiet moments after Dex came home from work was when the two of you were the most at peace, enjoying each other’s company without needing to fill the air with words. sitting cuddled up on the sofa, the tv on low volume, or just relaxing in bed, as he laid beside you, eyes fixed on you as you sat there, watching you rock your body back and forth with your headphones on, your face completely peaceful. he loved seeing you like this, mind resting, calm.

slowly feeling like yourself again, the constant tension in your body dissipating with time, feeling relieved that it didn’t last as long as you knew it could’ve, remembering that your previous burnout had lasted years. but with Dex and the constant support he’s given you; helped you get ‘out’ of your burnout faster than you’ve ever before, being able to live normally again after only half a year or so, now holding back on your masking a lot more, only doing it if you have to, living unmasked and free, being able to deal with your struggles with a lot more ease.

being so grateful for Dex, him having dealt with it every day, not making you feel bad for your condition, not once. even as you screamed, cried your lungs out, and hurt yourself. or the opposite, when you just shut completely down, shutting him out. he stayed, waiting by your side no matter what. he wasn’t someone who’d just abandon you when things got tough, he sticked through, which is a lot more than a lot of others would have done.

Ben says in a voice that sounds annoyed but you know the truth behind it. He has just entered your apartment on a Tuesday evening with damp hair and a t-shirt that clings to his biceps in a way that feels a little unfair. Penny is walking circles around his legs, rubbing her face against his shins and desperately asking for a pet. Ben obliges, leaning down so he can scratch the top of her head before he scoops her up, holding her like a baby with one arm. Her little head is tucked in between his forearm and chest and he strokes at the white fur on her belly even though she paws at his fingers playfully. 

“So needy, what a needy little girl.” Ben says softly, speaking in the funny, baby voice that he only uses for Penny. It tugs at your heart and you watch fondly as Penny licks the fabric of his shirt and Ben presses a kiss onto the side of her face. He walks over to where you’re curled up on the couch, already showered and in your pj’s, waiting for your boyfriend to get home because work kept him late. It’s almost time for bed but Dex insisted that he come over for a little bit. ‘I can’t go without seeing my girls.’ He said over the phone and you cracked a smile at the way he said ‘his girls’, because it’s sweet that he understands how important Penny is to you. 

He lets Penny scramble out of his hold and she jumps back onto your couch and settles on the arm of it next to you as Dex leans in and presses a warm, chaste kiss on your lips. He smells minty-fresh and he hasn’t shaved in a few days so his blond stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your spine tingle. When he sits down next to you and presses into your side you can’t help but smother him in a few more kisses of your own.

Penny waltzes down from her spot on the armrest so she can sit on Ben’s blanket covered lap. Her little white paws begin to make biscuits on his thighs and Ben hisses slightly when her claws dig into his flesh through the blanket and his sweats. 

“Naughty baby.” He says, rubbing the top of her head which makes her let out a teeny-tiny meow that you always find so endearing.

+++ 

You consider yourself lucky that Ben is the type of guy who likes cats. There were so many horror stories online where girls talked about how their boyfriends made them get rid of their cats or never took the time to get to know them. It was always a red flag if a guy said they didn’t like cats or animals in general.

Cats are arguably the most perfect pets. They’re small, require attention but not too much, are clean, and do not have to be let outside to use the bathroom. Cats were always appealing to you because of how independent they are, never begging for attention like dogs. In fact, the concept of having to earn their affection was always much more appealing rather than the unwavering and immediate loyalty that a dog provides. Cats give you space, cats don’t take up a bunch of space, cats treat you with respect. You always thought that the only excuse to not have a cat would be if you had an allergy. 

It always irked you when people openly despised cats. Dog people always complained about them which you found disheartening. While you appreciated all animals, dogs were never best suited for you. They were too high energy and needed more space than you could provide, plus the yeasty smell of them was never appealing to you. You liked other people’s dogs instead and anytime you and Ben were out for a walk and someone walking past had a dog, you always said hello. Truth be told you always had a special fondness for large dogs. Great Danes were rare in the city but you had come across a few of them in the past few years and the funny way they walked with their too-tall legs and their floppy cheeks was ridiculously cute. But large dogs were especially out of the picture for you, way too much money and work than what you could provide and the lifespan of larger dogs was no match for the lifespan of an indoor cat. 

“I think if you were a dog you’d be a Belgian Malinois.” You said one evening while feeding the birds. Ben was at your side holding your bag of seed and his face contorted into a crooked smile. 

“Oh yeah?” He asked, bringing the bag closer to you so you could grab another handful. The birds were especially ravenous that evening, crows cawed and doves cooed loudly at your feet. A few even pecked at the rubber of your shoe. “What makes you say that?”

You throw another arc of seed onto the ground and watch as all the animals break into a frenzy at the possibility of getting more food. A squirrel hops up onto the arm of the bench next to you so you go rigid, watching it scramble for scraps out of the corner of your eye. Ben is equally as stoic, the smile still on his face as he patiently waits for your response. 

“Your face is sharp like a Malinois and their short fur makes them look clean and well groomed, just like you.” You murmur, trying not to disturb the squirrel as it eats stray seeds that fell into the cracks of the wood. “And you’re protective, just like them.”

“Hmm.” Dex hummed. The squirrel jumped down from the bench and joined the others. “There’s a malinois in the K9 unit at the department.” He says cooley, watching the animals peck at the ground, he throws his own handful of seed in a much wider, pretty arc than you can accomplish.

“Yeah?” You lean your head onto his shoulder and he automatically kisses your head. “What’s his name?”

“Killer.”

An apt name.

+++

If Ben was anyone else you might actually be jealous that Penny likes him more than you. 

She’s still very sweet with you, especially when it’s just the two of you. She still sits on the couch with you, sleeps in the bed with you, nudges your fingers with her nose when you’re reading; but if Ben’s around she just prefers to do all those things with him instead. You can’t blame her, Ben is much bigger and broader. His thighs are better for sitting on, he always smells like clean laundry, and he always gives the best back scratches. It also helped that Ben always kept treats in his pockets even though you told him Penny was on a balanced diet. 

“You’re bad.” You joked one time, standing in your kitchen with your boyfriend as Penny swirled at your feet. Ben had been caught red handed feeding the cat a slice of deli ham, a delicacy for Penny. Poking at the dent in his sternum you tease, “You’re being naughty!” with a smile pressed on your face but Ben’s mouth is downturned.

“I-I am?”

Uh oh. Ben only stutters when he’s upset or caught off guard. He’s already flushing up to his ears as he blinks rapidly, lip trembling. The hazel in his eyes is almost all gone, in the sunlight his eyes look almost golden but in the shadows of your kitchen they appear black. It feels like the air surrounding the two of you has gone cold.

“No, no,” You say with a small voice, your pointed finger on his chest turning into a soothing and reassuring palm, “I was just joking.” Leaning up on your tip-toes you press a soft kiss to his cheek and Ben is already leaning in for the affection. He turns his head so he can kiss you properly, a firm hand holding your waist. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, forehead leaning against yours just the way he likes it. “I’ll stop, I didn’t mean it.” Something about the way his voice sounds so vulnerable has you weak in the knees but you’ll never admit that to him. 

“It’s alright Ben.” Your hands smooth the fabric of quarter-zip across his chest and grip onto his broad shoulders. His muscles are always so tense, like he carries the weight of the world on them even though no one is asking him to. 

“I just want to be good.” He says softly, you peak up at him when he says it but he’s refusing to make eye contact. Bashful and a little embarrassed, it’s endearing. Sometimes when he catches himself getting worked up he acts similar to a kid being scolded.

“You are good. Especially to Penny.”

At that he cracks a small smile and you giggle as Penny is still vying for his attention, trying to climb up his leg so she can lick at his fingers. If anyone is naughty it’s her. 

+++

It was a miserable Saturday. 

When you checked your phone the night before you knew there would be rain but you didn’t expect a raging thunderstorm that would span the entire day. A storm that bad meant the market was closed which meant you wouldn’t be able to get a new bouquet for the week. You huffed as you stared at the wilting flowers in your vase, some of the petals of the peonies had already fallen off. With a sigh you threw it in the trash and washed out the mason jar you were using to hold them. 

To top it all off Ben had to go into work which meant you spent your day doing laundry and painting your fingernails. Not necessarily a terrible day, but it felt worse because doing anything with Ben was better than being alone. Around 3 o’clock you had already showered because there was nothing better to do and settled into the corner of your couch under a heavy blanket. Blue Planet was playing on the television and the window was cracked even though you knew Ben would throw a fit if he saw it open, he was very concerned that you could catch a cold. Eventually the soft noises of the ocean as well as the rain outside had you falling asleep even though you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t, Ben was supposed to be home soon. 

When you woke up your mouth felt dry and your left arm was almost completely asleep due to it being pinned under your head. The blue-gray afternoon was gone and replaced with black, drizzly skies. The only light on in the apartment was the lamp near your door where Ben was standing in fresh clothes and slightly dampened hair. 

“Hi sweetheart.” He said in that small, baby voice that he only used it for Penny. When you had drifted off to sleep she was curled up at your side, her strands of fur tickling your cheek. The second she heard Ben unlocking your door you are sure she went running. You watched as Ben scratched behind her ears which made Penny let out a raspy meow, eyes closed in bliss as he rubbed her face. “Is mama napping?” He asked, if you weren’t half asleep you would’ve laughed at being called ‘mama’, something Ben had never referred to you as except apparently to Penny.

“What time is it?” You ask, wiping sleep off your face and attempting to reorient yourself. Ben stalks over to you and helps you sit up on the couch, then wraps you in a warm hug. Teakwood clings to his freshly washed skin.

“Almost eight, I got off later than expected. Did you eat dinner?” When you timidly answer ‘no’ and explain how you fell asleep when it was still the afternoon, Ben pokes at your chest with a smile and says, “Naughty.” which makes you grin and press a kiss to his nose. He helps you off the couch and moves through your kitchen with familiarity that makes you feel fond. 

Neither of you are hungry, your nap killed your appetite and Ben had a late lunch at work, so he cooks scrambled eggs that you share off the same plate. Just as you remember that you still need to feed Penny, Ben places a kiss on your temple and says he’ll take care of it. You watch as he cooks a separate scrambled egg just for her, placing it in a small pink dish that you use for her wet food.

“Good baby.” Ben coos, scratching the top of Penny’s head as she scarfs down her treat. If Penny didn’t like Ben more than you before, she definitely does now. How could you be mad? Ben was basically perfect. 

That night you read five chapters of Dune aloud as Ben lays his head in your lap and Penny is curled up on his. He falls asleep as you comb your fingers through his short, blond hair, and his own fingers are carding through Penny’s fur. 

+++

This was a request than a lovely anon sent in a few weeks ago so hopefully I did it justice. Obviously our Pretty Privilege ready has a fondness for animals, especially cats, so this one is for all the cat lovers out there. I see you, I feel you, I love you. 

+++

Give your pet a hug!

You stopped your frantic dance in readying yourself, pulling your door open to see your handsome neighbour. It had been months of flirtatious remarks, constant knocking on the other's door for help, and absolutely no progression of these feelings. Dex was not the type to initiate sex, not unless he was ravenous. But with you, he liked to wait. He would wait patiently until it felt right.

"I could kiss you right now." You sighed, taking the iced latte from his hands and sucking at the straw with vigour. "How did you know I slept in?"

Dex chose to ignore your comment about kissing him, because he knew if he put a second of thought into it, he'd have a raging hard on. So he swallowed it down, and released a blunt laugh.

"I usually cross paths with you on my way back from my run, and I didn't this morning." He wasn't convinced by his lie, let alone you. "I like routine. I'm observant."

"I've noticed." You smiled. "Thanks for the coffee. I need to go before my boss fires me."

"Can't be so bad, I know you hate working for that asshole." Dex paced away from your door, but his eyes remained on you. Your half-buttoned blouse that he was actively ignoring, with your sleep shorts and unbrushed hair. Perfect.

You would never wake up late if it were up to him. He would force you into his routine. He would wake you once he'd returned from his run, with a coffee, then as you got dressed, he would make you breakfast. And send you out the door with a kiss and ample commute time. No need to forget about locking your door, giving Dex access to your life.

He couldn't deny himself when he'd received your text.

You: Forgot to lock my fucking door. You: Are you home today? You: Will you keep an eye on it? Too far out to turn back now.

Dex: Of course.

You: Thanks Dex :)

He sat on your couch, convincing himself it would be safer if he were in it. Can't just stare through his peephole all day. He toured your apartment, tutted at the barren contents of your fridge, observed the magnets aligning the door, arranged your cupboards because your organisation made him sick. He learned you. Learned how you posed for photos in the frames lining your walls, learned your favourite musicians through your extensive vinyl collection, and learned your favourite flowers were roses because you had a scrapbook dedicated to pressing them.

You thought your day would be fine, just a minor hiccup in the morning that you would make up by staying later. But it had only just started rolling downhill. You had been given a big account, perhaps through your boss' pettiness of your tardiness, or the reason he shoved in your face.

"You are one of our most efficient employees. I trust this will be worked through meticulously."

Not only were you given the biggest account your firm had seen in months, but you had been given the role of trainer to the interns who would undoubtedly sit and watch you work alone. No amount of coffee, cigarettes or alcohol would help you get through this, and suddenly the tranquility of your weekend had been stomped on.

TUESDAY had been the opposite to your late start yesterday. You woke early, beaten the sun in rising from your bed and quietly gathering your work things. Dex had always been an early riser, frowning at the sound of your door clicking shut at nearly six in the morning.

He fought to find excuses to text you, considering breaking something inside your apartment just to send you a text. But he shook himself from those thoughts. He drafted so many messages, all stupid and swiftly deleted.

Saw you left early, good luck today. Work kicking your ass already? Want me to buy you dinner and let you rant to me about it?

Meanwhile, you were trapped in a meeting with your interns and their many eager questions. Your usually polite tone slipping the further you drained your coffee mug, your third coffee of the day. Dex would inevitably kill you over your caffeine intake. That ticker of yours is gonna seize one day, sweetheart, he would always say, whilst handing you your coffee.

What made it worse was the lack of support, it felt like your colleagues— your boss', were all laughing at you through the windows of the meeting room. Smirking at the barrage of young interns swarming you with hypotheticals. You hoped you would lose the account, and lose some reputation in the process, and live out the rest of your career with the same clients, same emails, same meeting, same salary. Same bland, old life.

Returning home felt like stepping out of a concert into a padded room. The dramatic shift in busyness and volume felt eerie and unsettling, you hungered to soak in a scalding hot bath all night. If your legs would get you up to your apartment.

"Oh, hey sweetheart." You heard from behind you in the stairwell, craning your head down to see Dex on his way up too. The sight of your face made his drop. "Everything okay?"

"I think you were right." You huffed, a blunted laugh trailed off as you thought back to yesterday. "Can't be too bad to be fired. I might quit if this week doesn't kill me first."

Dex laughed, a hand on the small of your back bringing forth every ounce of energy you had left. His gaze had always been so concentrated, like it was yours entirely. Not meant for anyone else in that moment.

"Do it. Smart girl like you oughta have options." He smiled. "Worth more than whatever they're doing to you."

His words sat with you, through your measly dinner, your hour long bath, the hours where you should be trying to get some sleep. But instead you thought about Dex, and how sickeningly sweet he was. Always the friendly neighbour, sometimes gave you a show when you knocked on his door early enough. The memory of him, shirtless with a kitchen towel over his shoulder, had you running to your bedroom to deal with the ache in your stomach.

WEDNESDAY felt monotonous. You had settled into a rhythm with the interns, and instead of wishing the world would stand still. You wished for it to speed up. Your eight hour day felt sixteen hours long, your lunch break the only gasp of air you got until you left that evening. You abandoned all hope the moment you got home, not able to muster the energy to unlock your door. Instead standing with your head pressed against it, eyes burning as you closed them in total exhaustion.

"Hungry?"

You felt something tap your calf, pulling your head back to see Dex stood with two white plastic bags in his arms. "Ravenous."

He only gestured his head for you to follow him into his apartment, instructing you to sit on the couch as he plated the takeout. You had gotten comfortable within seconds, trying to focus on his barren walls and minimal decor before your eyes fluttered shut once more. Sleep taking you far quicker than it did most nights.

Dex held the plates in hand, halting at you curled up on his couch. Fast asleep, bottom lip jutted out as you snored softly. He wanted to let you rest, God knows you needed it, but then he remembered your fridge. And how empty it had been, only tutting at your poor attempt at nutrition.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, dismissing the plates onto the coffee table to prod at your cheek, "you gotta wake up for me. C'mon."

You stirred, eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar fabric of the couch. And then the tall, handsome man hovering over you with a smirk on his face. "Oh fuck, sorry. I'm so tired."

"I know. But you gotta eat for me." He spoke so softly, doing very little to help you stay awake. Even as he handed you a plate. "Work kicking your ass?"

You scoffed. "Don't I know it. Asshole put me on with five bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, know-it-all interns. With one of the biggest accounts in months."

"Sounds like an asshole." Dex commented between bites, though he only really focused on you. The way your eyes were half-lidded with sleep, the way you spoke with such expression, the way your toes wiggled as you ate.

"I can't wait till I find a better job. Or that asshole dies, or something." You muttered into your fork, though Dex would've had every reason to take it literally if you hadn't laughed shortly after.

"What's so funny?" He asked, smiling as you did. He had a habit of mimicking you as you emoted. You even called him out on it, passing it as an adorably observant trait.

"Last weekend, I was out on the lake at sunrise with a cup of coffee and not a soul around." You reminisced, thinking back to your friends lake house, and what you would do to go back. "I wake up far earlier than my friends, so I'd have two hours completely alone."

"Sounds nice."

"And now I've got a cult of wise asses watching me 24/7, waiting for me to fuck up my job." You groaned. "I've hit rock bottom."

Once dinner was done, Dex cleared the dishes away as you gathered your things. He'd even walked you to your door, like a gentleman, with your arm laced within his. Physical affection so casual to you, but it would stain his mind forever.

"Thanks for dinner, Dex." You smiled. "Was really nice, we should do it again sometime."

He stared down at you, kicking and screaming at his brain to stop being so weak and just act for once. He even jerked his head forward, forcing himself to do something, but you yawned. He had claimed defeat tonight, though it had not been a total loss. Having you in his apartment, comfortable enough to sleep on his couch, sharing dinner with him. That was a victory for him.

"Night, Dex."

THURSDAY had been the worst of all. You hadn't passed Dex on your way out the door, nor had you received some random text of a funny graffiti tag he'd spotted on his run. Nothing at all. You found yourself craving his attention— his presence. It felt necessary, like you needed air to breathe.

Work felt so bland and grey, you slumped at your desk for hours just scrolling through your conversations with Dex. He would often text you at random times, with perfected grammar and punctuation. And you would respond with shortened words and emojis. It felt like you were texting your dad at times.

But no amount of his strangely formal texts could save you from the cliff edge you sat on, being given a deadline for every report only you would be able to complete. Reports you should've started earlier in the week, but couldn't because you were also training the interns. It felt as if the world was working against you, and with Dex being AWOL, it felt even worse.

You had hoped returning home would make you feel better, maybe pass your handsome neighbour with some new words of encouragement. But nothing. Not a knock at your door as you cooked dinner, or played your music too loud to get his attention. And not even when you'd given up trying, and settled for knocking at his door.

No answer.

Again, you knocked. You knew he wore his headphones a lot, perhaps he just couldn't hear you.

"Dex? You in there?" You called out.

Nothing.

And so you spent your evening alone, your bed not as comfortable as his couch. Your dinner not as flavoursome as the takeout he ordered. Your apartment felt silent, the quiet droning of reruns weren't enough to settle you.

FRIDAY had been your breaking point. Once again, no Dex to wave you off in the morning for work. No texts, though you hadn't looked at your phone all day. You were working double time to finish the reports, to answer every interns question to the best of your knowledge, with a forced smile. You had even worked through lunch to get more done, your stomach scolding you in the late afternoon.

And alas, it had all been for nothing. You lost the account, the pressure had grown too much. And so you slumped in defeat, having cried in your car for forty minutes until you felt capable enough to drive home. You had been dragged through Hell by your hair this week, with little care or concern from your boss. Or your colleagues. Not offer to help lighten your load, instead watching to see when you'd snap.

You had nothing in your fridge, you knew that. But you ignored every grocery store you drove past, wanting nothing more than your bed. You had felt so different this time last week, leaving work early to pick your friends up and drive out of town. And now, you were ready to kiss employment goodbye.

The climb to your apartment felt endless, legs aching and vision blurred through tears. But a pop of colour had broken through your bleak look at life, a collection of blue gathered at the handle of your door. You furrowed your brows, approaching the hue of blue to inspect it.

It had been a bouquet of roses, blue roses. Tucked into the handle of your door, a card attached to the woven string around the stems.

Best thing about rock bottom is you can only go up. Love, Dex.

You freed the flowers from your door handle, twisting the bouquet in your hand as you fought the tears falling from your eyes. It had all been too much, but these? It had sent you over the edge in a softer way, such a small gesture of affection weighed more than anything else in this moment.

You knocked at his door, the light under his door dimming as he approached you. His door had barely opened fully before you threw yourself at him, arms tightly wrapped around his chest as you cried into him.

"Woah, hey." His hands pet your hair, trying to detach you from him so he could look at you. "What's going on?"

"This work week kicked my ass." You cried, allowing him to brush the tears away with his thumbs. It felt nice to be cradled in the way he held you, like everything would be okay. "I lost the account, didn't keep up to date with my reports. I screwed up."

"You did your best." Dex mumbled into your hair once you had hidden into him once more. "That's all you can do. Can't bend over backwards for these assholes."

You sniffled, until your tears stopped. "Thank you for these, they're beautiful."

"You like 'em?" He asked, proud smile on his face as you admired them once more. "Went out of town just to get 'em. Not a florist in this damn city sells them, would you believe that?"

You chuckled. "You went out of town for these? That's where you were yesterday?"

"Why? Did you miss me?" He joked, fully expecting you to laugh, maybe look away.

But you nodded. "Stood banging at your door for twenty minutes, then went to bed and cried."

He pouted. "Oh, sweetheart. Come here."

His arms were big, tight around your body. It felt protective, like how you'd imagine feeling truly safe felt. He squeezed you so hard your brain had shut off, didn't question how he knew you loved roses, or how he knew your favourite colour was blue. You appreciated the gesture, and that had been all you cared about.

⌖“This is for you” he holds out a bullet casing in an open palm

“That’s so sweet” you say in a small voice “thank you” you carefully place it in a ceramic trinket dish on your bedside table.

“It reminded me of you” he explains “Did you know every bullet casing is unique? Like a human fingerprint or a snowflake.”

“I did not know that” you admit. You prepare your area for bed. Essential oils, chapstick, crystals lined up just so, phone plugged in. Your routine might be considered neurotic to some, but to him it’s totally normal. Justified even.

⌖ You hyperfixate on things. When you like something, you really like something. You both have a tendency to latch on and never let go. This applies to books and hobbies you enjoy, foods you like, and of course, each other. Why would you be interested in anyone else when you have Dex? You like your person. And you know what you like. It’s comforting to know he feels the same way too. He centers you as his fixation. Instead of “good night, I love you” which most couples exchange before bed, his parting words are “mine, mine, mine”.

⌖ Neither of you like crowds, but going out together is still something you enjoy. A drive bar earlier than peak hours, or a quiet wine bar late at night. He’ll only drink a light beer, two if there’s cause for celebration. Never enough to actually get affected or slowed in the slightest. This time, you’re at the former, returning to where Dex sits at a secluded table after a quick pop to the bathroom.

As you cross the room a man nods at you "Hey, how are ya?"

You stare right past him, face blank and distant, ignoring his hand brushing your arm. You reach Dex at the other side of the space and beam up at him.

"That guy tried to talk to you" his jaw is tensed, halfway rising out of this chair, eyes flicking down to you and back at the row of men standing at the bar. The one brushed your arm, the others ogled your arse as passed.

"Who? I didn't even notice" you shrug.

⌖Your sense of humor is not well received by some. You laugh at things that others would ignore or cringe at. You two trade inside jokes back and forth but to an outside perspective, it would seem you were having two separate conversations. The exchange leaves you clutching your side in stitches and joy flickering behind his eyes.

⌖ You are so good. And particularly selective with who you spend your time with. Your resolute sense of right and wrong grounds him and makes him feel like he must be doing something right, to have you in his life.