The belief that I matter. Regardless of what I do or don't achieve.
I watched this ep while deep in my cycle of depression, and I replayed this bit over and over and over (I still do!!). Mine eyes were indeed DAMP, yessiree. Bc it pushed home what I'd just talked with my therapist about: I completed a task today, and while that is an achievement I can be proud of, it doesn't define the reason I can be satisfied with myself. Bc my value isn't in what I do or do not achieve, but bc I am inherently worth valuing and I don't have to earn my existence.
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I'm sure that's true, but something tells me googling "nun tied up by other nuns" "hot wax" "confessing sins" will likely get what you might call rather un-academic results
if you were wondering i strongly suspect the nun in question is st. mary magdalen de' pazzi. here some further things she had the other nuns do to her:
she was indeed a certified freak.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Magdalene_de%27_Pazzi <- wikipedia article mentions the wax thing
https://archive.org/details/LifeOfStMaryMagdaleneOfPazzi <-link to the book i found on her from which the page is from.
"But AI can't do your job. It can help you do your job, but that doesn't mean it's going to save anyone money. Take radiology: there's some evidence that AIs can sometimes identify solid-mass tumors that some radiologists miss, and look, I've got cancer. Thankfully, it's very treatable, but I've got an interest in radiology being as reliable and accurate as possible.
If my Kaiser hospital bought some AI radiology tools and told its radiologists: "Hey folks, here's the deal. Today, you're processing about 100 x-rays per day. From now on, we're going to get an instantaneous second opinion from the AI, and if the AI thinks you've missed a tumor, we want you to go back and have another look, even if that means you're only processing 98 x-rays per day. That's fine, we just care about finding all those tumors."
If that's what they said, I'd be delighted. But no one is investing hundreds of billions in AI companies because they think AI will make radiology more expensive, not even if that also makes radiology more accurate. The market's bet on AI is that an AI salesman will visit the CEO of Kaiser and make this pitch: "Look, you fire 9/10s of your radiologists, saving $20m/year, you give us $10m/year, and you net $10m/year, and the remaining radiologists' job will be to oversee the diagnoses the AI makes at superhuman speed, and somehow remain vigilant as they do so, despite the fact that the AI is usually right, except when it's catastrophically wrong.
"And if the AI misses a tumor, this will be the human radiologist's fault, because they are the 'human in the loop.' It's their signature on the diagnosis."
This is a reverse centaur, and it's a specific kind of reverse-centaur: it's what Dan Davies calls an "accountability sink." The radiologist's job isn't really to oversee the AI's work, it's to take the blame for the AI's mistakes.
This is another key to understanding – and thus deflating – the AI bubble. The AI can't do your job, but an AI salesman can convince your boss to fire you and replace you with an AI that can't do your job. This is key because it helps us build the kinds of coalitions that will be successful in the fight against the AI bubble."
- Cory Doctorow, The Reverse Centaur’s Guide to Criticizing AI
[ID: a yellow- and orange-toned graphic titled “it’s ok to…: holiday edition.”
It lists six items, each with a small graphic: “remind people of your boundaries,” “advocate for event precautions,” “mask at the holiday party,” “start your own traditions,” “experience grief and sadness,” and “turn down invitations.
The graphics are a card that says healthy boundaries, a megaphone, a masked person winking, a family with a heart, a person sitting and looking down with their hands on their head, and a speech bubble that says, “Thanks for the invite, I won’t be able to make it.” End ID.]
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summary: the topic of past relationships comes up on your first date with dex.
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 5.5k
a/n: i'm not gonna tell y'all what to do (I am) but this is another lengthy one (y'all know what else is lengthy) so I recommend getting comfortable and maybe grabbing a snack (or a toy, going acoustic works fine too) and settling in for a good time (one might call it mindblowing) 😛 as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
Dex nearly choked on his wine at your question. There was a playful undertone to it, but still enough suspicion laced within the inquisition that he quickly began to panic internally. After how disastrously last night had gone, he’d made an oath to himself to be more cautious. No more slip ups. No wrong moves. Dex had shown up prepared tonight, having rehearsed the answers to the questions he’d anticipated you’d ask about his upbringing and his career, as well as his personal life. You’d told him last night that you’d enjoyed his company, even though he’d failed to be the careful charming chameleon he normally was. It had made him decide to infuse more truth into his practiced lines. If you liked his company when he wasn’t pretending to be someone else, then maybe he didn’t have to be. To an extent.
The abrupt query had his brain examining everything he’d said and done tonight, relentlessly trying to identify the source of your skepticism. He let out a nervous laugh, forcing his body language to remain casual as he calmly set down his wine glass and gave you a confused look.
“What do you mean?”
“You showed up right at seven-thirty.”
Now Dex didn’t have to pretend to be confused, he genuinely was, and the creases in his forehead deepened.
“I told you that’s when I’d pick you up.”
“And you did. At seven-thirty. Not seven-thirty one, not seven-thirty five, seven-thirty on the dot. And not only were you punctual, you showed up with flowers that just happened to be my favorite."
That decision had been a risk, but he figured it was a common enough flower he could play it off, like he fully intended to do. With a faint shrug, he flashed you a charming grin.
“I can’t take credit for the flowers. I asked the nice lady at the store which ones I should get, and she said tulips were more sincere than roses and lasted longer.”
“Did she tell you to get purple ones?”
“No, I chose purple.”
“Why?”
“Because your nails are purple, and so were your earrings last night. Seemed like a safe bet that purple was your favorite color.”
Dex wanted you to know that he was paying attention to you, he just didn’t want you to know how closely he was paying attention. He wanted you to feel desired, but not scared. Your doubt seemed to soften at his logic, and at the knowledge that even after just a few hours together last night, he’d already noticed little things like that. Seeing that you’d been caught off guard, he seized the opportunity to regain control of the conversation. Tilting his head to the side, he pretended to look at you in lighthearted puzzlement and spoke in a teasing tone.
“Just so we’re clear, you’re distrustful of me because I…picked you up on time and brought you flowers? Is that right?”
“I didn’t say I was distrustful of you.”
“You did ask me what was wrong with me though. I feel like I’m being penalized for good behavior here.”
Tapping your finger against your wine glass, your gaze dropped down to it before falling further to your lap.
“I guess in my experience, if something seems like it’s too good to be true, it’s because it is.”
Dex’s demeanor quickly shifted from playful to concerned like a switch had been flipped, sitting up straighter when he noticed how your posture deflated just slightly. His hand extended across the table almost of its own accord, but he caught himself halfway and placed his palm down against the white cloth. His fingers were itching to reach out the rest of the way to take your hand that was still loosely grasping your wine glass, but he didn’t know if that was too strong of a reaction to a vague statement like that. The playful lilt had disappeared from your voice though, and the teasing tone was also absent. Instead it had taken on a subdued and almost reflective intonation. Dex wanted to fire off a million questions, to get answers that he couldn’t find in a file or from watching you, but he didn’t want to push too hard too fast.
He had to be careful and patient. Dex knew how to manipulate answers out of people. He’d been doing it long before he’d been trained on interrogation tactics at Quantico. Lowering his voice to match your volume, he spoke gently with just the right cadence of hesitation that implied he was curious but trying not to pry, even though that’s exactly what he was doing.
“Are you…speaking from general experience? Or…did someone make you feel that way?”
He watched you take a subtle deep breath through your nose, straightening your posture like you were physically recomposing yourself. When you looked at him again, you had a tiny melancholic smile on your lips.
“A bit of both.”
Dex gave you a faint nod, glancing down at his own wine glass. He reached out to grasp it, wrapping his fingers around it while shifting his expression into something pensive, intentionally avoiding eye contact like he was pretending to think about a question he wasn’t sure he should ask, or didn’t know how to phrase. But Dex knew exactly what he wanted to ask, and he was going to. He was just waiting.
There was a sweet spot of how many seconds normal people let pass before asking questions in delicate conversations. Two to three seconds was too fast, too eager, and could come off as impulsive, potentially insensitive. Anything over nine seconds was too long and could leave the other person feeling uncomfortable or anxious, ruining their willingness to keep talking. Five to six seconds was the sweet spot, a perfectly timed reluctance to perform respectful curiosity.
“I take it there’s a bad ex in there somewhere?”
Dex spoke cautiously, waiting two seconds to look at you again to try and gauge your reaction. The sad smile slowly faded, but you didn’t look upset by the question. More…resigned. He watched you glance down at your wine again before bringing it to your lips, letting out a humorless laugh with a nod.
“A terrible one.”
He knew you were talking about Chris. There was a restless energy that filled him suddenly at the prospect of finally learning the truth, but he had to restrain himself.
Slow. Patient.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Isn’t it bad luck to talk about an ex on a first date?”
Dex lifted one of his brows in question, giving you a rueful smile before mirroring your previous action to lift his glass of wine to his own lips.
“Not that I’m aware of. I mean, I’ve been out of the dating game awhile, but I thought it was normal to talk about past relationships. Besides, I’m not superstitious.”
Leaning forward, you placed your elbow on the table and rested your chin in your hand, looking at him in genuine intrigue.
“How long is a while?”
Dex glanced down at his glass, mostly pretending to take a pause, but he was surprised that he felt an actual flicker of hesitance.
“A couple years.”
“Oh…wow.”
He heard the surprise in your voice even before he looked up and saw it on your face. He watched your mouth open to ask a follow up question before you faltered, uncertainty evident in your eyes. Dex had planned for this. He knew the topic would come up eventually, and he hoped the story he had prepared would encourage you to be forthcoming about what happened with Chris.
“My ex-girlfriend, she uh…she died.”
He caught your sharp intake of breath, and then you were reaching over to take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and he had to fight not to let his delight show on his face at that.
“Oh my God, Ben…I…I’m so sorry.”
Dex nodded, brushing his thumb over your skin, committing the sight of you holding his hand to memory.
“It was a long time ago. Almost feels like another lifetime now.”
“I can’t…even begin to imagine what that must have been like.”
It took him a few seconds to realize your empathetic sentiment was more of a prompt. You were expecting him to say more, to talk about what he’d gone through. He had to play along if he wanted the reward of your own verity. Dex cleared his throat before speaking in a practiced somber tone.
“It was…hard. It was really hard.”
He almost felt bad seeing the sincere sympathetic look on your face, but it wasn’t the worst lie he was telling you, and there was a sliver of truth to it. Julie had died, and she had been important to him. The details regarding the true nature of their relationship were irrelevant now, and Dex could just pretend to be too grief stricken to talk about it. The way you gave his hand a comforting squeeze solidified his theory that you wouldn’t probe any further.
“I can see why you haven’t dated in awhile then. I’m sure it’s difficult to even think about getting close to someone again, after losing someone you loved.”
Dex didn’t even have to use his meticulously prepared lies. You were feeding him the perfect answers. He let out a deep breath and nodded, giving you a small wistful smile.
“It is, yeah. I guess I just kinda threw myself into my job after that, you know. Ended up isolating myself in the process.”
When he felt your thumb brushing across his knuckles in a soothing gesture, his act was interrupted and his attention was quickly captivated. His eyes fell to your joined hands resting on the table. Your skin was so soft and warm, and you touched him so gently. Dex couldn’t remember anyone ever touching him like that before. He certainly hadn’t felt anyone’s touch in a long time. It suddenly struck him then like a bolt of lightning that the last date he’d been on had actually been with Julie, and it had ended with her walking out on him because he’d been reckless. He’d scared her. He didn’t want that to happen with you.
Instinctively, he tightened his hold on your hand, trying to anchor you there in the moment with him so you’d stay.
“I haven’t really had any interest in getting involved with someone in a long time. Until you.”
He hadn’t meant for that to slip out. When he looked at you again, he saw the almost bashful smile that tugged at the edges of your lips, and how you tried to suppress it from turning into a grin. Dex pulled a face at his own words when he realized how they sounded out loud. He shook his head and let out a dry chuckle as he rubbed his hand down his face.
“God, that sounds like a shitty line, doesn’t it?”
You tried so hard not to laugh, but you couldn’t help feeling amused by how embarrassed he looked. Seeing the tips of his ears reddening, you squeezed his hand as you grinned at him.
“Normally, it would have, yes. But coming from you, it sounds sweet. I know you mean it.”
Dex really loved being on the receiving end of that bright smile. He never wanted you to stop smiling at him like that. Squeezing your hand back, he looked right into your eyes as he spoke.
“I do.”
A moment of silence passed between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Dex let the weight of his words settle before he let out an overly exaggerated sigh.
“Alright, your turn. What’s the story with your ex? Far less depressing, I hope.”
He felt you stiffen a little as you took a deep breath, forcing out a hollow laugh.
“It’s…depressing in its own way. I mean, I didn’t lose him tragically or anything, but it did end badly.”
Dex fought to keep his casual composure, even though that frenetic energy had returned full force and surged through his veins ardently.
Slow. Patient.
“What happened?”
He could practically see the oscillation happening behind your eyes, the indecisiveness on how honest you wanted to be. He was curious as to whether the delay in your answer was to protect his comfort or your own.
“He…wasn’t who I thought he was.”
The reluctance in your quiet response made Dex feel a flicker of worry that you wouldn’t want to divulge any further than that. He knew he couldn’t rush this, but he was also hyper aware of the fact that it had been over a week since Chris hired him, and while Dex had managed to get him off his ass with a threat, that boundary wouldn’t hold long. Chris was not a patient man, and Dex wouldn’t put it past him to get fed up with waiting and hire someone else instead.
Dex quickly ran through different options of how to gently nudge you down the path of vulnerability that would get him what he wanted. Humor was almost always effective. If you could get someone to laugh, it loosened the tension and made them lower their defenses.
“Was it a rose colored glasses situation, or a full blown ‘The Talented Mr. Ripley’?”
The question tore a surprised laugh from you, and Dex felt a rush of victory seeing amusement back on your lips.
“Um…definitely rose colored glasses…maybe a sprinkle of Mr. Ripley, just without the murder and the crime and the Italian coast.”
“What a let down.”
Dex flashed you a playful smirk, still keeping your hand grasped in his on the table. His thumb delicately traced back and forth over your skin, and the soothing gesture seemed to have its intended effect.
“I mean, I can do without the murder and crime, but the Italian coast would’ve been nice.”
“Would you have been able to put those rose colored glasses back on though?”
A soft sigh escaped as you gave him a gentle shake of your head, followed by a tiny glum smile.
“No. No, once they were off…they were off.”
Dex let out a quiet hum of acknowledgement, nodding as he pretended to think over your statement.
“I assume Mr. Ripley was…charming at first, said and did all the right things, presented himself as the person he knew you wanted him to be, and had such a talent for lying, you never realized you were being manipulated. But then something happened to set him off, made him lose his temper, and showed you the real man behind the con.”
He watched your brows lift in astonishment before they knit together in puzzlement.
“Did we date the same person?”
That drew a genuine laugh from Dex, and he shook his head while giving your hand a faint squeeze.
“Dealing with sociopathic assholes was part of my job at the Bureau.”
“At least you got paid for it.”
“Not nearly enough. And I did have the murder and crime, but no Italian coast for me either.”
A grin stretched across your mouth as you slowly shook your head, leaning in a little closer like the two of you were sharing an intimate secret.
“What do we have to do to get some Italian coast around here?"
Dex’s eyes dropped to your lips for a moment before he met your gaze again, mirroring your grin as he leaned in himself.
“Book a flight.”
“I don’t know how much you think elementary school teachers make, but I admire your enthusiasm.”
Dex was about to blurt out that he’d take you, that he’d use all the money that’s just been sitting there in his account and he’d pay for everything and you could stay as long as you wanted, but he forced himself to bite his tongue. That wasn’t something a sane person would say on a first date. Before he had a chance to respond with something clever or flirty, he heard you let out a quiet exhale and noticed you were looking down at your hand in his.
“He was just so…different, at first. I mean, I didn’t think he was perfect or anything, but I thought…I thought he was a good guy, you know. He could be a bit much sometimes, and there were moments where I felt…I don’t know, uncertain about him I guess. But I never imagined he would end up being…dangerous.”
Something ignited within him immediately, and it took an extreme amount of effort to retain his calm composure. He had to swallow down the venom to keep it out of his tone, and it was an immense struggle for Dex to speak in a gentle voice.
“Dangerous?”
He could see the apprehension in your eyes when you looked at him, and he hoped you couldn’t see the rage burning in his.
“Like I said, it ended badly.”
There was a polite finality in the way you said it that told him it wasn’t a topic you wanted to discuss any further. As badly as he wanted to demand you tell him everything, he knew being too aggressive would ruin the progress he was making. Dex coerced himself to relax his jaw and let out a deep exhale through his nose, but in his effort to stay calm, he must have lost control of his expression, because you began to shrink away with nerves.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“No.”
Dex instantly tightened his grip on your hand when he felt you pulling away, and he redirected all his focus to looking at you in tender concern.
“Please don’t apologize. I asked. And I’m…I’m glad you feel…comfortable enough to be honest with me.”
Your anxiety seemed to dissipate at his reassurance, but he could still see it lingering on your face and in your body language.
“I just…I like you, Ben. And I don’t wanna run you off.”
He struggled not to laugh at the absurdity of your trepidation. Looking at you with a wicked glint in his eyes, Dex brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to one of your knuckles, offering you a sacred vow.
“Sweetheart, I promise that’s never gonna happen.”
𖣠
One of the main things Dex had noticed after spending the past week watching you was how quiet your neighborhood was at night compared to his own, but strolling down the sidewalk with your hand intertwined in his, and your body leaning slightly into his shoulder, it felt even more serene. All the noise and chaos that plagued the streets of Hell’s Kitchen seemed to be restricted by the boundary of the East River, unable to infect the calm tranquility of Astoria. Being with you tonight, it was the closest thing he’d ever felt to peace, something he’d never experienced and was desperate to keep.
That inexplicable curiosity that had drawn him towards you initially had blossomed into an obsession, and twisted roots of it were now embedded right into the marrow of his bones. He’d made up his mind last night that he wasn’t taking the job, but after tonight, he wasn’t going to leave an opportunity for Chris to offer it to anyone else either. That was a problem for later though. Right now, he just wanted to prolong every second with you.
The moment you slowed to a stop outside the front steps of your apartment building, Dex was already turning to face you.
“Can I see you again?”
The amber glow from the streetlights caught the delight that gleamed in your irises, and his heart raced impatiently, longing for any kind of decipherable clue that tonight had meant something special to you too. He wanted to hear you say you enjoyed his company again. He wanted you to want more of his company, to be just as disappointed with the idea of losing it, even if it was just to an obstacle as simple as sleep.
“Yeah.”
Dex stepped closer, his lips spreading into a wide grin at the sight of the coy smile you flashed him.
“Yeah? How soon?”
Glancing down, you took a step closer to bridge the small gap between you, letting your eyes wander up his figure slowly until you met his gaze again, this time with an inviting smirk curling at the edges of your mouth.
“How soon is…now?”
“Now?”
The close proximity and the look in your eyes kindled a cold ember that had long been forgotten and neglected until you struck that spark of desire.
“The night doesn’t have to be over, Ben.”
“That doesn’t sound like pure intentions, sweetheart.”
“Completely impure, I promise.”
Dex held your face firmly in his hands as you stumbled together through the darkness of your apartment, kissing each other with fervent hunger. He didn’t protest when you broke the kiss to push at his chest, the back of his knees hitting the cushions of your couch before he fell backwards onto it. He was lightly panting as he stared up at you with lust blown pupils, watching how you tugged your dress up your thighs before stepping between his spread legs, reaching out to grab onto his broad shoulders as you lowered yourself down to straddle him.
His hands immediately flew out towards you, one hand gripping your waist while the other threaded his fingers through your hair to grab the back of your neck, pulling you in to kiss you deeply again. As you frantically began to unbutton his shirt, Dex felt your nails scrape against the bare skin of his chest and let out a grunt, the faint sting amplifying the pleasure already thrumming through him. He only relinquished his grip on you when you shoved the shirt off his shoulders, helping to tug it off the rest of the way himself to toss it aside carelessly.
Dex reveled in the way you shuddered against his lips when his hands caressed your bare thighs, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your dress, eager to push it further upwards but anxious to be presumptuous or make the wrong move.
“Can I take this off?”
The breathy laugh you let out made him still instantly, and he leaned back to look at you, his eyes searching your face for any indication of what he might have said or done wrong.
“What?”
Shaking your head, you grinned as you took his face in your hands and leaned in, brushing your lips against his.
“Nothing, nothing. I just think it’s sweet you asked.”
Capturing his lips in another kiss, you let your hands slip from his face to reach down and grasp onto his wrists, guiding his hands to push your dress up your thighs to your hips. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you brushed your nose against his and whispered.
“Take it off, Ben.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Dex was torn between wanting to rip it off and wanting to take his time. His eyes wandered over every new inch of your skin that was revealed in complete reverence as if you were some holy relic, the heat of the moment burning every detail into his brain. When you lifted your arms so he could slip the dress over your head, Dex leaned in to press greedy kisses along your neck, and the way you tilted your head to grant him more of yourself drove him wild. You wanted this. You wanted him. That knowledge alone had him aching.
The only desire you didn’t seem to share was to draw out the moment. Your fingers were impatiently threading in his hair to tug him closer, your hips already shifting against his lap, making him groan low in his throat as his hands fell to your waist, squeezing gently but firmly to get your attention.
“Sweetheart, we don’t have to rush-”
“I want you, Ben. Touch me…please.”
You were already guiding his hand between your spread thighs, and there was no way in hell he was going to deny you, especially when you begged him like that. Dex would give you anything you wanted from him. The profound avidity you had for him set his blood on fire. He could hear how much you needed him, felt it in your frenzied touch and tasted it on your lips. It was intoxicating. He wanted you to crave him like this always, to perpetually need him, to have no capacity to ever want anyone else.
Obediently he hooked his fingers into your panties and tugged them to the side, immediately gifted with the evidence of your arousal slicking his fingers. He groaned against your throat, not wasting a second to spread you open with his index and fourth finger while his middle finger sought out your clit with perfect precision. Arching into his touch, you grabbed onto the back of his neck and pressed your chest against Dex’s, his expert touch eliciting a gratified moan from you.
“Ben.”
His name dripping from your parted lips like honey had his cock straining uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans. It was the sweetest fucking sound he’d ever heard. He didn’t waste time with teasing. You’d made it clear what you wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige. Dex began to trace quick circles over your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you whimper, and his other hand gripped your waist as you started to rock your hips against his hand. Dex trailed wet open mouthed kisses up your neck, dragging his tongue along the underside of your jaw, panting in your ear as he spoke in a husky whisper.
“Is this what you wanted, baby?”
“Yes…yes…”
“Does it feel good?”
“It feels so fucking good.”
Dex tightened his grip on your waist at that breathy confirmation, a rough groan rumbling in his chest as he nuzzled his nose against your throat.
“Yeah? You want more? Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything.”
“More…God, more…please.”
You were so wet you were dripping down his fingers, making it effortless for you to grind against his hand and for his fingers to glide rapidly over your clit. He had already shifted the position of his hand to slip two of his fingers inside you, but your hands were suddenly fumbling with his belt, and he didn’t hesitate to follow your lead. He let you unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans and tug down the zipper, and he assisted with lifting his hips so he could shove his jeans and briefs down his thighs.
The relief Dex felt when he was finally freed from the confines of his jeans was immense, and he let out a ragged breath as his hard cock bobbed against his stomach, leaving a bead of own needy arousal on his heated skin. You were already shifting up on your knees to shove your panties down, kicking them off before reaching down to wrap your hand around him. The sensation of your touch on his sensitive flesh was electric, and he nearly lost it right then. A ruined moan was torn from his chest, and he gripped your hips tightly, digging his blunt nails into your skin.
“Fuck-”
Your grasp loosened as you looked at him in concern, noticing how tense he’d suddenly become.
“Do you want me to stop-”
“No no no, God no. Sorry…I’m sorry, it’s just…been awhile.”
Leaning in to press your forehead against his, you gave his cock a slow, gentle stroke. He let out a heavy ragged breath, a needy noise coming from his throat.
“I’m sorry, I forgot. We can slow down if you want.”
Dex lifted one of his hands to cradle the back of your head, his labored breath warm against your lips.
“I just want you.”
Shifting forward a little on your knees, you positioned yourself above his cock.
“I want you too.”
Dex’s eyes nearly rolled when you slowly sank down onto him, and his head fell back against the couch while a wrecked moan left his parted lips. You’d been so drenched in arousal that he’d glided in with ease despite his size, and the snug warmth that enveloped him conjured a phantom tingle at the base of his artificial spine.
“Oh fuck…”
You let out a breathy whimper once he was fully nestled deep inside you, your own head dipping back as your eyes fluttered in pleasure.
“God, Ben.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you began to roll your hips in a sensual rhythm, riding him slowly. Dex buried his face in your neck, groaning as one of his hands gripped your ass while the other slowly slid up your back to tangle in your hair. He flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm, and the living room was filled with the shared symphony of heavy panting and desperate need.
Dex had slept with his fair share of women, but this felt different. It felt better. It wasn’t just about getting off, and he wasn’t hyper fixated on making sure you were pleased with him. Normally he was in his head, vigilantly analyzing facial expressions and sounds, trying to identify anything counterfeit, but right now he couldn’t think straight at all. All he could do was feel.
The sound of skin gliding against slick skin shifted into your thighs smacking against his when you started to move faster. His hands fell to your waist, gripping tightly as he tried to complement your rhythm, thrusting upwards into you at the same pace. He moaned into your mouth, caught in a messy kiss that was all teeth and tongues. When your fingers slipped into his hair to tug his head back, a needy noise caught in his throat, and a string of saliva stretched between your mouths when the kiss was broken.
“God, you feel so good baby…”
He sounded as wrecked as he felt staring at you with heavily hooded eyes in complete awe. With your chest pressed against his, he could feel that your heart was pounding just as hard as his was, further evidence that you were bewitched by your own spell. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and he let out a sharp hiss at the delectable sting. Your breaths had gotten heavier and more ragged, and your face was scrunched up in pleasure.
“Ben.”
He could hear the urgency in your shaky voice, and it instantly had him tearing through the opaque veil of his own hedonism, his eyes sharpening back into focus.
“Yeah? What do you need, sweetheart?”
It was like you were trying to hold your breath, but shuddering broken gasps kept slipping, and your nails embedded further in his skin.
“I…fuck…fuck I’m so close…”
Dex quickly understood, and he banded his arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer on his lap as he began to snap his hips upwards.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?”
“Oh God…oh God right there-”
His other hand slipped between your bodies and his thumb went straight to your clit, rubbing back and forth with firm pressure.
“Yeah? That feel good?”
“Oh my God Ben-”
He could feel your thighs start to tremble, how your hips lost their rhythm as you began to ride him with reckless abandon, your voice becoming breathier and higher in pitch the more tense your body became.
“I got you, baby. I got you.”
Seeing your eyes roll back into your head was the prettiest goddamn thing he’d ever seen, and the second he felt your cunt clench around his cock, he unraveled instantly with a guttural moan. Dex held you tight against his chest, his arm still wrapped tightly around your body with his other hand in your hair, both of you writhing against each other as pleasure crashed over your tangled bodies in relentless waves.
Dex felt almost lightheaded from the intensity of it all. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his breathing still heavy and his pulse erratic.
“Goddamn.”
The laughter that had your shoulders shaking made Dex pull back to look at you, his brows furrowed in a faux display of annoyance.
“You think that’s funny? Ruining a man like that? You know, that’s the second time you’ve laughed at me in the past thirty minutes.”
You looked at him with a blissed out grin, letting your palms glide up his sweaty arms and shoulders before you captured his face in your hands.
“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because you make me laugh.”
“Well that’s not exactly the most reassuring thing to hear after sex.”
“After incredible sex.”
Dex arched one of his brows, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.
“Incredible, huh?”
Leaning in, you captured his lips in another deep kiss. When you pulled back a fraction to look at him again, Dex took note of how thoroughly sated you appeared, the almost hazy look in your eyes, and it had him stirring inside you again. That euphoric grin spread wide across your lips once more as you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded.
Ask game. List 5 things that make you happy. then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. Pass it on! 😊
OHEMGEEEEEE NUALAAAAAA 😭🥹
🥹🫂i literally just had therapy and was feeling all a jumble 🫶🏻
i've started running again, and im feeling more energy, and i like that
i baked sweet potato brownies and holy cabooses theyre yum
i rediscovered a childhood book series, the edge chronicles!
steamed. taro. buns. im eating them rn :)
im practicing showing up for myself- whether its a physical activity everyday (dance time!), or breaking out my watercolors again, or making sure i eat.
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