☥Ruler of Neptoon☥

With fbi!dex...

The first time he tried prone his form was so ass. Sloppy. Frantic. Which is fine because your instructions were clear and he was so determined that whenever you weren't around, he would practice on his pillow. I can fully see this happening

It's almost terrifying how quickly he became good at it (he wouldn't allow sexy time to end without prone just to show you how much he's improved. Tell him ur proud NOW)

Your responses are everything to him. He's documenting all this while reminding himself how to be in the moment because you can sometimes tell when he gets in his own head. When he's enjoying himself? Oh my lord, you're in trouble

He's gotten the pacing down, how much weight to hold up versus crush you with. Knowing when to indulge and knowing when to focus more on you

Let's not forget he has a big dick! Something you don't let him forget even though he damn sure wouldn't know statistical averages, he just knows he's "perfect" in your eyes

That was another thing he had to work on at the starts. He's so big and thick that he was doing way too much and that shit was unpleasant as hell, but trust once you both reached flow state and matched rhythm... he knew the exact angle at which the g spot was and WHEN to hit it repeatedly just to listen to those pretty moans muffled by your pillow

Also cue him whining like a hurt dog when you tell him not to creampie

With ddba!dex...

He's a little slower, but that doesn't take away anything. Like at all. It almost makes sex better. Because he's not balancing the ratio between his and your pleasure anymore, he's mostly dead set on you absolutely being the center of attention. This isn't to say fbi Dex was a selfish lover by any means cause he usually insisted you be first, but ddba!dex didn't have to say it aloud

He's gained much more muscle. Meaning he's heavier. He can easily hold himself up as you've seen him do pushups every single morning but he's more inclined to press nearly his entire weight on you and sit there while he hardens (I'm getting dizzy)

And once he hardens he's stroking all slow and attentive-like. Calloused hands exploring your body and leaving kisses on your back so you'll relax cause he's still BIG

FBI!dex was whimper CITY™. Ddba!dex is still whimper city™ but there's much more grunts and groans that show his age. He may be an agile and deadly killer but the man is still very much in his 40s

Which means that you've gotten a little slower too, with age. You get to share more soft and memorable moments while he's fully bottomed out on top of you like a weighted blanket

Remember how I said he's slower intentionally? Yeah. If you ask him, tease him, dare him, or if he just had a mission go in a way he didn't particularly like, expect to be clawing at your pillow and sheets while he holds all his weight just to deep stroke to his hearts content

No whimpers, all deep moans and grunts. Sweat dripping from his hairline to your back. Your toes are curled and you could cry. You probably are crying. He hasn't said it out loud yet but he likes it.

He might even get a little saucy and hold down your hips somehow so you can't fuck back. It's ridiculous. How the fuck is he doing that.!!

Alternatively he could also stop at a certain angle to where you have no choice but to fuck back

On another note of him doing extra just cause he's feeling like hot shit, he the type to slide it back and forth between the cheeks for sensation purposes. And to hear you whine/plea to hurry up.

If he cums inside you it's completely unintentional and he might apologize but truly. TRULY, you probs don't give a fuckkkk. Cause the way he physically couldn't convince himself to pull out in time, hips stuttering and pressing against your ass as he unloads his seed. Like, all of it. Muscular arms trembling before he fully pulls out and catches it leaking then collapses next to you. Tired as shit. His old ass WILL be feeling this in the morning but hey, so will you

Not to mention the lack of concern due to you coating his thighs and abdomen with slick

Also, bonus: don't let it be post prison dex cause there's not going to be a single gentle bone in his body for at least two weeks after he escaped. Not with the eyes you were giving him during your visits.

It's safe to say you've gotten him addicted to this position.

And now it's become a thing. A back and forth of cat and mouse except you both play both roles. The more you fight, the more you became adapted to each other's fighting styles. You got better at dodging objects, huge to tiny, and he got better at predicting when you'd strike him. Not quite where yet cause he had to give that to you. You were just as creative as him when it came to where you were aiming your attacks.

This time around, you had a target that was really important to take out by tomorrow. Head already on a swivel even though it's been almost two months since Bullseye attacked. It seems that the longer this goes on, it's less about killing each other and more like some kind of silently agreed to sparring that involved the possibility of dying. And while you did fight your heart out, you both have gotten a little...frisky as of late.

You were in the makeshift kitchen of your assigned safe house--in the dark--sharpening and packing up your favorite blades. It's been quiet for the past few days. A little too quiet. You were about to clean off the gun that was waiting in the drawer in front of you when there was just the faintest creak in the wooden floors. Your head tilts slightly and the corner of your lips lifts and falls as quickly as it came.

There was no time for witty banter. You made a sharp turn and tossed whatever blade in that general direction. Bullseye dodged it but it almost clipped him. You were getting better. He liked that.

He didn't even throw anything back. Just took a few steps forward, not bothering to take his mask off since it didn't matter. That and he won't ever say it out loud but he's taken a liking to whenever you ripped his mask off.

"No weapons," he said simply. "Yet," he added. "You've gotten better. Show me."

You gave him a skeptical look before dropping your other knife and raising your hands to show there wasn't anything to throw. Pushing yourself off the counter and rounding the island to start circling him.

"No weapons," you confirmed, flexing and cracking your knuckles. His grin widened under the mask you were destined to pull off later. Mirroring your movements until you were four inches apart.

There was an unspoken rule that developed over time. When you pulled up on him, he struck first. When he pulls up on you, you strike first. And that's exactly what you did.

The second you closed the distance, he just barely dodged. But you predicted that.

An elbow came flying towards his face in a flash, hitting his nose then kicking him in the chest while he was still caught off guard. He staggered back and hit the wall harshly with an amused grunt.

You didn't let up. The back and forth thing was tiring when it was you letting him get back up. If you wanted a good fight with Bullseye, you had to keep striking.

You lunged at him with a knee to his stomach but he deflected it and grabbed your arm to twist it behind you and swing you into the wall this time face first. You groaned loudly in pain but there was a big smile on your face.

"Built more muscle just for me, huh?"

"Maybe."

A strong push off the wall with your foot sent you both to the ground. Luckily his grip loosened in time or else your rotary blade would've definitely shattered. You rolled off just to jump back on top of him and punch him in the face. Only like three of them landed before he grabbed your fist and pushed you off him, sending you rolling.

You both jumped back up to catch your breath for a few seconds. You could still see his stupid smile under his mask.

"Make a move, vigilante," you said with your arms out. "I can't keep bullying you like this."

He chuckled. Then he moved.

Fast.

He nearly threw himself into you with all his weight, pinning you against the refrigerator and aiming for body blows. You blocked most of them then one solid punch got you square in the jaw. You swing back and it connected, but when you got for the second one he ducks and half a second later you feel a sharp metal object sinking right into your lower abdomen.

You gasp, wide eyed as one of your hands grips his gloved wrist.

"You...fuckin' piece of shit," you whispered. So much for no weapons, right? He looked so pleased with himself.

He was about to make a snark remark when a sharp pain interrupted his words. His groan turning into an impressed laugh.

"Thought I wasn't prepared for you to play dirty?"

You use the hand that was holding his wrist to rip his mask off. Much to your dismay because it only made the blade go deeper, but you couldn't give him the satisfaction. Not yet.

His bloodied and bruised face was only inches from yours.

"There he is," you strained. He spat blood on the ground and grinned, stabbing you again in a higher spot. Wasn't near anything fatal, it was intentional but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch.

A deep moan left your lips before you could stop it.

"Fuck-!"

You shuddered, tough exterior beginning to slip. You returned the favor and stabbed a spot higher. He also moaned, hot breath fanning over your lips.

Your foreheads rested on each other's. You had to suspect he was aware yours hurt more because you weren't wearing anything other than a shirt while he at least had on that padded compression shirt.

You closed your eyes for a split second then twisted the blade, causing him to exclaim but you took that opportunity to kiss him. Bloody teeth, cut up lips and all.

Both of you were out of breath at this point. This vigilante shit was nothing like how you were moving ten years ago but that was the last thing that mattered.

He moaned again into your mouth when he let go to hold your face. His stab wound screaming at him for pressing up against you. You let go too; shaky hands gripping his biceps.

You bit his bottom lip hard and pulled back before he could retaliate. Though instead of anger or irritation flashing across his face, he slowly licked the blood up and looked you dead in the eyes with his half-lidded ones.

"That all you got?"

You slipped your fingers into his hair and yanked to hear him hiss, kissing him again. Harder. Sloppier.

He slipped his knee between your legs and copied your move from a minute ago and twisted the blade in your wound. You didn't back up as he swallowed your pained moan.

But then you pulled him back by his hair and tugged him down to the ground. Climbing on top of him as you settled in his lap and right on top of the erection that was there earlier the first time you were on him. You peeled off your shirt--now just in a sports bra and cargo pants--and placed your hands on his chest. Leaving the blade in your side and starting to grind on him.

The friction made his back arch a little off the ground. A choked, guttural sound escaped his throat, somewhere between a growl and a sob. As you ground against him, the sensation of the blade in your abdomen pulsed in rhythm with your hips. A sharp, stinging reminder of the violence that brought you to this moment in the first place.

There was agony, yet pleasure in your eyes. You took shallow breaths and moaned softly as you did your own thing.

"Don't stop," he whispered between his teeth. Hands twitching at his sides because he didn't know what else to do with them. You felt his heartbeat beneath your palms. Anyone would think he's been running for the past 30 minutes.

"Shut up," you stifled. This fucking prick. Thinking he can give orders after stabbing you twice. His hips bucked when you landed hard to hurt him, but it only made him want to keep going.

"Or what?" He poked. "You'll stop and fight me again? In this state?"

You huffed and stopped, watching his smile grow as you sat up straight and braced yourself with a quick, sharp breath. Your face twisted as you pulled the little knife from your side carefully. Once it was out it felt like you could collapse right there.

No, not yet.

You leaned forward with a wince and held it up to his throat. Metal to skin. No other words and his grin didn't waver. You started grinding again, now on a mission to get him to break first.

"I've always been better than you at close combat," you said. "Say it."

"I'd rather fuckin' die."

You nodded once. Slowly. Then you swiped the side of his neck quickly to make a cut. He didn't verbally react but it was all over his face. Damn, didn't think you'd actually cut so close to a vital artery to make a point.

But then again, this is you we're talking about.

You ground harder and faster, thighs squeezing his hips as you leaned down to lick the cut and suck some of the blood that leaked from it.

His hips bucked again and his hands found your waist. Exposing more of his neck so you'll have more room. This is fucking crazy. So fucking sexy.

The copper taste barely phased you. You've had a bloody mouth a million times and while licking someone's wound you created was completely new, that's what made it better.

"Close yet?"

He wanted to ignore your taunt so bad but you were right on point. Feeling his dick jump under his pants like it was fighting to get free.

You leaned back up with some blood on the corner of your mouth. Some that you missed when you licked your lips but he liked it that way. You looked insane. And if you looked insane he could only imagine how the fuck He looked with messy hair, sweat slicked skin, and half his face covered in blood.

"You can tell me, Bullseye," you murmured against his lips. "It's just us."

"Fuck you."

You scoffed--which hurt really bad. "You wish."

"I'm gonna...fuck, fuck- shit, oh, shit."

His head fell back on the floor as he trembled, legs lifting then falling back down as he came in his pants. A short string of quiet, deep whines filled your ears. You planted both hands on the sides of his head to look intimidating when really it was getting difficult to hold your own weight up.

You tongue kissed him. Slower this time. Grinding slowing up to match your lips. He kissed back with an even quieter moan. Hands sliding up your back before his left hand grazed your wound and squeezed it. You pulled away and cursed aloud at him. A loud slap connecting to his cheek in a fit of anger.

He grunted and smiled lazily and let his eyes shut from exhaustion taking hold of him. "Oops."

Your burner phone started ringing on the dining table just a few feet away. You looked over with blurry vision, dizzy from reacting too fast.

Get up. Answer the phone. It's your handler. The only person who calls your phone and the only one who'd call at this hour. Get up. Get up!

You stared and blinked slowly. Your handler is going to have a fit if you miss her call. Get up, damn it!

Bullseye's hand came up to grab your shoulder and simply pull you down to lay on his chest. You didn't have anymore fight in you to protest or push him away. Your eyelids only got heavier the second your face made contact with his shoulder. The phone rang again but it just faded away as you couldn't bring yourself to notice you were still bleeding out. It became more and more distorted until it only served as a noise lulling you to sleep.