My Works / Reblogs

it's a sudden, sharp crack that echoes around the room like a gunshot. his head turns to the side and stays there, because you struck him hard enough for dex to freeze like that for a moment before he blinks once in surprise, tongue moving inside his mouth to poke the inside of his cheek.

you can see it in him, the change that happens when dex registers the sting and the heat that starts spreading across the side of his face, the shape of your fingertips painting his skin a crimson red. his mouth curls then, lips tugging into a smile as his eyes flutter closed to savor the impact.

you make a disgusted sound, and because you're still pissed, even more mad now than before you realized you can't even hurt him without his deranged brain turning it into this, you snarl: "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

dex only laughs in response, seemingly pulled out of his trance by the sound of your voice. it's the first time you've spoken to him in hours, and something inside him hums in satisfaction at finally earning back your attention, even if you're still scowling at him with an intensity that would make a lesser man feel the urge to bolt.

to dex, though, the only thing worth registering is that he has your eyes back on him once more, your touch back where it belongs—on his skin, burning across his cheek as physical proof.

he reaches out to grab your hand, fingers enclosing around your wrist and lifting your arm with enough gentleness to make you hesitate upon the thought of pulling it right back, then guides your palm to lay flat against the other side of his face.

You’ve been walking the length of your new room, arms out to the sides trying to get comfortable with the extra weight on your head. Hoping if you keep practicing you’ll look more natural with it on. But as minutes turned into hours you don’t feel any better about it. You feel if anything more unnatural. How are you going to be a princess? Better yet how are you going to be queen one day? You’ve only ever known how to serve others, how are you going to let the people you grew up with serve you now? Everything felt so… different.

You sigh yanking the tiara off your head and look at it. God you feel like a imposter. You feel like you’re playing dress up. You shuffle your bare feet across the room and sit on the edge of the ridiculously cloud like bed. You wish you could see James. Just talk to him. But tradition has it the bride and groom aren’t to see each other before the wedding. You wondered if he was feeling as anxious and stressed as you were. Was he pacing his room? Was he missing you as much as you missed him? Gosh you just wanted to hold him. You just wanted him to tell you he loved you and everything is ok.

But no, the cruel joke of this whole situation is that he’s right across the hall and you’re supposed to stay here. Alone. With your thoughts. You’re supposed to be getting “beauty sleep for your big day tomorrow!” As Becca and Miriam so excitedly put it before leaving you for the night. You sigh heavily flopping down back on your bed.

You lay there staring up at the ceiling, fingers twisting into the night gown you wear. Thinking of everything that’ll happen tomorrow. But most of all, you’re going to marry your best friend. Someone you’ve loved since you could pronounce the word properly, And he loves you and is marrying you. You’re going to be husband and wife.

So screw it. Sitting up with a huff you mutter “screw tradition, he’s going to be my husband anyways” you all but stomp over to your door. Grabbing the handle and taking a deep breath before swinging it open. But to your surprise, said soon to be husband is already there. And looks quite as shocked as you are. “Oh” you gasp out. He’s in nothing but his under shirt and trousers, hair looking slightly tousled. He was mid pace before you had swung open the door, now he stands there with his mouth half open.

“I um.. I couldn’t sleep” he says quietly, straighten his stance. You nod slightly, hand still on the door handle “I couldn’t either” you say softly. He nods and offers a small smile. Silence soon fills the hall as you both stand there unsure of where to go from here. You swallow before stepping aside slightly “w-would you like to come in?” You ask softly. He huffs out a laugh and scratches the back of his neck “I don’t believe that would be the proper thing to do”. You smile at him tilting your head “when has any we’ve ever done been proper?” You ask and he rubs his hands together, his tongue darting out quickly to wet his bottom lip before nodding and stepping towards you “I suppose you are right”.

He steps into your room and you shut the door behind you and turn to watch him as he looks around the space. His eyes fall to the tiara that lays on your bed, he walks over and picks it up “trying it on?” He asks turning it over in his hand before facing you. You give a slight nod taking a few steps towards him “thought I’d uh practice, but it turns out gravity is not on my side with it” you say with a small smile. He chuckles “yes it does take some getting use to” he says softly before placing it back on the edge of the bed.

“Do uh, do you like the room?” He asks shifting on his feet as his hands clasp behind his back. “Oh um yes.. it is rather big though for one person” you admit, he nods and sucks on his teeth glancing around again “I suppose you have a point”. You hum in response and look down at your feet. “I um I did want to give you something. It was left behind in your.. in your old room” he says as he reaches into his pocket pulling out a small chain.

“Miriam brought it to me, though I don’t know why she wouldn’t have just given it to you herself” he holds out the necklace to you and you gently take it from him. “Oh.. thank you I guess with everything I forgot it” you say quietly looking down at the small sapphire. “Was it your mother’s?” He asks, his eyes locked on you as you gaze at it. You nod and look up at him with a sad smile “yes, yes it was”, he nods towards you and points at the necklace “may i?” He asks and you furrow your brows at him before realizing “oh um sure” you say handing him the necklace and turning around.

Gently he unclasps it and brings it around your neck, with delicate hands he puts it around your neck. Once it’s clasped again he gently fixes the chain before his hands rub down your neck and to your shoulders, resting there. You bring a hand to the small stone and look down at it before turning your head to look at him. He’s closer than you’d thought he’d be “thank you” you say, voice coming out as a whisper. He bites his lower lip and nods, his eyes looking over your face. Slowly his face comes closer to yours his breath fanning over your lips.

You close your eyes slightly as his lips softly graze yours. You smile before whispering “I don’t think this is proper before the wedding”. He smirks and brings one of his hands to your face turning you more towards him. “When has anything we’ve ever done been proper?” He whispers back, his lips ghosting yours as he speaks. Your smile grows as you turn more so you are chest to chest with him. Grabbing his other hand that still rests on your shoulder you take it in yours and hold it “I suppose you are right” you whisper back and he sucks in a breath before pressing his lips onto yours.

It’s slow, and filled with want and longing but it quickly turns into something more heated. He lets go of your hand and brings it up to cup the other side of your face, pulling you more flush against him. Your arms move to wrap around his neck, stretching onto your toes to deepen the kiss. Quickly and without breaking the kiss he removes one of his hands from your face and bends hooking it around your waist “hold on” he mutters against your lips as his lifts you. With a gasp you grip him as you are hoisted up, on instinct your legs wrap around his waist. Your night gown bunching up slightly.

He moves to kiss your neck as he turns and backs up until he is sitting on the edge of your bed, you straddling his lap. Your hands move to his hair combing through it as a soft moan leaves your lips as he places hurried kisses on your pulse point below your ear. He nips at the skin there, the action causing you to gasp and grip his hair tightly drawing a low moan from his chest. He pulls away from your neck and looks into your eyes, you bring your hands to his face resting your forehead on his as you both breathe each other in.

“We should probably stop” he pants, voice now rough. You close your eyes and gently kiss his cheek before pulling back slightly to look at him “ but what if I do not wish to?” You whisper a smile pulling at your lips. “What if I want to know all of you now?” You ask quietly slowly placing a kiss to his lips. He shudders his arms tightening around you, gripping the fabric of your night gown “you don’t know what you do to me… I am trying to be a gentleman” he mumbles against your lips. You move so your mouth is next to his ear “I do not want you to be” you whisper. And that breaks him.

His hands move to grip the back of your head and around your waist before quickly flipping the both of you. You land on your back and he wastes no time in capturing your lips once again. His hand at your waist moves to grip your leg and hooks it around his hip as he scoots you both further up the bed, the tiara clatters to the ground but neither of you care enough to make sure it didn’t break. His hand on your leg travels up higher until it rests on your now exposed thigh. He grips the flesh there and you gasp as your hands move down to the hem of his under shirt, sliding them underneath it and up his abdomen feeling his warm skin under your fingertips.

He shudders as your hands move higher and he pulls away from you to help you remove his shirt, he is beautiful. You trail your hands down his now exposed chest, both of you breathing heavy. He rests his forehead on yours closing his eyes “are you sure?” He asks voice breathless. You nod running one of your hands down his cheek and onto his neck “I want all of you” you whisper pulling him into a kiss. His hand on your thigh moves higher pushing your night gown up around your waist exposing your lower half, he shifts so he can reach down and untie his trousers.

You help him push them off and he looks at you “tell me to stop if it’s too much” he pants lining himself up at your entrance. You nod and suck in a breath at the blunt head pushing slowly into you. It burns, the stretch unfamiliar and invading. Your hands grip his shoulders nails digging into the skin there. He pushes in further and you wince causing him to still “are you alright?” He asks nuzzling his face into your neck. “Y-yes.. don’t stop” you stutter placing a light peck on his shoulder.

He pushes until his hips are flush with yours groaning into your neck holding you tightly. You both stay like that for a few moments, wrapped in each other. Eventually James slowly starts to pull back before pushing in again. You shudder at the friction and he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You bring your other leg to hook around his other hip, the angle opening you up more making it so he can go deeper. Slowly his pace picks up and the pain you feel dulls slightly, it starts to become more enjoyable.

One particularly deep thrust draws a surprising moan from your lips, your head titling back at the sudden pleasure you found in it. James brings his lips to your neck peppering kisses there and down to your collar bone, his chin drags down the neckline of your nightgown as he kisses lower. With new confidence that would’ve shocked you in any other situation you manage to shift your weight and roll you both over. You straddle his hips, hands rested on his bare chest as you settle into the new position.

Moaning at the feeling of him seemingly feeling deeper within you now, he sits up with you grabbing the hem of your nightgown and pulling it up and over your body “so beautiful” he moans cupping one of your breasts bringing his face closer to it and placing opened mouth kisses. You gasp and rock your hips moving your hands to his shoulders for more support. He bites gently on the soft flesh near your nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking, you moan rather loudly at the action and pick up your pace rocking into him harder.

His free hand wraps around your naked waist and pulls you flush against his chest. Lifting his head he captures your lips in a sloppy kiss moaning into your mouth as his own hips buck up to meet your movements. You move a hand to his hair tangling it in there and pulling “fuck” he groans thrusting up into you roughly. He pulls his face back slightly moving his hand from your breast to your cheek placing his forehead against yours, you breathes mingling between you both. “I love you” he pants look into your eyes, you place a kiss to his lips and pull back again looking into his eyes “I love you more”

——

3 years later

“Ian come back! You’ll get your trousers all muddy!” You shout watching the small three year old run off towards one of the fountains in the gardens. You shake your head smiling as he slows slightly, now trying to take careful steps to avoid any stray puddles. James chuckles beside you “at least he’s mindful?” He questions and you roll your eyes at him as you walk slowly along the path. “I just don’t want to have to change him again before dinner” you state softly linking your arm in his “you know Miriam has said she doesn’t mind changing his clothes” James states lightly, you nod “I know, but I like doing it. I am his mother” you say and James places a kiss to your temple “you are an amazing mother but help is always nice, especially with how our son loves to adventure and have dirty trousers” he says.

You stop at the fountain your son is currently trying to get into, his small body hanging on the side splashing the water with his finger tips. James gently pulls away from you and goes over to him, he picks him up and dangles him over his shoulder causing the small child to squeal in excitement laughing as his father tickles his sides “stop dada!” He squeals trying to wiggle out of his grasp “stop? Why would I stop?” He questions jokingly. You laugh and walk over to them poking at James’s side “give me my son you monster” you joke grabbing Ian from his father.

You hold him to you tightly and he wraps his arms around your neck nuzzling his face into your shoulder. You gently rub a hand through his brown hair, James gapes at the two of you “my heart” he says dramatically, bringing a hand to his heart “you call me a monster?” He asks jokingly. You smile leaning your head onto your sons “he is just a poor little boy” you say softly, laughing lightly as Ian mutters a “yeah” turning his head and sticking his tongue out towards his father. James shakes his head lightly bitting back a smile.

The three of you continue your walk, eventually you place Ian back down and both you and James grab each of his hands picking him up gently and swinging him as you go, he giggles and squeals kicking his feet as he gets picked up. “Momma what’s that?” He asks as you both place him down again, he takes his small hand out of yours and points. You squint looking towards where he points “Oh, I completely forgot that was there” you say softly and look to James, he looks towards it and smiles “it’s a gazebo” he says looking down at Ian. The small boys face scrunches up as he looks at it more “grazedo?” He says tilting his head looking up at you. You laugh light shaking your head “gazebo sweetheart” you correct softly.

“May I go see it?” He asks softly and you nod “yes but be careful please!” You call after him as he’s already taking off towards it leaving you and James a few feet behind. You both smile and follow the small boy towards the old wooden structure. “You know, we should really ask for someone to fix this up” you say softly, reaching out to touch the old wood of one of the pillars that holds it up, your eyes following Ian as he moves around inside of it. “Should probably just tear it down.. build a new one maybe?” James questions, you nod softly stepping into it and brushing some dirt and leaves off of the bench before sitting. “Perhaps, but then we’d be tearing down memories… and it’d be a nice place for Ian to be able to bring his siblings to.” You say softly looking at James as he leans on the pillar “siblings?” He asks cocking an eyebrow.

You hum softly “yes, I believe in a year or so this one will be running rampant with him” you say smiling placing a hand on your abdomen. It takes him a moment, he just stands there looking at you confused before realization crosses over his features and then shock “y-you mean.. your?” He asks taking a step towards you “about two months along now says the healer” you say nonchalantly and James quickly rushes over to you picking you up and spinning you. You laugh and he sets you down placing a kiss to your lips “yucky dada” the three year old now standing on one of the benches states, James pulls away from you and turns towards him “it’s not yucky, it’s love Ian” he says picking up the small boy and bring him over towards you.

“Love?” He asks looking at his father “yes, love. I love your mother and you very deeply. And now you’ll have a little bother or sister to add to the love” he explains and the boys face scrunches “brother or sister?” He asks look towards you “yes my heart, there’s a baby in my belly. Right here” you point and he smiles “momma ate a baby?” He asks with a laugh and you shake your head as James joins him “no silly, I’ll explain it better when you are older” you say lightly reaching out and brushing some of his hair out of his face. “Can it be a sister?” He asks as you move your hand back to your side. “I hope” James mutters and you eye him before shaking your head “we won’t know what it is until it is born my dear” you explain and Ian nods before wiggling out of James’s grasp again and wondering out of the gazebo.

You call for him not to go far as James pulls you close to him, one of his hands gently coming to your face “I love you, all of you” he says softly rubbing his thumb along your cheek, you smile “we love you more”.

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.

"Well, I heard he's headin' up North. Gonna buy some real estate," you say as you check the temperature on the chicken. You're making one of Lee's favorite dinners in the hopes that he'll stay the night.

"I never liked the guy," he spouts, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Well, he was awful nice to me today," you say, poking at Lee's jealous buttons.

"What do ya mean by that, darlin'?"

"Oh, just complimentin' my dress. I wore that new red one my mom sent me. Sayin' "you're too pretty to be workin' somewhere so dull"," you tell him, tasting mashed potatoes from your index finger.

"Well, if he hadn't already hit the road, I'd be pullin' that smarmy son of a bitch over," he huffs. "No one talks to my girl like that."

You hum, satisfied. "Didn't realize I was your girl, Lee."

It’s Sam’s niece’s birthday party—princess theme, pink balloons, plastic tiaras, the whole thing. You volunteered to help with face painting because you’re good with kids and you didn’t mind glitter under your fingernails for a day. Bucky had tagged along, claiming he wanted to “support” you, which you’d translated to: stand around looking intimidating so no one’s weird uncle tries to hit on you.

What neither of you expected was Olivia.

Olivia is six. Olivia has a crooked ponytail and grass-stained knees and a missing front tooth. Olivia has decided you are her person.

It starts innocently enough. She wants a butterfly painted on her cheek and refuses to let anyone else do it. She holds your wrist with both hands while you work like she’s afraid you might evaporate. When you finish, she beams up at you like you’ve just handed her the moon.

“You’re the prettiest,” she informs you very seriously.

From somewhere over your shoulder, Bucky snorts.

You glance back at him. He’s leaning against the fence, sunglasses on, arms crossed over his broad chest. He looks like a Secret Service agent accidentally dropped into a kindergarten class. His mouth twitches when you catch him watching.

Olivia notices too.

She narrows her eyes at him.

“Who’s that?” she asks.

“My boyfriend,” you say lightly.

Olivia studies him with open suspicion. “He looks grumpy.”

Bucky pushes off the fence and strolls closer, crouching down to her level. “I’m not grumpy,” he says, voice low and smooth. “I’m… selectively friendly.”

Olivia gasps softly and steps closer to you. “He’s scary.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“I am not scary,” Bucky protests, offended in a way that is so deeply adult that it makes this entire situation ten times funnier.

Olivia slips her hand into yours.

Possessively.

Bucky’s eyes drop to your joined hands.

It begins.

For the next thirty minutes, Olivia refuses to leave your side. She drags you to the bounce house. She demands you watch her attempt a cartwheel. She insists you sit next to her during present time. Every time Bucky gets within three feet of you, she wedges herself in between.

It’s subtle at first. A shoulder nudge. A strategic lean.

Then it becomes blatant.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the blanket while Olivia opens gifts, and Bucky lowers himself down on your other side. His thigh presses warm against yours. You instinctively lean into him.

Olivia notices.

Without breaking eye contact with Bucky, she scoots closer to you until she’s practically in your lap.

Bucky arches a brow.

Olivia lifts her chin.

You press your fist to your mouth to stop yourself from cackling.

He tries diplomacy first.

“So, Olivia,” he says smoothly, “how about I show you a magic trick?”

Her eyes flicker with interest—then suspicion. “What kind?”

“The kind where I make this cupcake disappear.”

He reaches for the cupcake in your hand.

Olivia slaps his hand away.

You lose it.

Actually lose it.

A bark of laughter escapes you before you can stop it, and Bucky looks betrayed.

“She assaulted me,” he says.

“She’s six,” you wheeze.

Olivia folds her arms. “She was eating that.”

“I was going to give her mine,” Bucky argues.

Olivia narrows her eyes again, then turns to you sweetly. “You can have mine if you want.”

Bucky stares at her.

“Oh, it’s like that?” he mutters.

You are crying laughing now.

It escalates from there.

Bucky tries to win her over by pushing her on the swing set. Olivia accepts the push but only if you stand in front of her the entire time. She keeps shouting, “Higher! But only if she’s watching!”

Bucky jogs behind her, competitive even now. “I can push higher than that.”

“No you can’t,” she shoots back.

He pushes higher.

She squeals in delight and immediately looks at you. “Did you see that? He’s trying to impress you.”

Bucky nearly trips.

At some point, someone suggests a three-legged race for the adults and kids. Before Bucky can volunteer, Olivia grabs your hand.

“She’s with me.”

Bucky blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You can be with Uncle Sam,” Olivia informs him kindly.

Sam, who has been watching this entire thing with vicious enjoyment, grins. “Sorry, Barnes. She’s claimed.”

Bucky crosses his arms. “This is rigged.”

You shouldn’t encourage him.

You absolutely shouldn’t.

But you lean in close and murmur, “You’re losing to a first grader.”

His jaw tightens.

“Oh, I’m not losing,” he says quietly. “I’m gathering intel.”

He switches tactics.

Instead of trying to outshine Olivia, he starts helping her.

He ties her shoelaces before the race. He steadies her when she wobbles. When she gets shy lining up with the other kids, he crouches down and murmurs something that makes her giggle.

You watch his face soften in a way it only does when he forgets to guard himself.

And you feel something warm bloom in your chest.

The race starts. You and Olivia tumble spectacularly halfway through and end up in a heap of grass and limbs. She’s laughing so hard she can barely breathe. You’re not much better.

Bucky is there instantly, hauling both of you upright.

“You okay?” he asks, hands gentle on your shoulders.

“I won,” Olivia declares.

“You came in third,” he says.

“That’s basically first.”

He stares at her for a long moment, then nods solemnly. “You’re right. That’s on me.”

She beams.

And then—without hesitation—she throws her arms around his neck.

Bucky freezes.

Slowly, awkwardly, his arms come up around her small frame.

“Don’t be grumpy,” she tells him.

“I’m not grumpy,” he mutters, softer now.

“You can like her,” Olivia says seriously. “But I like her too.”

His eyes flick up to yours over her shoulder.

And there it is—the surrender.

He presses a kiss to the top of Olivia’s head. “Deal,” he says. “We can share.”

She considers this.

Then she turns to you and whispers loudly, “He’s okay.”

You laugh again, wiping grass from your knees.

Later, when the cake is gone and the balloons are deflated and Olivia has been scooped up by her parents, Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side.

“I could’ve taken her,” he grumbles.

“Sure you could’ve, big guy.”

He kisses your temple. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did,” you admit shamelessly. “You were outsmarted by a six-year-old.”

He hums thoughtfully. “She’s got good instincts.”

“About?”

He squeezes you closer. “You.”

And just like that, the ridiculous competition fades into something softer.