#x chubby reader

"where ya goin'? class just ended, sweetie."

"i can't stay," you said quickly, heeled boots clicking rapidly against the floor. you'd dress so cute that—polka-dot glasses, a pink off-the-shoulder sweater, black skirt, and knee-high boots that really captured the prime look of a college girl! and it was being wasted because this motherfucker was ogling you. "i have to go back to my dorm."

"why? need an escort?"

"no, i know the way."

"well, someone might hassle you."

"somebody already is hassling me."

"huh?" that made naoya pause—but only momentarily. once he realized what you meant, he fell back into step behind you, seeming even more determined than before. "got some bite on you. i like that. lot of women don't know when they should play it easy or hard to get—you do."

you hated when guys couldn't just take no for an answer the first time. because that meant you had to use the next excuse up your sleeve—

"my boyfriend wouldn't like that you're following me. i really can't stay and talk, and i'd like it if you would kindly leave me alone."

you said it as curtly and politely as you could, then, before the surprised naoya could reboot and say anything else, you bolted through the doors of the humanities hall and out into the spring day.

campus was lively in the afternoon. there was ultimate frisbee and football being played, groups of friends on picnic blankets talking and tanning, girls swirling their boba and iced coffee as they commuted from classes and dorms—and there was ryomen's and a handful of his frat sitting on benches in the quad, lounging after smoking.

well, choso and geto were still slightly buzzed. toji hadn't taken a pass, and it took more than a few puffs to get to ryomen.

"oh my god, i can't feel my tongue," choso muttered, rubbing his eyes. his black mullet was shaggy, messed up, and he smelled like he'd been waterboarded in geto's cologne to cover up the post-smell of weed.

geto, sitting wide and strumming his guitar absently, grinned lazily. "you're too easy, man. second-hand molly in the wind would get you fucked."

"nuh-uh."

"uh-huh."

"shut the fuck up," toji muttered, waving his hand dismissively as he rubbed his face with the other. "i still have a goddamn headache."

"not our fault you hit your head on a fucking table last night," ryomen laughed.

toji groaned, turning his head to look off into the distance. the activity on campus only worsened his pulsing skull. "swear to god, 'm concussed or something. shouldn't have on that chair when i was drunk."

"you should've came." choso tapped ryomen's knee. "where were you?"

"with his giiiirrrllll," geto teased.

"yeah, yeah." ryomen didn't care if everyone in all of fucking tokyo knew he was whipped—he was whipped for you, his sweet little girlfriend. "not my fault i wanna spend one night of the weekend watchin' pretty woman again instead of watching toji crack his head open."

like he was summoned by his name, toji started shaking ryomen's shoulder. "dude."

"one sec—" ryomen was about to say something else to choso, but toji wrenched his arm to the side. "what the fuck! what?"

"look where i'm fuckin' looking." toji pointed across the quad. "isn't that—"

"holy shit," geto said when he saw you briskly walking and crying, like you were trying to escape someone—you had been.

choso frowned when he followed everyone's line of sight. "is that your girlfriend? why is she crying?"

"i... gotta go." ryomen got up from the bench without another word and started across the quad. when he realized how fast you were walking, he thanked god that he was an athlete and started running after you. "hey!"

when you hear a male voice, you automatically moved quicker, expecting it to be naoya again—but then it repeated, and you recognized ryomen.

"baby? hey, slow the hell down!"

fuck. you didn't want him to see you crying. think, think, think—

but it was too late. ryomen had reached you, grabbed you by the shoulder, and turned you around in an instant. "shit, thought i was going to lose you. what's—"

you couldn't held but sob even harder when he began to ask you what was wrong, and ryomen gaped at your puffy, round face, smudged mascara, and the salty streams of tears down your cheeks.

"oh god, angel. what's wrong? c'mere, can i hold you?"

as expected, since he had the biggest soft spot and change of attitude when he was with you, ryomen engulfed you in the comforting embrace of his arms and let you bury your face and ruined makeup against his racing jacket.

"ok, ok," he whispered softly against your hair as he stroked it. "deep breaths. in and out, yeah? gotta calm down and take proper breaths. can i see your purse, please, hon? don'tcha keep tissues in there?"

"i—" you wheezed slightly, trying not to choke on tears or words. "i was gonna wait inside until i looked for 'em..."

"all right, well, i'm here now. let me see."

carefully, he slipped your purse off your shoulder, located the pack of tissues inside, then extracted one so that he could dab your face gently. "there we go. better, hm? keep breathing f'me, just like that, pretty girl."

when you had calmed down enough to not explosively weep again, ryomen caressed the side of your face and asked, "tell me what happened."

you crossed your arms, lips pursed in a pout. "no."

you knew what he would do if you told him that naoya zenin bothered you...

"what? fuck you mean—" he inhaled slowly, then tried again, softer. "angel, how can i help if i don't know what's wrong? or—how are you gonna feel better if you don't talk about what made you cry like that? i mean, you were going pretty fast in those heels, i imagine something happened."

after a pause, he hardened. "did someone fucking do something to you?"

"ryo—"

"nah, don't give me that soft stuff. tell me who and what."

"it wasn't anything serious!" you insisted, holding him tightly. "seriously."

"tell. me."

"promise me you won't be mad!"

"no."

"ryo!"

"was it a guy?" he brushed a few hairs out of your face, grimacing. "i'll beat the shit out of him if it was."

"it was a small incident. small, that's it."

"or was it a girl? 'cuz satoshi's brother satoru knows a girl named shoko in pre-med, she'll fight anyone—unless you don't care if i do it, because i'll hit anyone you ask, babe—"

"stop!" you shook him slightly. "a guy kept following me around and bothering me, i just wanted him to go away—and he did! he just... overwhelmed me. i was scared."

ryomen stared at you when you finished speaking. he blinked a few times and nodded slowly, tongue against the inside of his cheek. "ok. yeah, ok."

you frowned, watching as his face contorted. "what?"

"this happened just now?"

"um... like ten minutes ago."

"where?"

you picked at your nails, growing nervous. "...the humanities building."

he'd turned on his heel without a second thought, and you hurried after him, having known he probably would've gone off the moment you gave him all the details, like a bloodhound with a scent for prey.

"wait—ryo! it's not that big of a deal!"

"not that big of a deal my ass." he was practically snarling.

who you didn't expect to see soon after ryomen was on his war path was the culprit himself. naoya was crossing the pavement, staring at his phone—but when he saw the tattooed, six-foot-four jock headed his general direction, he couldn't help but freeze. you also stopping, surprised and wary, was a dead giveaway on who the guy ryomen was looking for was.

ryomen glanced between naoya and you, then pointed. "him?"

you slowly let go of his arm, knowing there was little you could do to help the situation or stop your boyfriend. "yeah..."

calmly—too fucking calmly—he continued down the sidewalk until he was a few yards from naoya, then he nodded once and said, "hey, man."

naoya, contemplating fight or flight, tried to remain casual and nodded back. "hey..."

"wanna ask you—you bother that girl over there earlier?" he jutted a thumb over his shoulder, at your nervous figure in the distance.

"i didn't bother her. i was just talking to her."

"in what way."

"huh?"

"In what way—because you sound like a really shitty guy to talk to if she walked away crying."

"not my fault she didn't—"

before naoya could finish casting off whatever blame onto you, ryomen winded back a tight fist and clocked him in the nose.

naoya yowled in pain the moment the fist connected with his face, and he recoiled, hands snapping up to cover his soon-to-bleed nose. "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"ryomen!" you cried from behind him.

across the quad, it seemed that the others ryomen were with before had witnessed everything.

"ry!" toji waved a relaxed arm, like he knew ryomen had everything handled but still wanted to be nice and extend an offer. "good?"

ryomen cracked his knuckles, then wrung out his pulsing hand. "yeah, he shouted back. "good."

"is she ok?" choso called over, pointing at you.

"i'll take care of her."

"'kay, i guess." geto watched the entire thing with a skeptical look. "see you later."

without exchanging any words, ryomen returned to you and carted you up to his dorm. he was glad that you didn't protest or refuse to go with him—he surely thought you were mad at him, until you whispered the soft "thank you" to him at his door. he simply kissed your head and pushed the door open.

in his dorm, he insisted you clean while he ordered food. lounging in his bed, shirtless now and just in a pair of sweatpants, he scrolled on his phone while resting a hand on you. you'd positioned yourself beside him after cleaning off your tear-streaked makeup and changing into one of his hoodies.

"sushi and boba, or thai?" ryomen asked, rubbing slow circles on your thighs. he loved to grip the plush there, to kiss up from your calf to the softness of your belly—he would later, but right then, he was focused on getting you fed and rested, the two things he thought key in recovering from bad days. "wait. chinese?"

you ran a hand through his hair and leaned over to peck his cheek. "anything."

"you always say that, baby."

"i know."

"ok. sushi and boba."

you smiled. "i trained you right."

taking a moment, ryomen dropped his phone and grabbed your jaw to bring you in for a full, proper kiss that lasted until you were both breathless. and when you pulled away only slightly, hovering closely above him, lips still brushing, he licked his lips and smiled. "you're ok, right? not mad?"

"no," you said, tilting your head slightly. "not mad. maybe a little annoyed that you always jump to violence, but... i really appreciate you wanting to protect me. i know you just want me to be all right in the end."

"damn right i do. i love you, gorgeous."

smiling, you kissed him once more. "i love you too, ryo. now order the food before the place closes."

send me asks <3

buy me a kofi

It had been a long day, full of flying, patrolling the area on the lookout for any suspicious activity around the clan’s current home near the Tree of Souls, where you had to be forcibly relocated after the skypeople destroyed the Hometree. You were finally granted rest time and you head straight to the riverbank to wash your face and arms of the sweat and dirt that caked your blue skin, a satisfied sigh left your lips as the water cooled your flesh. You sat back on your heels, eyes closed, basking in the fading sunset as your ears twitched, taking in the sounds of the running water, the distant calls of ikrans in the sky, the quiet chirping of prolemuris as they swung through the trees.

Your eyes snapped open as your ears twitched to the left, hearing a shrill little giggle. It sounded so childlike. You turned to face the noise, finding a white-fleshed creature waddling its way towards the riverbank. It was covered in a loincloth similar to the kind your people wear, yellow hair frizzy and untamed down his back. A black mask stuck to its face and dirt caked its arms, legs and stomach. A skyperson. But it was so small? So tiny and helpless. A baby? You had never seen a baby skyperson before, and looking at this one, it was very difficult to believe they could grow up to be such heartless beings.

It didn’t seem to be aware of your presence at first, scurrying around, following something crawling along the floor. You watched intently, tracking its every move. Even as the child slipped on a wet rock and fell onto his behind. Your four fingered hand came up to cover your mouth to muffle the laugh behind it. The little human finally saw you then, head turning to look at you. He stayed on the floor for a few moments before immediately getting back onto his feet, waddling over to you. You were unsure how to proceed. What if his parents were nearby ready to shoot with their big guns? Did his presence mean you were close to others? Your ears and sense of smell told you otherwise, but your guard was raised nonetheless.

The small boy slowed down as he reached your kneeled form, you were so much taller than him just like this. It was comical seeing how much his head tilted back to look you in the face. It was enough to cause your mouth to split into a smile, making the human let out another giggle. His hands opened and closed as they reached out towards you, wanting to be held.

By all logic, you should pick the boy up and throw him in the river, discard of one more skyperson. It was what your head was telling you to do, but your heart and all your instincts had you moving towards the little boy. Hesitantly, your big hands cupped him underneath his armpits to lift him off the ground. It was as if he weighed nothing at all. You held him out in front of you, turning him to look over him, checking for injuries or perhaps even a hint he belonged to someone.

The baby human only giggled at being spun around, his hands opening and closing into tiny fists as he whined, reaching for you, gurgling nonsense, not even full words. Slowly, you brought him closer, his head resting on your chest. The contact soothed him, his whining stopping immediately, his small arms doing their best to fit around your neck as his head rested upon your shoulder. Your hands moved to slide one underneath his bottom whilst the other cradled the back of his head.

You slowly stood, turning to look all around you, but yet again, there was no sign of any other skypeople. You decided you would have to take him to the Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully, to decide his fate. Your tail swished behind you as you took a leisurely walk towards your home camp, glancing down every so often at the little boy in your arms. His hands had come down to play with the beads on your top, tracing them with his tiny fingers. The sight filled you with deep emotion.

You had lost your chance to be mated before the eyes of Eywa, your chosen mate losing his life in the skypeople battle before you could bond. In grief, you hadn’t chosen another mate and therefore had not been granted the blessing of children. Many times you had dreamt of seeing little fingers curled up against your chest just like this, carrying your baby protectively through the forest. Your closed off maternal instincts overpowered you as you looked down at the small boy. You made a silent vow to protect him until he was safe.

You were a few feet from the edge of the home camp when you heard panicked shouting, causing you to pick up your pace. Your hands held the boy closer to you as you ran, only slowing once you saw your fellow Na’vi. The first being the Olo'eyktan himself. At the sight of you, he came to a halt and looked down at your arms.

“Spider! Oh buddy we were looking everywhere for you. Where did you find him?” Jake came over to you, his attention turning to you after seeing the boy Spider was okay. Your hands loosened their hold so he could see Jake in front of him, the young boy giving him a wide smile before looking back up at you. Your teeth bared in a grin as you moved the hand on the back of his head to lightly stroke the bridge of Spider’s nose, “This little thing was running towards the riverbank. He came towards me and asked to be held. I accepted his request.” Spider giggled and grabbed onto your long finger.

Jake looked surprised at you, though your focus was trained onto Spider so you took no notice. The movement of tree branches had you all looking towards Neytiri who walked forwards to scowl at the boy in your hold. Jake waved his hand in Spider’s direction, “You see? He needs us, he doesn’t have anyone back there to look after him. It’s not safe for him there.”

Neytiri grunted, her disdain clear on her face, “He does not belong here. He was here for seconds and yet he cause trouble, running away. I cannot permit this, Ma’Jake.”

Jake ran a frustrated hand over his face, “Baby please, he has no where else to go, both his parents are dead. We can teach him our ways, he won’t grow up to be like the others.” Neytiri still wasn’t convinced, her teeth baring in a snarl as she glared at Spider. The sight made you hold the boy a little tighter. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, holding yourself a little higher. “I will take care of him.”

Both Neytiri and Jake snapped their eyes to you. One of shock and one of relief. Jake took a step forward, placing a strong hand on your shoulder, “Thank you, (Y/N), thank you. I am indebted to you for this.” Neytiri frowned, looking between you and her husband before giving a reluctant nod, she wasn’t going to win this battle,

“Very well. You are now responsible for the human. Raise it properly and perhaps it will not grow into its insanity.”

“-om, Mom!” A small nudge in the middle of your back had you shaking out of your memories. You lifted your arm to look behind you, seeing Spider standing there with a basket of berries. You smiled down at your adoptive son, patting him on his head. “Mom, you were like completely zoned out, I was calling you for ages.”

“Apologies, my son, I was just thinking about the day I took you in.” Spider wrapped his arm around your waist in a hug, “You were so tiny, and helpless. I can see not much has changed.”

Your soft laughter rang through the air as Spider tried to tackle you to the ground but his human body was no match for your Na’vi strength. “You’re not funny mom!” He whined as you pushed him back, reaching down to tickle his sides, grinning at his laughs. Only when his breathing got too shallow did you stop, immediately kneeling down to get face level with him, checking the oxygen markings on his mask. Still high. Spider rolled his eyes at your big eyes full of worry, placing his hands over your own, “Mom I’m fine, c’mon. Look I got you some berries, I know you’ve been craving them lately. I went with Kiri before you start worrying I was alone.”

The tone in your voice turned playful at the mention of Kiri, “Oh, Kiri hm? You’re often alone with the Sully girl aren’t you Son.” His smaller hands swatted at you but you brushed them off, “Ugh mom! We’re just friends.” Your smile widened as your hand brushed through Spider’s blonde dreads, “Mawey Son, I am just teasing you. Come, it is time to welcome the warriors back from patrol.”

You placed your hand on Spider’s shoulder, guiding him alongside you as you walked forward, your tail swishing behind you. You tilted your head back to release a call for your ikran, Amay, who came a few seconds afterwards. She was large and beautiful, all kinds of shades of blue adorned her tough skin. She screeched as she landed, bowing down before you to allow you to sit on her back. You reached behind you to grab your queue to bond with Amay, leaning back to make space for Spider who promptly crawled over to sit in front of you. Once he was comfortable, you held onto her and flew her around to the other side of the Hallelujah mountains where your clan had been moved due to the decision of your leader, Jake Sully.

The past year since the RDA had come back, your world felt unsafe once again. The skypeople were relentless in their pursuits and you often feared for your people, and your son’s life. You had no idea what might happen to him should he be taken by them. A human with a life’s worth of knowledge about the Na’vi way of life was sure to be valuable to them.

It didn’t take long before you landed at the camps, helping Spider down onto the ground before releasing your bond with Amay, allowing her to fly away to rest. You watched with a knowing smile as your son immediately made his way over to the eldest Sully daughter. She was a sweet young girl and had never treated your son as anything less than an equal, it wasn’t hard to understand why Spider was so attached to her and the rest of the Sully kids.

Jake called all the riders to the tent at the back of the cave, gathering for a debrief on the latest patrol. You were quick to follow the others, knowing your son would be fine with the Sully girl.

A few hours had passed, darkness spread through the night and fatigue was starting to take over in you. Your ears twitched along with your nose as you picked up the fading scent of Spider, where had he gone?

“(Y/N)! The kids and Spider are in danger, I need your help!” There was no time to waste, running alongside your chief as you both ran towards the edge of camp, shouting for your ikrans. You glanced over to your right to see Neytiri following closely behind, the three of you gliding through the air to the coordinates Jake had gotten from his son. It was like you could feel the blood pumping around your veins in a mixture of rage and worry. All of them were just children, but Spider was vulnerable especially without his mask. He needed you, you could feel it.

Landing as quietly as possible in a tree close to Lo’ak’s coordinates, the three of you stepped down from your ikrans, ears perking as you picked up the sounds of struggle ahead. Jake gave you and Neytiri hand signals, with his wife turning off right as you headed towards the left, taking out your knife to grip tightly in your hand. You crouched down low, your steps light on the ground as you made your way unnoticed towards a small clearing. There you saw all of the children held up by demons, or Avatars, as Jake would have you call them.

You watched as Jake made the first move, taking down a guard in front of him. You scowled at the avatar in front of you, waiting for the moment he stepped back, far enough away from the view of the others to strike. One more step. Now.

You lunged, jumping up to wrap your legs around him to keep him still, one hand covering his mouth as the other sliced his neck, jumping off to slowly lower his body to the ground. Two down but still too many to go. The upper hand was yours, your positions kept secret. Until Neytiri fired her bow into the head of a demon right next to the tallest demon of them all. He held your son’s hair tight, the pain on his face forced a snarl from you. The avatars turned to shoot in Neytiri’s direction, foolishly keeping their backs to you.

You rushed out of hiding, using your knife to stab through the stomach of one man, hissing as you pushed him away, pulling your weapon back to wield again. You ducked a hit from the man to his left, coming back up to push your knife into his chest.

“Mom!”

Spider’s voice distracted you only for mere moments but it was enough time to have you be grabbed by your queue, a foot to the back of your legs forcing you onto your knees. You snarled and snapped your jaw at the hands trying to grab at your face.

“Well lookey here. Ain’t you a little spitfire.” The tallest Demon, the one Neytiri recognised, walked closer to stand in front of you. His eyes held curiosity as he stared down at you. You had killed three of his men and yet he smirked down at you? But it was irrelevant, he took your son and now he needed to pay.

You glared up at the demon man before you, jaw clenched in unmeasurable anger. A rusting and a cry of pain had your head turning to see Spider being held unconscious on the shoulders of the female demon. A quick scan around the clearing showed all the Sully kids and their parents nowhere to be seen. At least they made it out safely but the sight of your son in the hands of that bitch turned against your better judgement. Your elbow drew back into the stomach of the demon behind you, releasing his hold on your queue to spin around, kicking your leg out behind you to swipe him off his feet. Your hands grabbed handfuls of dirt into your palms to throw at the face of the demon in front of you. It was juvenile and not well planned but it worked for long enough to be able to get close to your son.

Just as your hand held onto Spider’s the feeling of something cold pressed against your forehead. The weapon the female demon was holding in her hands dug into your skin as your bared your teeth at her. “Stand down, Z.” The she-demon frowned but obediently pulled back her weapon. You snarled at her, “Give me back my son.”

An amused laugh echoed in the clearing, the taller man coming into view as he walked to the side of you, wiping the mud from his face. “Your son huh? Is that right? Forgive me if I’m wrong but uh ain’t you a little too blue for a son who looks like that?”

Your gaze hardened, “I have raised him since he was a little boy. He is my son and I will not let you demons take him from me, or I swear to Eywa I will hunt you down and kill every last one of you with my bare hands.”

Quaritch’s mouth spread into a grin, his small fangs revealing themselves into the night, “Ain’t that a pretty promise? Alright, we’re taking her too boys, let’s roll out.” His hand came up to grab your wrists, placing a strange black binding around them, “No biting cupcake, or I’ll have to muzzle you.” You answered his words with a hiss, only gaining another laugh. Your tail swished in fury, preparing to make another attack even with your bound hands. That was, before you were hit in the side of the head with the gun of the marine behind you, knocking you unconscious.

The sound of the helicopter above had Quaritch leaning down to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, as they made their way towards the landing hovercraft. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure Spider was in tow with the others.

-

Your lungs burned as you awoken, mouth open desperately trying to gulp down air that wasn’t meant for your body. Your vision blurry as your arms swung around, fighting for survival. A blue blur in front of you came closer, grabbing something from your chest to press over your nose and mouth.

“Breathe. That’s it. Nice and slowly.” You greedily swallowed down four big inhales of air before your heart rate slowed down enough to regain full consciousness. Blinking, your sight cleared to recognise the blue blur as the soldier from (you assumed) last night. Immediately, you bared your teeth to snarl at him, ears pinning back and making a move to strike him. Your wrists were caught before you could make contact, his grip firm but not enough to cause pain.

He could only smile at your defiance, “I like the fire in you, lady. We haven’t been formally introduced, the names Miles Quaritch.”

Your nose scrunched in distrust for the man. “I have no desire to know you, Demon.” Quaritch smirked as he let go of you, either foolishly thinking you wouldn’t try to attack him again, or cocky enough to assume he could stop you a second time.

“I’d beg to differ. We seem to have a common interest. The boy, Spider, is my son.” Your eyes widened in shock, that surely wasn’t possible, he had to be lying. Quaritch continued, “Not from this body of course. I was a human killed by Mrs Sully, my memories stored and placed into this body. He was born just before things went tits up for us, his mom died fighting alongside me.”

“Wrong. I am his mother.” The scoff from Quaritch’s mouth made you angry, as if you were a child lying for attention. “I took him in, cared for him as my own for fourteen years! I have been there through the sickness, through the good. I have wiped his tears and bathed his tiny body. I have been the one to keep him fed and soothe him to sleep. I am his mother in every sense of the word and I will not let you or anyone take him from me.”

Quaritch stood still for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest, looking you up and down and nodded once, twice. “That right? Guess I owe you some kind of thanks then, for keeping my boy safe and sound.” You didn’t bother hiding the anger on your safe from hearing Quaritch call Spider ‘his boy’ but at least he didn’t seem to have bad intentions towards your son.

Quaritch lifted his own breathing mask that lay around his neck to take a deep breath before turning to leave the room, his hand reaching for the door handle. “Wait,” he paused, “I want to see him.”

Quaritch pursed his lips at your request, letting out a quiet hum in thought. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, lady.”

“Please.”

Quaritch looked back over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing as they stared into your own. A slow nod, “I’ll see what I can do.” You tried not to show your emotions to this demon but you couldn’t help the relief on your face at the chance of being able to see Spider. No doubt he was feeling scared and angry at being cooped up in this horrible place. The walls were so bright it was making your head hurt to look at them. You sat down on the metal bench, occasionally taking breaths from the mask around your neck as you waited for when you could see your son.

It was hours later when you heard the door to your glorified cage unlock, opening to see Quaritch behind it. Your nose twitched as you recognised Spider’s scent, sitting up straight to look past Quaritch to see Spider pushing his way into the room, “Mom!”

“Spider!” You leapt off your seat, meeting your son halfway in the room, crouching down to take him into your arms. Your large hand cradled the back of his head as you felt your eyes watering, the relief at seeing Spider pushing the tears out of you. You pulled back to start lifting up his arms, looking for any signs of injury, “They didn’t hurt you did they? I swear, if they laid a finger on you I will happily bite them off.” Spider laughed at you, oh how you were so happy to hear that laugh.

You brought your hands up to cup his face, leaning down to press your forehead against his own, feeling his hands wrap around your wrist. “Mawey mom, I’m fine, see!” You smiled at that, he seemed like the same old Spider. You tilted your head up to press a soft kiss against Spider’s forehead, your tail curling around Spider’s leg. You had never seen Spider up close without his mask before, having refused many times to enter the human labs he liked to frequent with his friends. You could see every detail so much clearer, including the red streaks on his cheeks where it was clear he had been crying.

Your eyes flickered up to see Quaritch stood at the entrance, staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression on his face. Seeing he had your attention, he cleared his throat, “That’s enough now, we need to get ready to leave.” His words had you standing immediately, putting yourself in front of your son, “You will not take him from me again, Demon.”

“Mom it’s okay,” Spider’s hand tugging your own did nothing to calm you down, not as Quaritch smirked, taking two steps towards you, limiting the distance to mere inches between the two of you. You hated that you had to crane your neck a little to look up at him and the smug grin on his face. “Oh no little lady, you’re coming with. Spider’s made it very clear he won’t cooperate unless you tag along.”

‘Lady’ you despised that name. It was meant for the sky people, not na’vi like you. Your teeth gritted as you spoke, “My name is (Y/N), not lady.”

“Pretty.” Your ears pinned back as you scowled at him, placing a protective hand over Spider’s chest behind you. Pretty? It was not a word you had often heard about yourself in regard to your name but you refused to feel praise at the compliment. Quaritch held out his hand to you, but you swatted it away, taking hold of your son’s hand as you stepped out of the white box room, ducking so as to not hit your head off the low ceiling. Spider’s hand clenched around yours, “Don’t worry Mom, I’m gonna get us out of here. We just need to play along for a while.”

Your thumb rubbed over the back of Spider’s hand, trying your best to make the smile on your face look genuine. But it was difficult to feel any sort of hope for your future, with it being in the hands of these dangerous creatures. As Quaritch led you two towards yet another skyperson air craft, Spider spoke to you in Na’vi informing you of what it was that you were supposed to be doing.

Adrian wasn’t a sentimental man. 

He walked the tightrope of psychopathy with a grace that most sane people lacked entirely. He didn’t flinch when he took a life, when he hurt someone, when someone hurt him. That lethal indifference to the conditions of his physical body let him do what he did, let him keep the streets clean. He’d take a bullet if he had to. Would kill a kid happily if Peacemaker couldn’t manage it. Anything for the cause, anything to ensure justice was carried out. 

He wasn’t sure if he was someone who felt love in the way others felt it, but he felt an equivalent. When you stripped him down to bare bones and organs, there were names carved messily on his heart just like anyone else. People who had managed to win his disgustingly solid loyalty, his devotee tendencies. Chris had been the first, then John, and now you. 

You hadn’t meant to put your name there, hadn't even realized he’d handed you the knife until the wound was already bleeding. You were nobody special, certainly not someone capable of dismantling an alien race. You were just a friend of a friend, someone who existed in quiet pockets of solitude and occasionally visited Emilia when you knew she was nearing an edge. That’s how it started, how he’d cemented himself as an irreplaceable aspect of the life you now shared with him. 

You worked a job that normal people worked, being different from them only in the tremendous weight of your worry. Your co-workers weren’t dating the deranged defender of their homely city - that was just a you thing. Your co-workers weren’t completely consumed by the possibility of a criminal getting the better of their partner, of having to see headlines about it, of having to watch people celebrate it. 

You were. You could barely breathe with the gravity of it sometimes. 

When the butterfly threat had been neutralized, you were thrilled to have Adrian go back to thieves and dealers. It wasn’t ideal, but he loved it, and you loved seeing him fulfilled. More importantly, he could handle those threats. He made it look easy with how equipped he was for it

Post 11th Street Kids, you and him had managed weeks of peace and domesticity. Nothing deadly hung over your heads anymore, just quiet nights and shared laughter over the absurd headlines being written about him. It was perfect, and it was calm, and it was yours. Something the two of you had all on your own.

After Chris tasked your lover with helping him clean up the corpse of his doppelganger, you knew that time was over. Something new was starting, and at the core of Adrian’s involvement was, yet again, Peacemaker. 

You never liked him much. You’d been excited to meet him after hearing the man you love speak so fondly of him. How he was a legend, how he was a role model, how they were best friends. After you’d met him, though, you saw the acidic truth that Adrian’s dedication wasn’t always reciprocated. In this case, it wasn’t even respected. 

You’d tried your hardest to voice it, to tell him what you’d felt, what you’d seen. How it seemed like Chris enjoyed him only as long as he was useful, only for the purposes he could serve. He’d looked heartbroken before you even finished talking, so you stopped. You cleaned it up, said Peacemaker just wasn’t your kind of person, but that Adrian was his own man. If he valued the friendship, that was what mattered. You showed your distaste through pointed stares and flat tones whenever you saw him, letting his pleasantries rot in the air like neglected fruit. 

Chris had been the cause of your first fight in months. Something entirely too burdensome for such a late hour. He’d called for Vigilante a little after 9, saying that he needed something in the other dimension, and he wanted backup for it. You told Adrian that the request was ludicrous, that not only was it late, but that it wasn’t his problem. Whatever strife the helmet-clad asshole was dealing with was something of his own doing. He should stay, go to bed, stop running to Chris’ every beck and call. 

He slammed the door on the way out. You went to bed angry. Something you both had promised never to do. 

The door didn’t slam on his way back in. He shut it gently with the hands of a man who’d lost a battle. His footsteps dragged, presumably staining the floor of your holy place with inevitable sins of the outside. It woke you up immediately, the irregularity. He didn’t walk like that. He didn’t open things like they’d yell at him if he pressed too hard. He entered spaces as he was, grand and malevolent. It made you nearly question his identity, question whether or not it was him who’d just walked into the bedroom. His breathing was audible for a moment, sounding like his lungs were shaking the oxygen out instead of fondly pushing. 

You sat up when it was clear he was standing still, waiting for something. The room was dark, but light from the window made him decently visible to eyes that had been in darkness for hours. You saw his lips part, as though he was trying to speak, but he just couldn’t. 

The sheets were parting around you before you even registered you were moving, allowing your legs to straighten as you stood up. You moved over to his slouched form, all the accumulated rage from before dissolving into nothing but cold air. Was he hurt? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Woah, hey.” His neck was craned down, eyes drooping cruelly to the floor, like he couldn’t bear the sight of you. Your hands burned with the heat of his flushed face, tilting his head back up to eye level. “What happened?” 

The second he felt the heat of your fingers, the warmth of life, he collapsed into you, forcing you on to the wrinkled sheets of your shared bed. His arms wrapped around you like a ravenous snake readying the prey for consumption. His forehead met your shoulder, nearly crushing you with how close he pressed himself. His cheeks were wet, he’d been crying. 

That put the fear of God in you. Adrian Chase didn’t cry. 

“Saw you die over there.” You were surprised at how cohesive his speech was, although slurred and thick with bottomless horror. His arms gripped tighter, somehow. Like he was trying to tuck you inside his chest to stop the ending he’d seen. “I saw you in the street and some guy just…” 

You didn’t have words that could properly convey the hurt radiating off of him. You weren’t equipped to talk him off this particular ledge.

You put your hand on the back of his head, wrapping both your arms harder against him. Reassurance felt wrong, and comfort felt unreachable with how shaken he was. He could clearly tell you were still alive in the world that was his, but it seemed like he couldn’t digest it. Like your voice, and your smell, and your presence wasn’t enough to stop the fact from slipping through the cracks in his heart. 

“I’ve just been sleeping, Adrian. I’m okay.” 

You said it as softly as you could, not wanting to shatter the stillness of the air. He nodded against your chest, but he still shook like he was watching what happened play on loop. 

“I know.” 

You sunk your head down slightly, kissing the side of his head and further messing up his curls that had puffed from the exertion of his outing.

You felt his hands find home on your hips, pushing his fingertips into the pliable flesh in a very specific way. Something he only did when he was needy, when he was aching for the intimacy of being taken, of being seen. 

His name slid through your barely parted lips, a warning in the softest degree. He was mourning, barely holding himself together enough to tell you what happened. You didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want him to do this and then regret in the morning. 

“Please, I know. Just need to feel you.” 

You went to object, truly. Some vague declaration of his ill mind, his sleep deprivation, his grief. The start of it met his ears both irrefutable and insignificantly. It didn’t matter what you’d almost said, because the latter half died off at the first roll of his hips. The attire you rested in every night was made of thinner material than the clothes you wore during the day, making it that much easier for him to catch you at just the right angle. 

A heavenly groan fled from his lips, settling as a tiny vibration against the skin of your neck. Your hands were gripping him tight. Tighter than anything that could be covered by the guise of comfort. 

This was greed. Something mindless and insurmountable found only in the childish grinding, in the shameful moisture once again flowing from his glossy eyes.

“Fuck - just like that. Just need this.” His head stayed put against the crook of your collarbone, as though you could shield him from whatever sights were hidden behind his eyelids. “Don’t even wanna be inside you. Just need you close to me.”  

Sounds you’d never heard yourself make were pouring mercilessly out of you, not even encroaching the territory of the man above you. He was pitiful, exhaling whimpers so sharp and so wonderful that they could have sliced your skin on impact. It was a magical thing to hold him like this, to be someone so deep within him that this was the result of seeing someone with your face fall victim to circumstance. 

He was evidently hard now, and you swear the material of his suit was even rougher when felt through more layers. It’s solid and it’s perfect. The friction of his pumping hips burns you in a way you’d never anticipated, licking stripes of smooth fire up the length of your spine. 

“You’re too good for me. ‘m sorry I need you so much.”

You couldn’t think properly enough to interject, simply resorting to shaking your head in disagreement. The pressure of his evident bulge made you continuously clench around nothing, made your inhibition pour out of your ears like soap. You could feel evidence of your own arousal soaking through your underwear. You needed him just as bad, just as carnally.

“But I really fucking do. Couldn’t live without you. Wouldn’t want to.” 

He was so strung out that his sentences were bleeding into each other, wobbly and coarse. He was certain of only one thing - you. Your state wasn’t proving much better, head dizzy and fingers tight in his hair. The rhythm you’d managed to find with him was innate, as though your body knew what his was doing before it’d even been considered. It felt so fucking good that you didn’t know how to be with him, didn’t know how to be anything in that moment except whatever he chose to make you. 

“Couldn’t live without you either, Adrian.” 

If someone had heard an isolated recording of that response, they would most likely assume you were inebriated. Some type of alcohol or laughing gas making your words loopy. Devoted, even. Like someone who’d found the keys to the universe. 

And being there with him, it felt like you just might have. 

“Shit -” 

You could tell he tried to warn you, tried to tell you that he was done for. He didn’t manage to get the cautionary remark out of his mouth, breathing one of the prettiest noises you’d ever heard into your neck like he was sealing a secret into you. Branding you with the time he’d cracked open before you, with the time you’d held his fragments in place. 

Maybe in the other world you were gone. A speck of dust to be blown away amongst all the other extinguished life. But here, you were his. 

And he was yours. 

whimpers came out as he tried his best to talk “ mmm fuck baby p-please,” his nail dug into your hips as he helped you bounce on his cock faster. he didn’t want you to stop — oh no, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself if you stopped .. maybe he would cry or beg on his knees. honestly, he would do anything for you to keep going. “ oh yeah … don’t stop — i w-want you to make a mess of m-me ” oh he looked so pretty under you … tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at you -sucking on your fingers .. he so nasty but you like it. LINK 1

he fucks you sooo good that he’s moaning too. “ o-oh my good girl .. my good fucking girl ” his plan is to slut you out doesn’t matter if it’s in the bed, living room, kitchen, or even the car. he wants you a moaning mess which slowly turns him into a moaning mess as well. “ yeahhh th-there you go .. mm you’re daddy’s good girl, taking my c-cock so fucking well ” It’s like a race ‘ who can tap out first ’ by the way he’s moans you would think it’s him with his heavy breathing but little do you know that this is just the beginning.. LINK 2

sensitive, dom, and a moaning mess … he is a three-in-one! gosh, you love it — the way he sharply breathes in when he strokes his cock into you, the way he moans in between words, and the way he talks dirty to you excites you. “ mm s-say it .. u-use your words, baby ” makes you wanna cum right then and there. he loves hearing you talk, even if it’s just babbling, it makes him smile, but not like you would know cause his face is pressed against your neck due to him leaving deep bite marks. LINK 3

( BOUNS )

You sat on your fire escape, your phone held up to your ear in one hand while the other rolled the filter of the cigarette you were smoking between your fingers. You put the extinguished cigarette in the ashtray you had seated on the windowsill next to you and begin to reach for the pack for another, just to realize it’s empty. You curse to yourself, then climb through the window back into your apartment.

A smile creeps onto Dex’s face watching you grab a hoodie off your bedpost before jumping into a pair of sweatpants. You leave your apartment, and Dex loses sight of you momentarily.

In this time, Dex exits his own commandeered unit, but stays to the shadows once he’s out on the street, keeping out of your eyesight as you leave your building.

Dex waits until you enter the deli on the corner before he crosses the street and hoists himself up onto your fire escape with a practiced ease.

He finds the window to your apartment left wide open and climbs through it himself. Dex looks around your bedroom, seeing the familiar grey sheets hazardously thrown across the bed from when you overslept this morning, leaving it unmade. Carefully making his way around your room, he stops at your vanity, examining the new pictures you have stuck to the mirror alongside the old ones Dex has already seen before.

As he reaches for the closet doors, he stops in his tracks when a piece of blue fabric lying on the floor catches his eye. He bunches the soft lace-lined cotton material between his fingers as he brings it to his nose, deeply inhaling your scent. Dex clenches his jaw and balls up his fists even tighter, feeling the primal urges stirring deep within him.

He hears your voice from the other side of the front door, still talking on the phone as you shove your key into the lock. Dex stuffs your panties into his pocket before he leaves the same way he came in.

Thursday

Dex has been staring into the dark window of your apartment for an hour now.

With a few errands of his own to run earlier, Dex couldn’t follow you to work or even drop by your office building to watch you have lunch at your desk today. But having your work schedule memorized, he knows you should be home by now.

Your bedroom window was wide open yet again, and it beckoned Dex across the street like a siren’s song.

He ignores every rational thought that screams at him not to as he crosses the short distance from his side of the street to yours.

Climbing through your window, Dex’s eyes quickly adjust to the darkness of the room, looking around to see no one in sight. He instead finds a trail of clothes leading out of the room like breadcrumbs down the hallway, where he sees a sliver of light peaking through the bathroom door.

You are home.

Instead of turning around like he told himself he should’ve, Dex continues to follow the sound of the shower running, carefully making his way down the hall. Right outside the bathroom lies another pair of discarded panties. It’s nearly instinctual now for him to bend down and pick them up to add to his growing collection in his bedside drawer back at his apartment.

With the bathroom door left slightly ajar, Dex nudges it gently, further opening it for him to look inside.

You were obstructed behind the glass from the condensation clinging to the shower door, but he’s still able to make out the suds of soap cascading down your body as you bathe yourself. Standing under the stream of warm water, he can visibly see the tension dissipating from your shoulders. Your body wash clings to the humidity of the small space, enticing Dex further into the bathroom. His hands itch to touch you, wishing they were running all over you instead of your own.

Dex nearly reaches for the shower door handle when he hears the sound of your phone ringing from your bedroom, breaking him out of his trance.

He retreats back to your room to find your phone charging on your dresser, lit up with a call from your father. You must be speaking to him again. Dex watches the call go to voicemail before he picks up your phone and unlocks it. He smiles to himself. Of course, your passcode remains the same even after all this time.

After looking through your messages and finding nothing exciting among the threads with your coworkers, Dex swipes open your camera roll to see the recent food you’ve been eating, the bars you’ve been frequenting, and the friends you’ve been hanging out with.

“You could’ve used the door, you know.”

Too distracted catching himself up on your life, Dex didn’t hear the shower shut off. Nor did he hear your footsteps enter the room.

“You know where I usually leave the key,” you say.

This was an issue Dex kept having with you—he let his guard down.

Dex looks to see you illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window. You’re only clad in a towel with your arms crossed over your chest, looking at him like he were a child caught with his hand in the candy jar. He feels the blood draining from his face and remains frozen in the shadows.

“I should go,” is all he says as he begins to back away toward the window.

“Why even come at all then?” You stop him before he can leave again.

A beat of silence passes before Dex admits, “I needed to.”

You reach over to flip on the light switch.

“Don’t.” Dex switches the lamp off before you could get a good look at his face. But you ignore his warning and turn the light back on.

Dex can’t tear his eyes away from yours as you approach, worried about what they might tell him once you see him up close. But all they hold is sorrow; the sight of the fully healed scar across his cheek breaks your heart all over again.

“Oh, Ben.” You caress his face gently, and he immediately leans into your touch.

Dex caves in, pulling you into his arms and locking you into a tight hug like someone would come and rip you away from him. “I needed to see you,” he mumbles into your hair.

“Seems like you’ve been seeing me just fine,” you say, nodding toward the open window that faces his apartment.

He opens his mouth to question how you could’ve known, but you beat him to it.

“After hearing about an inmate escaping from Riker’s merely hours before an attempt is made on the mayor’s life by a sniper, it was pretty easy to figure out whose prying eyes have been watching from across the street.” You know him all too well—it kinda scares him. “I missed you, too,” you peck his lips.

One kiss was all it took for his entire resolve to break.

Dex flattens his hands against your spine to pull you in for a kiss again. Your lips meet in a hungry, needy clash of tongues, making your knees nearly buckle.

You only pull away when you feel your towel loosen around your body, threatening to unravel.

“Wanna let me get some clothes on?” you ask between giggles, attempting to pull away from Dex as you readjust.

“Why would I wanna do that?” he barely budges, firmly keeping you flush against his chest.

“I’m still very much naked under this.” you raise a brow.

“And you’re still wearing too much if you ask me,” he lowers his head to your neck, letting the faint scent of shea butter lingering on your skin flood his senses. But then Dex feels the uneven skitter of your pulse when he softly presses his lips to your jugular.

“What is it?” Dex asks, searching for an answer in your eyes. He can read you as well as his favorite book; there’s not much you could hide from him if you really tried.

“A lot can change in a year,” is all you say.

He certainly did.

Dex was fit before, but he’s practically doubled in size since. The thin material of his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves contouring his bulging biceps, while his sweatpants hang low on his hips, hugging his deliciously thick thighs.

“I can see,” Dex grins, sliding his hand down to your lower back, “You somehow got more beautiful,” he tells you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

You involuntarily roll your eyes, “you’re just saying that,” you mutter.

“Oh am I now?” Dex’s brows stitch together incredulously, “I kinda find that hard to believe when that new coworker of yours tries to find every excuse under the sun just to come and talk to you. He spends more time leaning in the doorway of your office than he does at his own desk.”

You laugh. How long has he been watching?

“Brian’s just a friend.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve seen how he looks at you. I mean, he was practically drooling when you came in yesterday wearing that baby blue dress.” It’s not like Dex could forget, even if he wanted to—it took everything in him not to put a bullet between Brian’s eyes as he walked to his car after clocking out.

“A lot can change in a year but what I feel about you hasn’t.” Dex says, “Unless it’s how you feel about me that’s changed,” you can visibly see the worry weighing on his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t have left the window open for you all these nights if it had,” you smile.

Dex kisses you again, but this time softer—slower. He gently cups your face, deepening the kiss as you crane your neck. Dex runs his tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the minty mouthwash you had rinsed with before you found him in your room.

Your hands travel up his chest, and it intimidates you a bit, feeling the difference in his size from the last time you saw him—felt him. Dex lowers himself to grab the back of your thighs and hoists you off the ground in one swift motion. You gasp into his mouth, feeling your feet leave the ground, and grab onto Dex’s shoulders. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you grab his face eagerly accepting.

Dex takes his time walking over to your bed like he wanted you to savor every moment just as he was.

He sits down at the edge of your bed with you straddling his lap without breaking the kiss. You only part from his lips to catch your breath. Dex chases after your lips, desperate for more, forgetting he needed to breathe himself. He opens his eyes to find you looking at him.

You run a hand through his hair, slightly tugging his head back. Dex’s low-lidded lashes flutter as he grips the soft plush on your thighs, trying to fight those primal urges yet again. He’s waited this long to have you in his arms again; he didn’t want to rush this moment with you.

“My beautiful, beautiful angel,” Dex mutters as he drags you by your thighs higher up on his lap, seating you right on top of the bulge tenting his pants.

He begins littering kisses across your chest, and you arch into his touch.

“Dex,” you sigh, carding your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah?” he lowly draws out.

“Touch me.”

“I am,” he laughs.

“Don’t be such fucking tease. Not now, been too long,” the second half of that sentence came out as a whine.

Dex slides his hand under your towel, carefully dragging his hand across the skin of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.

“Like this you mean?” he spreads your folds, softly petting your clit.

Dex slips two of his fingers inside of you, musing as he watches your face contort with pleasure. He languidly curled his fingers inside of you, moving at a slow come-hither motion as your hips begin to rock against his hand.

He croons, feeling your warm, wet walls open up for him. Dex keeps his eyes locked on you as you desperately grind against his hands, wishing he’d move his fingers. But Dex knows that’d be too easy. He knows your body too well; he could definitely make you cum with his hands tied behind his back.

“That’s it, pretty girl, get yourself off for me.” his arm flexes with each gentle stroke of his digits against your gummy walls.

“Dex, please,” You desperately whine as he pulls his fingers away just enough to stay gloved by your pussy but just missing that sweet spot inside of you.

He finally gave in to your pleas and sank his fingers the rest of the way until his middle and ring fingers were knuckle deep inside of you.

You buried your head into Dex’s shoulder as you gush onto his hand. Dex slowly pumps his fingers, hitting that soft spongy spot inside of you every time. You grab onto his arm, gently digging your nails into his skin as you feel yourself get closer to coming.

He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tight, calculated circles, and you cling to Dex’s shoulders tighter. He flips you onto the bed, lying you down while keeping his fingers buried inside of you.

His eyes stay trained on your face as he hovers over you.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Dex whispers in your ear, “Wanna feel your pretty pussy cum for me.” You feel him smile against your skin as your hips rise from the bed, chasing after that high. Your back arches and your thighs tremble. Your walls spasm around Dex’s fingers as they ferociously fuck you through your orgasm. The harmony of your whiny moans and obscene, slick squelching from between your legs filled Dex’s ears euphoniously. He basks in your beautiful sounds.

Your fingers wrapping around his wrist gets Dex to slow down before he slips his wet fingers out of your heat. Dex examines his glistening fingers as they catch the moonlight, coated with your arousal, before bringing them to his mouth and licking your juices clean off his hand.

“God, I’ve missed the taste of you,” he says before lowering his head to your neck, softly licking and nipping your skin between his teeth. Dex presses open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as he inches a hand up your thigh, pushing your towel open further. His hand continues the rest of the way up your body, until the rest of the towel unravels.

Dex sits back on his haunches, taking in your bare figure laid out before him like a gift he just unwrapped, and runs a hand through his hair.

As Dex’s eyes slowly drink you in, you were suddenly hyper aware of how exposed you feel while he was still fully clothed. You attempt to re-cover yourself, but Dex stops you by pinning your arms to the mattress beside your head.

“Oh, darling, don’t go trying to hide from me now,” he darkly smiles. Dex begins to make his way down your body, alternating between soft kisses and love bites.

He releases your arms to let his hands roam all over you, groping and kneading every part of your body. His calloused hands cupped your breasts, humming in delight as he welcomed the weight of them in his hands.

Dex buries his face between the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking your skin to leave red splotches that would blossom into purple bruises. Dex was careful of where he placed them, making sure you’d just barely be able to hide them; only visible to those staring hard at your cleavage—like a certain coworker of yours.

He rolls his thumbs over your pearled nipples, tweaking them between his deft fingers. You yelp, nearly grinding your hips against his clothed thigh.

Dex settles between your legs, shouldering them wider apart to make room for his broad frame. He kisses each of your thighs, directing them over his shoulders. Without hesitation, he laps at your folds, tasting the remnants of your previous orgasm. Dex hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to his face, burying his head deeper into your pussy. Your legs threaten to close around his head, the skin of your inner thighs scratching the stubble on his cheeks. But Dex’s arms barely budged, keeping you right where he wanted you.

Dex closed his eyes, losing himself in the taste of you on his tongue, gushing into his mouth like a never-ending fountain.

You could feel the growing wetness sticking to your thighs as Dex’s drool mixes with your slick, making a mess of the sheets below you. Dex brings his free hand between your legs, spreading your lips to tongue your labia.

His tongue weasels inside of you, and his nose bumps your clit, making you buck your hips against his mouth. Dex flattens one of his arms across your stomach, pinning you back to the bed. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, not because you wanted him to let go but to get him to exert more of his strength. You mewl, your head spinning as he keeps you locked in this position.

“Fuck, baby—you’re gonna make me cum again,” you moan. Your fingers comb through his hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp as you grip onto his dirty blonde locks.

Dex growls back in response, hungrily sucking on your clit. His tongue worked relentlessly, languidly swirling the bundle of nerves in his mouth. You cried out Dex’s name and roughly pulled on his hair, making him groan into your mound. The vibrations from his mouth send jolts of electricity up your spine, and your toes curl.

Your upper body flailed and jerked as your lower half was kept pressed against the mattress. Dex lapped up your cum, gladly drinking down your release until he felt the tense quiver of your thighs around his ears.

Dex sits up, and you look at him through your lashes, the lower half of his face wet with your juices. You watch as he licks his lips and wipes his mouth of your essence before he grabs the back of his shirt and tears it off over his head.

Your eyes run down the expanse of his chest to his defined abdomen, flexing with every slow breath he takes. You watch the muscles in his arms ripple under his skin as he begins to push his sweatpants down his hips.

Fuck me.

Dex looks up at you and laughs, “I’m getting there, sweetheart. Mind a little patience?”

Fuck, you said that out loud. No backing down now.

You slide off the bed and stand in front of him, “I’ve been patient enough, Poindexter, don’t you think?” You grab the waistband of his boxers and pull him close.

Dex brings his lips to yours, and your hands push his boxers down his thighs, freeing his dick from its confines. You take him into your hand, making him moan into your mouth. You run your thumb over the leaky slit, smearing his precum over his shaft. You twist and jerk your wrist as Dex throws his head back, giving you access to his neck. You lick a stripe up the side of his throat before tugging his earlobe between your teeth. You softly litter kisses across his neck before you return the favor and suck a bruise above his Adam’s apple.

“Fuck,” Dex sighs as he rocks his hips into your hand. He picks you up once again, guiding your legs around his waist. “I need to be inside of you,” Dex mutters against your neck, “need to feel you,” he says as he climbs onto your bed with you still clinging onto him like a sloth hanging on a tree branch. Dex sits with you in his lap, resting his cock between your wet folds. You reach between your bodies to take his cock into your hand again, rising out of his lap to guide his tip to your sopping core.

You bite your bottom lip as you feel the blunt head of his cock pushing into you. Dex roughly grunts, taking hold of your hips in both hands, trying to keep himself from slamming you down onto his lap in one go.

“Attagirl,” Dex deeply sighs, “just take it easy,” he soothingly rubs your back. His eyes fall to where your bodies connect, watching the way your pussy slowly sucks his cock the rest of the way in.

Your eyes screw shut as you drop your forehead to rest against his, feeling him fully sheathed inside of your warm cunt.

Dex wraps his arm around you, wanting to feel impossibly close to you. But even balls deep inside of you wasn’t enough for him—he wanted more. More of you.

“Holy shit, you fit around me just so perfectly,” his voice reverberates in your ear, “It’s like you were made for me.”

You hum in agreement, moving your legs from beneath you to flatten your feet on the bed and grab onto his neck.

“Just for you,” you tell him as you roll your hips.

Dex drops his hand to your lower back, letting you set the pace. You lean back, resting a hand on his thigh behind you to steady yourself as you rock your hips.

“That’s it, angel, take what you need," he rasps. "I'm all yours to use," he tells you. You moan at his words, throwing your head back with a lustful smile. You bring your lips back to Dex’s, and he swallows your sensual whimpers and cries.

You push him back onto the mattress, and his hands on your waist move south to cup your ass as Dex angles his hips up into yours. The tip of his cock easily finds your sweet spot, and you cling onto him once more. You let Dex take control, thrusting up into you at a faster—more desperate rhythm.

“Oh god, Ben, please,” you pant.

A deep growl rumbles in his chest. He slides his hands up your back, locking you into a bear hug as his thighs flex beneath you with every thrust of his hips. Your breathy whines and broken moans fill Dex’s ears while his cock repeatedly bullies your g-spot.

A smile spreads across Dex’s face as he watches you completely lose yourself on his cock. He pushes you back onto the bed, never slipping out of you as he fucks you into the mattress. He hooks an arm beneath your hips, spearing into you while using his other hand to press his thumb to your clit.

“God, you’re so wet. I can feel how close you are from the way you’re soaking me,” he says, reveling in the way your pussy pulses around him.

“M’so close…fill me up so good—feels so fucking good,” you slur.

A guttural moan rips from your throat, and your hips desperately buck into Dex’s. Your walls clamp around him as you cum. Dex nearly cums himself and quickly pulls out of you, making you whine from the sudden loss of contact.

He doesn’t leave you untouched for long, however, with his hand finding its way between your thighs once again, slipping his fingers back inside of you. You shoot upright and grab onto Dex’s arm, closing your legs around his hand.

“Dex, it’s too much please. I can’t-” tears pricked your eyes, feeling overstimulated.

“Oh but I know you can, darling. Need you to stay wet and ready for me.” Dex says like it takes much for you when it comes to him anyway.

Dex stands before you can process the emptiness his hand leaves you with. He wraps an arm around your middle, manhandling you onto your knees at the edge of the bed. Your head spins from having him toss you around like a ragdoll.

Dex brings his cock back to your slit, gently tapping your clit with his cockhead, and you fall back against his chest. Dex pushes inside of you, enrapturing you once again. He grunts deeply, letting his breath fan over your shoulder, feeling the way your warm, wet walls open up just for him. His lips press languid kisses up the back of your neck as he holds you there, not moving—just leaving his cock buried deep inside of you. You try to move your hips with his tip curving deliciously into your sweet spot, but Dex tightens his hold on you, restricting your movements.

“Just look at yourself,” he gently grabbed your face and directed your eyes to the mirror across from your bed by the window. The same mirror Dex would watch you stand in front of for half an hour, contemplating your outfits. Looking at your reflection, your lower stomach pools with arousal, seeing the scene before you. Dex slowly draws his hips back, just barely leaving his tip inside of you before filling you up again, making you shudder. “My precious angel, so needy, all fucked out. All just for me,” he says lowly in your ear.

Dex hugs your shoulders, and you feel his bicep nearly close around your neck every time his arm flexes as he thrusts into you. You weren’t worried he’d hurt you, though he was fully capable of doing so in this position. Your hands rest on his forearm, but you don’t stop him, and just roll your head back onto his shoulder.

“I’m so close, baby, please don’t stop,” you reach behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair, “Wanna cum again—wanna cum with you.”

His eyes were glued to your reflection in the mirror, intensely watching you as you fall apart. Dex’s arm around your waist pulls you back onto his cock, hitting that sweet spot inside you with such precision every time he bottoms out.

“Need me to fill you up?” he asks, and you slowly nod. “Gonna stuff you so full of my cum you’re gonna be dripping for days afterwards. Brian won’t have a doubt in his mind who you belong to then,” your velvety walls flutter around Dex, and he laughs. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh? What a fucking tease you are.”

Dex’s hand reaches down to your puffy clit, pinching the sensitive bud between his fingers. Your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train, and you see stars. Dex continues to pump his cock into you, his hips stuttering as he feels the damn begin to break inside of him. Dex sharply pounded into you, the skin of your ass roughly slapping against his lower stomach.

If Dex still wasn’t holding you, you would’ve fallen forward face first onto the mattress, your legs unable to hold you up as you cum for the fourth time tonight. Warm ropes of Dex’s cum coat your inner walls in white. You quietly chanted his name, your mind growing hazy, only able to think of the man wrapped around you. Dex leaves kisses on your shoulder as his dick begins to soften, and he slowly eases out of you.

Dex hooks an arm beneath your thighs, effortlessly scooping you up bridal style. You settle in his arms, circling your own around his neck as you kiss him.

“Ben-”

He interrupts you because he doesn’t need to hear you say it. “I know,” and he passionately kisses you.

Not wanting to let you go, Dex carries you out of your bedroom to the bathroom. He sits you on the bathroom counter, starting up the shower before opening the door to step inside. He holds his hand out for you, which you quickly accept, allowing him to pull you into the shower with him.

After your second shower of the night, you were finally able to dress yourself in one of Dex’s old Quantico shirts and now lay with your head on his chest.

The sounds of the city coming in through the window were drowned out by the sounds of Dex’s heartbeat in your ears. You feel him trace spiraling shapes on your skin with the tip of his fingers.

He breaks the comfortable silence to ask, “When did you start smoking again?”

“Few weeks after you were indicted. It’s a good distraction,” you answer, gently stroking the blonde hairs on his chest.

“It’s not good for you,” Dex says, but you can hear the hint of amusement in his tone.

You lift your head to look at him, “When has that stopped me?”