Getting Dex to sit on your lap, his full weight straddling your thighs as you two make out. One of your hands squeezing his thigh while the other grabs his ass, coaxing small whimpers into your swollen, wet lips. Barely letting go of each other's mouths to breath. His pupils swallowing the hazel of his eyes indicated how much he was affected by you.
you ever just think about how netflix daredevil genuinely gave it's protagonist TWO (2) on screen suicide attempts that weren't ambiguous at all and were actually pointed out as such in the narrative? like we're not talking "self destructive behavior that could interpreted as passive suicidality" here like the show straight up said "hey this guy, our hero, tried to kill himself several times and one time wasn't even for some heroic greater good sacrifice but because of his rapidly declining mental health and practically non-existent self worth" without tip-toeing around it or softening the blow. because i think about that a lot. like no judgement but i don't think modern marvel could ever
Summary: Dex is again keeping an eye on you, his favourite pastime, when he likes what he sees and somehow finds his way to your apartment.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NSFW, explicit, stalking, obsessive behaviour, SMUT, porn without plot, mentions of oral sex (m receiving), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, somewhat dom/assertive Dex, dubcon
Dex was back at his usual nightly post, on the building opposite yours. You broke your routine again by impulsively going for a walk and window shopping on 5th Avenue, and it was driving him crazy. Or perhaps, it was driving him closer to you. He had been obsessing over you for weeks now, peeking into your windows, learning your routines, trying to make sense of your chaotic life. Every time he considered stopping, he’d catch a glimpse of your smile, and suddenly, Dex wanted nothing more than to be next to you. Sometimes, it seemed to Dex, you would even smile at him, nonchalantly from the other side of the office or when you delivered requested papers.
Sometimes, Dex would even allow his thoughts to drift and form into a fantasy, an intimate web of physical and emotional closeness, where you’d depend on him, completely, fully, maddenly.
He took a deep breath, the sun setting over the NYC sky, his cock painfully throbbing in his pants. Dex felt guilty about it, but not so guilty as to deprive himself of what was at first only an occasional shower self-pleasuring, but was slowly worming its way into his painstaking evening routine.
Trying to find you through his scope, he checked the kitchen window first; no luck. He immediately moved on to a living room window, expecting you to lounge on the dinky old couch, watching a game of whatever sport was on at the moment. He smirked when he realised your blinds were open a little more, and you were standing in the window in your panties and a cropped shirt a couple of sizes too big.
Dex smiled cockily to himself, because at least there was one routine of yours he could always count on: you double-checking your doors and windows before relaxing in the evening. He pointed his rifle just a little lower, taking in how your panties hugged your hips, and a little lower even more, staring at the wet spot on your panties and how they were clinging to you. His breath hitched; will you unknowingly give him another show tonight?
Dex tried to adjust his jeans, but even the slightest touch had the opposite effect, a burning, throbbing desire to force his way into your apartment and fuck you so hard and long until he’d be the only thing existing in your mind; Dex closed his eyes.
“Wrong, wrong, wrong!” he whispered to himself, self-hatred instantly awakening in him - he couldn’t, he wouldn’t ever hurt you.
But maybe… If he ever had the gall to talk to you back when you were working at his field office, maybe instead of him keeping an eye on you from afar, you’d be on your knees in front of him, your tongue all over his cock, begging for him to fuck your mouth.
Dex focused back on you, his scope still fixed on your body. What surprised him was that you were still standing there. He slowly raised his scope to focus on your face, and his breath immediately hitched, but he felt paralysed watching. You were staring back at him, holding your little birding monocular, smiling deviously. Stalking the stalker.
Dex could barely breathe, not to mention think. His mind was screaming, but he still couldn’t take his eyes off you. He was on the edge of a panic attack, but something about your face, your smile, was still holding him at bay. It was so calming, so inviting… No, Dex told himself, no, no, no. This will only end up badly, him humiliated and you laughing at him.
Still sweating, Dex had no memory of how he ended up at your door, or how a mere moment later, he was standing in your apartment, his back to your entry door, putting down his heavy weapons bag, your hands resting around his neck. You were still a little apprehensive about leaning into him or kissing him, but Dex had no such reservations anymore; his hands found a way to your hips, wasting no time pressing your body into his, hard, breathing your name like a madman.
His mouth crashed into yours like he was trying to devour you; the kiss wasn’t gentle at all, all teeth and saliva and tongue, and you couldn’t get enough, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your body into his. Your hands roamed all over his body, feverishly pulling his shirt off him, exploring his warm body, his scars and bruises. Dex whimpered into your mouth, a desperate sound that turned you on even more.
You wanted this so bad, even from before you realized Dex was stalking you and although you knew you were supposed to be wary of him, scared, maybe even petrified, every time you’d catch that unmistakable scope reflection on the neighbouring building, you couldn’t help yourself but fantasise how Dex would act, would he be taking it slowly or would he bend you over and use your body for his gratifaction. Well, you knew which one you hoped for…
Almost like he read your mind, Dex pushed his hand into your panties. You gasped, his tongue still swirling yours, a couple of strands of his hair falling down his forehead, tickling you slightly.
“Are you wet for me?” he whispered in your ear, holding your throat with the other hand. “You better be wet for me,” Dex continued, not allowing you time to reply. There was such intensity in his eyes, such need, such want, and you couldn’t get enough of it all, Dex touching you as a man possessed, like this was his first and last time touching a woman, him breathing you in, trying to pull you into himself.
“Yes,” you whined after he tightened his grasp slightly, and you still desperately tried to get more friction against his teasing fingers. God, he smelled so good. The hand around your neck slipped lower, to one of your tits, and you moaned some more as he played and sucked on your nipple, your hand frantically looking to free his cock.
“Fuck me, please,” you whined, “Please fuck me, Dex.”
You could feel his cocky grin against your lips.
“Like this?” he asked, forcing two fingers into your warm pussy. It was a stretch, a welcome one, and although he didn’t do anything spectacular with his fingers, you could feel yourself getting wetter.
Finally, you unzipped his pants and managed to somehow pull them down a little, freeing his already leaking cock. You took a second to take it in, hard, glistening with precum, and much thicker and lengthier than you imagined.
“Dex, please,” you begged again, “I need you.”
You looked at him with those big puppy eyes, your thumb playing with his tip, stroking him just a bit, while simultaneously trying to fuck yourself on his fingers.
“Oh, you need me?” he growled, looking like a madman, tossing you on that same couch he watched you only days before masturbating.
He undressed completely before joining you, continuing to kiss you, this time biting your lip and drawing blood. He smiled as you’ve never seen him smile before, possessive, aggressive, lustful.
“Beg,” he whispered, grinding his cock over your panties-clad folds, spreading his precum over your already sensitive clit; the heat in your lower body was seriously interfering with your ability to think.
“Dex, please fuck me, I’m begging you,” you obliged, trying to rub your clit yourself, but Dex immediately grabbed your hand and placed it over your head, squeezing hard. You knew it was going to leave a mark, a thought that excited you so much that your pussy desperately squeezed over nothing.
“A-a,” he teased, “I’m in charge here. Now tell me, princess, who do you belong to?”
“You, Dex, you, only you,” you were so turned on and so desperate, never wanting any man as much as you craved Dex now. “Please, Dex, I’m yours, I’ll do anything you want.”
He laughed, actually laughed, and quickly ripped off both your tee and your panties. When you startled in surprise, he simply pinned you back down and licked the couple of droplets of sweat off your neck.
“I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name,” he growled again, and before you could answer, he sheated himself deep inside your cunt, bottoming out on the first push. The stretch hurt a little, and a pained moan escaped your lips, which Dex dutifully swallowed.
“You feel so good, so, so good,” you heard him moan between your whimpers. He felt good inside you as well, bigger than you ever had before, but very pleasurably so. It also felt so good to be under him, for Dex taking control of your pleasure, begging him for your own release.
When he started to move, nibbing on your lower jaw and neck, holding your wrists in one of his huge hands and grabbing on your waist with another, you couldn’t help yourself anymore; the first scream of pleasure escaped your lips, and Dex upped his pace, delighted.
When you wrapped your legs around him, Dex started blabbing about how pussy was made for him, how you were made for him.
“From this moment on,” his breathy voice was hot in your ear, “You are mine and only mine.” Then he adjusted just a little, but this new angle, he started to hit just that one exact spot, that one mythical spot that you heard of but never ever experienced pleasure from.
“You belong to me now, “ he continued, pounding into you, drawing obscene and loud sounds both from your mouth and your pussy.
“Dex, baby, don’t stop,” your hands tangled in his messy hair, your pussy starting to squeeze his throbbing cock even more. A silent fuck escaped his lips, but he managed to control himself for a little longer.
“Why, princess? Why shouldn’t I stop?” he teased, but his movements were slowly becoming erratic.
“I’ve never came like this before,” you mumbled, your face flushing in the embarrassing confession.
“You’ve never, fuck?” Dex sounded truly surprised, “You’ve never been fucked like this, princess? I find that hard to believe.” He continued fucking you, still at a heavy pace, enjoying the occasional twitching of your pussy.
“No, never,” you whispered, your eyes watering a little in the anticipation of the best orgasm you are going to experience. “Dex baby, please, let me come, I’m begging you.”
Your cries were tipping him over the edge, but Dex knew he could last just long enough to give you that body-shattering orgasm you were so prettily begging for.
“You’re so pretty, princess, and so perfect, tight, mine, mine, mine. I’ll fuck you like this every day, you little cock-hungry slut,” he was smiling, and although he wasn’t sure if he went too far, he couldn’t stop himself. You were his now, finally, completely, madly, and he wanted to savour this moment in his insecure mind for as long as he could.
You, on the other hand, loved hearing him talk so filthy, so much so that it tipped you over and you came with a silent scream, feeling your high all through your body, as Dex tried to fuck you through it but ultimately failed and came deep into you, grunting and squeezing your hips.
After he got off you, he immediately slid between your thighs, smearing his cum all over your clit and licking a long strip over your pussy. When you tried to protest, exhausted still from the orgasm he just gave you, he flashed that cocky grin of his again.
“You need to give me at least one more, princess,” he whispered into your pussy, winking at you.
If you like my writing, all interactions are greatly appreciated♡̶
Someone pls sedate me. May I request Matt and Frank with a reader who bites them
Ohhhhhhh they’d be INTO this I fear. Thoughts below the cut! (I hope it’s ok I went a smutty direction with this. If you want something more fluffy I will happily write that too, just let me know!)
It’s widely known that Matt is a masochist, but Frank is too! And we all need to talk about that more. It would be good for society.
Anyways,
Whether it’s a sensory thing or a kink thing, the men might be surprised when you ask them but I think they’d READILY agree.
Matt is so turned on by the desperation lacing the edges of your question that he hands you a limb, cockily demanding that you “do your worst” while he thrusts into you.
I think Matt would looooove receiving hickeys. As much as he wants to mark his “territory”, his partner being possessive over him would be a HUGE turn on.
He’d run his fingers over the marks you left behind, working himself up allllll over again.
Frank on the other hand would be a bit more confused by your need to bite him, not that he’d object to anything you wanted from him. It wasn’t exactly going to cause lasting harm.
He’d let you gnaw away at him, grinning smugly when he could feel you moan against his skin “attagirl. Let it all out for me.”
Over time, you two would find a great rhythm. He would absolutely be working your need to bite into foreplay, exposing his shoulders/neck/whatever to you and raising an eyebrow. “Go on, doll. Know you wanna.”
This is all I have for now! Let me know if you want more!!
