I would like to think yandere fairy would have a slightly similar vibe to Silas since elves are kinda like a sub-spicies that evolved from fairies but would also be fundementally different.
Like elves are more detached from fairies thus require spells and grimoires to actually use magic, meanwhile fairies are naturally magic and can cast it as easily as breathing.
I'd also like to think fairies would be more likely to commit evil without fully grasping the situation. Elves are more rational and stoic, they usually have no interest in others and only care about their studies.
But fairies would carry a lot of strong emotions in their tiny bodies. They'd express their love more freely, they'd get angry or sad easily, they'd have a lot more energy to them.
If a fairy falls in love with you he'd try to appeal to you by gifting you flowers and fruits, and at first you'd think that he's oh so adorable. He'd hide in your hair, give a shy little kiss to your cheek, hug your finger with his tiny body begging you not to go.
Alas a fairy's love is very deep, obviously he'd go above and beyond for his soulmate. If the fairy sees someone being mean to you or putting you in a difficult situation he'd do everything in his power to help you. That's why the next time you go to visit your little fairy friend you'd find that person who has been making your life difficult completely absorbed into a tree.
They are still alive but they are silent and unmoving. Nature has taken a hold of them and as they are now one with the tree you can no longer separate them.
The fairy would be so excited showing it to you, flying around you like a pretty butterfly and pulling at your clothes, urging you to take a closer look at his gift. Are you happy? Do you like him even more now? Why do you seem upset...? Didn't he do something good for you?
He doesn't really get it. His little magical mind doesn't get the moral compass of humans, but that's okay. It's not that important. You two can just have some sweets and forget all about it. It wasn't that important anyway.
Ignore the rumors about having fairy food making you unable to leave the forest. He worked so hard to make something delicious for you with his tiny body. Look at how much he loves you.
Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x F!Reader
WC: 7.4k
Summary: Pt.3 to midnight stranger
Pt.2 Pt.4
Warnings: 18+ STALKING, panty stealing, perhaps...(used) panty fetish, PERVERT!Dex, Dark!Dex, jealousy trope, i need to say this: Reader is also a Freak, definitely just as crazy as Dex, explicit sexual themes, this is filthy, this is kinda got some plot building in it, public sex, fingering
Your face burns.
Matt isn't stupid. He may be blind, but you're sure with his super hearing and freaky "all knowing-ness" he can tell what happened not even five minutes ago. The kiss Dex planted on your lips was loud on purpose. You're tense, wanting to shove him off of you, but with the way his fingers dig into your shoulder, the way his arm tenses around you, you know just how glued you are to him.
You watch Matt go eerily still. You feel like you've confessed your dirty darkest secret to your pastor. Outside the confessional. In broad daylight. With an audience. Maybe your parents in the crowd. How about the public humiliation of being naked too? That's what you think it would feel like, feeling the way you do right now. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole, you would thank it.
Matt sneers and launches himself to Dex. Dex thoughtfully shoves you aside, to save you from the sudden violence, making you stumble harshly away from the pair. A fist comes flying into Dex's face, splitting his bottom lip. Matt's grip squeezes around Dex's throat, and you gasp, noticing he has the audacity to be smiling at him. You would place a high bet that if he could actually breathe, he'd be laughing.
"You son of a bitch-" Matt growls at him, his fingers going white with how strongly he's choking him out.
"Matt!" you gasp out, seeing how Dex's face goes red from the lack of oxygen. The bloody smile plastered on his face has barely faltered, though.
Matt twitches when he hears you say his name. His grip loosens. Dex takes that opportunity, the distraction working in his favor as he brings a hand harshly down to Matt's arms, breaking the hold completely. They look ready to launch themselves at each other until you're interrupting again.
"Stop! Both of you!" You shout, a bit breathless from the adrenaline and testosterone bouncing around in the air.
Dex seems to listen to you more than Matt is. His gaze flicks to you, his tongue dipping out to gather some of the blood on his lip, smiling darkly at you. Despite yourself, your sore core clenches, and you remember just how sticky you are. They're fighting and you're all marked up with him. And he's obviously ecstatic. Matt lets out a furious breath out of his nose, still coiled up and ready to strike.
You move closer, placing a shaking hand on the small of Matt's back. You watch Dex's nostrils flare with rage but he doesn't move from his spot.
"Matt," you start again, "I...I can explain." Your voice wavers. Christ, how were going to explain that you just slept with this man you hardly knew?
"I don't think you have to," Matt drawls out, his voice grated through the barely contained rage, "Poindexter obviously took advantage of you." You can feel tense muscles under your hand quiver in his back.
Dex makes an amused noise in the back of his throat, the corners of his bloody lips tilting up.
"Uh..." You clear your throat. Fuck this was way harder than you thought it'd be. You definitely were a willing participant...even with how you were scared of him at first. But you think that just comes with him. He's so unnerving. He's lethal. "No. No, he didn't. I just, uhm, well you see-"
"We just played house, is all, Matt. She was so lonely, waiting for you all night-" Dex starts, something dangerous in the way he shifts back, adjusting his posture like he's just waiting for Daredevil to hit him.
"Dex." You hiss out, understanding now that whatever it was between the two, it was not friendship.
Again, it seems he listens to you. He doesn't continue with poking the bear, though his gaze goes pointedly down to the hand you still have on Matt's back. You seem to understand what he's asking. You remove your hand and take the tiniest step back from behind Matt, to make it seem like he's not protecting you from the man who was literally just inside you. You shudder when Dex gives you a pleased look. You're choosing him. His hands clench with the need to grab you, pull you away from Matt. Maybe even push you down to the floor and really let Matt witness just how much you're his now.
You can see just how devious his thoughts are as he licks his lips yet again, his gaze undressing you. You can feel your own heart rate quicken, your legs pressing together as he stares at you like prey. You almost move back to hide behind Matt from his gaze.
"Stop." Matt barely seethes out, this time it was directed at you, tossed over his shoulder. Your face burns again, even worse when Dex chuckles. God, this was so humiliating.
"Did he hurt you?" Matt is asking again, just barely over his shoulder, like he doesn't want majority of his attention off the man in front of him.
You shake your head, weakly letting out, "N-no."
"Did you want what happened?"
You're staring straight at Dex. You hardly want to admit it out loud. "Yes," you whisper.
Dex takes a small step forwards, besides himself. Needs you right now. His pupils flare, almost consuming his irises and this time you do step behind Matt. This was all too intense for you.
Matt snaps at Dex for moving, "Stay right there. Didn't give you permission to move."
"Sorry, Daddy." Dex lets out in a snide voice, his top lip lifting up in a sneer.
Matt seems to take a moment to process everything. He's still tensed and ready to launch into a full fight, but with what you've said, despite everything, he can tell you're okay. Can tell you really are attracted to Dex, even if a little cautious and wary of him. You had every right to be. He was dangerous man. He wasn't happy with it, in fact, he really hoped you'd never see Poindexter again, and he'd do anything and everything to keep him away from you. But he knew how Benjamin Poindexter was. Knew how dark and perverted he was. Knew that this was mainly his fault, how he'd slipped up your name. How Dex perked up too much, asked too much. Wanted to know who and what you were to him. What you were to him was a friend, albeit a distant and resourceful friend. But the less he gave Poindexter, the more he pressed, the more he went searching for information.
After last night, Dex wasn't able to be found. He hadn't thought it about you at first, he'd hoped Dex had dropped the want and need of you. But after the fight with the AVTF that Dex was involved in, he knew he was injured. And he couldn't find him. He'd just hoped his intuition wasn't right. That he wouldn't have come here, to your house. To you. And then when you had opened up the door, in a seemingly okay state, he'd been so relieved. Until he'd heard Dex's footsteps he knew so well. Could smell his sweat. The sweat that was on your skin. He felt like something had punched his heart out of his chest. He wanted this to be the last place on Earth Dex had ever gotten to. You, to be the last person on Earth Dex would ever meet. He was relieved that you were okay, but furious that Dex had preyed on you. Because that's all he was. A predator. Matt just needed to make you see it.
"I think it's best if you go, Poindexter." His tone is cold, sapped from any emotion besides heartlessness.
Dex hardly contains a growl, "I'll go if she says to go." You won't kick him out, you're in love with him now. Obsessed with him. He was better than Matt, he proved that to you--
"I agree with Matt, Dex."
Dex lets out a hiss, like something inside of him was deflating. His teeth are bared in a bite, and he tries to catch your gaze from behind Matt. If he needed to yank out from behind him and make you remember how good his cock felt inside you, how his mouth consumed you, he would. He'd be elated to do it right in front of your little boyfriend. Maybe he'd fuck you right on Matt's lap, make you cry out his name while he destroyed and owned you from the inside out all over again.
Except Matt moves, completely blocking his view of you. You're ashamed, hanging your head, refusing to acknowledge Dex's seeking presence. There's a short dance the two men do, Dex trying to step around him, Matt blocking him with his stature. Dex seems to give up quite suddenly, your body shaking with the anticipation and unease of the situation. Dex sidesteps Matt, going to the front door. He's still shirtless and shoeless when he opens the front door. Doesn't seem to care about his weapons still on your coffee table in the living room either. You and Matt stand there, turned to watch him leave. He stops just inside the doorframe, dark gaze going to you.
"I'll see you later, sweetheart." Dex's voice is full of dark promises, his bruised mouth curling up into a biting smile before he's shutting the door very gently behind him.
You let out a breath you hadn't known you were holding, relief sagging your tensed shoulders. Matt still seems on edge. He sighs, still facing the door, his head tilted, like he listening to whatever sounds are outside of your house.
Awkwardly you look down at your shirt and cringe, noticing it was on not only backwards, but inside out. You hold back a groan and don't even want to think about the cum staining and ruining the inside of your shorts. Exasperated at the situation a bit, you blow out some air through your lips and gesture to the couch with a hand.
"Would you like to sit down and talk?"
Matt's attention comes back onto you and he nods, silently going to your couch, sitting in the exact spot Dex had been sitting in. The irony is not lost on you.
You take in his attire, donned in his Daredevil suit. He's not injured as far as you can tell, and you wonder just how much truth there was to what Dex told you. Fuck, you can't believe you'd slept with him! Regret was going to push far inside yourself, and Matt could tell.
"So," He starts, a little tentatively, "I don't really know what happened between you two, I can assume something more than PG-13 happened-"
The memory of Dex growling, pounding into you while he tugs your hair flashes through you.
"-but I just want to be clear to you about Poindexter's character."
You sit down next to him, curled a bit into yourself, but facing him with all of your attention.
He's quiet for a moment, like he's trying to hear your thoughts. "Are you sure you're okay? He didn't force you to do anything you didn't want to do?"
You chew your lip as you mull on your response, "I'm okay, yes. Maybe just a little embarrassed. Well, a lot embarrassed actually. I didn't really mean for it happen. And I did...want it." The admission makes your whole skin burn and the feeling of wanting to just shrivel up die comes back, but you can't stop now, "He didn't force me."
You think back on how scared you were, but how you had liked it. Liked feeling a little scared. It was something you'd never felt before. It was consuming, wanting him and fearing him. He hadn't hurt you, that was true. But there was something dark about him. Something dark in him that called out to a darkness inside of you. One that you hadn't really acknowledged or necessarily explored.
With a bit more conviction you say, "It was dumb, I wasn't thinking. Not really. Just...human nature, I guess. We were both tired and...I don't know what overcame me. It won't happen again."
Matt's lips press into a thin line. "I sincerely hope you're not lying to me."
"No." But your heart pounds, no matter how much you want it to be the truth.
He says nothing, does nothing.
"It's not like I'll be seeing him again, right? You have nothing to worry about. I'm really sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to sleep with your...co-worker?" You try. You were about to say friend, but have no idea his relationship with him.
Matt makes a noise that's a laugh but there's no humor in it. "Co-worker. Sure. We have some limited common interests." He reaches out to you, and you place a hand in his. He has a sincerity in his tone as his hands close around yours, "Dex is no good. He will abuse your kind heartedness. Despite whatever happened here today and last night, I am sorry that he got to you. It'd be best to put this behind you, and let it be a grace that you made it out unscathed."
A nervous laugh bubbles out of you, "You make him sound like a bad guy."
"He is."
---
"But, Matt-"
"No." He even says your name with such finality you almost drop the matter at hand.
"I want to be of use. I want to help. " You counter, and he lets out the most frustrated noise through the phone that you have to pull it away from your ear.
"You know why I can't."
"Yeah well, he's just a minor irritation." You're folding your clothes, putting them away as you go. You frown, noticing quite a lack of underwear in your underwear drawer. Did your dryer eat them all or something?
"It's been two months." He's referring to the last time you saw him.
"That's a long time!" You argue, frowning as you look around your laundry basket. Maybe you hadn't washed them? But your dirty hamper is empty. Everything's been washed.
Breathless like he can't keep up with you, he rushes out, "It's been two months and he won't stop asking about you. If I've gone over to your place. You shouldn't even be calling me, I'm honestly worried for your safety, not mine, if he finds out you've been contacting me."
"Matt," you keep going, a bit distracted as you look under your bed. Nothing. "I haven't been able to show you the blueprints of Fisk's latest. He's planning on creating an underground tunnel. Probably to quietly transport more crime and drugs. It's huge. And top secret, you wouldn't believe the hoops I had to jump to get to them."
Matt sounds sad on the other line of the phone, "I believe you. I know you put your life on the line. But there isn't much for me to do anyways, I can't have you coming here-" You weren't even sure where 'here' was for him - "and running into him."
"If he wanted to run into me so bad, he would out in public. I think you're overthinking everything. He probably just brings me up to get under your skin. I really had no idea you two had such a...rocky history."
After that day, two months ago, Matt had told you everything. Really, everything. Said that keeping you in the dark after you had proven to be such a loyal friend, had only gotten you hurt in the end. You knew about Foggy. And it made you sick knowing you had bedded someone like Dex.
A delusional part of you had liked that he was so unhinged and wrong, though. Something you'd never admit allowed. A thought that had made you feeling even more ashamed.
What really was shameful, after learning all you had about him, was that you couldn't stop thinking about him. That you liked hearing he was still asking about you. Still making sure Matt wasn't coming near you. Late at night, when your thoughts would go back to what had happened, you'd cream all over your fingers and cry out his name.
"Hello?" Matt's voice calls to you in your ear.
"Shit, sorry. I'm...just doing laundry. Got distracted." Not a complete lie.
"I said you're probably right." He sighs, defeated. "Meet me with documents. I'll send you the address." He doesn't even bother saying bye when he hangs up.
You blink, trying to comprehend and take in what just happened. Your phone chimes with a text of the address and instructions to meet him tomorrow. A smile splits across your face, missing panties forgotten.
You hardly get sleep that night, so excited to be apart of something again. To be working with Matt again. You toss and turn until sleep pulls you away from this plane of existence. When you awake, the sun is just barely parting in the room. But something unsettles you, you hadn't woken up naturally, it was as if your unconscious brain had sensed something or someone in the room with you.
You're frozen in your bed, ears straining, heart rate quickening. But you can't sense anything in the room with you. You take a glance around, nothing's out of the ordinary. You sit up in the bed, and a piece of blue fabric at the foot of your comforter catches your eye. You frown and reach for it, fingers grasping it and pulling it towards you.
It's a pair of panties. Your panties. One of the multiple pairs that you'd been missing. And they're warm. Like they'd been in between someone's closed fist.
You gasp and drop the material when you hold them up and see white liquid inside pooling in the crotch.
Your phone chimes with a text just as your front door softly closes.
Shooting out of bed, you rush out of your room, trying to catch tail of the culprit, with no luck. Fear settles in your stomach as you watch the lock turn and hear the key be removed from outside the door. Anxiety consumes you as you run back to your room, scrambling for your phone to call the police.
An unknown number's text message greets you.
Put them on, sweetheart.
You look back down to the blue pair of underwear, the tiny bow in the front mocking you. That was the extent of attractiveness of the pair, they were just a regular old pair, one that you'd often slept in. They now held a devious and dark energy. You could imagine what was staining the inside of them. You furiously blush. There was only person who'd called you sweetheart. Only one person you could think of that would be breaking in to your house and being the sole reason for your mystery of stolen underwear.
You jump when your phone chimes in your hand again.
Carry me with you today.
You swallow, and start to type back a 'hell no.' You can't. You erase it and rewrite it, staring at the screen with shaking fingers. Your heart races. Thighs tense. He was in here. He had been in here before, unbeknownst to you. But to be in here, standing over you, silently, with a pair of your stolen panties, wrapped around his hand and his cock. He must've struggled to be quiet, it's probably why you woke up. Did he hold a hand over his own mouth as he dragged the fabric over his aching length? You bite down on your lip as you think about it. That same feeling you get when you think of him at night starts a fire in your belly. Had he seen you touch yourself at night? Had he started to come in and heard you call out for him?
You're hardly thinking when you hook your thumbs under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, shucking them off your body. You're practically scrambling now, trying to get on the dirty pair of underwear with a new type of pathetic desperation. Your clit throbs as you drag them up your thighs, the crotch cold from the wetness pooled inside. You shiver but not out of disgust. You press your fingers against the wet fabric, pushing it tight against you, circling your aching clit a couple times before another chime alerts on your phone. With hazy eyes, you reach down and almost pout when it's Matt texting you, making sure you're on your way.
Fuck, you have no time to relieve yourself. Dex's cum sticking to you makes you wet and needy, your fingers refusing to come off the ruined fabric, pressing him up against you. Maybe you could be quick. You feel a whine build up in your throat when Matt sends three question marks when he sees you've read his text but didn't bother to answer.
"Fuck." You breathe out with frustration, ripping your hand away from your sopping cunt, going to your dresser to throw some clothes on. You send him a text you're on your way.
When you're driving, you're shifting your hips, trying to get the fabric of your bunched up, ruined underwear in the right place. Your hips undulate in the seat, and you think maybe you could relieve yourself this way until the GPS tells you you're here. You frown. It's a law office. A nice one. You step out of your car, the curiosity has pushed your burning and dirty thoughts away. You need to focus, dammit.
In your hands you have a tight grip on a manila folder. It has the documents you've stolen from your job, something about a Mr. Charles and some plans Fisk is trying to execute. You could die if this information got out to anyone. Matt was the only person you'd trust with something like this. People have killed for less. It was a good thing your job under Fisk was inconspicuous enough, however, if anyone found out that you had copies...and showed them to Matt...
You shudder in fear that doesn't feel good. Not the type of fear that Dex entices in you. No. This was fear for your life. You're stepping into the office, shocked to see how busy it is.
A woman comes up to greet you, "Do you have an appointment today?"
Your mouth opens, beginning to speak.
"She's here for me. Thank you." Matt comes up, tailored in a well fitted suit, donning his dark glasses as usual. He guides you with one hand, his cane raised up in his other. You don't know how he does it.
He brings you into an office space with large windows. Almost like a glass box. You feel a little nervous. He gives you a reassuring smile.
"They can't hear you in here."
"Still..." You clear your throat and sit down, tensing when you remember the underwear. Maybe it was not a good idea to wear them and do something this serious. You want to smack your hand against your forehead and reprimand yourself. Where does your logic and thought go when it comes to Dex?
Matt takes a seat across from you, frowning when he can tell how tense you are and hear your heart rate.
"Are you alright?"
You give him a smile, "Yes, just...nervous is all." Which isn't a lie.
You open the folder and start reading. It was nice, even though the environment was different, this was how your relationship with the Daredevil had started. You fall into the routine of reading for him, of pausing when he starts to question or asks you to describe it better for him. It felt good, to be able to do this again. Relief and gratitude sweep over you and when you're finished, you sit back in your chair, feeling accomplished.
"So. Fisk is essentially trying to move more military grade weapons through New York."
"Yes," you sigh, the feeling washing away as reality settles in. You hate the man. Hate everything he stands for, "I'm not sure who this Mr. Charles is. I haven't seen him around, or if I have, I haven't noticed. I've been discretely trying to get more information, but..." You shrug, "it's hard also trying to stay under the radar."
"You've done a fantastic job," He praises you, earning a blush from you, "this is a lot of work you've done."
You smile sheepishly, and think back on to the late nights with him. He looks so human like this. Not a mystic, not a hero, just a man. There was a time you'd had a crush on your vigilante Daredevil, when you'd share information with him. He was just so...nice. It ended up dying right away when he was so boyish in his red suit with his sweet smile and kind words. He'd been nothing more than a friend from there on out. He stands, prompting you to do the same.
"Thank you for meeting with me, I had no idea you had such a big office."
He looks sad for a brief moment, probably thinking about his friend who'd been murdered. "It was a lot of work getting here."
Uncomfortable with the thought of Dex doing something like that, you try to change the subject, "No doubts here. If I come across anything more, I'll contact you."
You gather up your paperwork and start to turn towards the door. Matt calls out your name, so you stop.
"Has he made any contact with you?"
You know exactly who he's talking about.
Knowing what it means to lie to him, and how he knows it, you cringe, eyes shutting as you try to calm your nerves. You turn your words over your shoulder, hand on the door handle. "I'm not sure." It's half the truth. But you knew it was him. Who else could it possibly be? Otherwise...who's semen would be pressed up against your bare sex in your underwear right now?
Matt says nothing.
"Bye, Matt." You say as you're basically rushing out of the office now, too ashamed to face him and talk.
You're so focused on escaping you hardly catch the dark blue flash move behind a wall outside. You freeze. It couldn't be. There were so many shades of blue out in the world, but it was that shade of blue that haunted you in the night.
Your fingers tightly clutch your folder in your hand. Probably ruining it. But you can't stop, the pull of the possibility lulling you towards the alleyway. You want to call out, heart pounding as you round the dark corner. Nothing. You can feel your shoulders drop. Great. Now you were hallucinating seeing him. He was going to drive you mad. A bit relieved and a lot disappointed, you turn your back to the dark alley, your car glinting in the sun across the street. You hadn't even registered how quick you came over to investigate. Christ, you were not thinking. Especially with the incriminating papers you had in your possession.
You take a single step out of the alley, your foot the only thing catching the sunlight before a strong hand grips over your mouth, another arm bounding up and around your waist, yanking you back into the darkness. You scream and thrash against your captor, until your air flow is cut off as the hand over your mouth pinches your nose too. You go dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
"Shhh. Don't scream just yet."
You want to melt against him. Gods, this was not the reaction to have in this situation. You needed to get your head checked obviously, the burn in your lungs becoming something you want to welcome. Giving him everything he wants to take. His fingers release the hold over your nose, but he still keeps his gloved hand clamped over your mouth. You suck in oxygen, your thoughts somewhat leveling out. He pulls you further into the darkness, before he's spinning you around, pressing your back up against the brick building. This way you can look up at him, his hand still staying over the lower half of your face. He's donned in his suit, mask on. It shouldn't make this feel any hotter but it does.
Dex's gaze appraises you, taking you in with not a care of the outside world except what's going on in this alley right now.
"Did you know I was following you?"
You can hardly shake your head with the hold he has, but you attempt to anyways. You're clutching the folder to your chest.
He hums, staring at the folder, "Figured. Pretty little girls like you never think they're in danger."
That should send a slash of fear in you. The real kind. It doesn't. It makes you slick. Makes you try and press your thighs together as something devious starts to build inside of you. His free hand plucks the folder from you, and you make a sound of protest, reaching out to try and grab it from him.
"Quit." He leans down and places the folder on the dirty ground, stepping on it. It secures it on the floor, under his boot. "There. Don't want that in the way." He mutter more to himself than to you, his full attention coming back.
You watch each other for moment. You haven't seen him in two months. You'd almost forgotten how big he was, the anticipation of what he's about to do consumes your thoughts, consumes your insides. You're practically ready to beg him to touch you, to do anything, to admit that you've been wanting him and needing him since that fateful night, but his hand tenses around your mouth as he leans in closer. Seems like he's not planning on letting you speak to him at all.
Without a word, Dex grips the hem of your skirt. His dark eyes on yours, watching you. Always watching. Of course, you'd worn a skirt. You wanted to feel the slick of him better on your thighs. If Dex thought he was obsessed...he had no idea what the notion had done to you. He slowly lifts up the skirt, and he chokes, seeing that blue little bow greet him. The blue panties stretched around your hips. His head drops to your shoulder and he chuffs out a breathless laugh,
"Can't fucking believe it. You're perfect, you know that?" Again, it's like he's not talking to you. Just voicing his thoughts out loud, muttered so lowly you strain to hear him.
You whine behind his hand.
"I know, sweetheart. You did so good. Such a good girl." His hand lets goes of the skirt, though he reaches up under it, his gloved hand pressing up against your clothed cunt, his padded fingers abrasively rubbing up against your sensitive slit. Your hips tilt up and you keen at his praise and attention. "Kept me with you all day, didn't you?"
You try nodding, but it's really useless. He doesn't care for your responses right now. Right now, you were his to toy with. You're soaking through the fabric of your already ruined underwear, his fingers finding your clit with ease. You whine from the pressure and stimulation from the material between his fingers and your throbbing clit. His fingers tighten around your mouth briefly.
"Quiet. You don't want Matty coming down here and spoiling our fun, do you?" Dex whispers harshly, his masked mouth coming down to your ear. He cages you in against him and the wall.
You attempt yet again to shake your head, tears filling your eyes. God no. You wouldn't be able to handle the humiliation. Though the office is across the street, you don't doubt his supersonic hearing. The scene paints itself in your head as your fingers press into the brick wall behind you. Matt'd hear, hear your cries, probably hear Dex's voice and think the worst. He'd rush down into the alleyway and-- thank god he couldn't see. Wouldn't be able to see Dex in donned in his Bullseye attire, dirty boot on top of some incriminating information, caging you in with his much larger body. Fingers stuffed under your skirt, hand covering your mouth. It'd kill Matt. It makes you hot and wanting. Did you want Matt to watch? What was this fire in your veins at the thought of it?
"Do you?" He repeats with words full of warning. Like he's daring you to say yes. You make a noise, trying to say 'no' from behind his hand.
His fingers reward you with tight circles around your clit. It's almost too much, feeling the ridges in his gloves, the fabric of your panties adding a bite to the pleasure.
"You met up with him with my cum in your underwear." His voice is condescending, like he's bullying you. He lets out a breathless laugh again, like he can't believe you'd have the audacity to do such a thing. It should make you feel ashamed, feel dirty. It doesn't. It has the exact opposite effect and you start to feel desperate as Dex keeps drawing circles against your clit, your desire for him tightening up stronger.
He seems to sense talking to you is riling you up. It's riling him up, you can tell, his thick cock swollen in the fabric of his suit, following along down his thigh. You want to beg for it, haven't been able to stop thinking about it inside you, stretching you out and filling you in a way no one else has before. Although it's dark in the alley, your sight has since adjusted. It was still daylight outside after all. And anyone could just walk by or get a curious inclination to walk down here, between these two buildings. Another thing that should make you want to stop. It should make you want him to stop.
"Prancing around in his office, with another man's cum. Should be crime." He chuckles, watching you whine and writhe under his fingers and attention. The joke he's making is not lost on you, but you can't appreciate his humor while he's ruining you. The friction making your sight hazy. Your hands reach down and clutch his forearm, feeling the muscles roll underneath your fingers as he works you. Dex hums with the contact, pleased you're touching him.
The band is tightening, your flooding pussy fluttering as he brings you closer to the edge. You look up into his dark eyes as he keeps bringing you closer to the edge. You're making a slew of noises behind his hand, your moans just barely escaping from behind it. You make a sound close to his name, slurred and muted.
He can tell how close you are, of course he can tell. He'd been listening to the types of moans and noises you'd make for months now. You'd been none the wiser as he'd slip into your house, steal your panties either from your dirty hamper or clean drawer when you'd occupy the shower. He wasn't particular about which colors, which ones. Sometimes he wouldn't even be able to leave the house before he'd reach down and start tugging at himself. Once, he held a dirty pair to his nose and mouth, suffocating himself in you as he laid down on your messy bed, a clean pair wrapped around his cock as he'd hurriedly tried to get himself off. It was a little race he'd play with you. A part of him hoped you'd step out of the bathroom and catch him, and that was what drew his balls up tight and made him shoot his load all over his clothed stomach. He unwrapped your (somewhat) clean underwear from his cock, and laid them back in the dresser, on top of all the rest of your underwear. So it'd be the first pair you'd grabbed. And you had. Later that night he'd snuck in. Just to check. You were a heavy sleeper, something he found he thoroughly enjoyed. He'd pulled back your covers and saw that black little pair wrapped around your hips.
Then he got more bold. He started to really steal them. Not returning them. He wanted you to notice, but you hadn't seemed to. Not once when he was trailing you, did you ever stop at a store and buy more. It hurt him. Why wouldn't you notice him? There were nights that made him feel like he did matter, when you'd crawl into your bed and play with yourself and call out his name. It took all his willpower to not step out of the shadows and remind you exactly how he felt, but he was scorned. He was mad at you. You had kicked him out! Chose Matt over him after all you two had shared. After all that cream and wetness you'd gotten all over him. But with how often he followed and stalked you, you didn't ever really try to meet up with Matt. Not until two weeks ago, when you'd stolen whatever it was you'd stolen from Fisk's office. He'd have to reprimand you for working for a scumbag like him later. He was still trying to convince you Matt wasn't the one for you. And it had worked, for a little while. But you got a long phone call from him. He could tell from your call log history. And that was enough for him.
He needed to remind you who you belonged to.
So that's when he decided to come out of the shadows. He went home, found his favorite pair of panties of yours. The cute little blue ones. It was his favorite color, after all. He'd convince you it was yours too, soon. He'd snuck in your house, just before the sun was starting to come up. It was one of his favorite times of days, the world was quiet, your sleep was the deepest sleep. He didn't need to get himself hard, he'd already been leaking and throbbing in his pants since he'd thought about what it was he was going to do. You'd be so happy with the generous gift he was about to give you.
It was a struggle to keep himself quiet. He had hiked the hem of his shirt up into his mouth, biting down on to the fabric, mainly to keep it out of the way while he stood over you, at the edge of the bed. And to be able to see his leaking tip press against the inside of the crotch of the panties. His precum darkening the fabric, making the blue a shade darker. He'd saved up his cum for a couple days too, refusing himself the relief. He wanted it to be a lot, he wanted you to have as much of him as he could manage. One hand was cupped around his balls, the waistband of those damn sweats hooked under them. The other jerking himself off so furiously he was surprised you weren't waking up to the sound of his movements and his whimpering he could hardly contain. Once, you'd moved and made the tiniest noise and he froze, thinking surely you'd wake up and catch him. You didn't. But the shift you'd made in the bed had caused your comforter to slide down your chest, and though you were fully clothed, the sight of you just tipped him over the edge.
His back had bowed, his head tipped forward, and his balls tightened up under his hands, shooting out his load in your panties. His teeth ground so harshly into his shirt that it hurt, his jaw clenched shut. There was so much cum that it started leaking out of your panties and he wanted to cry in frustration, upset that he was wasting so much. When he finished, he laid them neatly on the edge of the bed, tucking his sensitive and sore cock back in the sweats, his mouth releasing the fabric of his shirt. He'd panted, out of breath and that's when you'd really started to wake up. Quickly, and as stealthily as he could, he'd stepped out of your room, picked up his shoes from the entry way of the front door and eased it open. He was considerate, and didn't want anybody else getting in -the thought drove him almost mad- so, he'd turn the spare key he'd made himself in your lock from the outside, locking up like any good guy would.
And then he'd texted you. It was the first time he'd had. But he wanted you to be hundred percent sure his intentions. And to see if you'd really cared.
So, when he'd changed into his suit, checked the tracker he'd put into your car, he'd come and waited for you like a good dog waits for their owner. He hadn't meant to lure you in his hiding spot, but he couldn't keep his hands off you. He'd needed to confirm that you wore them. It eased the pain of you ignoring his texts. And when you looked up at him with such desire and pleasure in your tearful eyes, whined behind his hand, bucked your hips against the other, he knew. Matt never compared. Dex was the one for you. He just had to remind you from time to time, it seemed. And that angered him. How could you forget?
You're babbling behind his hand now, fingers clutching against his forearm, thighs shaking. Your chest is heaving, not getting enough air from just your nose, trying to gasp around the material of his glove. He's not trying to suffocate you, he just doesn't want Matt hearing you and coming down here. Not right now. He would just distract you from Dex. That's all he was. A distraction.
"Come on. That's it. There we go." Dex whispers, encouraging you to let go. He watches your eyes cross and close, and suddenly you're cumming. You're cumming in the underwear, both of you mixed together now. He groans lowly, his cock throbbing with the need to shove himself inside of you right against this wall. You look so good, look so pretty when you're like this. He eases up the pressure on your clit, still letting you hump against his fingers as you work yourself through the orgasm, your knees buckling. He laughs, shocked, his body pressing forwards to catch you against him, his knee replacing his hand on your cunt. He releases your mouth, pleased when he sees the marks his padding from his gloves made pressed against your skin. Your thighs squeeze around his thigh as you gasp in air through your mouth.
Before you can even think about speaking, Dex grips your hips to help you stand back up, steadying you on your feet. When he feels you're stable enough to stand on your own, he reaches down to the ground, pulling up the folder from underneath his foot. Plastered against it is a dirty boot mark. He slaps it against your chest, and you catch it with a frown.
"Be more careful with this stuff." He warns lowly, actual concern lacing through him, "If I could watch you get into Fisk's files, you have no idea who else could."
You frown deeper as you take in his words, and before you can question him, he's turning away from you already.
"Wait-" you call out hoarsely, embarrassed at how ruined you sound. You have no idea what to say him as he looks at you from over his shoulder, "where are you going?"
"I've got some errands to run. See you around, sweetheart."
Disappointment and confusion flow through you as you watch him prowl out of the alleyway, into broad daylight. You tremble, still coming back to reality from what just happened. The orgasm giving you a clearer mind than how you started out this morning. Your head thumps against the brick behind you as your eyes close in frustration. Was it so bad that you wanted him back in here to finish what he'd started? You sigh, suddenly feeling way too dirty. Your underwear is sopping wet, you feel it squelch when you walk back to your car, facing burning. A passerby gives you a strange work when you emerge from the dark alley, and you don't even want to see what you look like, as you wobble to your car.
Breathing out to calm your nerves, you turn your keys in the ignition and start the drive back to your house. A hot shower sounds very needed right now and you definitely needed a new pair of underwear.
