iwtv seasons one and two was like being tucked into bed and read a heartbreaking story by Louis du pointe du lac. The Vampire Lestat is like your blackout drunk uncle trying to tell you an anecdote at a family gathering
Pope Leo is letting American bishops entirely ban trans healthcare for both minors and adults in all Catholic-owned hospitals and clinics, and stop coverage for trans healthcare through Catholic-affiliated health insurance plans!!
People are having surgeries, for which they were on waitlists for years, suddenly cancelled. Hormones no longer covered, their clinicians no longer able to prescribe them. Considering in some states Catholic-owned healthcare organizations make up to a third of the market, as it were, this is a HUGE issue.
Missing hormones. Canceled surgeries. Bureaucratic denials. Late last year the Catholic Church banned all trans healthcare across its sprawl
This has been happening since November of last year, when this vote took place, but no one is talking about it. The rehabilitation of the image of the papacy through Pope Leo is killing me, itâs still the goddamn Catholic Church. You do not gotta hand it to them.
I just saw someone say "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism" as an argument for boycotting AO3
Babe AO3 is a nonprofit. They do not exist under the ethics of capitalism. Fanfiction is legal because no money is ever exchanged around it. (All the money given to AO3 is used to maintain their servers and pay their lawyers to help keep fanfiction legal.)
Fanfiction is one of the few things in this world - probably the one singular form of entertainment that does not exist within the confines of capitalism. So by your own logic, even if you hate some of the content on AO3, it's inherently the only ethical thing to consume in the whole world.
virgin fbi!dex who cries during sex because hes just sososo infatuated with you and cant believe he's actually inside of you. virgin fbi!dex who then cums way too early, only to cry more because he thinks you'll be mad and leave him forever. then he's crying more because you're just so nice to him, telling him you'll stay if he keeps fucking up. now hes crying cause it hurts in a good way. and hes crying because hes crying. just a total weeping mess omg
crying doesnt look like a real word after typing this
hes sooo :((
so weepy and sensitive to everything around him. hes crying because hes crying, then hes hard again because youre talking to him so softly and reassuring him. now hes crying bc hes hard and feels like a perv :( poor baby
he wouldnât even be crying for any real reason, he just feels so good because heâs making you feel good. he is so eager to please you, he would do anything if you just ask. he worshiped the ground you walk on, the fact that someone like you gave him a chance? he didnât know how he could have ever gotten this lucky.
you even wipe away his tears, âshhh baby, donât cry, youâre doing so goodâ and it makes him whine and shake so hard you feel it shift the mattress.
when you finish heâs still teary eyed, hunched over you and looking like a lost puppy. âi did good, right? tell me i did good, please, you think im a good guy, right?â
he doesnât even think of being called good boy. doesnât even crave it. he just wants you to tell him he is really one of the good guys, how he couldnt possibly do anything bad.
creator's note: he is ALWAYS whiny in bed, no matter what hes receiving. and, no, i am not speaking from experience (i totally am).
warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), porn w/o plot, oral sex (male receiving), overstimulation, power dynamics, inexperienced sub! dex, slight begging, praise kink, slight rough handling (hair pulling, tight grip), not proofread.
word count: 1.5k
Heâd never admit it, not outright. Not to you, not to anyone. But the second your knees hit the floor in front of him, Dex goes quiet in a way youâve never seen beforeâlike someone reached inside and flipped a switch.
The kind of quiet that isnât peace. Itâs heavy, taut, vibrating under his skin.
Heâs sitting on the edge of your bed, hands gripping his own knees so tightly his knuckles blanch, jaw working like heâs chewing over words that wonât come. And youâwell, youâre looking up at him with that calm, steady gaze that always undoes him, hands sliding up the insides of his thighs slow, deliberate, until you feel the twitch of muscle under your fingertips.
âRelax,â you murmur, soft but firm, like itâs not a request.
His breath stutters. He tries. God, he tries, but his body is a live wire. Itâs the kind of thing you can feel more than see, a trembling tension wound through every muscle, like heâs not sure whether to shove you away or pull you closer.
And when you tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, when you free him from the thin cotton and watch his cock bounce against the flat of his stomach, flushed and leaking, his brain justâŠshort-circuits.
âF-fuck,â he breathes, voice cracking on the word.
Your mouth curves in a slow, cruel smile as you glance up at him, eyes sharp and steady. âLanguage, Dex.â
The way his throat works around a swallow, the desperate bob of his Adamâs appleâyouâve got him, and you know it.
You take your time about it, stroking him once, twice, just to feel the weight and heat of him in your hand. Heâs hard already, so painfully hard it makes your own chest ache to look at him. You can feel him twitch against your palm, his hips jerking like heâs fighting himself.
You lean in and lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, from the base to the leaking head. Dex chokes on a soundâsomething high, strangled, completely unguarded. His head tips back, eyes screwing shut, a sharp line between his brows like the pleasure hurts.
You hum against him, low and pleased, and his hands finally leave his knees, hovering awkwardly in the air like he doesnât know what to do with them.
âTouch me,â you say, soft but cutting through the haze heâs in.
His hands land in your hair almost instantly, tentative but needy, and when you take him into your mouthâslow, letting him feel the wet heat of you, the careful drag of your tongue along the undersideâDex makes a sound thatâs almost broken.
Itâs not words. Itâs never words with him, not when youâve got him like this. Just noisesâsharp, ragged, punched out of him.
âAhâGodâf-fuck,â he gasps, hips jerking up before he catches himself, knuckles white where theyâre tangled in your hair. âMmhââ
You take him deeper, swallowing around him, and the noise that tears out of him is pure desperation. Itâs almost pathetic, the way heâs trying so hard to hold still, to be good, but his thighs are shaking under your hands, muscles jumping every time you hollow your cheeks and suck.
You pull back just enough to breathe, slick spit connecting your lips to the flushed, wet head of his cock, and he makes this helpless sound, high and keening, like youâve just killed him.
âLook at me,â you tell him, and his eyes snap open immediatelyâwide, glassy, blown-black pupils swallowing up blue.
âFuckâplease,â he chokes out, voice wrecked, but you donât let him finish. You take him back down, slower this time, drawing it out until heâs trembling so hard you can feel it in the way his hands tighten in your hair, like heâs begging for mercy he canât put into words.
Every little twitch, every broken noise, every sharp gasp is yours to take, and you savor itâslow drags of your tongue, the wet glide of your lips, the obscene slurp when you pull back just enough to breathe again.
You hum around him, the vibration making him jolt. Dex sobs. Itâs quiet, choked, but itâs there, raw and desperate, spilling out of him in a way he doesnât even notice because heâs too far gone.
His thighs are trembling now, every muscle strung tight like a bowstring, and you knowâGod, you knowâheâs close. The erratic twitch of his hips gives him away, the frantic edge to his breathing, the way his grip in your hair has gone from tentative to bruising.
âPlease,â he rasps, voice breaking. âOh God, pleaseâdonâtâdonât stopââ
You donât.
You take him deeper, swallow around him, and when he falls apart, itâs with a wrecked, strangled cry, hips jerking despite himself, every line of him locked tight for a split second before heâs spilling down your throat.
Itâs messyâGod, itâs so messy. Heâs shaking, gasping, muttering half-words that donât make sense, like his brainâs completely fried.
You keep going, slow and lazy now, letting him feel every aftershock, every twitch of oversensitivity that makes him whimper and twist but never actually push you away.
âToo much,â he finally manages, voice barely there, high and pleading, but you donât let up, not entirely. Just enough to make him sob again, sharp and raw, until his head tips forward and his forehead rests against your shoulder, shaking.
His weight folds over you slowly, like gravity finally got its hooks in him. His breath is ragged and hot where it ghosts over your neck, his forehead damp against your skin. You can feel his hands still tangled in your hair, trembling, unsure whether to hold on or let go.
âShhh,â you murmur, easing back just enough to let him breathe but keeping your hand on him, a lazy, loose grip that makes his hips twitch helplessly. âEasy, Dex. Youâre alright.â
A broken little sound spills out of himâhalf a sob, half a pleaâand you almost smile. He doesnât even realize how much heâs giving away right now, how wide open he is in this moment. His usual sharp edges, his barbed wire and teeth, are justâŠgone. Whatâs left is trembling and raw and achingly soft.
âYouââ His voice cracks, barely audible against your shoulder. âI canâtâfuck, I canâtââ
âYou can,â you interrupt, calm and steady, and you tighten your fist around him just a fraction, slow and measured. âYou will.â
His body jerks like the words hit something deep, his thighs clenching under your hands. He makes another of those wrecked noises, strangled in his throat, and you can feel him tryingâtryingâto hold still, to be good for you.
But heâs already oversensitive, the sharp edge of his first orgasm bleeding into something deeper, sharper. His hips twitch despite himself, tiny, involuntary movements that give away just how close to unraveling he still is.
âPlease,â he whispers, hoarse and quiet, almost like he doesnât want you to hear it. âI canâtâsâtoo muchââ
You tilt your head just enough to catch his glassy, ruined stare, pupils blown wide and rimmed red. âYou can take it,â you say softly, not unkind but firm enough to leave no room for argument. âYouâre gonna take it for me.â
The breath he drags in is sharp and shaky, like it hurts. And thenâGodâhis hips roll, desperate and mindless, into your hand.
âThatâs it,â you murmur, coaxing, your thumb stroking lazily over the slick, sensitive head. âJust like that, Dex. Be good for me.â
Heâs not making words anymoreâjust broken, high-pitched sounds, whimpers and sharp gasps that tear out of his chest without his permission. His hands tighten in your hair again, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder like if he looks at you, if he really sees what youâre doing to him, heâll shatter completely.
And maybe he will.
Because when you twist your wrist just right, dragging your fist down slow and tight, his whole body jerks like a live wire. His breath stutters, sharp and desperate, and then heâs spilling again, a second orgasm ripped out of him so fast and hard itâs almost painful.
The sound he makes this time isnât sharp or ragged. Itâs quiet. Shaken. Like something broke loose inside him and he doesnât know how to put it back together.
You ease him through it, gentle but unrelenting, stroking him until the last tremor fades and heâs slumped completely against you, boneless and wrecked. His breath hitches in little aftershocks, and when you finally let go, his cock soft and spent against his thigh, his hands slip free of your hair like he doesnât even have the strength to hold on anymore.
For a long moment, thereâs nothing but the sound of his breathingâuneven, shaky, the quiet, stunned silence of someone whoâs never been undone like that before.
Then, softly, so soft you almost miss it, he murmurs, ââŠfuck.â
A laugh hums in your chest, quiet and fond, and you press a kiss to the side of his temple. âLanguage,â you murmur again, teasing, and the sound he makes in response is somewhere between a groan and a whimper.
âYouââ His voice is rough, frayed. â⊠I donâtââ
âI know,â you soothe, a hand sliding up to tangle in his hair, gentle now, grounding. âI know, baby. Youâre okay.â
His throat bobs as he gulped.
Because God help him, heâll always be (more than) okay around you.
he wouldnât even be crying for any real reason, he just feels so good because heâs making you feel good. he is so eager to please you, he would do anything if you just ask. he worshiped the ground you walk on, the fact that someone like you gave him a chance? he didnât know how he could have ever gotten this lucky.
you even wipe away his tears, âshhh baby, donât cry, youâre doing so goodâ and it makes him whine and shake so hard you feel it shift the mattress.
when you finish heâs still teary eyed, hunched over you and looking like a lost puppy. âi did good, right? tell me i did good, please, you think im a good guy, right?â
he doesnât even think of being called good boy. doesnât even crave it. he just wants you to tell him he is really one of the good guys, how he couldnt possibly do anything bad.
Tags: Sub Dex - Female reader - Inexperienced Dex - Oral sex ( f receives ) - Panty kink - Panty licking - Panty eating (?) - Praise kink - Established relationship
There was nothing better than a cloudy afternoon in your apartment, the world outside muted and grey, while inside you had warmth, comfort, and the company of your boyfriend with a movie humming faintly in the backgroundâsomething neither of you were really watching anymoreâas you're sitting on the sofa, legs open, perfectly at ease, happy and relaxed, letting him doâŠ
Well, that strange thing heâs been obsessed with for weeks now.
He's on his knees between your thighs, shoulders tense with effort, face buried right where the heat radiates from you. He hadnât even touched your bare skin yet, just pressing his mouth to the thin cotton stretched over you. Your panties, damp from the earlier teasing were soaked through now, clinging to your feverish skin. His tongue moves against the barrier testing and pushing, little slow strokes that make you twitch because of the ticklish sensation that travels up your core to every place under your skin.
Then, as if something snapped loose in him, the licks came faster, so sloppy, as though he couldnât believe you are letting him do it, as though he was scared you will take it away if he doesn't devour you every second.
At first, he seemed awkwardly harmless when he askedâshy, almost tripping over his own words. Typical Dex.
Up until then, your relationship hadnât crossed the line of kisses and hesitant touches, so when he finally deigned to ask you that, your smile spread without you meaning it to. It wasnât that you were shyâyou knew eventually youâd ask him yourselfâbut there was something disarming about the way he rushed to get the words out, as if the idea had been gnawing at him for too long to keep inside.
The weight slipped off your shoulders in the moment he said it, he saved you from being the one to break that invisible wall first. Just a quiet, offhand question slipped between laughs during a silly conversation full of intimacy.
You could still hear his voice in your head, low and a little rushed, which made you think that if he said it too clearly it might sound like too much. And yet the request had been simple enough, almost innocent, if not for the heat behind it.
That way, he wouldnât have to keep sneaking around, wouldnât have to âborrowâ your panties the way he had been doingâthinking you hadnât noticed or that his little secret was safe.
The truth was that you had noticed. Of course you had, and the thought of him alone with something that belonged to you, so desperate enough to do that, all of it was too tempting to just stare at him as if he was a weirdo, that's not how you are, you're hyperaware of the fact you enjoy your awkward freak and you can't bring yourself to judge such act covered in worship.
âDex,â you murmur, fingers curling into his hair, tugging just enough to make him look at you, âyou know you can take them off, right? At this point youâve kind of already eaten them.â The words slip out with a breathless giggle, the fabric clinging to you sticky and soaked from his persistence.
He doesnât stop right away. He presses his mouth harder, trying to drink through the thin barrier, and there's a desperate noise vibrating against you when you finally tug him back, his lips are swollen, slick with spit and the product of your satisfaction.
âYeah I know,â he says, voice a little muffled. He swallows hard before admitting, âbut I donât really know that,â his breath hitches, his cheeks flushing deeper, and he shifts like heâs embarrassed by the confession but canât help himself.
âI like⊠I like how they taste like this, I also want to try more, but you'd probably be disappointed,â that last part comes with a breathy, nervous laugh that has you smiling.
He presses his mouth back to the soaked spot, dragging his tongue slowly over it until your breath stutters in your chest. The pressure isnât nearly enough, not with the fabric still in the way, but watching him try to rut against nothing while he licks and sucks greedily has your whole body burning. Heâs a mess somehowâhips jerking, shoulders tight with restraint, mouth working like he thinks if he just tries harder heâll get to the sweetness beneath.
âYou could never disappoint me,â you murmur, encouraging. âBesides, you already know some tricks,â
The small compliment makes him finally look up at you, pupils blown wide, lashes trembling with every desperate blink. His lips shine, wet and swollen, and he looks undone just from this. You giggle when he just stares at you like you just said something that he will never forget.
âNot that lookâŠâ you tease, laughter breaking the tension for a heartbeat.
He answers with a quick, clumsy lick against the damp fabric just where your clit is swollen beneath the material, like a puppy desperate to please, earning another little sound from your throat.
âAlright,â you exhale, your thighs twitching, the teasing burning into frustration, âthis is too much. Iâm gonna teach you Dexâso you can do it good and please me properlyâbecause youâre making me go crazy here.â
Your words make him shiver, his hands tightening on your thighs like heâs bracing for a lesson heâs been waiting his whole life to take.
âAre you sure?â his voice makes your chest tighten, makes your pulse race in sync with the steady throb between your legs. You give him the smallest nod, and itâs all he needs. His face lights up, so grateful it nearly breaks you. âOkay⊠okay, thank you,â he whispers.
The way he looks at you makes your stomach flip, he always looks at you like you're something divine and painfully sacred that he still can't believe is by his side.
You canât wait to show him what heâs capable of, to coax out that potential heâs so desperate to prove. With a quick hand, you hook your thumb into the band pressing against your swollen heat and peel your panties aside, just enough to expose the slick ache heâs been tormenting himself over all this time.
The moment your cunt glistens in the dim light, his breath catches audibly. His eyes go wide, pupils swallowing the pretty hazel, lips parting like heâs about to pray. He stares at the way you shine for him, mesmerized, a wet sigh escaping from you as the cool air kisses your bare skin. His gaze flickers up to your face, only to fall again, drawn helplessly back down.
âNow,â you say softly, steadying his focus, guiding his hunger with a fingertip pointing where you want him. Your swollen clit, just a little below it, âstart here with your tongue, yeah? Just a slow lick, baby.â
âMhm,â he nods quickly almost trembling with the weight of your instruction, leaning in with both of his hands gripping your thighs.
He obeys instantly, no hesitation at all. His tongue drags up your folds with a shaky gasp, slow just like you told him. The sound of itâhis raw need bleeding into every movementâmakes you shiver. By the time his tongue slides up to touch your clit, your whole body is already leaning into him, greedy for more. His hands clutch your thighs like heâs terrified youâll push him away, knuckles straining white.
âGood boy,â you murmur, your voice dropping lower, syrupy-sweet with approval. The effect is immediateâhe has to take a moment to whine, then lick his lips to continue.
âJust like that,â you guide, and he follows before you even finish speaking, desperate to earn more of your approval. His tongue circles your clit in quick little swirls, messy but effective, each one sending sparks dancing through your belly.
Then he slides lower again, down to where youâre dripping, where your body pulses and clenches with every teasing touch. He pushes the tip of his tongue inside, shallow, but still enough to make your breath catch, to make your thighs tighten reflexively. He doesnât linger longâonly to taste a little bit of what's inside, enough to make you gaspâbefore moving back up to your clit, the rhythm is not overwhelming but it is intoxicating. Every pass feels better than the last, his tongue applying the right pressure, dragging the sweetest ticklish ache out of you until your lips part in a bitten-back moan.
Heâs learning you on instinct alone, desperate, eager, and itâs already making you dizzy.
âDex,â you gasp, tightening your grip on his hair âPlease start sucking, your lips... Use your lips,â twitching and panting feeling pathetic, but no more than him because he nods so quickly, closing his lips around your clit making a little pout that makes you close your eyes and moan.
His muffled mhmm vibrates right against your clit, and the sound alone makes your legs tremble. His mouth doesnât leave you, not even for a secondâheâs latched on now, fully addicted, tongue moving in frantic little circles that border on sloppy but feel like heaven. Every desperate flick drags another wave of heat out of you, and when he sucksâlips pulling tight around your swollen nubâyour cunt clenches against nothing, aching, your body trying to grasp at something that isnât there.
The pressure is relentless, his tongue alternating between circling and pressing, abusing that bundle of raw nerves that has your hips rocking helplessly against his mouth. The broken moan that rips out of you only spurs him on, he groans louder, shamelessly, the sound spilling directly into your skin, feeding off your reaction.
Heâs lost in itâlost in your taste, in the tug of your fingers in his hair, in the way you guide each quick movement like youâre conducting him. You donât even have to look down to know whatâs happening to him; you can feel it in the tremor of his shoulders, in the tiny twitch of his body pressed so close to your legs. Heâs rutting against the air, straining for friction he canât have, so turned on itâs almost painful, but he refuses to pull away from you.
The sight aloneâhis mouth worshipping you while his own body trembles with needâmakes the burn inside you coil tighter, ready to snap.
Your free hand drifts down, resting on your lower belly, fingertips grazing your mound. His eyes flicker to the movement, wide and intent, but his mouth never falters against you. Then, suddenly, his grip shiftsâhe releases your thighs, and the absence of that bruising hold makes you whimper at the loss. Before you can even complain, his hands are sliding higher, thumbs pressing delicately to either side of your labia.
The breath catches in your throat when he parts you open, spreading the slick skin. He pulls back just enough to look, his mouth hovering, his eyes locked on you, on your most intimate part he needs to see. Adoration softens every line of his face, and the way he drinks in the sight makes you tremble.
âWhat are you doing? Don't do that⊠keep going,â you whine, the petulance in your own voice making heat rush to your cheeks, shame curling under the desire. You sound like a begging spoiled child.
He licks his lips, eyes flashing up to yours, caught between guilty and awestruck. âSorry. I just wanted to see,â there's a very awkward pause, â...wow.â The last whisper is reverent, ragged, and before you can scold him again, his mouth is back on you.
This time he starts lower, licking and sucking at your entrance, his thumbs still holding you open so he can taste every drop. You shudder at the hot, sloppy attention, gasping when he drags his tongue back up and catches your clit again between his lips. The combination makes you arch, your back bowing against the sofa, hips rolling forward to feed him more.
Obscene wet sounds echoing between you as he works. Your body pushes into his mouth again and again, giving in completely while he laps and sucks like heâll never get enough.
Nothing stops until the pressure inside you finally snaps. Your body seizes against his mouth, your cunt pulsing around his tongue just as you told him to fuck you with it. He doesâshoving it as deep as he can, sloppy and relentless, his nose rubbing against your clit, smelling your natural scent that makes him leak inside his pants. The combination has you crying out, thighs trembling around his head, heat spilling over his tongue as he drinks down every second of your release.
It takes everything in you to push him back, gasping, overstimulated, your body still twitching from aftershocks. He resists for a moment, groaning into your folds like heâd happily drown there, but when you tug his hair firmly, he pulls back. Thin threads of saliva and your slick joining his lips to your cunt, he stares up at you like youâre his vice, his drug.
âWaitâplease, please, again, again,â he whines with his pretty voice breaking, his face still close enough that his breath fans over your flesh.
You shift on the sofa to glance down at him properly. Heâs still moving his hips against nothing, rutting air like a desperate animal. He must be so hard it aches, but he doesnât reach for himself, doesnât even think toâhis whole world is focused between your thighs. The sight makes you chuckle, a giddy little sound of satisfaction, because youâve never seen him look so undone.
âYes,â you breathe, stroking his hair, rewarding him. âYes, you can do it again.â
The joy that breaks across his face is pure, grabbing your panties, tugging them back over your swollen cunt, covering you again. And he dives in again, pressing his mouth to the damp fabric like itâs his altar, licking and sucking through the soaked cotton as if he canât bear to let you go bare for too long.
âWeirdo,â you purr while stroking his hair and he starts giving little kisses to your puffy cunt, loving how the soaked fabric feels against his lips.
âDonât be mean,â he mumbles against you, words muffled by the constant, sloppy way his mouth keeps working over the damp fabric. The vibration of his voice only makes your thighs twitch tighter around his head.
âIâm notâŠâ you coo, tilting your head, watching him like heâs the sweetest, dirtiest thing youâve ever owned. Then, with a sly grin, you drop the bait. âYou know⊠if you come just from this, Iâd let you keep them. You could lick them whenever you want.â
You wink at him, voice dripping with tease, and the effect is instantaneous. He almost chokes on his own breath, groaning into you, eyes squeezing shut as though the promise alone might undo him. His hand jerks downward, clutching himself hard through his jeans, desperate for some kind of hold to keep from blowing too soon.
The sight of himâmouth glued to your cunt, nose pressed into the damp cotton, one hand trembling as it grips himself like a lifelineâmakes your chest tighten with wicked delight. Heâs so close, you can feel it in every frantic lick, every needy sound he pours into you.
You know it, he can definitely reach that edge, and after all, he deserves it for learning too fast.
Hellooo I just read your loser Dex works and it was divine you write him so pathetic and that's all I need. I was wondering if you could write about virgin Dex coming untouched only for a few kisses then being a total embarrassing mess for thinking he ruined the moment but we like it too much and end up giving him a handjob that makes him cry.. I love your works
pairing: benjamin poindexter x reader
18+ ! cw: f!reader, sub!dex, handjob, dacryphilia, overstim, bit of degradation, alcohol consumption, implied age gap (heâs older), accidentally calling dex kid?? (wc: 2.4k)
a/n: urghk i live for tormenting this man đ”âđ«đ”âđ« thank you for the request! masterlist
The bottle was sweating in your hand. Dex saw the rim catch by your teeth, a lazy bite with some abrasion that was making something in his stomach turn over. Had it been an hour since youâd invited him up? Two? It didnât matter. His mind felt stretched thin as he watched you get drunker by the minute, your eyes turning dark in the low light of the apartment. Playing the part of the polite guest, heâd taken off his jacket and loosened his collar. Waiting for instruction, he was perched now on the edge of your couch, as if proximity to you alone might make him combust.Â
His glass sat on the table beside him, untouched and gleaming.
âI thought you said youâd have one,â you said, twirling your bottle by the neck.
âYou said you were going to get drunk. I said Iâd keep you from doing anything stupid.â
âOh, stupid now, am I?â Â
You watched in amusement as his practiced smile faltered, the worried little notch by his brow carving itself deeper. His eyes flicked towards your legs, which were heat-glossed with drink, and now nearly bare due to the hem of your dress riding up. Then back to your face, a bit too late. Your smirk told him youâd seen everything.
âFeeling nervous, Dex?â
âIâm not nervous.â
âYou look nervous.â
âIâm not.â
âMm,â you sighed, long and luxuriant, leaning into the space between you until your knees brushed his. Your face was hot with a pleasant buzzing in your cheeks. âItâs cute though, watching you try not to freak out.â
Dex blinked rapidly, his lashes catching the light. He gave a little half-laugh, the playful twinkle back in his eyes, and his mouth tugged up into a smile that suggested he wanted to ask what you meant.Â
âLike⊠Big, strong g-man like you,â you tilted the bottle again, watching him squirm at the compliment from the corner of your eye, âyouâve tackled worse things than me, surely. But youâre sweating like a sinner in church.â
âIâm not,â he said again, voice coming out hoarse. If his face was pink before, he was now positively red.Â
âNo?â You reached out and traced your fingers down his forearm. All casual like, your nails running across the pale hairs. âSo what would happen if I asked to kiss you?â
He swallowed, lips parting then closing, and when he looked at you his pupils were dilated wide, a slim ring of hazel around pure black. He was scrambling for something suave to say, something charming and effortless that would keep you looking at him like this. But nothing came out. You perplexed him constantly, and he could barely think, let alone speak. For a heartbeat you were sure heâd bolt instead, but then he gave the barest nod.
You leaned in until your mouth slanted against his. He made a sound, a soft noise, and kissed back andâŠ
Well, it was bad, honestly.
He knew it was bad. His lips were dry and stiff against yours. You pulled back and giggled at the face he was makingâeyes screwed shut, brows drawn tight like he was waiting for it to hurt. So you kissed him again and finally it clicked, andâ and it was phenomenal. This time your tongue slid into his mouth warmly, tasting faint salt and breath mint. Swiping over the ridge behind his teeth and deeper, grazing the roof of his mouth and he groaned, startled at how fast the sensation shot down, thick and electric straight into his cock.Â
Dex was trying to keep up. Trying to not fuck it up. But when you pushed further, he let you, groaning at the lewd sounds of you mapping the soft places of his mouth. He didnât know what to do with his hands so they hovered, hesitant to settle for fear that if he touched you, heâd ruin the mirage that was somehow forming in front of him and youâd disappear.Â
You pulled back with a soft pop and stared at him. His lips were distractingly shiny.
âWow,â you breathed.
âWow,â he said back, dazed.
âEver been kissed like that before?â
He shook his head. âNo.â
You smiled and shifted closer, your fingers ghosting along the inside of his thigh, nails teasing just by the seam. Dex held very, very still. If he moved, even breathed a fraction offâ
âHow about this?â you murmured. âHas anyone ever touched you here?â
He exhaled sharply before responding. âNo, not really.â
âNot really?â You raised a brow, dragging your knuckles along the seam of his jeans. Right next to the outline of his hardened cock.Â
âI mean, Iâve touched myself obviously, but I havenâtââ He wanted to crawl inside himself. The conversation was getting a bit too personal for his taste, not to mention how closely you were touching him now, how pathetic his words were sounding in his own voice. Had he been reduced to this? Heâd taken so many in custody, acted decisively without mercy but now he couldnât find it in himself to regain that control, not with your scorching breath burning his skin. âBut no, no, I uhâ no oneâs, umâŠâ
âNot even a little?â
He shook his head.
You kissed him again, rougher this time, earning a gasp from him. Now he couldnât ignore the way his trapped cock throbbed in his jeans. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted subtly, trying to adjust himself without you seeingâbut the friction made it even worse, and when you put your hand on his chest, the sensation of your nails through the fabric of his shirt made him see stars. You were everywhere. The heat of your thighs against his, the unbearable awareness that there was nothing but your panties under your dress, how soft your tongue was in his mouth. The smell of your skin. Another press, the weight of your hand on his chest, and his whole body seized.
âWaitâ wait, oh fuckââ
He didnât even realize what was happening. His hips rocked up, chasing pressure and you felt the tension tremor through him. He jerked once and his head dropped back, gasping, the sensation on the inside of his thighs sharp and pulsing like the heartbeat of an insistent animal. The sinews of his neck stood out in stark relief. A long, guttural groan tore from his throat as his cock pulsed and pulsed again, the wet mess soaking into his pants in hot, sticky surges. Â
You blinked.
You looked down, then back up at him.
â...Did you justâŠ?â
âNo, Iââ
âNo, IâNo, I?â you repeated, low and amused, mimicking his stammer. âUse your words, Dex.â Swinging your thigh over his to straddle him properly, you dragged your hand down from his chest to his waistband and thumbed the silver button of his jeans. A little below it, a darkened stain was already blooming through the denim.
âLetâs try that again. If I unbutton your pants right now, am I gonna see cum or not?â
He looked at you finally, and the shame was so thick in his face his whole body was glowing red: his cheeks, the sultry skin down his throat, the tenderly pink rims of his ears. His eyes were wide and wet.
âYes,â he said, voice cracking. âI didnât mean to. Fuck, Iâm sorry, Iââ He curled in on himself, as if he wanted to physically shrink from your gaze. âIâm sorry, I should go. Youâre drunk. I donât wanna take advantage of you.â
You couldnât stop your laugh. ââTake advantageâ? Dex.â You pushed him back down by his chest, your other hand finding his jaw. Your thumb seemed to fit perfectly into the delicate indent of his cleft chin. âHonestly, do you think youâre the one in charge right now?â
He whimpered. There was absolutely no way he was in controlâclearly not of his body, certainly not of youâand there was no other way to describe it but refreshing, his mind completely clear and his body pliant, all yours to do with as you liked. Your hand caressed his thigh again, cupping the soaked, twitching bulge properly now, thumb skimming over where the fabric clung taut. Your fingers popped the button open in one deft motion, and he made a pained sound, shame and arousal tangling thick as syrup in his throat.
âWell? Do you?â
âNo,â he managed hoarsely.Â
âNo?â The zipper slid down with a slow, satisfying rasp. âThatâs more like it.â You slid a hand inside, feeling the sticky fabric of his briefs clinging to the curve of his half-hard cock while peeling the layers of obstructive cloth down. His cock sprang free, and there was a thick string of cum clinging to the tip, stretched from the slit down to the waistband. You caught it with a fingertip and smeared it lazily down the shaft.
âFuck me,â you breathed, genuinely impressed. âYou really made a mess.â
He turned his face away in shame, but his hips lifted into your touch. You curled your hand around the shaft, stroking through the mess heâd already made, and he groaned deep in his chest. Under you, his body was burning up, sweat gathering under his arms and at the small of his back. His cock twitched in your hand, completely hard again and drooling a slow bead of clear precum, as if the humiliation had been enough to get him back there.
âDid you not hear me? I said you made a mess,â you said, stroking him slow and steady, slicking it with his own cum. âDonât you have anything to say?â
âI-Iâm sorry,â he panted.
âYouâre sorry but youâre still hard.â You tightened your grip, twisting your wrist a little at the head. âYou came already, didnât you? Why are you hard again?â
âIâ I donât knowââ His head dropped back and he whimpered, biting down on his wrist. His face was contorted with pleasure. âPlease, I- I canât again so soonââ
âYeah?â You kissed the freckle on his cheekbone. âDo you want me to stop?â
âNo, noâŠâ He shook his head wildly, hiccuping a sob. He hadnât known when he started crying, but tears were spilling down his reddened cheeks as his cock twitched sensitively in your hand. âDonât stopâŠâ
You licked a tear from the corner of his mouth. It was salty and hot on your tongue.Â
âI know, I know,â you whispered, resting your forehead against his as you jacked him off between your legs. The rhythm never faltered and his cock was pulsing again, twitching under your hand. âI know itâs too much. Youâre doing so good for me. Donât fight it.â
He was trembling under you, his lashes clumped and newly dark with the wetness of his tears. You let your palm glide over the oversensitive head, gathering the slick with soft fingers. Then you dragged them back down the shaft up and down again, letting your touch circle the slit. Your head was buzzing now. The booze and lust blending. God, he was pretty like thisâthis bulky, tightly wound man youâd kissed stupid, now reduced to nothing beneath you.Â
âClose? Already?â
âIâ I canât,â his voice cracked, âthereâs nothing left, pleaseââ
You circled your thumb right under the head and he whimpered loudly, hips jerking up helplessly into your palm. His cock spasmed in your grip, a shuddering twitch that drew a few final pulses from him. Milky beads drooled pathetically from his slit, a bit less than before, thinner and wetter slicking your fingers. He was gasping, his whole body gone limp with the second release. His cock gave one last twitch, and you knew that was it: he was completely spent.
You brought your sticky fingers to your mouth and sucked them clean, nice and loud, just to watch him squirm at the sound of it. It was bitter, a little sweet.Â
âNicely done,â you said, smoothing a hand down his chest. âYou took that so well.â
Chest heaving, Dex swallowed hard, blinking up at you. The compliment was working its way into him, you could tell with how his face softened at the praise, red-rimmed eyes going hazy. You leaned forward, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, wiping away the tears that had started to itch at his cheeks. His skin was still burning, damp and hot. âIs there anything you want, baby?â
He mumbled something low under his breath, barely audible.
âLouder, Dex,â you commanded, and he tensed, his throat working as he tried to gather the courage.Â
âCan youâ can you kiss me again, please?â
His voice was so small, desperate and sweet and full of need. Afraid to even ask. You couldnât help laughing. He was so much older than you, it was absurd how he sounded so young just then, reminding you of the twitchy hesitance youâd seen from the first guy youâd ever dated, the one who came in your hand after senior prom and apologized for twenty straight minutes.
âFuckâs sake, kid.âÂ
It just slipped outâ it didnât even make any sense. His entire face went red, flinching at the word like youâd slapped him, blinking hard and looking away.
âNevermind,â he muttered.
âNo, noâ hey.â You tilted his face back toward you, cupping his jaw, thumb swiping his cheek again. âCâmere.â
You kissed him, slow and deep. His mouth moved against yours with shy, grateful eagerness, him melting into it, every tense muscle in his body finally softening.
You pet his head gently, smoothing his sweat-matted hair back from his forehead. He didnât want to move, face still red, cheeks blotchy with the drying tracks of his tears. The air between you felt molten sweet with the buzz of alcohol and the stink of sweat. His jeans were still open, boxers soaked, but none of that mattered right now.
Kissing the tip of his nose to make him smile, you murmured, âYouâre gonna be the death of me.â
You curled yourself closer into him, letting your weight settle with your palm flattened over his chest. His heartbeat felt calm. You wondered if it was as steady as it really seemed, or if your own was thudding just as loud you couldnât tell the difference.Â
You giggled into the curve of his neck. âSo, then⊠Thatâs a yes to a third date?â
Thunderbolts* @thunderboltssasterisk - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
andulkaphoto
romaincrisis
origamiaround
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
tangentwithtanner
theartofmadeline
amandla
ellievsbear
