I think Dex would eat you out well past over stimulation, and not even just because he’s being controlling etc etc. No, I think it’d be because he’s so lost in it. I think he’d be straight up whimpering into your pussy, hips flexing while he grinds into the bed, all pathetic and needy and just about ready to cum in his pants because he’s so drunk on the taste of you.
I think you could be crying out above him, over stimulated and near tears, hands in his hair, calling out his name and trying to squirm away and he’d had his arms hooked under your legs, meaty palms pressing down on your hips, brows furrowed while he’s groaning with each lick of your clit. Fuck he loves this, and he loves you, and he needs more.
And when he eventually comes up for air, pupils dilated, lids half closed, and you realize he has cum in pants, chin painted in your release, you’ll only soften.
“Oh baby,” You’d coo, and he’d just let his face fall against your thigh, looking dazed and utterly fucked out. You’d urge him up your torso, kiss him all sweet and messy, the taste of your cum still bitter on his tongue while you urge his sensitive cock into your soaking pussy and oh-
Dex is whining into your neck, grip tight on you while he ruts into you.
something is wrong with me for me to be so attracted to aerion and dex LMAOO
like these 2 men would make the worse partners ever realistically but i love these evil blonde men 😭
i feel you so bad on this one anon… because they are literally white, blonde haired guys who are canonically evil and being in a relationship with them would WITHOUT A DOUBT be the most toxic, red flag traumatizing situation known to man kind
warnings: slightly suggestive content but other than that literally nothing, mentions of blood and injuries
word count: 1.1k
a/n: this came to me in a vision, anyway… i’m sharing it with you… i need this loser so bad, those new ddba s3 pics of him have sent my mind into a frenzy. freak4freak
you were lounging on the bed, your skin still faintly damp from the shower. tiny beads of water clung to the nape of your neck where the spray had brushed against you.
your skin faintly smelled of that new shampoo and body lotion you had tried — the memory of dex wrapping his arms around you and inhaling your scent still freshly engraved in your mind.
“dex,” you had giggled as he all but squeezed you to himself, holding you so tight it felt like he was trying to blend your body into his own.
you raised your hands to his shoulders. he was still clad in his bullseye suit — the dark blue material feeling strangely artificial under your palms.
he smelled of sweat and dust, and you swore you’d noticed a speck of blood somewhere on him when he first came inside, though it was gone now. ever since the two of you had started dating seriously, you’d noticed he always cleaned himself up after coming back from… work. if you could even call what he did work.
he no longer came home covered in grime and someone else’s coppery, crimson blood. he knew you always worried it was his, even if most of the time it wasn’t.
but still, the heavy suit trapped his body heat, and the sweat that came with the adrenaline couldn't be helped.
“what is it?” he grumbled, noticing the way you knit your brows and tried to pull away from his grip. not that the iron embrace he had on your hips would have let you move anyway.
“you smell,” you pointed out, suppressing a laugh at his instantly irritated expression.
all he wanted to do was hold you and kiss you stupid after another successful mission, and here you were — complaining about something he couldn’t control.
“what do you want me to do?” he muttered, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck like a clingy animal. “'s not my fault.”
“benjamin,” you warned, cradling his head as he all but whined. here he was— a grown man, an infamous vigilante who had people shaking in their boots at the mere mention of his name—whining in your arms like a child. “i love you. but please, for the love of god, go shower.”
he sighed, knowing those three words were the exact key he could never resist. he melted every single time you said it, whether it was the first or the hundredth time.
and you were right… he did kind of stink.
so that was how you ended up laying on your bed in nothing but a t-shirt, waiting for him to finish. all the dirt and soot and gore of his day washing down the drain with the hot water.
the door creaked on its hinges as he stepped out, a slight mist rolling out behind him. his blonde hair was damp and ruffled where the water had undone his styling, and he had nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his hips.
you subconsciously bit your lip at the sight, your breathing stuttering at his appearance. you felt your pupils dilating as your thighs involuntarily squeezed together.
he didn't seem to notice your staring at first, intent on grabbing a shirt and a clean pair of boxers from the dresser.
you admired the hard strain of his back muscles, the perfectly sculpted slope of his shoulders and abs as he turned around, grumbling softly as he sifted through his clothes.
you scooted closer to the edge of the mattress, getting closer to where he stood. up close, he looked even more dangerous, even more gorgeous.
“you’re staring,” he pointed out, and you could hear the smug smirk in his voice.
“is it a crime for a woman to admire her boyfriend’s stunning physique?”
“stunning?” he turned around sharply, a little breathless from the massive grin spreading across his face.
he was still only sporting that towel loosely draped over his hips… if it slipped just a fraction…
“yeah,” you breathed, standing up. your fingers traced over the ridges of his abs, feeling the intense heat radiating from his skin. he tensed instantly under your touch. “stunning.”
you didn’t notice the way dex looked at you with a sudden, dark hunger — you were too caught up in admiring him.
it was one thing for him to worship you all the time, constantly repeating how much he loved you, how obsessed he was.
but it was a completely different beast when you were the one doing it, showing your raw devotion to him openly.
it did something lethal to his brain, cracking open his fragile skull and making his spine tingle right where the scar from his injury lay.
your lips parted as a quiet giggle involuntarily escaped you.
“what is it?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he suppressed the urge to shove you onto the mattress and kiss you senseless.
“you’re just so…” your brain searched for the right word. “large. like… in a really good way. it’s hot.”
his mind completely short-circuited at that, your words echoing through his skull like a broken, beautiful record player.
“i like how,” your hands dragged up to his shoulders, “how wide your shoulders are. your chest is so broad… your arms, your abs. your belly.” you spoke of him like he was the most precious thing on earth. like his body was a shrine you were destined to worship. him. “your thighs.”
him, who others feared or viewed as nothing but a monster. a murderer. a tool simply utilizable before discarding. but you… you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.
“you’ve been eating more,” you noted matter-of-factly. but before his deep rooted insecurity could surface, you cut it off. “i like that. i like you. i like how you’re…”
you grabbed his hands, pulling his massive frame closer to yours. he made a low, wrecked noise in the back of his throat, every ounce of his self-restraint faltering by the second.
“i like how you have enough muscle for the both of us,” you finally whispered, looking up into his eyes.
and all you found there was purely unfiltered love, adoration, and burning lust.
it made your heart skip a beat. your dex, looking down at you like you were the center of his universe. because to him, you absolutely were.
“you can’t just say shit like that to me…” he whispered, his large hand coming up to cup your cheek. “and expect me to act normal.”
“i never said i wanted you to be,” you shot back, and dex was immediately reminded exactly why you were his.
“show me dex…” you whispered, slipping your fingers between your bodies and carefully undoing the knot holding together the towel. “show me everything you want to do to me.”
you could feel the groan vibrating through his chest as all self-restraint perished and he pushed you towards the bed.
You told your boyfriend who was laying in your bed, no t-shirt and his hair a mess. You two had stayed the whole day home, even though he had his shift at Captain Clark’s Empire, he decided to get high with you.
“And if i don’t?” He replied teasingly while caressing your tummy and taking an inhale of his messily wrapped blunt.
“I’ll make you” you said, caressing his hair tenderly.
“C’me on pretty girl… ain’t nothing better than to have this thing in one’s mouth y’know?”
You giggled, your boyfriend was always so hard-headed sometimes.
“Although, if you gave me something better to taste..”
His hand stopped caressing your tummy and went lower, trailing his fingers up and down your exposed thighs and the hem of your dress.
“You will put that shit out?” You said, liking the idea.
“Hell yeah” he said, placing the blunt out of the bed and getting atop of you, kissing your lips gently. His mouth tasted of something sweet, apart from the bitter taste of what he was consuming earlier.
His hand kept massaging your thighs, trailing your dress up until it was placed at your hips. He was taking his time, as he always did, but you already felt yourself dripping.
His fingers slid under the waist of your panties, pulling them agonizingly slow down your legs as if he knew the anticipation was killing you.
When the fabric was completely out of you, he began to kiss your thighs, stopping at the vertex where it passed over your anxious core.
"Babe, c'mon." You begged, moving your hips towards him. He gave in to your plea, burying his face in your pussy and dragging his tongue through your slit before surrounding your clit.
You were startled by the delicious touch, letting him mistreat your lower half so that your legs now hung on his shoulders. Your back arched over the mattress while he sucked your clit and circled it with his tongue.
“Mmmph—“ he mumbled with his mouth full of your juices.
He was absolutely right; this was a better use for his mouth. You two would probably do this whenever he got high, but you would never leave his room.
“Babe that's s’good—mmph."
He quickly got pussydrunk with your moans of praise, gently nibbling on your bud before sucking it again. You planted a hand in his hair, bringing his head even closer, if that was possible. Your grip made him moan in your pussy, the vibrations ran through you while you tried not to squeeze his head with your thighs.
Feeling that you were quickly reaching the edge, he let go of one of your thighs to insert a finger into your trembling hole. Then he added a second, making you move your hips to the rhythm of the rapid movements of his fingers.
“Fuck babe! imm…imm—gonna”
Just when you were about to cum, he took his mouth away and slowed down the movements of his hand. That bastard had the smuggest smile ever.
“Gonna what? Mmm pretty girl? Think you deserve it?
"Please."
"I don't know, you were pretty mean to me, making me turn off my dutchie and didn’t even apologize”
He was joking with you and enjoying it a lot. He gave a quick turn to your clit, not enough to take you to the limit, but enough to make you breathe choppy, wanting more.
"Maybe you should beg for it."
"Babe, please, I'm so close." That wasn't enough for him since he shook his head with false disappointment.
“m’sorry m’so so sorry please please make me cum”
You leaned on his fingers, hoping that your words were enough to convince him. It was, and in an instant, with a smug smile, he was licking and sucking your pussy again, moving his fingers to what looked like the speed of lightning.
He didn't give up when you reached the climax, instead guiding you through it while your eyes rolled and you made incomprehensible noises. He continued with the abrupt rhythm until you pushed him back because of the overstimulation.
Then he slowed down until he stopped, giving your clit one last kiss that made you shrink before approaching to be face to face with you. You kissed him, tasting yourself, and all of him. That almost made you want to push his head down again. Not that he would mind.
“Ma pretty girl satisfied now?” He said, leaning to kiss on your neck.
You felt something hard grinding against your thigh, and you looked down and smiled before turning to your boyfriend, now with rosy cheeks.
"Someone’s excited too"
a/n: no use of his name because ‘Bobby’ is unmoaneable. Pussy dryer 3000. #sorrynotsorry
warnings: um mentions of murder obviously, and dex’s inability to feel any remorse ?? (but what’s new really)
word count: around 0.6k ? (short and sweet lol)
a/n: i was listening to national anthem demo by lana del rey and when that one part came on i immediately thought about him !! (he’s living in my brain)
you’re lying on your back, the plush weight of your comforter a soft sensation against your skin. your legs are a messy knot with dex’s as you trace the ridges and heavy veins across his knuckles, mentally mapping out his hands.
you can’t see his face from where your head is tucked beneath his chin, propped against the steady, rhythmic thrum of his chest. you’ve been like this for hours, drifting through conversations that feel like everything and nothing at once.
dex mostly just likes the sound of you. he’d never say it out loud, but your voice is the only thing that keeps the white noise in his head from turning into a storm. it doesn’t matter if you’re complaining about the neighbor or whispering half-formed thoughts; he’d listen to your breath if it was the last thing he ever did.
some would call that insane, but you thought it was sweet.
the thought (the question) hits you while you’re bending his fingers, rolling them over in your palm. these are the same hands that belong to bullseye. the same hands that turn ordinary items into lethal weapons.
he could pick up something as futile as a pencil and end a life with it. you wonder, suddenly, how many souls have been extinguished by this same grip. how many throats he’s crushed. how much havoc he’s wreaked.
yet those same hands treat you like you’re made of the finest glass. as if you’re the only thing benjamin poindexter hasn't been ordered to break.
you swallow hard, dropping his hands as if the heat of the realization burned you.
dex shifts immediately, his head lifting from the pillow with a sharp, wounded sort of confusion. “why’d you stop?” he asks, his voice low and slightly offended by the sudden absence of your touch.
you stay quiet, turning your neck to meet his gaze. you trace the furrow in his brow, the genuine panic flickering in his dark eyes.
“did i do something—”
“dex,” you cut him off, shifting until you’re sitting up, adjusting your weight on his lap. “can i ask you something?”
“… sure.” he responds, though his tone is guarded, tight with the suspicion that he might not like what comes next.
“would you kill for me one day?” the question seeps out before you can second-guess the sheer madness of it.
“yes. of course.” the answer comes too fast. no hesitation. absolutely no moral friction.
it makes your stomach flip— the terrifyingly beautiful certainty of it.
“but why are you asking me this? has someone—” he sits up fully now, a predatory edge sharpening his movements as he looks for a target that isn't there.
“like, you would genuinely… unalive a man for me?” you press on, needing to hear the depths of it.
“a man, a woman, a child,” he says, staring at you without blinking. “anyone.” he says it like he’s reciting a law of nature. as if it’s the most natural thing in his world. to extinguish a life for the sake of yours. like it’s not even something up for argument.
“oh…” you breathe out, the word caught in your throat.
“why? has someone threatened you? do i need to take care of—”
“thank you.” you finally manage let out, cutting off his bewildered inquiries.
“thank you?”
“yeah… i think that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” you hum, sinking back onto his chest as you press a kiss to his cheek. finally content now that you’ve seen the darkness he keeps reserved for your protection.
he sighs, though you know he isn't truly annoyed. not with you. never with you.
he lets his body go heavy again, reluctantly laying back down. “you’re insane…”
“hey, i’m not the one who said they’d kill a person.”
“true.” he shrugs, his fingers finding the small of your back. “but i would. for you.”
“i meant it.” he adds, more forcefully this time, tightening his grip on your body as if to accentuate his point.
“i know…” and perhaps that is what should scare you the most.
The second he settles between your thighs, he’s already losing himself in it. Slow at first, like he wants to savor you properly. Open-mouthed kisses pressed against your inner thighs, his hands spreading you apart while he drags his tongue over your clit with a low sound in the back of his throat that almost sounds frustrated. Like no matter how many times he has you like this, it’ll never be enough.
And the worst part? He acts like he’s the one being spoiled. Every little reaction from you only makes him greedier. The twitch of your legs, the way your fingers slide into his hair, the breathy little noises you try to swallow down. He pays attention to all of it like he’s studying something important.
When you finally come apart for him, he doesn’t rush through it. Doesn’t pull away the second your body starts shaking. He stays there through every tremble, every pulse, drinking you in like he’s addicted to the taste of you specifically.
By the time he finally sits back, he doesn’t wipe his face immediately. He just licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste, eyes half-lidded like he’s high. His mouth is swollen and shining with your slick, lips parted slightly as his eyes stay on you the entire time, heavy and dark and still wanting.
You linger on him for hours afterward. He’ll be sitting in meetings, thumb pressed against his bottom lip while his mind drifts somewhere dangerous. Driving home with one hand tight around the steering wheel because he swears he can still smell you on his skin. Somebody will ask him a question, and he’ll blink like he’s just been dragged back into reality, thoughts still caught somewhere between your thighs.
It gets worse when the taste starts fading. He grows restless with it. Impatient. Checking the time too often, replying to messages too fast, already halfway gone mentally before the day’s even over. And the second he gets home, it’s more than obvious.
His bag barely hits the floor before his hands are on you, pulling you close with this urgency that makes your stomach flip. “C’mere,” he mutters, already guiding you backward, pulling your panties to the side. Like he’s been thinking about this all day. Like he’s been craving you all day. “Missed this,” he groans against your soaked folds, already licking into you again. “Been tasting you on my tongue all fucking day.”
With his face against your pussy with a groan that sounds almost relieved, you realize something that makes heat crawl up your spine. He could have anything he wants. Anything. But somehow, he keeps coming back to this like it’s the only thing in the world capable of satisfying him. Because the truth is simple: Once he’s had your pussy on his mouth, nothing else ever tastes the same.
....shane chasing reader through the woods?? shes even dressed in a cutieful fawn outfit!! >-< (i got one from angelruche always feeling like a real bambi when i wear it)
In a cute little fawn outfit..omg
maybe you and shane had just had an argument, lots of shared shouting and slamming doors in his cabin that just resulted in you leaving in your skimpy little dress and fluffy white boots. grabbing your faux deer coat that always rested on his coat rack on your way out the door.
you made your way from the patio stairs to the ground while securing the fawn coat on your skin until you heard the back door slam open behind you, shane shouting for you to come back here.
you only yell back, “no! just leave me alone shane!”, turning on your heels to head into the backyard that leads to the woods. you really didn't plan to go far, just wanted to get your mind off things. shanes harmless threats had you speed walking with a harsh frown plastered on your face further and further into the wilderness, the wind blowing past you, cold tickling at your bare legs.
you had about a minute of peace until you heard the footsteps of shanes boots behind you, gradually getting faster and causing you to run. you were dodging the trees and bushes in front of you, legs going faster faster while you heeded whatever it was shane was shouting at you. It was also the end of the day and getting darker the more you ran..
“I know these woods better than you sweetheart you better come back here.” shane demanded, his voice deep and commanding.
but you kept running from him, the night chills contrasting from the direction you were going in, you were panting as you tried to outsmart him and run in a zig zag pattern. shane was only chuckling as he stopped running directly behind you, only a whole minute later of jogging did you realize the older man's footsteps weren't crunching the leaves on the floor or chasing after you.
you stopped for a moment and listened, trying to hear for something in the bushes maybe, looking at the trees to see if he was hiding behind them like he usually does when hunting.
but you heard nothing. only the wooshes of wind, seeing the calming moonlight shining down into the woods.
as scary as it usually is to be in the wilderness alone this was exactly what you needed, some quiet just for a moment.
you were standing there all pretty and just breathing in and out the fresh air u til you would decide to go back to the cabin, you were fiddling with the fluffy fabric of your jacket until you heard a leaf crack on the ground.
you’re quick to turn around until you’re caught in shane’s grasp :( his big hands covering your mouth as you muffle a scream, you kick your legs up to try and escape but the older man doesn’t budge. “told you id catch you bambi, where did you think you were goin?” he murmured behind you, his breath brushing past your neck. you keep squirming in his arms and that just makes him coo shushes at you— waiting until you would stop resisting.
“all done? there’s my sweet girl, I don’t know why you’re always with the dramatics.. running away from me like that..”
you’re breathless as you stand still, shanes hand still covering your mouth with your feet planted at the ground after being flimsy in the air. you calmed down in your boyfriends grasp just for him to rile you up again, your eyes going wide when shane drags you to a tree near by. “you’re fine bambi, just fine s’only me.” he repeats when he sees how nervous your are.
shane manhandles you until you’re pushed up against the tree and forced to look straight at him, your fluffy jacket all messed up with dirt and pieces of bark on the back.
you go to try and push shane off until your eyes fall down to where his hands were unbuckling his jeans, it’s dark but you can still see the irritation on his face. he mumbles something under his breath about what he’s gonna do now that’s he’s caught you, and you can’t even resist because he turned you around.
your pretty face smushed on the rough bark of the tree as he pulls your arms back and ties them up in his belt, your wrists stuck together in the leather. shane pulling the hem of your dress up to your back and peeling your panties away from your pussy, whispering that he’s gonna teach you not to run away from him again :((
thinking about taking care of dunk after he’s injured… if you know what i mean…
18+ (smut, praise for dunk, riding)
he sits stiffly against the tree, bare chest shuddering with laboured breaths as your hands ghost across the tender skin of his face. your fingers, soft and warm, brush the deep purple bruise around his eye and the one blooming like a magnolia on his cheek.
his muscles are rigid, jaw working as you apply the earthy-smelling salve to the wounds on his face. he lets out a pained hiss when your thumb swipes a glob of the creamy white balm across a gash above his eyebrow.
you cradle the side of his face, cooing gently as you finish applying the salve. your lean in and plant a gentle kiss to his forehead as he sighs out your name, another shudder racking through him. the muscles in his shoulders and arms shift as his hands grip your hips; vice-like despite his obvious fatigue and the pain that riddles him.
“easy, sweet boy, nice and slow,” you whisper, your free hand roaming down his chest to palm the fat of his pectoral muscles. your thumb swipes over a nipple and he sucks in a breath. you hum a chuckle as you raise your hips, lifting yourself off his length, your pussy pulling tight around the tip. “m’trying to make you feel better, so just take it nice and slow, okay?”
dunk nods, the movement rigid. you smile as his eyes droop, and you lean in to press another kiss to his jawline as you gently sink back down. your pussy splits open around him, the wet clutch of your walls sucking him back in as you lower yourself into his lap. your thighs tense where you straddle him, and you move your hand from his face to the side of his neck, holding for stability.
dunk groans when your fingers brush the nape of his neck, and he angles his face so you can plant another kiss to the underside of his jaw. you kiss a small bruise, and he exhales through his nose, his eyes shut.
“feels good,” he whispers, hands like steel weights on your hips. you take all of him, cunt clenching tight when you bottom out. he groans softly, hoarse and gravel-strewn from the back of his throat. “oh, gods above…”
you ring your hips in a circle. one time, then two, grinding your swollen clit against the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock. there’s a reddened bruise beneath his navel, just adjacent to the trail of hair that leads down from it. you bring your hand down his pectorals, over the soft muscle of his belly until you can run your fingertips across the bruise.
dunk grumbles, but says nothing. his head leans back against the tree trunk, woods serene around him, as he guides you in grinding yourself on his cock. you lift your hips while you pet his bruise, slowly sinking back down as you gently massage the skin around it.
“my poor dunk,” you utter, the thick stretch of his cock making you a little breathless around the vowels. you whimper when the fat head nudges that perfect spot inside you, but you swallow the moan of his name that threatens to escape as you bring yourself up and down. “my poor, sweet dunk. always getting into trouble.”
“s’not trouble…” dunk mutters, mouth falling open as he grunts into the still air. his cock twitches inside you as you take him over and over, the silken walls of your pussy sliding against him—wet and warm and perfect. dunk continues, panting. “i will always defend the innocent. that is my duty.”
“i know,” you say, hand finding his chest again. you place a hand over his wildly beating heart as you lean in for another kiss. before your lips meet his though, you smile. “my big, strong boy. you’re such a good knight, aren’t you? my brave, brave boy.”
you kiss dunk then, slotting your mouth to his just as he groans at the heat in your words. he groans again when your tongue swipes across his lips, and he picks his head off the tree to get a better angle and kiss you better. heat pools low in your belly when your tongues meet, and you taste the bittersweet remnants of your homemade pain relief in the grooves of his teeth.
you lift and lower your hips, grinding on the downstroke. his cock stretches you open, your arse landing softly on the mass of his thighs, which your pussy drips onto as you take him all.
“you’re such a good boy,” you tell him, pulling out of the kiss. he licks his lips, eyelids low and pupils wide. beneath the bruising and blood, a lurid blush glows high on his cheeks as he shudders, sweat building on his brow. you coo at him softly, coaxing him towards his looming orgasm. “and does my good boy want to come?”
dunk trembles, groaning from deep in his chest. it’s your name, strewn across the pained sound with great effort, but it makes your clit swell with your heartbeat and your pussy clench tight around the thick of him. you hold onto the nape of his neck, anchoring yourself as you pick up the pace, ensuring your movements are still as gentle as possible.
mumbling something, the large man pitches a little off the tree to bury his face into the crook of your neck. he’s burning hot against you, and you feel his lips suckling on the supple skin as his hips offer up a few pathetic jerks as you take him all the way to the root. dunk’s body shakes against you, and your hand shifts to the back of his head to cradle him, threading your fingers through his hair and petting his scalp.
he spills then, his cock deep against the plug of your cervix and spreading your pussy apart as she drools around him. the noise from his throat is pained, desperate, strung across a whine as he releases inside you, seed filling you hot as you meet his orgasm with a grinding of your hips. he whimpers your name around another groan, face buried deep in your neck, as you set yourself a gruelling pace.
“ah-ha, ha, f-fuck, oh my gods,” dunk rambles, whiny around the edges as you lift then drop, lift then drop, until your knees threaten to buckle and you settle yourself into a deep grind instead. dunk gasps out when your body goes taut beneath his hold and your cunt tightens around him. “yes, yes, please—”
“dunk,” you moan as your orgasm consumes you from the inside out, your entire body shaking as you hold him to you. the tension in your lower belly quickly dissipates as your pussy pulls tight and you cream around his cock. you hold yourself upright, careful not to collapse into his aching arms. “so good, dunk… yeah, you did so well.”
he detaches himself from your neck and slides his mouth to yours, licking over your bottom teeth and groaning loudly when your tongues meet. your hand finds his face once more and you hold him tenderly as you kiss, your thumb stroking over the bruise on his cheekbone as if your touch alone could fix him.
subby!dunk is everything, and your writing is always captivating.. legit salivating i’m so glad i saved this, a treat before bed if you will 🤭 him begging help me
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