☆ DeeDee ☆

he gets wasted off of his gf’s pussy. utterly drunk off of it. he could be down there for hours and still not get tired of it.

dennis is truly a giver in every sense of the word (& not just sexually). sure, he likes getting sucked off, but nothing compares to the feeling of burying himself between his girl’s thighs and lapping at her until she’s trembling. it’s exhilarating providing that kind of pleasure for someone he loves so dearly.

he’ll eat pussy literally anywhere. the backseat of a car? absolutely. the kitchen? yes please. outside? as long as nobody can see. at work? he used to sleep upstairs, surely he can take a ten minute break.

Dennis Whitaker is a miniature long haired dachshund.

I have two, personally. Let me tell you, they are BRATS. They yell at you or give you big sad eyes if you stop petting them, they will act like they’re great danes instead of tiny dogs (my dad says “two dogs long, half a dog high”).

I think Dennis, when he gets comfortable with people, is a brat. We can see it with Trinity clearly (“Oh, my God. You actually like living with me, don’t you?”) and we can also see how much he likes the praise that Robby gives him.

The main grievance that people have with people comparing Dennis to a golden is that he’s so puppyish. This is solved with the dachshund idea. I’ve heard more than one story about people adopting dachshund puppies believing them to be golden puppies. They stay small and full of attitude like a puppy, even well into adulthood.

They are also extremely protective and loyal, similar to how Dennis acts around Langdon. He loves Trinity and therefore protects her, metaphorically growling and baring his teeth around Langdon.

Honestly, my best reasoning is just… look at them. That’s Dennis.

***Wyle

HE DOESSSS

“Shhh, baby, I know. I know, honey, it’s so much. You’re taking it so well, fuck, it’s so… you’re so tight. Bet you’re so wet, too, huh honey? Are you just dripping for it?” Dennis’s voice is soft, just like his hands as they roam over Robby’s body.

Robby’s basically presenting, and Dennis genuinely feels lightheaded over it. His wonderful, perfect boyfriend, lying so pretty and perfect as he’s fucked dumb. There are tears pouring down Robby’s face, and Dennis both wants to lick them and to kiss them away.

“‘S g-good? Yeah?” Robby stutters, still needing clarification. Needing to make sure he’s good, that Dennis has seen him so vulnerable and still loves him. Dennis couldn’t imagine ever not loving him.

“So good, Robs.” He stalls for a minute, making Robby whine. “Oh, I know. Poor thing.” Dennis kisses up his spine, and there’s nothing that could reassure Robby more. His baby cares. His baby loves him. His baby still wants to be his baby.

He grinds his hips, fucking shallowly. It’s a stark difference from the harsh, quick pumps that he had previously tortured Robby’s prostate with. Yet it’s no less welcome. Robby wants to make noise, but his anxiety gets the best of him again. He bites his lip, trying to be good. Of course, Dennis notices.

“No, no, sugar. Let me hear you. I wanna hear my pretty guy make all his pretty noises.” Dennis murmurs between sucking marks into the wide expanse of his lover’s back. He lets his own mouth run, not wanting to be a hypocrite.

“Next time I’m gonna have you on your back so I can see all of you. How perfect my angel is. See that cute tummy, too, hm? Wanna rub my clit on it, wanted to since I met you.” Robby cries out, cock twitching violently. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, he can’t think straight. Dennis is alternating between grinding the strap harshly into that little bundle of nerves and fucking him mercilessly, which makes Robby want to cry.

“Denny, D-Denny, can I cum? P-Please?”