🎯

waking up late together, him abandoning his early wake up routine he once had because you're his routine. anything you do, dex wants to do. if you want to lay in until noon? guess what, he does too!

in that sense, he's kind of like a large yet adorable puppy. he follows you around, wants to be with you 24/7, wants to hold you hand, brush your hair, do anything he can do just to be with you!!!

baking with him on the weekends, him standing behind you guiding your arms as you whisk the ingredients together, holding your hips every time you move. when you tell him "dex I need to do-" he blanks you and pulls you closer, pretending not to hear you. eventually, when you get too excited and giddy, you dip your fingers in the remaining mixture and wipe it on the scar on his cheekbone, giggling as he exclaims and you try to wriggle your way out of his grip. you two end up chasing each other round the kitchen laughing loudly until he catches you in his arms and tickles you until you beg him to stop and he makes you lick the cookie dough from the side of his face.

or laying down on the couch watching movies all day in your pyjamas. buried underneath layers of blankets as dex brings cookies and warm drinks to the couch and pulls you into his lap. playing with your hair, kissing along your neck and head as he whispers to you about how much he loves lazy days.

or dex making you breakfast in the morning when you have a day off from work. letting you lay in late, kissing your head and keeping you wrapped up, moving quietly to not disturb you in your well earned sleep. he cooks you a full English breakfast, eggs, bacon, sausages, the whole works, with a glass of orange juice. he goes out to buy you a new bouquet of flowers just to put in a vase and put them on your tray with your breakfast. dex hearing you groan when you wake up, which is perfect timing because he's just finished laying out your tray, making his way into the bedroom and smiling at you. when you ask him where his breakfast is, he simply turns the tv on and gets back under the covers with you, pulling a fork from his pyjama bottoms and stealing some of your breakfast with a smirk.

or in a completely different world where you live in the suburbs of New York, owning a house with a wrap around porch and a porch swing with a garden that you tend to together. dex uses his precise skills in a healthier way as he plants the flowers to make love hearts and stars, noticing exactly when they need watering and tell you exactly when they're about to blossom. you sit on the porch swing together in the summer while dex reads to you from a book he doesn't care about but you love.

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.

he'll go down on you almost nightly if you let him, thick fingers stuffed knuckle deep inside you and curling repeatedly against that sweet spot of yours that he recently found out makes stars explode behing your eyelids, eager mouth blabbering nonsense into your pussy the whole time.

he can make you come more than three times with his tongue and fingers only—the most he has ever achieved without you threatening to pass out beneath him—and probably won't even register your tiny whimpers of "dex, that's enough" until you start kicking and pushing at his shoulders, forcing him to break away from the mess he made between your legs.

of course!! i'm writing this with ddba dex in mind :p

i can see this starting in two different ways:

either you approach him and ask to try some primal play. he's never heard of it so you give him a brief run down. the whole thing—him chasing you or hunting you, manhandling you, exhibiting his strength against you—made him smile faintly. "you're into that sort of thing, huh?" he never would've thought that you'd like or even know about such a kink, but he's more than ready to explore it with you.

or he comes to you with it. he doesn't necessarily know about the term 'primal play', but he's always enjoyed the way you squirm under him when he fucks you, so he figures he could escalate it but really making you scared of him. just pretending, of course. he tries to coax you into pretending to run away from him and be scared of him. he makes it clear that he wants to play the role of predator and make you his prey. if you're immediately up for it, great! if you seem to be apprehensive about it, he tries to be so gentle with you. "you know i'd never actually hurt you, sweet thing? we're just...trying something knew." he calms you down enough to start looking forward to it.

either way, he takes you out in hell's kitchen at dead of night. he's wearing his blue compression shirt and tactical pants, he's holstered his guns and several knives. seeing him like this in the near dark of a neighbourhood everybody knew to be riddled with crime made an unfamiliar blend of fear and arousal settle in your abdomen. you knew well enough that dex would never actually try to hurt you, just as much as you knew he could if he really wanted to. smudging the line between eroticism and terror with the most dangerous man you knew was seriously doing a number on you.

dex pulled you in for a searing kiss before stepping back and pulling his mask over his face. he said nothing and just nodded his head to the side, indicating for you to run.

you took off, not sure if you should be jogging or sprinting. you knew dex would be able to catch up to you at any pace with ease, so you didn't think about it too much. you took a few strides and turned to look over you shoulder—dex was already gone.

knowing he was now in the wind made your heart rate spike. out of genuine fear or excitement, maybe even a mix of both, you weren't sure. but you kept running.

you didn't know where to go so you just passed a block from your apartment. out of nowhere, you heard a whistling noise and the hem of your shirt was pinned to a window's wooden panel with a paperclip. dex's handiwork.

you smiled despite yourself and tried to remove it, but it was lodged in there deep. you grunted softly and tugged at the shirt in hopes of tearing it free, but the rift spread all the way to just below your sternum. your now-ruined shirt billowed in the wind as you frantically looked around in search of dex, but he was still nowhere in sight.

dex watched you from his vantage point. he chuckled lowly as he saw your head whip around before you took off running again. he passed between buildings and watched you as you advanced through the area. eventually, you stopped and leaned against a splintered wooden door to catch your breath.

he watched the rise and fall of your chest with abnormal focus. he knew you were at least a little frightened, and probably quite worn out. he watched you wipe a sheen of sweat from your upper lip before making his next move. he drew a throwing knife from his hip and flung it right by your head—three out of six inches of the blade embedded into the door mere centimetres from the side of your face.

you turned to run, but dex finally appeared in front of you. he pushed you back and crowded you against the door with a knee between your legs and a hand creeping up your waist through the slit in your shirt as he pulled the knife out from the door.

he tilted your face up to his with the tip of the knife and slipped his mask off. his smile was unlike anything you had ever seen from him before. it was self-satisfied and gratified. you knew without him telling you that he had enjoyed this little experiment far more than he thought he would. he wanted to breathe in all of your little gasps, the air that you had to labour to push out of your lungs.

he finally retracted the knife from your chin and pressed his lips to yours for only the second time that night. he hoisted your legs around his waist and carried you to an alleyway to fuck you in peace.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗