Brightflame

"mandy bought the shirt cause it was 'so her style'…"

his tongue traces the edge of your panties, and you gasp mid-sentence but keep talking.

"anyway, then we went to that new boutique downtown-"

bobby hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them aside and exposing you completely. he groans appreciatively before diving in, his tongue flat against your folds as he licks a slow, deliberate stripe up to your clit as his cock strains against his boxers.

"oh god," you breathe, your hands tangling in his hair. "t-then i found this skirt."

"mmmhmm," he mumbles against your folds, his voice muffled.

he sucks your clit into his mouth, and your hips buck involuntarily. "bobby," you moan, your train of thought completely derailing for a moment. "the skirt was…uh…was on sale."

your boyfriend releases your clit with a wet pop, his face pressed against your folds as he rubs his cheeks against you like a cat. "mmmhmm," he murmurs again, the vibrations sending electricity through you.

you whimper, trying to continue your story but failing miserably. "the-um-the skirt was…oh fuck…"

he adjusts your legs, draping them over his shoulders to get deeper access, and you cry out as his tongue plunges inside you, your grip tightening in his hair.

he's making out with your pussy now, sucking and licking and kissing like it's your mouth he's devouring. his nose bumps against your clit as he tongue-fucks you, and you're seeing stars.

he's so turned on it's obscene, the wet spot on his boxers probably growing bigger with every second.

you try to pull away, the stimulation becoming almost too much, but his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you in place. "stay right here." he mumbles against you.

"s-sorry" you whimper, trying to squirm away from his relentless mouth. "anyway," you continue, trying to focus on your story, "so mandy and i spent a-all our money at this boutique…"

he just holds you closer, his tongue working magic on your clit as he slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right.

you tug on his hair again as he sucks particularly hard on your clit, your hips bucking against his face. "w-wait m'gonna cum- bobby don't stop baby-" you gasp, your train of thought completely derailed for a moment.

he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your wetness, a smug little smile on his face. "keep talking," he says, his voice rough. "i'm listening."

you nod and continue your story as he goes back to eating you out, his tongue doing this amazing flicking thing against your clit and his fingers curling up that's making it hard to form coherent sentences. "so…um…what was i saying?"

"spent all your money-" he reminds you, his voice muffled against you.

"oh right! so-" you gasp as bobby slides a third finger inside you, "fuck, okay, maybe we can finish this story later…"

"mandy bought the shirt cause it was 'so her style'…"

his tongue traces the edge of your panties, and you gasp mid-sentence but keep talking.

"anyway, then we went to that new boutique downtown-"

bobby hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them aside and exposing you completely. he groans appreciatively before diving in, his tongue flat against your folds as he licks a slow, deliberate stripe up to your clit as his cock strains against his boxers.

"oh god," you breathe, your hands tangling in his hair. "t-then i found this skirt."

"mmmhmm," he mumbles against your folds, his voice muffled.

he sucks your clit into his mouth, and your hips buck involuntarily. "bobby," you moan, your train of thought completely derailing for a moment. "the skirt was…uh…was on sale."

your boyfriend releases your clit with a wet pop, his face pressed against your folds as he rubs his cheeks against you like a cat. "mmmhmm," he murmurs again, the vibrations sending electricity through you.

you whimper, trying to continue your story but failing miserably. "the-um-the skirt was…oh fuck…"

he adjusts your legs, draping them over his shoulders to get deeper access, and you cry out as his tongue plunges inside you, your grip tightening in his hair.

he's making out with your pussy now, sucking and licking and kissing like it's your mouth he's devouring. his nose bumps against your clit as he tongue-fucks you, and you're seeing stars.

he's so turned on it's obscene, the wet spot on his boxers probably growing bigger with every second.

you try to pull away, the stimulation becoming almost too much, but his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you in place. "stay right here." he mumbles against you.

"s-sorry" you whimper, trying to squirm away from his relentless mouth. "anyway," you continue, trying to focus on your story, "so mandy and i spent a-all our money at this boutique…"

he just holds you closer, his tongue working magic on your clit as he slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right.

you tug on his hair again as he sucks particularly hard on your clit, your hips bucking against his face. "w-wait m'gonna cum- bobby don't stop baby-" you gasp, your train of thought completely derailed for a moment.

he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your wetness, a smug little smile on his face. "keep talking," he says, his voice rough. "i'm listening."

you nod and continue your story as he goes back to eating you out, his tongue doing this amazing flicking thing against your clit and his fingers curling up that's making it hard to form coherent sentences. "so…um…what was i saying?"

"spent all your money-" he reminds you, his voice muffled against you.

"oh right! so-" you gasp as bobby slides a third finger inside you, "fuck, okay, maybe we can finish this story later…"

“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.

and showed you… he did.

©padmespetal 2026: I DO NOT APPROVE OF MY WORKS TO BE TRANSLATED OR COPIED ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION.

“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"

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.