( he really, really needs to stop getting so recklessly turned on while dice is at work. it’s true torment to himself. true, he could just take care of it himself but it’s so much less satisfying than having dice heavy on top of him, rolling his hips and slamming him down into the sheets.
he listens to the message a few times and defeatedly stares at the ceiling of their bedroom. so terribly rude. all of this.
what if he just edged himself until dice got home? just kept himself this painfully turned on? it’s an even more reckless thought, but from the moment he kissed dice, he started to like being reckless.
no subject
he listens to the message a few times and defeatedly stares at the ceiling of their bedroom. so terribly rude. all of this.
what if he just edged himself until dice got home? just kept himself this painfully turned on? it’s an even more reckless thought, but from the moment he kissed dice, he started to like being reckless.
with one shaky hand he finally texts back. )
Wreck me, my beautiful messiah.
( no context but hey. it’s not needed. )