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IM INTRODUCING SUB TOP DEX

Domming a good boy while he's on top in missionary?

Pulling his hair and grabbing his hip, stopping him from going further than the tip

The eye contact as he whines and asks to feel you

The face he makes after you tell him to beg

Watching him break as you finally let him show you just how desperate he is

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Hickeys? Hot. Bite marks? Hotter. The imprint of my hands left on your wrists after pinning them so hard that it looks like a burn? Fucking perfect.

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Dex be like

Starting a fight just to end up being fucked into submission 🖤

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Sooooooooooo…. Dex was in the army at 18 around the same time Frank was in the marines and all active duty was deployed to the Middle East ….BPD baby Dex without his meds in a war zone , comes home to work social work and join the FBI …. He’s always so scared of losing it …don’t think of how scared Dex was in prison as ex law enforcement in general population

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he gives me frat boy energy but fuuuuuuuuucckkk he’s so fine

[hnkaa]

Hellooo I just read your loser Dex works and it was divine you write him so pathetic and that's all I need. I was wondering if you could write about virgin Dex coming untouched only for a few kisses then being a total embarrassing mess for thinking he ruined the moment but we like it too much and end up giving him a handjob that makes him cry.. I love your works

pairing: benjamin poindexter x reader

18+ ! cw: f!reader, sub!dex, handjob, dacryphilia, overstim, bit of degradation, alcohol consumption, implied age gap (he’s older), accidentally calling dex kid?? (wc: 2.4k)

a/n: urghk i live for tormenting this man 😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank you for the request! masterlist

The bottle was sweating in your hand. Dex saw the rim catch by your teeth, a lazy bite with some abrasion that was making something in his stomach turn over. Had it been an hour since you’d invited him up? Two? It didn’t matter. His mind felt stretched thin as he watched you get drunker by the minute, your eyes turning dark in the low light of the apartment. Playing the part of the polite guest, he’d taken off his jacket and loosened his collar. Waiting for instruction, he was perched now on the edge of your couch, as if proximity to you alone might make him combust. 

His glass sat on the table beside him, untouched and gleaming.

“I thought you said you’d have one,” you said, twirling your bottle by the neck.

“You said you were going to get drunk. I said I’d keep you from doing anything stupid.”

“Oh, stupid now, am I?”  

You watched in amusement as his practiced smile faltered, the worried little notch by his brow carving itself deeper. His eyes flicked towards your legs, which were heat-glossed with drink, and now nearly bare due to the hem of your dress riding up. Then back to your face, a bit too late. Your smirk told him you’d seen everything.

“Feeling nervous, Dex?”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You look nervous.”

“I’m not.”

“Mm,” you sighed, long and luxuriant, leaning into the space between you until your knees brushed his. Your face was hot with a pleasant buzzing in your cheeks. “It’s cute though, watching you try not to freak out.”

Dex blinked rapidly, his lashes catching the light. He gave a little half-laugh, the playful twinkle back in his eyes, and his mouth tugged up into a smile that suggested he wanted to ask what you meant. 

“Like… Big, strong g-man like you,” you tilted the bottle again, watching him squirm at the compliment from the corner of your eye, “you’ve tackled worse things than me, surely. But you’re sweating like a sinner in church.”

“I’m not,” he said again, voice coming out hoarse. If his face was pink before, he was now positively red. 

“No?” You reached out and traced your fingers down his forearm. All casual like, your nails running across the pale hairs. “So what would happen if I asked to kiss you?”

He swallowed, lips parting then closing, and when he looked at you his pupils were dilated wide, a slim ring of hazel around pure black. He was scrambling for something suave to say, something charming and effortless that would keep you looking at him like this. But nothing came out. You perplexed him constantly, and he could barely think, let alone speak. For a heartbeat you were sure he’d bolt instead, but then he gave the barest nod.

You leaned in until your mouth slanted against his. He made a sound, a soft noise, and kissed back and…

Well, it was bad, honestly.

He knew it was bad. His lips were dry and stiff against yours. You pulled back and giggled at the face he was making–eyes screwed shut, brows drawn tight like he was waiting for it to hurt. So you kissed him again and finally it clicked, and– and it was phenomenal. This time your tongue slid into his mouth warmly, tasting faint salt and breath mint. Swiping over the ridge behind his teeth and deeper, grazing the roof of his mouth and he groaned, startled at how fast the sensation shot down, thick and electric straight into his cock. 

Dex was trying to keep up. Trying to not fuck it up. But when you pushed further, he let you, groaning at the lewd sounds of you mapping the soft places of his mouth. He didn’t know what to do with his hands so they hovered, hesitant to settle for fear that if he touched you, he’d ruin the mirage that was somehow forming in front of him and you’d disappear. 

You pulled back with a soft pop and stared at him. His lips were distractingly shiny.

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Wow,” he said back, dazed.

“Ever been kissed like that before?”

He shook his head. “No.”

You smiled and shifted closer, your fingers ghosting along the inside of his thigh, nails teasing just by the seam. Dex held very, very still. If he moved, even breathed a fraction off–

“How about this?” you murmured. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”

He exhaled sharply before responding. “No, not really.”

“Not really?” You raised a brow, dragging your knuckles along the seam of his jeans. Right next to the outline of his hardened cock. 

“I mean, I’ve touched myself obviously, but I haven’t–” He wanted to crawl inside himself. The conversation was getting a bit too personal for his taste, not to mention how closely you were touching him now, how pathetic his words were sounding in his own voice. Had he been reduced to this? He’d taken so many in custody, acted decisively without mercy but now he couldn’t find it in himself to regain that control, not with your scorching breath burning his skin. “But no, no, I uh– no one’s, um…”

“Not even a little?”

He shook his head.

You kissed him again, rougher this time, earning a gasp from him. Now he couldn’t ignore the way his trapped cock throbbed in his jeans. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted subtly, trying to adjust himself without you seeing—but the friction made it even worse, and when you put your hand on his chest, the sensation of your nails through the fabric of his shirt made him see stars. You were everywhere. The heat of your thighs against his, the unbearable awareness that there was nothing but your panties under your dress, how soft your tongue was in his mouth. The smell of your skin. Another press, the weight of your hand on his chest, and his whole body seized.

“Wait– wait, oh fuck–”

He didn’t even realize what was happening. His hips rocked up, chasing pressure and you felt the tension tremor through him. He jerked once and his head dropped back, gasping, the sensation on the inside of his thighs sharp and pulsing like the heartbeat of an insistent animal. The sinews of his neck stood out in stark relief. A long, guttural groan tore from his throat as his cock pulsed and pulsed again, the wet mess soaking into his pants in hot, sticky surges.  

You blinked.

You looked down, then back up at him.

“...Did you just…?”

“No, I–”

“No, I–No, I?” you repeated, low and amused, mimicking his stammer. “Use your words, Dex.” Swinging your thigh over his to straddle him properly, you dragged your hand down from his chest to his waistband and thumbed the silver button of his jeans. A little below it, a darkened stain was already blooming through the denim.

“Let’s try that again. If I unbutton your pants right now, am I gonna see cum or not?”

He looked at you finally, and the shame was so thick in his face his whole body was glowing red: his cheeks, the sultry skin down his throat, the tenderly pink rims of his ears. His eyes were wide and wet.

“Yes,” he said, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to. Fuck, I’m sorry, I—” He curled in on himself, as if he wanted to physically shrink from your gaze. “I’m sorry, I should go. You’re drunk. I don’t wanna take advantage of you.”

You couldn’t stop your laugh. “‘Take advantage’? Dex.” You pushed him back down by his chest, your other hand finding his jaw. Your thumb seemed to fit perfectly into the delicate indent of his cleft chin. “Honestly, do you think you’re the one in charge right now?”

He whimpered. There was absolutely no way he was in control—clearly not of his body, certainly not of you—and there was no other way to describe it but refreshing, his mind completely clear and his body pliant, all yours to do with as you liked. Your hand caressed his thigh again, cupping the soaked, twitching bulge properly now, thumb skimming over where the fabric clung taut. Your fingers popped the button open in one deft motion, and he made a pained sound, shame and arousal tangling thick as syrup in his throat.

“Well? Do you?”

“No,” he managed hoarsely. 

“No?” The zipper slid down with a slow, satisfying rasp. “That’s more like it.” You slid a hand inside, feeling the sticky fabric of his briefs clinging to the curve of his half-hard cock while peeling the layers of obstructive cloth down. His cock sprang free, and there was a thick string of cum clinging to the tip, stretched from the slit down to the waistband. You caught it with a fingertip and smeared it lazily down the shaft.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, genuinely impressed. “You really made a mess.”

He turned his face away in shame, but his hips lifted into your touch. You curled your hand around the shaft, stroking through the mess he’d already made, and he groaned deep in his chest. Under you, his body was burning up, sweat gathering under his arms and at the small of his back. His cock twitched in your hand, completely hard again and drooling a slow bead of clear precum, as if the humiliation had been enough to get him back there.

“Did you not hear me? I said you made a mess,” you said, stroking him slow and steady, slicking it with his own cum. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he panted.

“You’re sorry but you’re still hard.” You tightened your grip, twisting your wrist a little at the head. “You came already, didn’t you? Why are you hard again?”

“I– I don’t know–” His head dropped back and he whimpered, biting down on his wrist. His face was contorted with pleasure. “Please, I- I can’t again so soon–”

“Yeah?” You kissed the freckle on his cheekbone. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no…” He shook his head wildly, hiccuping a sob. He hadn’t known when he started crying, but tears were spilling down his reddened cheeks as his cock twitched sensitively in your hand. “Don’t stop…”

You licked a tear from the corner of his mouth. It was salty and hot on your tongue. 

“I know, I know,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his as you jacked him off between your legs. The rhythm never faltered and his cock was pulsing again, twitching under your hand. “I know it’s too much. You’re doing so good for me. Don’t fight it.”

He was trembling under you, his lashes clumped and newly dark with the wetness of his tears. You let your palm glide over the oversensitive head, gathering the slick with soft fingers. Then you dragged them back down the shaft up and down again, letting your touch circle the slit. Your head was buzzing now. The booze and lust blending. God, he was pretty like this—this bulky, tightly wound man you’d kissed stupid, now reduced to nothing beneath you. 

“Close? Already?”

“I– I can’t,” his voice cracked, “there’s nothing left, please–”

You circled your thumb right under the head and he whimpered loudly, hips jerking up helplessly into your palm. His cock spasmed in your grip, a shuddering twitch that drew a few final pulses from him. Milky beads drooled pathetically from his slit, a bit less than before, thinner and wetter slicking your fingers. He was gasping, his whole body gone limp with the second release. His cock gave one last twitch, and you knew that was it: he was completely spent.

You brought your sticky fingers to your mouth and sucked them clean, nice and loud, just to watch him squirm at the sound of it. It was bitter, a little sweet. 

“Nicely done,” you said, smoothing a hand down his chest. “You took that so well.”

Chest heaving, Dex swallowed hard, blinking up at you. The compliment was working its way into him, you could tell with how his face softened at the praise, red-rimmed eyes going hazy. You leaned forward, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, wiping away the tears that had started to itch at his cheeks. His skin was still burning, damp and hot. “Is there anything you want, baby?”

He mumbled something low under his breath, barely audible.

“Louder, Dex,” you commanded, and he tensed, his throat working as he tried to gather the courage. 

“Can you– can you kiss me again, please?”

His voice was so small, desperate and sweet and full of need. Afraid to even ask. You couldn’t help laughing. He was so much older than you, it was absurd how he sounded so young just then, reminding you of the twitchy hesitance you’d seen from the first guy you’d ever dated, the one who came in your hand after senior prom and apologized for twenty straight minutes.

“Fuck’s sake, kid.” 

It just slipped out– it didn’t even make any sense. His entire face went red, flinching at the word like you’d slapped him, blinking hard and looking away.

“Nevermind,” he muttered.

“No, no– hey.” You tilted his face back toward you, cupping his jaw, thumb swiping his cheek again. “C’mere.”

You kissed him, slow and deep. His mouth moved against yours with shy, grateful eagerness, him melting into it, every tense muscle in his body finally softening.

You pet his head gently, smoothing his sweat-matted hair back from his forehead. He didn’t want to move, face still red, cheeks blotchy with the drying tracks of his tears. The air between you felt molten sweet with the buzz of alcohol and the stink of sweat. His jeans were still open, boxers soaked, but none of that mattered right now.

Kissing the tip of his nose to make him smile, you murmured, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You curled yourself closer into him, letting your weight settle with your palm flattened over his chest. His heartbeat felt calm. You wondered if it was as steady as it really seemed, or if your own was thudding just as loud you couldn’t tell the difference. 

You giggled into the curve of his neck. “So, then… That’s a yes to a third date?”

[hnkaa]

Daredevil: Born Again (2025)

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Daredevil S03E03

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Daredevil S03E03

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Inside the Box (2013)

[hnkaa]

🥊 DARE DEVIL WORKOUT🥊

Welcome to fantasy workouts where you can train like your favorite character whether that’s for fun, an up coming con or cosplay, or just because.

This workout is inspired by daredevil and takes inspiration from Charlie Cox’s real life training for Daredevil.

This workout is good for all levels and not as intense as the black widow workout you can find on my page.

This workout focuses on a five day workout split two days fight training (boxing) and three days muscle training focusing on full body, abs, arms and glutes. Including flexibility stretches.

Workout:

Boxing: https://youtu.be/OfZFdwW322E?si=D8cWJ9gPFvwvw0K_ , https://youtu.be/7CaSOPmlLxU?si=VMs5HqMnGFgaGExd

Strength training: dumbbell full body: https://youtu.be/N05p3wToB_o?si=-HtgjUFGweyR6KFx

Abs: https://youtu.be/AvWVYgzH_f4?si=iliZxKuvvHAG6MCE

Glutes: https://youtu.be/JKFNfSvkZ-c?si=7fCDUrVa93CFrLwS

Daily stretching even on rest days: https://youtu.be/WIBXfPU27yQ?si=OStHeKZQcgpP6Y56 or https://youtu.be/Hcr6TipeWJE?si=eg9ogrWD5fcrrVqd

Nutrition:

Disclaimer: I’m not a doctor or a nutritionist if you’re struggling with food or weight loss olease consult a professional

Charlie follows a high protein high fiber diet for daredevil preparations, eating lots of grilled chicken, fish, beef and fiber rich steamed vegetables. Carbs are kept low and gained from things like buckwheat and oat meal. Healthy fats from cashews, avocados, and olive oil.

Snacks are fruit, low fat nuts and seeds, sugar free protein shakes, and energy bites like these : https://pin.it/4OWlOTlbW

Dairy is kept to a minimum as it can cause bloating and inflammation, it’s replaced with either oat, almond or cashew based dairy products all unsweetened.

You need protein to build muscle and reduce fat, LISTEN to your body and energy levels. Do not restrict yourself or you will not have energy to workout and risk serious injury and health problems.

[hnkaa]

🕷️Black widow workout🕷️

Welcome to fantasy workouts where you can train like your favorite characters, whether it’s a for an up coming cosplay, con, or for fun. If you like this I can do fashion and makeup ones as well.

There is three sections: Beginner, Intermediate, and advanced.

Disclaimer: Just because you train like a character doesn’t mean you will look like them, consult a doctor if you have trouble with your weight or health. This is not targeted at weight loss though it will follow with balanced diet and exercise.

This workout program will focus on three main point: Ballet and flexibility, fight training and muscle building.

Workout:

All of these workouts will follow a five day split with a two day rest period, work at your own pace and build up to advanced level. Ballet three times a week (Monday, Wednesday, Friday) , Fight training (Tuesday, Thursday) , Stretching (Everyday Monday through Sunday) , mobility and Pilates stretch (Saturday, Sunday)

Warm up three videos all five days, on fight training days you can skip the daisy Keech one : https://youtu.be/nn3-eoZ9Wrg?si=mf3QaSZ2FC2TDATw

Ballet three times a week: For shorter ballet videos 10 to 30 minutes do it twice. Repeat a video till you have it memorized before moving on to the next.

Beginner: https://youtu.be/yVno9VYS-ak?si=4TvFqP1OyXvzbsBs ,

https://youtu.be/ziT4ERqtS04?si=UpJ6kjVaU1PJE7Dn ,

https://youtu.be/ZSIfgTOowYk?si=Dld-qteiSpGlWg7p ,

https://youtu.be/QgPjDL7-ylY?si=-3Lmfmapuj8766cw ,

https://youtu.be/T4lsBxhdmDw?si=90HFjM5_Czh-vL_m

Intermediate: https://youtu.be/3At-r-cQ2mQ?si=uX3BiTipujppX0tB ,

https://youtu.be/GWGPOHZazgY?si=t1QlreTAv-UPzD4z ,

https://youtu.be/sffQDTAmZFI?si=UkvAqhNBHL4aNZwF ,

https://youtu.be/rYwgiLRS0-E?si=szLtMK9xtPWdf3vg ,

https://youtu.be/1IeQWvHjo_E?si=ELn8rCVCbryZBQtv

Advanced: https://youtu.be/uqdMr31D3v8?si=Qh85WmlPcPlXJ18S,

https://youtu.be/e0ZYSPR1e_s?si=HXCjdzHwX3zGxc76,

https://youtu.be/Yg6R5Ka0RY4?si=XCDapRN19ZpvmcYa ,

https://youtu.be/d9dh2Y6s2PU?si=5XRdq9gkW1VwLdnb ,

https://youtu.be/kIHp75aMjoQ?si=axjQRIAPWlA6v0qR

Fight training two times a week: one day is Mauy tai the next is Krav maga

For all levels https://youtu.be/7sLw5dHdRG4?si=vOX7jMk7zk_kj7li

Stretching!!! It’s so important for all levels to stretch twice a day before workout and after workout.

Before workout stretch your back:

B: https://youtu.be/WIBXfPU27yQ?si=bxSDJB3Vx1O9ub01

I: https://youtu.be/o1-MtpjMYVs?si=g9DFcELfZFpmFn5t

A: https://youtu.be/vBvdHOhCuvQ?si=-XQzsmZ2x8v9SFKM

Before bed stretches:

B: https://youtu.be/LnRPmGhV5a8?si=jUv-laCE6IyLBAyu

I: https://youtu.be/fuXf2zfiEYw?si=zqaw56XR0KGRleOK

A: https://youtu.be/MDsx4ii-fAk?si=FiRCzPPQtJRs9DIW

TRAIN YOUR BALANCE EVERYDAY EVEN ON REST DAYS; https://youtu.be/a1x2J-D8gK4?si=XHK1rHOt_CLJluZF

On the weekend rest days please do mobility stretches, and energizing Pilates so your body doesn’t tighten up during the rest period:

All levels mobility: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8h56eEr/

Pilates: https://youtu.be/EjlIWsikeic?si=fO3mHcto0k38Pt0E

As for diet and nutrition: eat balanced meals with protein, vegetables, and fiber. Fermented foods like cabbage and kimchi, limit dairy to a glass of milk, kefir or non fat Greek yogurt with honey.

Oatmeal, fruit, coffee, tea, water, healthy snacks like protein bars, simple mills bars, peanut butter.

Eat carbs three times a week, protein vegetables and fiber everyday.

Eat three full meals and two snacks, LISTEN to your body and what you need that day. Consult a physician if you’re struggling with eating and food.

[hnkaa]

Politicians have made it a crime to protest their actions that have caused harm to the working class that built this country that put them in office. The government will never tell you it’s fascist it will however, tell everyone else your disagreement with them is fascism

Everyday we see more and more policies and laws that silence us all around the world and the rise in violent conservatives that want to reap the benefits of Black, Indigenous and Asian people that built this country, yet want to watch us die, vote for bills that kill us and those unfortunate enough to be lower class or disabled.

America was never a land of white Promises, this is indigenous land stained with our blood and the blood of Black Americans ripped from their homes, made great by Mexican and Asian immigrants. We built this shit, now they wanna tell us we don’t belong here.

Don’t let them know peace, they don’t own this country, we do.

[hnkaa]

Red soil, blue bruises. Oval thrown White Castle overseers. False promises, dark masses.

Ship them off to a ‘farm’ come back blood red or not at all.

One cry worth 6.6 billion, drown out by eighty trillion.

Monarchy Oval throne calls its self democracy. Not bathed in gold, bathed in blood of those whose skin is made of gold, bronzite and onyx.

Your bars of gold will never be enough to save you from history, to erase those cemented into diamonds from the dust of the fallen coal.

Empires fall, yours is about due.

Your crown was stolen from gold, built by onyx and bathed in red. Your red soil and blue bruises will never make you American bred.

Fuck a response from a rapper, we want a ceasefire. You turned a blind eye to white blue and orange violating the accords to the tune of A-minors!

700 years have fallen, my crown ain’t your cap. Your reign has come to a wrap. - Nyij’adia

[hnkaa]

From 1492 to the 1960s to 2016 to 2025 Indigenous Americans (Mexican, Latino, Chicano, and Native American) and Those who have had the displeasure of being an immigrant in America have faced the same discrimination against a racist institution that calls themselves “American”. Borders and immigration status are white man paper work, their the ones who came here illegally as they so call it.

Photo credit: First slide unknow, second slide Alejandra Baïz

[hnkaa]

You can’t be Indigenous and stay silent

You can’t be Mexican and stay silent!

You can’t be Asian and stay silent!

You can’t be Middle Eastern and stay silent!

You can’t be Latino/Latina/LatinX and stay silent!

You can’t be Black and stay silent!

You can’t be LGBTQ+ and stay silent!

You can’t be Irish and stay silent!

You can’t be a good human and stay silent

Silence is violence, to stay complacent is to benefit from your privilege while the people that built all the luxuries you take part in scream for help

ICE Raids are happening right now in California they’re targeting graduations and Father’s Day events, keep talking about it!

[hnkaa]

rough sex with bloodied up dex pretty please🥺

backslide

a/n: THANK YOU FOR THIS IT’S LIKE YOU READ MY MIND!!!!!! been writing a lot of sub!dex lately so i wanted to change it up just for fun!! also, giggling drooling curling my toes at the stuff sitting in my inbox.. my summer term is starting in like a week so i wanna get as much of them in!

MDNI 18+!!! cw: dubcon, dark!dex?, mentions of blood, knifeplay, rough sex, choking/breathplay, dacryphilia, filth, emotionally unhealthy relationship ig, reader has female anatomy (wc: 1.8k)

masterlist | ao3 mirror

You don’t hear the knock, and it occurs to you too late that there probably wasn’t one. When the door swings open, you barely look up from the bed where you’re curled beneath the blanket, the lamplight casting long bruises on the walls. You don’t have to; you know it’s him. 

How it had come to this, you aren’t exactly sure. He wouldn’t answer when you begged to know where he went on nights like this and you learned, quickly, to stop asking.  To reason him out of existence was enough, you’d decided. But no mental bridging could erase him from the doorway of your bedroom with blood on him, on his mouth both dried and fresh and clotted at the corners. His shirt’s soaked through with it—someone else’s, you hope. Hands flexing at his side, crimson stains up to the knuckles. He looks a little scared right now, and more than a little scary.

“Dex,” you say.

A shadow of an expression—he looks uncomfortable—passes over his face. Sauntering forward, a silhouette separating itself from the dark, he says, “Tell me to leave.”

His smell is manly and unpleasant, and the bile climbs up your throat. Under it, impossibly, your stomach flips with intoxication. Here’s what you’re going to do, you tell yourself, you scream and beat your hands on his chest and push him away, punish him for leaving, for coming back. But in two strides, he reaches you and he’s leaning down and he’s sliding a hand under your shirt to remove it, and you let him. His palm is flat over your stomach, breathing heavily against your neck.

“I need you to tell me no,” he says, so low you strain to understand. “Say stop and I will.”

Your lips part but nothing comes out. As if in perfect perception his hand finds your ankle and he drags you forward so your hips are hanging off the mattress now, coaxing a yip out of your mouth, his body crowding you. Dex kneels, his grip on your thighs parting them decisively, and you’re met with his dirty face between your legs. Two lurid thumbs of purple under sullen eyes—you almost don’t recognize him.

“Say no,” he repeats sternly. His mouth brushes your knee, your inner thigh. Where his face and hands touch you it smears blood, then his breath finds the heat between your legs, the cotton of your white underwear damp and flimsy between you. “Tell me you don’t want this.” 

His tongue presses through the fabric, slow enough to make you squirm. “Mmh?” A hum, prompting you to speak. 

“You’re ruining my underwear,” you say lightly, a futile attempt to steer him back to softness. His grip hardens on you, and you can’t help but arch when his teeth catch the hem of your panties. You force out an answer: “I can’t. Want you–”

“No,” he growls and tugs it aside, breath sticky now against bare skin. He licks once, slow and sickeningly good—it does feel good, fuck, you’re so scared you’re not even wet yet, coiled too tight and tense—and as if to punish you further he stops and pulls back.

“I’m past saving,” he says, unfairly pretty under flaxen lashes, “so don’t try. I don’t need your pity.”

Still knelt before you, he fumbles at something at his side. You see it in the dim light—a slab of metal with serrated teeth—his knife. He presses it to your thigh and fixes it inside the seam of your panties, the metal cold and harsh against the soft, goosebumped flesh of your pelvis. His other hand grips the fabric for leverage, and it comes apart in one long, loud rrrip. The sound makes your head pound violently.

You’re completely bare under him now, your heart jackhammering against bone.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks again, voice firm like he’s reading you your rights. He drags the tip of his knife down the inside of your thigh, “Yes or no?”

“No.”

“Do you trust me?” His knife has traced all the way to your pubic mound, down, almost at your clit, touch so light it almost tickles. “Yes or no?”

Your breath catches.

“...no,” you whisper.

His smile’s a crack that fractures his face open. “That’s my girl.”

He drops the knife and stands back up, tearing his shirt off, sweat glistening over dried blood and raw skin healing badly on his torso. It must hurt all over, you can tell by the way he flinches when he scrambles at his belt, but if it’s anything to go from it only makes him meaner. Roughly, Dex shoves your thighs apart and spits once on your pussy, filthy and speckled with blood, and shoves himself in all at once with a choked sound. You scream, hands scrambling for purchase, eyes watering from the stretch. It’s dry and deep, and his hands grab your hips like he’s trying to force you deeper onto his cock.

“Dex— Dex, fuck, slow down–!”

His hands find your wrists and shove them behind your back, holding them there, pinned hard. Your legs are trembling from the shock of his depth and every thrust is mean, calculated. You don’t know when you start crying, but tears spill hot down your cheeks soon enough. “S’too rough–please, hurts, wait–”

His breath hits your cheek, licking at your tears. “Then tell me to stop.”

You shake your head. “No, don’t wanna…”

He pulls back halfway. You think, for some stupid naïve reason, that he’ll ease up—but he slams back in, hips cracking against you so hard you hear the sound before you feel it. Your scream cuts off in a choke. He does it again. Again. And then—without warning—he hooks his arms under your calves, bends you hard back on yourself, and starts fucking into you at an angle so vicious it feels like your spine might snap in half.

“F-fuck yes—” You’re barely coherent, every thrust knocking more air from your lungs, “Hurts, Dex— feels so good—”

The bed jerks, your back folding into the mattress. He’s sweaty, pouring heat, and it’s mixing with the blood on him, slicking between your bodies, smearing down your stomach, soaking into your skin. It stains your thighs, your cunt, the pristine white of your sheets now blackened with red.

Here you are, split open. Marked.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he groans as you preen at the compliment and your cunt pulsates around him, “Sweet girl like you into this kinda shit?”

He pulls at the knife at your side. “C’mon, tell me,” he says, pressing it idly on your cheek, “want me to stop, huh?”

“Mph– no, Dex, no!” you cry, brain static-white and brilliant with sensation, not even sure what it is you’re refusing, all of it bleeding together. No, don’t hurt me? No, don’t leave me?

No, don’t stop? 

He grabs your face, forcing your mouth to his in a filthy, fast kiss, tongue sliding over yours and mouth filling with blood and salt. It’s bitter and you gag a little, nose wrinkling, but it doesn’t let up. When he pulls away your face is wet, and you rub a hand blindly at your own face: sure enough, it comes up red.

“Why’d you even come back?” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours, plaintive and thin under the rasp of his breathing. “You left, you—” Fuck, you give up. “Come back, please, please.”

Buried into your neck, he grunts something that might be your name and you sob harder, nails scratching his back in raw, angry lines.

“No, gotta… hear it,” he pants, pulling back. “Need you to tell me it’s wrong.”

“It’s not, it’s not,” you wail, “want you, please, I…” His form is blurry through your tears. “I love you.”

Ding ding ding, the alarm bell in your head rings. Wrong fucking answer.

His face twists into a disgusted expression.

“Poor… fuckin’… angel,” he laughs dryly, every word punctuated by a snap of his hips deeper into you. His voice is clear and rough, that signature all-American brutality rasping through every word. “You would’ve taken me as I was, huh?”

You try to nod. Another thrust, harder, crueler.

“I fucked it up, didn’t I?”

His hand closes around your throat, thumbing the thickness of the muscle there until your whimpers cut off. You try to croak something out—“Please”—and it occurs to you, by the hot flash of his gaze, that the disgust is for himself, for the parts of him you still deem worthy of kindness. He’s thrown it all away for the native urge of violence, and he knows he can’t go back. 

“Fucked it up and you’re still here.”

I love you.

Stupid, stupid girl you are—you still want him.

He’s so large and overwhelming, his weight crushing so heavily above you that your world narrows to just his face, his sordid half-smile. You can’t breathe. Your cunt pulses around him. 

Sweat’s stinging his open cuts, pain fueling him more as his hips slam down into you, soaked in blood and slick. You’re boneless under him, your arms pinned useless at your sides. Flinching with every thrust, you can feel the raw flexing of his muscles, and the gravity of his body is drawing tighter like a bowstring about to snap.

“Too good for me,” he’s saying trance-like as he fucks you, breath hot against your temple, “so good, so good…”

And fuck, it’s too much and he’s so heavy on top of you, folded underneath him, immense pressure into your core. You feel it first in the clenching of your stomach and further down then up, up—everything going blinding, shuddering, your used pussy contracting around him as you come hard and helpless.

He moans—ragged, cursing breathlessly—and then he’s coming too, cock pulsing thick and hot as he spills inside you, still fucking through it like he can’t stop, won’t, not until he’s scraped himself raw against you.

Your legs ache limply as he rolls off of you. He’s breathing like an animal, collapsed next to you on the bed. After some pause his mouth presses against your temple, unsure.

It’s an alien attempt at tenderness, you know this much: This is what people do after fucking, see, I know. I’m a normal person, look, just like you.

And he’s looking down at you, your stained body, your copper-browned sheets. He could strike you across the face now, he thinks, just once, to snuff out the affection you have for him. Do you a mercy. Do you one last favor, he’s still capable of that. 

Instead, Dex says: “I don’t know why I came back here.”

It’s the most honest he’s been all night.

You turn to stare at the ceiling, feeling his spend trickle out of you. The sweat and blood’s turning tacky, the grime from his body gritting your sore limbs.

No, no, no. 

Fuck this, you’re gonna have to put your sheets in the laundry again.

a/n: fics ive written where someone comes home bloody counter: 4,, ding ding ding, i need help! was def not thinking about that vamp!dex picture while writing