fbi!ben poindexter has this bad habit of referring to you as his. it comes off weird to outsiders, occasionally, because you obviously aren't an object to be owned; you know, though, he doesn't mean it like that. in his mind, it's an equivalent exchange—he's as much yours as you are his.
my girl, he introduces you to colleagues sometimes. my perfect baby, he breathes into the space between you at night, sweat-slicked chest pressed to yours. so good to me, for me. in the mornings, while cooking breakfast: my pretty girl sleep well? mine, mine, mine.
and then, other nights, he's begging you to say it back, pleading for you to acknowledge that he belongs to only you, pressing your hands to his neck 'til your fingers wrap around it and euphoria fills his veins and you lean down to kiss him and call him yours. when he's bored, maybe at the checkout queue in the grocery store, or waiting in his car at a red light, he presses kisses to each of your knuckles, murmuring something against them you never quite seem to catch—i'm yours. my benjamin poindexter, you say once, in passing, and he's always hated his name, but he's just so flustered, cheeks flushed the prettiest pink, and just this one time, just this once, he might be okay with it.
or he overhears you talking to your friends when he's working in the other room—he doesn't mean to, really, he's just attentive, a good boyfriend—and you say you don't know how you got so lucky; you don't deserve your beautiful boy, and his brain short-circuits, because how dare you say that first part, and what did you call him? you don't make the correlation, though, that night, when he's somehow even more devoted to you than usual, telling you how obsessed with you he is, his gorgeous, gorgeous girl. must be a little pent up, you think, but you don't know how wrong you are.
after the events of s3 you don't expect him to come home, of course not. who walks out of that?
your boyfriend, apparently. much stronger than the last time you saw him, twice as built—you don't know what to expect from ddba!dex. he's obviously different, because that shit back there changes you, and not always for the better, right?
and yes, he's still your boyfriend, whether you're single or dating someone or you have a ring on your finger—not that it matters much, because if there is someone, he'll take care of them before he comes back home to you. neither of you will have to worry about them anymore.
and you're his girl, after all; even if you're scared or horrified or disgusted by his actions, you'll find yourself completely uncaring by the end of the night, when he's holding you in a headlock, firm bicep pressing into your airway and his chest pushed up right against your back. you're in tears, overwhelmed by everything you're feeling, everything you know is wrong (he's an escaped convict, for heaven's sake), and his breathless words are low and urgent in your ear—who do you belong to, c'mon, say it, that's right, my good girl—
and maybe he's a little scared that you'll still leave him after this, maybe he's gone too far. but you're lying under him, boneless, and his arms are braced on either side of you, and you push yourself up on your elbows (with considerable effort) and say, if he's still really yours, won't he kiss you again? and he smiles the biggest he has in a while, because he knows he won—and with you, he always will.
hi im back. sorry. i hate myself too. this man will be the death of me. 0.6k words
dex always takes such good care of his things. his apartment is clean and organized: clothes ironed and displayed on hangers, kitchen cabinets sorted in alphabetical order, a rotating list of chores on a magnetic whiteboard atop his fridge. the likes. his pretty, perfect girlfriend is of no exception. he memorizes her self care rituals, restocks her used beauty products, even goes as far as to assist with them when needed. she belongs to him, and so she’s taken care of. mostly in practical ways.
for example, he organizes her undergarments by color and size. pink g-strings, pink thongs, pink briefs, pink boyshorts, followed by, purple g-strings, purple thongs, purple briefs — he’s a man of consistency. and perhaps one of the three people in the entire world who truly wash each article of clothing according to the label. she’d thrown a sequined mini dress in with her soft linens once. laundry was no longer on her chore list after that.
then, there’s the less practical ways… like the time where she stumbled and landed on all fours against the rough sidewalk. the girl might as well have been speaking an ancient form of greek, each word falling on deaf ears as her boyfriend locked the front door and stripped her naked four steps from the entrance. he’d checked for scratches and aches despite her repeatedly reassuring him that she was perfectly fine. it would have been romantic had she not shoved his hand from her hip, preventing his reaction of gripping her throat, voice heavy with the grit of effort from controlling his volume, “stay. fucking. still.”
but, it isn’t his fault. there’s only so much passion the human body can hold, and the amount of love in his body for his sweet, sweet babygirl floods from his being, completely uncontainable. he can be romantic, too. neither does all mess bother him. he isn’t off put by her drooling down her chin as he curves his cock just right every single time, or the shape of his hands against her ass. the same man whose world trembles on its axis after a tiny fall shows no hesitation in pressing his large hand against her throat, basking in the softening of her moans as she all but fades, only to release her neck in time with a slow, deep thrust. a euphoric breath in, air filling her lungs while he fills her.
he doesn’t mind every mess, no. some, like the mix of spit on their lips as he kisses her, or the sticky spots and puddles on the sheets are signs of a job well done.
Too many people characterize Dex as this dominant, macho, no one does anything to him person. And while I think that can be true in some cases. I think we should start seeing him as what he is, a pathetic, masochistic, obsessive pushover. I mean matt slamming his face against the table until he knocked out a tooth and saying "thank you" speaks for itself but also stalking Julie and then coming to her in public so she feels safe screams "I am dangerous but I'm absolutely pathetic about you"
He stalks you because he's possessive the way a dog resource guards. You are highly valuable to him and he knows if he doesn't bare his teeth you will be easily stolen from him. He's insecure as fuck and is needy and desperate and entirely pathetic. He barez his teeth, barks, he bites, but kick him and he rolls over on his back as submissive and complacent as a puppy
bear with me guys i had a dream about this during my nap after my toxicology final...
dex who would baby trap you to make sure his sweet girl never leaves him. you always tell him to "wear a condom," but he'll get you so fucked out with his tongue and fingers that before he even fucks you the only thing on your mind is dex dex dex dex dex. the next day when you're lucid, you tell him that you need a pill, so he goes out like a good boyfriend and comes back with a sugar pill! he also tracks your cycle and plans nice little dates during your ovulation so that way he has a better chance. "feel s'good baby. doing so good f'me. gonna knock you up, you like that?" you might whine and say "dex! no." but he just shushes you with a deep kiss, hips snapping against yours as you claw at his back. "shh, baby, i got you. feels too good to stop now, doesn't it?"
falling asleep with benjamin pointdexter means being held so so close to him in your shared bed, his bicep hugging at your neck as he sleeps and your ass perfectly shaped into his lap as you’re both on you’re sides. both tired from the day and just needing to lay in each others comfort.. but you need to be closer to him —you need to feel him to sleep well.
so you to turn around to face him, taping at his nose and seeing it scrunch in that cute way he does, dex will flinch but not completely wake up until he hears your voice loud enough and you’ve poked his nose enough times. “what baby what is it?” he’ll say, immediately on alert but still focusing on you. “dex I wanna feel you..” and dex knows you, he’s had too soothe you many nights so he knows what you need to fall asleep even with those few words. “yeah cmere sweetheart..” dex says, moving back to give you some space. you lift your pretty nightdress where you aren’t wearing any panties, feeling dexs hand slide from your thigh to your ass. he’s admires you in the dark for a moment just swallowing spit from waking up suddenly, but your getting impatient. “hurry..” you groan wanting nothing more than to feel dex in your tummy to drift back to sleep.
and you feel a tap on your butt, gentle but enough to know that your not supposed to rush him when he’s trying to do something for you, “none of that, be good .” and you nod back meaning you understand. since dexs behind you, he needs you to be more wet to slide in easily, taking his fingers into your mouth. your immediately sucking on them, gripping at his hands and covering him in spit. “good girl that’s enough.. thank you baby.” he says, taking them back and leaving you with a whine, sliding his hands down to your pussy.
he’s circling your hole, making it wetter as you clench around nothing, dex is kissing your back all over with a quiet hum. he pushes himself in a bit, going in little by little as you wince. “easy easy.. go back to sleep now sweet girl.” he says, fitting himself into your cunt completely. eventually you feel him in your tummy as your eyes close, huffing as you feel dexs hands hug at your waist, snuggling up to you while you both fall back asleep.
falling asleep with benjamin pointdexter means being held so so close to him in your shared bed, his bicep hugging at your neck as he sleeps and your ass perfectly shaped into his lap as you’re both on you’re sides. both tired from the day and just needing to lay in each others comfort.. but you need to be closer to him —you need to feel him to sleep well.
so you to turn around to face him, taping at his nose and seeing it scrunch in that cute way he does, dex will flinch but not completely wake up until he hears your voice loud enough and you’ve poked his nose enough times. “what baby what is it?” he’ll say, immediately on alert but still focusing on you. “dex I wanna feel you..” and dex knows you, he’s had too soothe you many nights so he knows what you need to fall asleep even with those few words. “yeah cmere sweetheart..” dex says, moving back to give you some space. you lift your pretty nightdress where you aren’t wearing any panties, feeling dexs hand slide from your thigh to your ass. he’s admires you in the dark for a moment just swallowing spit from waking up suddenly, but your getting impatient. “hurry..” you groan wanting nothing more than to feel dex in your tummy to drift back to sleep.
and you feel a tap on your butt, gentle but enough to know that your not supposed to rush him when he’s trying to do something for you, “none of that, be good .” and you nod back meaning you understand. since dexs behind you, he needs you to be more wet to slide in easily, taking his fingers into your mouth. your immediately sucking on them, gripping at his hands and covering him in spit. “good girl that’s enough.. thank you baby.” he says, taking them back and leaving you with a whine, sliding his hands down to your pussy.
he’s circling your hole, making it wetter as you clench around nothing, dex is kissing your back all over with a quiet hum. he pushes himself in a bit, going in little by little as you wince. “easy easy.. go back to sleep now sweet girl.” he says, fitting himself into your cunt completely. eventually you feel him in your tummy as your eyes close, huffing as you feel dexs hands hug at your waist, snuggling up to you while you both fall back asleep.
you’re all hazy, face to face in front of dex on your knees just breathing so unevenly and shakily. you’re all fucked out from how harsh he was being, manhandling you into every which way he wanted, every position he wanted.
dex came home from a long day and only craved to make you feel good, so good that tears would stain your cheeks and you’d be pleading for him, all to make himself feel better. and that he did, so much so that he broke you.
your thighs are so sticky, cum from you and dex dripping down your legs. making you shift uncomfortably on bed. quiet whines coming out as you look down his body with lidded eyes, batting your lashes naively as if you still wanted more. though dex knows how to deal with you like this, you often enter this state with him naturally, turning off your brain since you feel so safe with him. just not this intense unless hes really roughed you up. he’s holding you up callously by the arms to keep you at eye level just trying to get you back, “where are you at pretty girl? gonna to come back to me?”, dex keens, talking a largehand off your arm to slap your cheek, not hard but enough to make you look and focus on him.
“there she is.. you liked that? like what i do to you? so much that it made you dumb huh baby.” he’s mocking, a smile spreading across his face in amusement. and you smile back at him, “mn dex..” you sigh dreamily, gaining back some strength to jump into his hold, embracing him with your arms wrapping around his neck. “hi baby.” he retorts quickly.
you’re still naked and exposed while dex has some clothes on, semi hard dick in some sweatpants and a white beater. the different fabrics rubbing across every inch of your body. it makes you twitch and tense up in his grasp,“i know m’sorry sweetheart.” feeling him suddenly grab your ass and lift you up into his lap fully, you nuzzle into his shoulder tiredly just breathing in his scent. “did a number on on you..” he murmurs, a string praise leaving him after that, telling you how well you did for him as he lifts you up to stride to the bathroom.
18+ Big scary men who let you slap them during sex.
He’s massive beneath you — broad chest, thick arms, powerful thighs that could easily pin you down if he wanted. But right now he’s on his back, letting you ride him however you want. His hands rest on your hips, not guiding, just holding you steady as you sink down on him.
You lean forward, bracing one hand on his chest, and bring the other down hard across his cheek. The sound is sharp. His head snaps to the side with the force of it. A low, guttural groan rumbles out of his chest as he twitches hard inside you. “Fuck… do it again,” he rasps, voice wrecked.
You slap him again, harder this time, watching the way his eyes flutter and his jaw clenches. His hips buck up sharply, driving deeper into you. The sting on his cheek blooms red against his flushed skin, but he doesn’t stop you. If anything, he looks drunk on it. “Harder, baby,” he begs, voice hoarse. “I can take it.”
You ride him faster, grinding down on him while you slap him again and again. Each hit makes him groan louder, his grip on your hips tightening as he lets you use him. His eyes stay locked on yours the whole time, dark and hazy with lust.
When you finally come, clenching hard around him, you slap him one last time, right as your orgasm hits. That’s what breaks him. He groans deep and filthy, hips stuttering as he spills inside you, thick and hot, pulsing with every slap you land.
Afterward, he’s breathing hard, cheek bright red, but he pulls you down against his chest and kisses you soft and attentively. His hand strokes your back gently, almost apologetically, like he’s the one who should be sorry.
“Again next time?” he murmurs against your lips, voice still rough.
You smile and kiss the reddened mark on his cheek.
⚠︎ smut (no p in v), pet names, praising, thigh riding/dry humping, english is not my 1st language
rafe got late off work today. so, he was tired and wasn’t planning on doing anything more than being on the couch and then taking shower and going to bed. you? you had other plans.
you missed him. a lot. as soon as rafe dropped on the couch, you hopped into the living room. “hey, bunny.” he murmured. you responded by sitting on his lap.
rafe smiled, placing his hands on your hips, “missed me?” he asked and you nodded. your hands playing with the collar of his shirt. “was so lonely in here..” he tilted his head. “yeah?” you nodded again.
“ray…” you hesitated, like you wanted to ask for something and couldn’t. “y’need me?” he understood your body language. he always knew when you needed something. he knew you.
you bit your bottom lip shyly, but nodded anyway. “go on then.” nodded once towards your body. you just stared at him, confused. “m’too tired to take my clothes off, baby.” and he tilted his head. waiting.
when he saw you wouldn’t move, he used his hands on your hips to move them on his thigh, making you gasp, grabbing his shoulders. “do it yourself, bunny, go ahead.”
he kept guiding you until you found your rhythm. when he noticed you did, he let go of your hips, resting his hands on your thighs. “good girl.” he praised.
“r-rafe..” you whimpered, “keep going, you’re doing good,” he encouraged you. “can feel how wet you are through my pants, bun’.” his words just made you ride his thigh faster, chasing that release you were craving all day. “needed me that bad, hm?”
your head dropped to his shoulder, whimpering into his ear. one hand went to the back of your head as he whispered into your ear— “you got it, baby.”
his words just helped you even more, you didn’t even warn him you were coming, you just moaned and let go. he kissed the side of your head and grabbed your hips again, helping you ride through your high. “y’did so good.” he murmured against your hair. “feel better?” “mhm.” you hummed.
you turned your head slightly on his shoulder to look at his face, “still want you.” you murmured, your hand resting on his abdomen. “that’s for another time, bun’. m’too tired tonight.” and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
you were mad at him. but you were too tired to argue. besides, you just came from riding his thigh while both of you were fully clothed. oh, what kind of spell does this man have on you?
a/n : i made this at 3am a few weeks ago so it’s not great but ! when i saw that pic of drew this was what came to mind and i missed them 🙂↔️
𓂃✍︎ bf!rafe dealing with you squirming during sex . . .
summary: perhaps it was the fact that he was thrusting in a terribly fast and harsh pace, but you just couldnt seem to be able to stay still.
content: smut, dom!rafe with a lot of manhandling + talking you thru it, piv, positions change; missionary to doggystyle.
Both of your weeks ended like every sweet couples' usually do; using the last bits of your staminas just to get a satisfying release that'll clear out your heads from the long, tiring day. The word release, in this case, meaning sex till you're damn near breaking the bedframe.
That night, Rafe was being particularly rough, choosing the missionary position like he always does whenever he felt the desire to be the one 'in charge', placing wet, open-mouthed kisses around your neck while the sound of your moans fills his ear, his favorite melody.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had not only a tiring day but also a somewhat bad one, needing and chasing this satisfaction more than ever with his hips thrusting at a terrifyingly fast pace, practically slamming again and again into you while his fingers were grabbing onto your hips so tight it might even bruise your skin. His hands were a guide to your hips so you too were moving against him.
"Oh fuck... just like that..." he grunted, panting into your ear as he fasten his pace even more, your hips shoved together.
The problem isn't that you didn't like it, oh you fucking enjoyed it. Instead, the problem is the fact that you were a squirmy person, barely able to keep your limbs still as he drives his cock in and out of your pussy rapidly.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his burning skin, only to let go and grip onto the sheets instead, not even knowing what to hold onto anymore. Your back arched, hips stuttering frantically in his hold, making his control on your hips movement a tad difficult, meanwhile your toes curled with your legs restless and your head thrown back over the pillow.
A moan escapes your throat, loud and desperate, "Fu- mm.. fuck!" You gasped, "S-so fast! I... I can't- please!" You pleaded with him, your shaky hands reaching for his wrists to try and pull them off your hips.
"You can, baby... I know you can..." Rafe assured you with ragged breath, his voice incredibly calm for someone who's raging cock is pounding into you, "Shit... stop moving, can you?"
He let out a grunt, patience growing thinner with each movement you made, which then led him to grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them up above your head on the pillow.
With your hands stuck on that position, you could only arch your back and move your legs as the tip of his cock kept on hitting all the right spots to make your toes curl even more. It might just be your favorite feeling in the whole wide world.
"Stop moving around, baby..." Rafe groaned, feeling your tits pressed against his chest due to how much you were arching your back, his ears filled with your desperate, mumbled, and frantic pleas. "I know, I know... You can take it, okay? Just... ah fuck..." He whispered, ragged breath and moans of his own filled your ears.
Yet now with only one hand on your hip, it was harder to guide them to move against his when your just kept on squirming and wriggling, so much that his dick managed to slip out once. Which to Rafe, once was plenty.
Rafe let out another groan, "Goddamnit!" He took his hands off your wrists– only to flip you over onto your stomach, hands guiding your hips to be lift up to provide him with your ass in the air, "Fuck... hold on, baby..." He cooed, as if as a silent apology.
As he thrusted back into you hard and deep, his hands held your wrists behind your back tightly, the slight grin on his face showed how he was assured that now you weren't gonna move as much. Not even gonna be loud, not with your flushed face pressed against the pillow, surely.
"Ra... Rafe..." You managed to moan against the pillow, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool pooling onto the white pillow case. The position you were in had the least possibility to squirm around, only able to wiggle your fingers.
Rafe just kept on pounding into you, longing to feel those walls squeeze around him and hear the loudest and dirtiest moan leave your swollen lips, to know you were satisfied with the night just as much as he was. And while he's at it, he was still busy holding your wrists together, keeping your roaming hands still from clawing onto him.
