-BENJAMIN POINDEXTER X READER-
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; A bit of Dex's sadism shows through despite his best efforts.
⋆ tags/warnings. benjamin poindexter x female reader. SMUT!!!! PURE PORN. im so tired of the "bullseye is innocent" crowd, that man is a SADIST, so warnings for sadism, lowkey sheltered dex, slightly rough dex, insecure dex, obsessive dex, you're his north star, he's having sex with the love of his life and lowkey doesnt know what to do, some HEINOUS things, dex is probably a virgin but knows how to use his talents during sex LMAO, swearing. i love this man, but he's such a hard character to write for. I hope i did him some justice.
♫ “What is mine, What is all mine. / Ain't a man in this world who can pull me down from my dark star. / Hold you just a little while, i'm gonna give her all my life.” Dark Star by POLICA
The low, husky baritone of his voice commands just above a whisper. There's a tense expression on his face, one of his hands brought up to hold you still. Despite the bark in his words, the hold he has on you is weak. Like a fumbling boy trying not to damage a prized vase. A prized vase he just wants to throw against a wall and break.
Two of his fingers come up to spread the lips of your pussy with a swallow. His jaw is clenched so tight it might crack. His focus is unwavering, unable to be split on anything else other than that little sensitive bud of nerves of yours.
Intrusive thoughts rear their way through his head.
Touch her. Lick her. Fuck her. Shove your fingers down her throat. Take out your cock. Line it up like a shot. Just up until the head pops past that tight little ring of hers, and she spasms like you pulled the trigger.
His thumb brushes over your swollen clit- once, feather-light- and your hips twitch involuntarily.
There it is. No guesswork. Always so easy to find. You could pinch it until she screams. You could rub it until she blacks out. You could slap it raw. You could suck it between your teeth and finger-fuck her until she twitches. He thinks and thinks and thinks.
He doesn't register your pleas at first, trying to focus. Push these thoughts out of his head. But when he does, Dex’s eyes snap up to yours, dark and fixated.
“I said. Don’t. Move.” The words come out rough, but the warning is soft, almost gentle. It's that strict familiar edge underneath that makes your stomach flip. “You’re dripping down my fingers. And I’ve barely touched you. Look at this...mess.”
He says it like he's annoyed- but he's not. Not in a million years. But he takes the opportunity to degrade you, knowing it's one of the few times he'll allow himself to. God, if only he didn't feel guilty. He wars with himself most nights.
You are his North Star. He would kill any man, any woman, any child that looked at you wrong. He protects you. And you protect him from all these...impure thoughts.
So why is it, the more time he spends with you, all he wants to do is use that perfect aim of his to fuck you out so filthy he feels sick after?
The thought sits there, ugly and heavy. Dex hates it. He hates how hard his cock is, how his fingers are already soaked past the knuckle, how his mouth is watering at the thought of destroying the only person he’s sworn to keep safe.
His thumb stays glued to your clit, pressing with that terrifying accuracy. No wasted movement. He starts rubbing tight, mean, perfect circles that make your legs jerk.
“Stop twitching,” he mutters, voice low and rough. “I told you not to move. You can’t even do that right?”
Fuck. It gets him hot, talking to you like that.
His fingers curl hard inside you, stroking that same devastating angle with machine-like precision. The wet, obscene squelching fills the room.
"Look how easy you open up for me." He scoffs, but his lips twitch into a crooked smile. His voice drops even lower. “I could aim my cock right here-” he presses viciously against your g-spot, and out comes a groan from him.
He begins to abuse the spot uncontrollably, not even looking at his fingers ramming into that perfect place. No, his eyes are all on you, his breathing heavy and his teeth gritting, fighting for some semblance of composure. To make you proud.
But you're squeezing him so tight. And you're arching into his touch. And he's fucking his North Star. The thought makes his eyebrows pull together and a ragged breath fall from his lips.
“You want me to lose it? Huh?”
His thumb rubs your clit faster, merciless and accurate. Deep down, somewhere inside him, he knows you can't answer. He knows you can't do anything to resist even if you wanted too. And he likes that.
He pushes. Harder. Rougher. He hopes you know how sorry he is for this. But he knows that it would be all a lie. How can he feel sorry, when you're trapped up against him like this?
He yanks his fingers out, flips you onto your back with rough hands, and shoves your thighs wide apart. His cock is flushed dark and leaking as he lines himself up. No more waiting. He pushes in with one rough, thick thrust, jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumps as he stretches you open.
“Don't… don’t move,” he hisses through gritted teeth, repeating, voice strained and mean. “Just take it. Take it.”
Every time you cry out, he has to close his eyes, still buried deep inside you. His intrusive thoughts tell him if he gets one more look at you, he might just give in and fuck you like the animal he really is.
