Kilonova
Benjamin Pondexter x Reader
Chapter 1: Dormancy
An original work inspired by and following the events of "Polaris" by oopsie_dasiesx Please read that work before this one, becasue it may not make sense otherwise. I'll add the synopsis of that fic in the end notes incase you don't want to read it but I HIGHLY reccomend it.
Kilonova- an extremely powerful, luminous explosion produced by the merger of a neutron star and a black hole
CW: Dubcon, stalking, kidnapping, mental health issues, depictions of OCD, BPD, manic episodes, obsession, everyone needs therapy, everyone is lowk fucked up
Time passed differently with Dex after that night. He spared a life for you, that has to mean something, right?
It was difficult to let your guard down around him especially after his massacre at the bar (you both silently agreed to never bring it up). And deep down it’s hard for you to truly believe your presence actually has a positive impact on him; he’s a killer afterall, a damn good one at that.
But as most things do, it became more bearable with time.
His cologne doesn’t make you feel like vomiting anymore, his smile doesn’t make your spine go rigid, and sometimes you even find yourself calling him “Ben” again.
You physically feel yourself becoming less abrasive- less combative; you can feel it in the way you wake with no shoulder pain or in the way your chest doesn’t burn from holding your breath when he passes you.
Maybe you were warming up to him. Or maybe you had given up hope of returning to a life without Dex.
The latter is much more likely.
After months of this fucked up dynamic, your psyche has gaslit you into believing all hope is not lost. He can change.
He’s much more tender with you and sometimes you even find yourself enjoying his company, though it may just be the fact that you are never socialized outside of his all-consuming presence.
Some nights you still wake in a cold sweat, his arms around you feeling tighter than the handcuffs that he once bound you to this very bed with. During those times he’s learned that it's better to leave you alone than to try to comfort you.
You hate him.
You still do and always will.
It's just that your fire has burnt out.
He’s very aware of that. But he allows himself to be swept up in the fantasy- playing house.
You will learn to love him. You had feelings once, they can come back.
There are flowers on the table; lilies and orchids. You wish he had gotten you just any flower so you could be annoyed at the fact that he got them thoughtlessly- just for show. But you can’t.
Dex knows they are your favorites, he’s always known.
He noted them in the back of his mind when you made a passing comment the first time the two of you walked past the local farmers market. Back when things weren’t so complicated- when he was just “Ben”, the harmless, compassionate FBI agent who saved you from a mugging.
Sometimes the scent of the flowers makes you want to gag but you also find yourself staring at them for hours on end. How ironic that he gets you white lilies, representative of purity- something you feel he took from you. The orchids are almost worse, representing beauty, love, and strength…
At first you refused to water them, hoping they would wither and die, maybe they could find the peace that you couldn't.
He noticed your initial aversion, noting it with a slight tightening of his jaw. But instead of getting rid of them, he begins to water them after making coffee in the mornings. Another step in his curated routine.
You would get used to them and enjoy them again, you would have to- they weren’t going anywhere. Just like him.
The roof became your escape during the day, planter boxes filled with soil and seed packets he picked up for you. He pitched it as a new passion for you to explore, but you both knew it was just a task to keep you busy.
When he had shorter shifts and came back before dinnertime, he’d often head straight to the rooftop because he knew that’s where you’d be. You’d watch the pigeons that had gathered on the walls of the roof scatter at his arrival.
You never thought you’d be envious of a pigeon...
_________________________________________
He became quite comfortable in his role with Fisk; he wasn’t bound by the law but also had direction. To him it was perfect. He was able to act out his obscene urges under the guise of work.
Though, after one too many stories of him sending something through a person’s skull, you finally ask him to stop. Beg him to stop.
“Dex, just stop.” you plead, fists clenched in your lap as you blankly stare down at the plate of mixed veggies and rice you made.
You couldn’t hear this anymore. You knew what he was capable of and had seen it too. If he wanted to play pretend and keep things amicable, he couldn’t tell you these things.
“Please” your voice comes out smaller than you anticipated and you’re almost embarrassed for even asking.
Much to your surprise he doesn’t retort back, he doesn’t shout, he just nods.
You feel sick.
Why didn’t he argue? He has never seemed to take your feelings into consideration before, so why now?
A shaky sigh escapes your lips and you abruptly stand with your plate and head towards the sink to clean up. Usually you can feel his eyes boring into you from the back but there’s nothing this time. You sneak a peek at him and he’s sitting rigidly, hands clasped in front of him as he stares at the blank wall ahead of him. The air is thick with tension the rest of the night and at some point you decide you just need to be asleep.
Dex is sitting in front of his laptop, still facing the blank wall when you pass behind him, “I’m going to shower and then get into bed” you say without glancing at him.
He makes a sound of acknowledgement but before you can head to the bedroom, he reaches out and lightly caresses the inside of your wrist. You freeze.
“I won’t talk about work anymore” his voice is low and soft, he doesn’t meet your eye.
What is this?
“I’m sorry for upsetting you” he adds, rubbing his calloused thumb against your skin.
All you can muster is a noise somewhere between a hum and a choked sob before continuing into the other room.
You gently close the bathroom door, worried that if it closes too loudly that it will provoke him. In a daze, you strip down and step into the shower.
Something as simple as him agreeing to stop telling you about killing people shouldn’t feel so intimate. It should just be a common courtesy, but things are never simple with Dex.
Your mind waders as the warm water trickles down your body. You asked for something and he complied. He, the man who had stripped you of your freedom- your life- just simply stopped talking when you asked him to.
And then he apologized.
He apologized for something so small. His touch was so gentle and his words so sincere- he genuinely felt bad for “upsetting you”. Life had become too comfortable. How was it that he could muster a deephearted apology for that but not for stalking you, manipulating you, keeping you here, killing people.
None of it made sense.
He truly believes he needs you and there’s nothing you can do to change that.
___________________________________________
Days go by and the two of you eventually settle back into routine. He brews coffee for himself at 6:15 am and precisely 15 minutes before he leaves, he prepares a chai latte with a dash of cinnamon for you.
Since the day he met- well…followed you, he catalogued every drink you got. In the beginning you stuck to plain vanilla lattes with the occasional macchiato but the caffeine started to give you headaches. You tried energy drinks for a stint but didn’t like the carbonation. Eventually you settled on chai lattes and the occasional decaf coffee.
This morning is no different, he brews his pot as you lie in bed, somewhere between sleep and reality. The lingering warmth of his body against yours has begun to cool, you frown as you draw the covers closer to your chest.
You hear his footsteps as he re-enters the bedroom with his coffee in hand- odd, he usually doesn’t like bringing any drink that isn’t water into the bedroom for fear of spilling it. He stands at the foot of the bed, you can feel his eyes observing your form. He takes a sip.
No use pretending you’re asleep. You stretch and readjust yourself so that you’re lying on your side facing the edge of the bed.
The carpet in the bedroom muffles his steps and he gently places the coffee mug onto a coaster on the bedside table before adjusting the handle so that it’s 90 degrees away from him. He’s dressed in a white button down that you ironed yesterday and his normal slacks. In the darkness of the room you can’t really make out his expression so you just close your eyes again.
Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before brushing the back of his hand against your cheek.
“I’ve got a long day at work, I might be home late” he says in a hushed tone.
You nuzzle further into your pillow and hum in acknowledgement not really wanting to talk so early in the morning.
“If I'm not back by night, you can go ahead and go to bed, alright sweetheart?”.
You nod and whisper an “ok”.
Dex smiles and leans down to kiss your temple, “that’s my girl, i’ll see you later”.
You want to scream.
By the time you pull yourself out of bed, the chai is cold and the cinnamon has sunken. You loosely grab the cup and pour the drink down the drain. Out of habit you wash the cup and place it in the drying rack before walking to the couch. The area is clean and he left you a book filled with crosswords.
You rub your eyes and head back into the bedroom to change into something other than pajamas. Once you’ve changed and cleaned yourself up it’s already almost noon. Another day wasted, just like that. Should you even care anymore? Time is just a concept at this point.
You could always attempt to leave again, skip town, pick up some unnamed work and never look back. That has been a truly enticing idea. He told you himself that he won’t be home until late tonight and he doesn’t lie to you.
Sometimes you wished he would, but that’s one thing about Dex- he is always honest with you. Whether you find out by your own volition or he straight up tells you he will always tell the truth. You numbly remember the last time you tried to run, he told you exactly what would happen. You didn’t believe him..
But his truth landed on the front page of the daily newspaper.
You’re not sure how much time has passed as you watch the busy streets down below. The weather is actually pretty nice for once and your plants are doing well. Though you try to push it away, a small part of you misses Dex when he’s gone. Maybe this was part of his design the whole time, desocializing you so that you would become more dependent on him. You know it’s crazy for you to actually miss him as a person, so you continuously tell yourself that you only miss the company- the human interaction.
You do not miss Benjamin Poindexter.
You don’t.
The hours tick by and eventually you’re sitting at the counter with a cup of instant noodles you found in the back of the cabinet. The noodles bob up and down as you poke them with the disposable chopsticks Dex keeps in the utensil drawer. Soon it’s midnight and there’s no sign of him; a slight twinge of dread pools in your stomach… What if he doesn’t return?
You’re surprised at the concern that thought brings you. Not that long ago, you would have prayed for that outcome.
What would happen- Would you just leave? What if he was testing you? Maybe it’s best to stay put.
You make your way to the bedroom and begin to prepare the shower when you hear the front door click open. Dex usually announces his arrival but you don’t hear anything. You wait a beat before turning off the shower; he’s made it quite evident that he works with “bad people” (as if he isn’t one himself).
There’s really nothing in the bedroom you can use for self defense so you decide to just be very calculated in your movements. With your back to the wall, you slink through the bedroom until you can peek into the living area. The light catches on the unmistakable red suit. His back is turned but you can tell it’s him by the way his right hand shakes. The mission must not have gone as planned.
He takes a knife from the block and slings it across the room with chilling precision as it lands in the center of the fireplace’s mantle design. Suddenly you remember just who you’re at the mercy of. You watch a while longer, not wanting to come out at a bad time and get hit in the crossfire of whatever was going on in his head.
Suddenly items go flying as he rips off the red mask; he’s completely feral. You’re frozen in fear, is this it? Did he finally snap? You shut your eyes and grapple with the fact that today might have been your last day alive. There is quite literally a homicidal maniac in the other room who could kill you with no effort at all.
The noises in the other room die down and the rigidness in your shoulders dissolves just a little. Turning your head to get a better view, you see the silhouette of Dex propped up against a wall on the wall farthest from you. His head is in his hands and his whole body moves with each panicked breath he takes.
Slowly, you open the door all the way and cautiously make your way towards him. The closer you get the louder his shaky breaths sound; his whole body is trembling and you can’t help but pity him. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy after all he’s done but he looks so scared, so small.
His head stays down as you approach him; you call his name gently before daring to touch him. His eyes are bloodshot and teary when he finally lifts his face to meet yours; there are so many cuts on his face and a large bruise has already begun forming on his left cheekbone.
Involuntarily your brows scrunch together as you kneel down to his level. His hands are still trembling as he tries to communicate with you.
“I-I… The c.. I did it again” he sputters as his eyes nervously dart across your face.
No further explanation needed, he killed more people. You can tell by the way he hugs himself tightly like a child; he hated letting you down.
Your heart twists.
It takes everything in you not to ask him to kill you too- how are you supposed to tell him that everything is alright when he’s killing people?! How are you supposed to guide him when it never helps?
“I know, Dex,” you say quietly.
His eyes widened, maybe he was expecting you to yell at him, tell him to be better… but you just acknowledged it. Were you giving up on him?
“I- I’m sorry” he chokes out as his hands uncontrollably shake.
Taking a deep breath you place your palms out to him; he looks confused as he shifts his gaze between you and your hands.
“Ben” you say softly.
His mouth opens at that.
You swallow hard, he kept you here because he believed you could help him. Maybe you needed to try a different approach.
“Give me your hands”.
Without looking away from you, he reluctantly stretches out his hands to yours as if you are the one who he is afraid of. Once he feels the warmth of your palms, he exhales deeply and his whole body seems to relax just a little. Though his breathing is still off.
“Breathe with me, alright? One… Two…” you lead and he follows.
Soon enough he gains his footing and rests his head against the wall. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both digesting everything that’s occurred.
“You stayed,” he says quietly.
His statement makes you want to cry.
“I did”.
***
A/N: So if you didn't read the other story, basically Dex acted innocent towards the reader but then they fin out that he was actually stalking them and the whole dynamic between them is fucked up becuase dex keeps tham basically as prisoner and theres genuinely no escape. But its complicated because there is genuine care somewhere in there.
Literally couldn’t help myself… the next chapter is ready so long and I’m still writing it hahah
