Bullseye Era

You’ve been his sugar baby for three months.

You left his hotel room with a wallet full of cash and his number in your phone, and.. conveniently ignored his contact information for over a week. You thought about it—you really did, you thought about it for days, and then you decided to google him. Your mistake.

Matthew Murdock, Attorney at Law. A high-profile criminal defense lawyer who had defended criminals beyond your comprehension. Names you had heard in passing on the news, but you never thought to look into who their lawyer was.

And he wanted you. He had fucked you better than anyone, ruined your vibrator—and anyone else—for you. You had tried once, over the course of that week, to get off on your vibrator but Matt’s voice rang in your head, teasing you, telling you how he’d fuck you properly.

So, you threw your vibrator at the wall and decided you’d just never be sexually satisfied again.

That Saturday, you had your shift at the job you’d swore you quit after high school. It had been a disturbingly hot day, and you worked at a seafood restaurant, packing up to-go orders. And for some reason, people loved to order seafood to-go when it was hot. They also loved to not tip. Hundreds of dollars of lobster, tuna, salmon, butter, oil, clams, pasta—it drove you insane. It drove you insane to see the same thing happening to the waitresses.

You had gotten the job when you were sixteen. You hated it then, too. You hated smelling like fish, you hated being on your feet all day, and you hated how they worked you without any benefits, breaks or bonuses during the Christmas season, their busiest time of the year. But you stayed. You needed the money, you told yourself, and your day job didn’t cover more than your monthly rent. So the couple hundred bucks you did make went towards food, and emergency funds for whatever you needed throughout the month. And that’s pretty much it.

And sure, you knew you didn’t need to work there—at least this month. What Matt had given you the night you met would cover your rent, food and then some.. but you were already scheduled to work, and the idea of having actual savings thrilled you.

But tonight had been hell. Your body ached. A greasy, grimy layer of sweat and fish caked your skin. You must’ve sent out hundreds of orders, and you were perfect. You gave everyone everything they needed, had gotten food spilt on you three times, and gotten yelled at twice. And then you cleaned the entire kitchen, as was required of you, before finally counting your tips. And you came out with five dollars and eighty-two cents.

You clocked out of your shift and walked towards the subway stop you use to get home as your brain filled with static. The air had cooled significantly since you went in for your shift, and the reality of the night bit at your skin. Then, before you knew what you were doing, you took out your phone as you went down the stairs and waited for your train.

And you called Matthew.

Who had spent the past week wondering what happened to you. Why you were ignoring him.

But he wanted you to make the first move—a gentle reminder that you had all the power here. Just like he said to you before you slept with him.

He picked up immediately. No hesitation, and you wouldn’t even process that until much later. As soon as you heard his voice, you felt the tears in your eyes,

“Hey, sweetheart.” He hummed, and all you could find it in yourself to say is,

“Hi.”

A beat.

“Everything okay?”

You nodded but felt stupid immediately.

“Yeah,” You breathed out. “What are you doing tomorrow?” You wondered.

“I have church at nine,” He answered, “But I’ll be done by ten thirty. And then I’m free. What about you?”

You let out a shaky exhale.

“I don’t know.” You responded, but you did. You’d shake off the exhaustion, do your laundry and meal prep. You’re really into meal prepping because it makes living on a budget and working two jobs much easier. But you had this thought—your Matthew money was sitting in the drawer of your nightstand. Where your vibrator used to live. You could get more than just groceries for your lunches and dinners. You could go to a farmers’ market.

This idea thrilled you just as much sex with Matthew does. Maybe even more.

“Well, we could—”

“Did you mean what you said to me in the hotel room? That you’re not interested in just fucking me, but you want to hang out with me, too?”

“Yes, of course.” He answered honestly, “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you.. want to go to the farmer’s market tomorrow?”

Matt doesn’t particularly care for crowds. Nor does he care for places with intense smells. But, he does live in New York City. And he really does like you. And.. there was something about your voice that told him you just need company.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up tomorrow after church. Let’s say, ten forty-five?” He wondered.

“Sure.” Your voice shook as you agreed. “I’ll text you my address, then.”

“Please.”

A pause.

“But—”

“I have a driver.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Do you need anything else?”

Something about his words had stirred an unfamiliar uneasiness in you. Anxiety bit at you—you were almost completely alone on the train, and you still had a few stops left. But the idea of telling him that made you queasy, so you went with,

“You didn’t tell me you were a lawyer.” You said, and you listened for any signs of hesitation in his voice, but you hadn’t heard any when he said,

“Yeah, I’m a defense lawyer, but I guess you know that by now.” You found yourself smiling just a little bit.

“Can you blame me? This whole thing is weird.” you said honestly, “Besides, I bet you know everything about me.”

This is true. But mostly because of things you’ve said or done. He just knows.

“I know you’re very tired right now. I can hear it in your voice. What’s wrong?” He wondered, and you sighed softly, shaking your head.

“I just had a long day.” You confessed.

“I’m sorry, honey,” And the words wrap around you like a blanket.

“It’s okay. I’m excited to spend your money tomorrow.” And Matt just laughed.

“And nothing else?” The question was a little flirty, and you let out a scoff at the idea that he would want you, even now, covered in fishy grime.

“I’m excited to shower. I reek.” You confessed, and Matt let out a hum, having picked up on the fact that whatever happened that day, you didn’t want to talk to him about it.

“Are you teasing me?”

You shook your head,

“You’re insatiable.” But you smiled.

“Can you blame a man for trying?”

You finally got off your train, making your way up to the street. You took a look around-- about two blocks from your shitty apartment.

“Where do you live?” You wondered, and he answered easily,

“Hell’s Kitchen.” He doesn’t live far from you.

“I’m fucking starving.”

“You should get something to eat.” He said softly, and your stomach started to growl. “What do you want?”

You thought about the taste of his lips.

“Uh, Spicy Pad Thai. There’s a really good place a block from here that’s to die for.” You sighed, and suddenly there was a beep from your phone. You pulled the phone from your ear and exhaled when you saw a Venmo notification.

“How the hell did you get my Venmo?”  You wondered, and Matt laughed into the phone.

“I just put your name in. Lucky guess.” He answered honestly, and your cheeks were red.

“Thank you.”

“Well, I know you must’ve had a hard day because you didn’t fight me at all.” And you knew he was right.

“Will you stay on the phone with me until I get home?” You finally asked.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Was always his answer.

Even now, three months later.

You spent about fifty dollars the next day, and Matt didn’t even bother to pretend to let you pay. You fought him on it a couple of times, but he insisted. You brought fresh bread, fresh veggies, a jar of jam, a bagel stuffed with cream cheese, which you shared with him, and a bouquet of flowers.

And you did not sleep with him.

It was a sort of test. To see if he was being truthful when he told you how he would just hangout with you. And the way he paid attention, the way he didn’t rush you along and let you lead, it had left you to the conclusion that maybe he did care about you beyond having sex with you. And he never once asked about whatever had happened the day before that made you so upset.

And for the past three months, you’d.. very slowly gotten used to having Matt in your life. After the farmer’s market, you went home and got ready for your upcoming week. On Tuesday, Matt asked you if you wanted to go to dinner after work. You had Italian food and got a pasta dish that you weren’t sure was worth the money, and you watched as Matt tipped the waitress really well.

So you asked to see his apartment. Matt fucked you on his countertop.

Then, you and Matt were seeing each other every other day. You didn’t always sleep together, but.. most of the time you did. The two of you were insatiable, deciding to jump on the opportunity whenever you could. But you did not get much better at spending his money. You were hesitant, and deeply guilty for spending any of it. Even though he was offering it to you.

And then, he went away for a week. A business trip across the country.

He even offered to let you come with him, but you had.. laughed in his face.

“I can’t take a week off work.”

“You could quit if you wanted and I’d be okay with it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do, and that’s why you’re ridiculous.”

But to make up for not seeing you for a week, Matt had given you a neatly wrapped box and told you not to open it until he told you. And you really didn’t think a week would be a big deal. You were only hanging out with him for three months, a week without him might even be nice. You’d have alone time.

He left on Sunday, and by Wednesday, you had sent him this text—

hi. i’m sure you’re probably busy, but could you give me a call at some point after you get back to your hotel tonight?

He responded within five minutes,

Of course I can. Is everything okay?

You didn’t even know what to say to that.

yeah i just wanna catch up : )

So you waited. And waited. You got off work, made dinner, watched a movie, took a shower, and were just scrolling through your phone in bed, half asleep when he finally called. It was late in New York, a consequence of your time difference for the week.

“Hello?” You answered softly, holding the phone to your ear. Sure, you could’ve put him on speaker, but something about the sound of his voice in your ear made you swoon.

“Hi, sweetheart,” He answers back.

“Hi.” You smile. “How’s your trip?”

“Boring. Did I wake you?”

“No, I was only half asleep.” You answer honestly, “I was waiting up for your call,” and then you pause, “That makes me sound really desperate.”

Matt laughs, and there’s a bit of exhaustion in his voice.

“I feel like by now you can admit that you like me.”

“No, not really.” You smile, before sighing. “But I really wish we could have sex right now.” It was true; You had been thinking about it all day.

“Do you have the box I gave you before I left?” He wonders, and you glance at it, sitting on your bedside table.

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”

“Good, go get it and open it.” You reach over to grab the box, with your phone squished between your ear and your shoulder as you begin to open it. You’re not sure what you’re expecting but then you realize exactly what he’s gotten you and your face goes red.

“A remote control vibrator?” You scoff but immediately begin to tear it open.

“I figured it might come in handy while I’m gone.” He says softly, and you hold the silicone toy in your hand and realize—

“Wait,” you start, “I can’t find the remote,” you say, and then, you realize, “Oh.”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” The machine starts to vibrate lowly in your hand, being controlled by Matt from the other side of the country, “Oh.”

A smile appears on your face, a grin that betrays you, because your first reaction is to blurt out,

“This is stupid,” You laugh, but you’re a little turned on by the idea that Matt thought about that before he went on his trip. You’re a little turned on by the idea that Matt thinks about you even when you’re not around.

“You’re smiling.”

“Yeah, and how do you know that, Mr. Murdock?”

“I can just hear it in your voice.” It’s a talent he’s developed over the course of knowing you. The vibrator switches off in your hand, and you find yourself laying back down.

“Okay, not that I want to humor you or anything,” You start, “But if you were here..”

“I’d start by kissing you silly.” Something warm washes over you.

“And then what?”

“Are you wet right now?” By the way you shiver when you rub your thighs together, you know your answer.

“Yeah.”

“Well, then I’d probably start by dragging that toy down your torso,” You rest it on your skin, and it hums to life, on the lowest setting, “Real slow, just to tease you.”

“You would.”

“Do you know how you torture me?” He wonders aloud, “How badly I want to get back to New York and fuck that pretty mouth of yours?”

Do you know how you torture me?

You actually moan at that, and the chuckle you hear across the phone eggs you on, the vibrator snaking it’s way down your skin,

“And then, I’d rub it against your thighs,” His breath catches, and you smirk a bit as you let the vibrator massage your thighs, “Never touching where you need it the most,”

“Are you touching yourself to the thought of fucking me with this toy?”

“You’re such a brat,” he says, and you know you’re right, “Fuck, that makes me—”

“Makes you what?” You’re hanging onto every word.

“It makes me want to cum in my pants like a fucking teenager,” he practically growls, “I never should’ve agreed to go on this stupid trip, or I should’ve begged you to come with me.”

You decide to test your luck,

“You’re pathetic,” and it’s meant to be dirty talk, but he just lets out another dark chuckle into the phone,

“Don’t push your luck, kid.”

So, you don’t.

And the vibrator ticks up another level of intensity, before he continues,

“I’d press that toy right to your clit,” You take it as the order it is and press your new toy against your clit, and you’re aching, bucking your hips a bit, “C’mon baby, let me hear you,” He requests, and you let out a soft groan of pleasure, no longer biting your lip.

You just listen to the sound of him palming himself against his pants, letting out soft whimpers as you edge closer to—

And then the vibrator turns to max speed but you don’t move it away, you just let out this gasping moan,

“Ma—Fuck, Oh my god,” You whimper,

“Don’t you dare stop, honey, I’ll hang up,” and you know he will, “Just take everything I give you,” He purrs, and you let out this long whine, and it sounds almost pornographic—you’d laugh at yourself if you didn’t want to cum so damn bad.

Because with this intense setting, you’re close—closer than you have been since he fucked you in the back of his car Sunday morning. So, you follow his order, because deep down, you really do want to be good for him.

“Matt,” You whine softly, “I’m so close,” And as the words leave your mouth, the vibrator—

Completely turns off.

Your heart starts to pound as your brain attempts to catch up to what happened.

“I know,” his voice cuts through your babbles and whines, “But you have to beg, C’mon, sweetheart, beg me to let you finish,” You can hear the vague sounds of him jerking off, and you’re just a little too far gone to object, because you know if you can just get him to turn the toy back on for two minutes, you could get there.

“Please, please,” You start, “I need it so bad, please, baby, let me come, make me come,” You request, still bucking your hips a bit with the toy placed on your clit. “I’m so—so fucking close!”

Matt lets out a soft moan, and you know that sound; that is the sound of Matt when finishes. It makes your lips tip up into a smile. So, you let out one soft,

“Please?”

A beat.

And Matthew’s answer is the same as it is every time you ask him for something.

“Of course, sweetheart,” and the vibrator hums back to life. You moan softly into the phone, and the vibrator is knocked up a notch. You whimper again, and you can feel yourself getting closer.

Matt just takes a moment to listen. And he wishes he was there. He closes his eyes as he thinks about what it wouldbe like to be there, in your bed, wondering--what did you sound like without the filter of a phone? What do you smell like? God, what did you taste like? What does your heartbeat sound like right now?

You finish without any more permission, but Matt can hear it in the way you sound, the way you get louder and then quieter, catching your breath. After a moment, he asks,

“Are you still with me, honey?”

“Yeah,” you says softly. Your skin is flush, and you feel better than you have in days. You tell Matt, “I uh.. I’m gonna go clean up,” You said gently, and you put him on mute for just a minute to go and clean up—you presume he does the same. You tuck the vibrator away into your bedside table (a habit of yours.) before unmuting him and slipping under your covers. “Matt? You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” His voice is softer now. “I’ll probably go shower but I wanted to talk to you for a few more minutes. How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Satisfied.” You promised with a smile. “Thanks for calling me.”

“It’s always a pleasure to hear from you. I needed to hear your voice.” He confesses, and it makes your heart skip a bit. Your eyes are heavy.

“I didn’t want you to go on this trip either,” you confess quietly, your defenses lowered now. “I wish you were here.” You say honestly.

“I wish I was too..” He said softly, “But I owed you a new vibrator anyways.” He hums.

“You didn’t owe me anything.” You respond, but Matt scoffs.

“I like buying you things. I like when you spend my money because I know it means you’re not carrying as much stress on your shoulders. I wish you’d let me buy you more, but I’m sure you’d just fight me on it.”

A beat. Because you know he’s right.

“Sorry..” You start, the whole story on the tip of your tongue—the story of why you’re so unwilling to ask for help, why you want to do it all on your own, why you refuse his help—but you’re tired. And Matt knows it.

“You should get some sleep.” His voice is tired too.

“So should you.” But your eyes are getting heavy. “Matt?”

“Hm?”

“I think you’re my best friend.” You say, a rare moment of vulnerability dripping from you. Maybe you’re still riding the high of him making you cum from the other side of the country, maybe you’re just tired, but the words slip out before you can really stop yourself, “I miss you.”

And before Matt can even respond, he hears you lightly snoring on the other end of the line.

He thinks about the promise he made you, that he wouldn’t fall in love with you.

His heart aches in his chest, and he whispers a soft, ‘sweet dreams, sweetheart,’ before he hangs up the phone.

When you go to work the next morning—more tired than you care to admit to any of your coworkers—your boss orders you around all morning, and then, around noon, a gentleman walks in carrying a large vase of flowers. They’re bright—made of sunflowers and baby’s breath and peonies and carnations.

You blink as you accept the large bouquet, sitting it on your desk. All the nosey ladies you work with flock over, admiring your gift with barely concealed jealousy.

“Who are these from?” One asks. You take the card that was attached to the bouquet, and read the message on it—

I miss you too.

Your face flushes more as you slip the note in your pocket and stumble out the best response you can find—

“My best friend.”

note: he’s pretty pathetic here, i think we all want to see that… reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

You have spent years working right beside Wilson Fisk. He trusts you without hesitation because you earned that position through loyalty. Managing the organization for him requires being the bridge between Fisk and the people working beneath him. People who need access to him have to go through you first. You hear the desperation in their voices whenever they beg for an audience. Sometimes being that bridge gives you satisfaction since everyone knows he is the man in charge. Being someone he completely trusts gives you access to handle sensitive information and coordinate operations before those requests ever reach his ears. You make sure the plans reach the right people without mistakes, because if something falls apart, you are the first person expected to fix it. You earned your job through results rather than ruling by fear. Fear breeds cowards, but competence keeps the empire standing while Fisk values competence above other traits.

You have proven time after time that you can solve problems before they get messy. You rarely wait to be told about what needs doing because you already know his expectations. You understand his demands just by watching the way his jaw tightens. Anticipating his needs requires you to notice details other people overlook, and noticing those details means you catch subordinates when they stumble over basic instructions. Watching them fail means you routinely tie up loose ends before they become liabilities for the business. Leaving a messy trail guarantees an early grave, but you will never ever let that happen. You will burn the evidence away until there is no proof to trace back to him, yet some evidence can’t be burned or buried, so you make sure it never speaks again. Handling that dirty work yourself feels like something you must do because others inside the syndicate only rely on clumsy brute force or intimidation.

You view their loud displays of anger as a weakness rather than a threat. True power means knowing when a conversation has reached its end without needing to raise your voice. You handle the jobs yourself without hesitation, as having blood on your hands is something you refuse to deny. You refuse to lie about the monster you became to survive, since guilt stopped bothering you a long time ago. It no longer drives your decisions, so you never feel the need to remind people who you are. You see their shoulders stiffen the second you enter a room, and the sudden drop in their voices tells you what you need to know about their fear because power doesn’t need to be flashy. You prefer to keep your influence out of sight until the moment it matters, as bragging about authority only makes you a bigger target. You don’t have to shove it in their faces to get respect when the way they scramble to follow your instructions serves as proof enough.

Any hesitation disappears the second you look their way. People understand that ignoring your orders is the same as ignoring Fisk himself. They know the punishment for crossing you will be the same as crossing him. That fear makes them shut their mouths when they leave, and their silence ensures very few people outside know your real name. Keeping your identity a secret prevents people from understanding your influence over the city. They spend years trying to figure out the criminal empire. Reading their flawed reports proves they rarely realize how many pieces happened through your hand as they chase the wrong suspects while you orchestrate the operations from the dark. You prefer keeping out of the spotlight while other men take the attention. Letting them take the credit saves you from being targeted. You have no interest in fame or building a new empire of your own. Your work is for the stability of the organization.

The desire for power did not appeal to you as much as the desire for control alongside this life because it gives you a purpose. You firmly believe loyalty is proven through actions rather than empty promises. You have spent years proving where your loyalty belongs. That proven loyalty is exactly why overseeing the personnel takes up a large part of your time, and Fisk trusts your judgment enough to leave the daily management in your hands. He focuses on expanding his empire while you ensure every worker serves their purpose. Everyone beneath him has a specific job to do, and you make sure they never step out of line. You watch over the employees to ensure the operation runs smoothly, and you always review their backgrounds to understand their capabilities. You understand that loyalty can’t be demanded of everyone in exactly the same way, since some are motivated by fear, while others care about money or ambition.

One of your skills is remembering details about the people working for the business, and you treat them all as replaceable tools to maintain order. The syndicate survives because you figure out what drives someone before managing them, and that responsibility extends to Benjamin Poindexter. You know who he is from his history long before ever meeting him, and you memorize his reputation without forgetting the role he fills within the business. His records mention his accuracy just as often as they mention his psychiatric history, but neither detail changes your opinion of him. Knowing those details is part of your job because you refuse to oversee someone without knowing how they think. The reports reveal a pattern you use to keep the organization running efficiently since Benjamin performs best when someone gives him structure alongside direction. He seeks approval from authority figures and becomes unstable whenever that approval disappears.

You ignore his personal issues as long as he does exactly what he’s told. You adjust your approach by giving clear instructions and maintaining consistent expectations to ensure he becomes a reliable asset. Praise is never excessive while criticism is never emotional because you know inconsistency creates unnecessary problems. You never view your approach as manipulation since it’s simply effective management. He begins responding to your routine faster than you expect as he handles the messy jobs other people fail to finish without causing problems for the business. He starts completing assignments exactly as instructed while paying attention to the details you point out. He always waits for your opinion before considering a job finished, and you see it as proof your methods are working perfectly. You have never concerned yourself with building personal relationships inside the business, so you don’t see him as a friend.

You see no reason to treat him any differently than anyone else since you care only about his usefulness and view him as just a weapon for Fisk to use. Keeping a professional distance has always made your job easier, even when small acknowledgments gradually become enough to shape his behavior. A simple nod after a successful assignment keeps him in line, and you allow him to stand at your side during meetings. None of those gestures mean anything unusual to you because you offer them for a purpose. Benjamin begins attaching far more meaning to them than you ever intended. The people around you notice the difference before you do because Benjamin rarely questions your decisions. He follows your instructions without hesitation, and some coworkers assume Fisk placed him under the only person capable of controlling him. Others joke about Benjamin being your favorite operative, but you pay little attention to the comments.

You believe you found the most effective way to manage him without realizing you’re becoming the center of his need for approval. The desperate need for validation makes his failure today unacceptable because the plan was supposed to end with Karen Page dead. You had already removed every possible complication you could predict before handing the final part to the one person you believed could not fail. Karen had survived far too many situations she shouldn’t have survived, and you were tired of adjusting your plans because of her luck. This assignment wasn’t just another routine job for him to complete. This was Benjamin’s chance to fix his mistake with Foggy Nelson, where he almost got caught and exposed the entire operation. Completing this task was his way to prove you were right to keep defending him to Fisk. Karen Page being alive and breathing completely ruins that effort.

You hear the news of his failure before he can make an effort to tell you, so you make sure you are already waiting inside the safe house when he finally arrives. You hear the lock click before the door swings open to reveal him standing in the hallway. You don’t bother greeting him or asking if he took any damage during the fight. He steps inside the room, knowing immediately from your expression that you aren’t interested in hearing his excuses. Coming close doesn’t matter when the target walks away, and it will take a long time to get that chance to put them on the ground again. The job wasn’t finished, so whatever he has to say means absolutely nothing to you. You stare straight at him while he closes the door behind him and looks uncomfortable under your glare. You let him take a few short steps inside the room before you confront him about the outcome. You don’t raise your voice at him because you have never needed to yell to get your point across.

The anger is already obvious in the way you look at him. You cross your arms over your chest while waiting for him to speak first. He refuses to meet your eyes, so you decide to break the silence yourself. “Tell me exactly how Karen Page managed to walk away from you,” you demand in a calm tone while watching his reaction. Benjamin stops walking right in the middle of the room as he finally looks up at you. He opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it again when he sees the disappointment on your face. You know he hates failing you more than he hates failing the actual mission itself. “She had help,” Benjamin replies while staring at a spot on the wall right next to your head. That excuse does nothing to improve your mood since you explicitly told him to anticipate interference. “I don’t care who helped her because you were supposed to eliminate anyone who got in your way,” you state plainly while watching his jaw clench.

You take a step closer to him so he is forced to actually look at you. “He was waiting for me,” Benjamin says while shifting his weight nervously under your gaze. He knows he messed up, and your lack of sympathy makes his failure even worse. “Daredevil showed up before I could take the shot,” he adds to explain the fight on the rooftop. You observe his expression as he talks about the interference. The more he talks, the less interested you become in the details because every sentence sounds like another excuse instead of accountability. You remember giving him the specific instruction to expect interference before the operation even began. You chose him over everyone else for this job because he was supposed to adapt to any obstacle. He was supposed to overcome the problem and finish the job anyway. All you hear is him trying to convince you that the outcome was unavoidable.

“She escaped while he kept me pinned down,” Benjamin continues to defend his failure. He speaks fast, as if an explanation will make you forgive him. A short laugh escapes you before you shake your head in disbelief. You throw his own words back in his face to make him hear how pathetic it sounds coming from someone with his reputation. “A blind man,” you say while looking into his eyes. “You lost your target because of a blind man,” you repeat to mock his excuse. His jaw clenches tight before he looks away from you. The thought that Benjamin Poindexter came back defeated because of a blind vigilante makes you feel insulted. “He isn’t just some regular guy,” Benjamin argues to defend his loss. You refuse to accept that excuse when you put your own standing on the line for him. You close the distance between you two until you are standing right in front of him so he has no room to step back.

Benjamin is the person you defended when no one else in the organization wanted to take the risk. You stood up for him after the Foggy Nelson disaster. You cleaned up the consequences to protect his place within the syndicate. You made yourself responsible for him to convince everyone his mistake wasn’t who he was. You gave him this chance to fix things, but he repays that effort by coming back empty-handed. “I defended you,” you remind him while holding his gaze. Benjamin’s throat bobs as he stares at you. “I know you did,” he mutters while keeping his hands tight at his sides. “I stood in that room to tell them they were wrong about you,” you say as you watch his expression fall. You risked your own position for him, and he makes your judgment look foolish in front of Fisk. You refuse to let him look away from you. “Do you have any idea what you just made me look like?” you ask while letting the anger show in your voice.

He opens his mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. He clenches his teeth together as he tries to figure out a better response. He realizes this is much worse than just missing a target. You stare at him while he struggles to find an excuse that matters, but he finds nothing because you both know he ruined the one chance you gave him. “I know I messed up, but I can still fix this,” he says to salvage whatever trust you still have in him. He keeps his hands at his sides as he tries to find a way to fix the situation. He takes a breath before speaking again, “Just give me another chance to go back there-” You uncross your arms to lift a hand, then you slap him across the face with all your strength before he can finish another excuse. You don’t strike him out of pure anger. You only do it to make him stop talking. The room becomes dead silent, and you watch his face turn to the side from the impact.

He stands there looking surprised because slapping him in the face was the last thing he expected you to do. You don’t give him a single second to recover when you grab his jaw with your hand. Your nails dig into his cheeks hard enough that he has no choice but to face you. You want him to see how angry you are right now since he has never seen this side of you before. You never raise your voice at him, which makes the situation feel much worse for him. “Look right at me when I’m talking to you,” you demand while pressing your thumb against his cheekbone. He doesn’t look away from you, and his pulse races under your palm. “You don’t get another chance until I decide you deserve one,” you state while your fingers dig deeper into his jaw. He needs to understand his place before he tries asking that you let his mistake slip. “That bitch should’ve been dead,” you tell him as you force his head up a little higher. You are tired of changing every plan just because Karen Page survives every attack.

She is a problem that should’ve been eliminated months ago, and this assignment was supposed to put a stop to her interference, yet Benjamin let her walk out of his sight. Your nails bite harder into his cheek to make him listen to every word. “I am so fucking tired of cleaning up after Karen Page,” you say without yelling. You wonder how a reporter manages to survive a highly trained killer. “Every time I think she’s finally gone, someone gives me another reason to deal with her,” you add as you glare at him. You observe his chest rise and fall rapidly as if he’s trying to calm himself. “Do you have any idea how much time I’ve wasted because of that bitch?” you ask while pulling his face a little closer. He just had to put a bullet in her to end the problem, but he failed you. You have to fix his mistake yourself today. You keep your hand tight around his jaw to bring up why you trusted him in the first place.

“Bullseye,” you say to him so he remembers his own title. Everyone knows him as the man who never misses. You expected him to live up to that reputation tonight instead of returning empty-handed. “Maybe I gave you too much credit,” you state as you watch his posture stiffen. Benjamin doesn’t pull away from your hand even though your nails hurt him. He says nothing to defend himself and just waits for you to finish talking. He knows interrupting you again will only make things worse, so he accepts the pain. “I know I failed,” Benjamin says while his breathing picks up. It sickens you to see a trained professional acting like a desperate child. You want him to realize apologies mean nothing when a job is left unfinished. “Send me back right now,” he begs for a chance to fix the mess he created. He looks at you like a stray dog begging for a scrap of approval. You refuse to reward his incompetence with an immediate yes.

“I won’t come back until she’s dead,” he insists in a rushed voice to prove he can still be useful. He assumes finishing the assignment late will erase the disrespect he brought to your name tonight. “I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he promises as he leans into your touch. You wonder if he hears how pathetic he sounds. Empty words do nothing to rebuild the reputation you risked for his sake. “Just give me the order and I-” he starts to say before you cut him off. You squeeze his jaw much harder until his words stop right in the middle of the sentence. He winces from the pain, but he refuses to step back. You have zero interest in hearing another useless guarantee. “You still don’t get it,” you say while shaking your head at him. The problem goes far beyond a single surviving reporter. “This stopped being about Karen the second you walked back in here,” you tell him as you force his face closer.

He needs to understand failing a mission is bad, but making you look stupid is unforgivable. “You need to realize the true price of your mistake,” you state while watching him struggle to figure out the real issue. “Your incompetence makes me look like a fucking idiot for trusting you,” you tell him so he understands exactly what he ruined. You refuse to let anyone else think you made a mistake by keeping him around. “I put my own reputation on the line when I swore you were worth the risk,” you state while keeping your hand firm on his face. You convinced everyone he deserved another chance after his last disaster. You put your own judgment behind him so he could keep his place in the organization. “You knew I stood up for you, yet you still repay me with this pathetic failure,” you say as you observe his expression change. The harsh insults never seemed to bother him, but hearing how deeply he humiliated you finally gets a reaction.

He always focused on proving himself to Fisk without realizing you were the only shield keeping him alive inside the syndicate. “God, I was fucking stupid to believe you were better,” you spit out while glaring at him. Benjamin finally understands what you are really saying. “Please don’t regret choosing me,” he begs as his chest rises faster. The panic in his voice shows exactly how terrified he is of losing your protection. “I never meant to make you look like a fool in front of them,” he says to salvage your trust in him. His eyes search your face for any sign of forgiveness to keep you from turning your back on him. He stares at you like a dog waiting for its owner to fix the mess. “I’ll make it right. You’ll never have to defend me again,” he promises to convince you he can fix this. His hand lifts for a second, as if he wants to reach for your wrist. He stops himself before his fingers can even brush against you.

He knows better than to make another move without your permission. All he can do is stand there and let you hold his head in place. You refuse to let go of his jaw even when he looks at you with that desperate expression. “I have no reason to keep protecting you after tonight,” you state while pushing your thumb harder into his cheekbone. You have already spent way too much time cleaning up his mistakes. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t replace you right now,” you demand in a cold tone. You want him to realize how close he is to losing the only person who covers for him. “Tell me why I shouldn’t walk out that door and let you face the consequences alone,” you add to make the threat perfectly clear. He knows he will fall apart the second you stop telling him what to do. “Because right now I am struggling to remember why I ever gave a shit about you,” you tell him while watching him panic.

The thought of you walking away terrifies him more than the anger in your voice. He needs your orders to keep himself grounded, so losing you means losing his purpose. “You’re the only one who understands how to use me,” Benjamin answers while maintaining eye contact. You can hear the pure desperation behind his words. He sounds completely willing to do whatever it takes to stay under your control. “I’ll do exactly what you want without asking questions,” he swears to secure his spot at your side. He wants to prove his obedience right here so you don’t replace him with someone else. He doesn’t care about Fisk or the organization anymore because his only concern is your approval. “Tell me how to fix this, and I’ll do it,” he pleads while standing under your hand. He waits for your command because he refuses to let you abandon him over one failed assignment. “You think you’re the only guy we have?” you ask in a cold tone while digging your fingers into his face.

You wonder if he actually believes his title makes him immune to consequences. “I can find a replacement to clean up your mess by tomorrow,” you tell him so he understands how fast you can throw him away. Your hand drops from his jaw the second he lunges forward to grab both of your hips. He catches you before you can step backward because he hates hearing how disposable he is to you. His hands hurt your waist, but you don’t break eye contact as he refuses to let you walk away from him tonight. He acts desperate to keep you close by dropping his head forward to hide his face right against your neck. “N-no. You can’t replace me,” Benjamin argues as his fingers dig deeper into the fabric of your shirt. You feel his breath against your neck when he speaks into your shoulder. “Nobody else can do what I do,” he insists in a panicked voice while shaking his head against you.

His desperation makes you want to laugh right in his face. You expect a trained killer to have at least a shred of dignity. “There is only one Bullseye,” he adds as he tries to convince you he is the only weapon Fisk will ever need. Hearing him use his own nickname sounds more like a plea than a threat. “I won’t fuck it up next time,” he promises while holding you tighter against him. He needs you to believe he can fix this failure. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he begs in a rushed breath. You wonder how much pride he is willing to lose to earn your forgiveness. Listening to him beg proves exactly who holds the power between you two. “You need me,” he says to convince you not to abandon him. You realize how much you owe him when he acts this pathetic for your approval. You shove his chest backward with enough force to make him stumble away from you. He loses his balance for a second before you grab a handful of his hair.

You yank his head backward so he is forced to stare straight into your face. “Ah- fuck,” he grunts, but he lets you drag him without fighting back. You want him to realize he has no room to negotiate with you right now. “Whatever I want?” you ask as your fingers tighten in his hair to keep his head pulled back. He gulps nervously before nodding as much as your hand allows. You take his desperate promise to heart to see how far he is willing to go. “Then get on your fucking knees,” you command without hesitation. He drops to the floor without waiting because he fears making you angry. You let go of his hair so you can grab his jaw again once he is down there. You angle his face upward so he has to look up at you from his knees. “Look at me,” you order while digging your thumb into his cheek. He keeps his eyes glued to yours as his life depends on it. “Prove you can be useful,” you demand while looking down at him.

Benjamin leans forward to rub his cheek harder into your hand. He turns his face to kiss your palm before he opens his mouth to take your thumb inside. He sucks on your finger to show you exactly how desperate he is for your attention. He keeps both of his hands at his sides while using only his mouth to please you. You watch him act like a pathetic animal begging for scraps. “Tell me how,” he mumbles against your fingers. You pull your hand away from his mouth so you can take a slow step backward across the floor. “Show me you know how to follow,” you order while looking down at him. He refuses to let any empty space exist between you, so he follows you by crawling forward on his knees. You observe him drag his knees across the floor without ever trying to stand up. His eyes never leave your face as he follows you across the room and keeps his hands to himself. You don’t stop taking those steps until the back of your legs brushes against the edge of the living room sofa.

You sit down on the cushions, and you spread your knees apart to give him access. He keeps crawling until he places himself right between your legs. He wraps both of his arms around your thighs so you can’t shove him away from you again. You look down at him while he kneels on the floor directly beneath you as he holds your legs tight enough to make sure you can’t push him back. He buries his face directly into your stomach to hide his expression from you. He holds your thighs tight while his hands slide upward to grab the fabric of your waistband. He takes a deep breath against you before he finally lifts his head back up. He looks up at you with his chin resting against your belly as he waits for your permission. He stares at you with pure desperation in his eyes. “Let me make it up to you,” he whispers against your shirt. He refuses to let go of your clothes until you tell him what to do next.

You run your fingers through his hair very slowly to keep your voice gentle because hearing you speak to him that way destroys his pride. He pulls his face away from your stomach just enough to put a little distance between you two. His hands move down to the buckle of your belt before he undoes it. “I gave you this job because I wanted you to be the one to do it for me,” you tell him as you watch his shoulders drop under your touch. “It makes me so sad that I trusted you with this,” you add while running your thumb across his cheek. He flinches at the disappointment in your tone, but he leaves his hands on your waist. You offer him a sympathetic smile as you look down at his face. He doesn’t like feeling inadequate, and he has a desperate need to prove he is good for something. He tilts his head back to look up at you right as his fingers shake against the fabric of your pants. He pops the button open before pulling the zipper all the way down.

“You tried so hard, but you just couldn’t manage it, could you?” you ask while letting him undress you. “I really wanted to be proud of you tonight, Dex,” you murmur as you stroke his hair again. He looks completely devastated by your words, but he refuses to get up off the floor. You sigh quietly like you are exhausted from defending him. He grabs the waistband of your pants right as you let out that breath. He leans back to give himself room to work the clothing down your legs. He pushes the fabric down your hips and thighs while you monitor him from above. “I tell everyone that you are my best guy,” you state as you run your nails over his scalp. He pauses to take a shaky breath. “Now they are going to think I was stupid for believing in you,” you say while watching his hands shake. He clutches your pants tighter as he stares up at your face. He reaches down to pull the pants over your ankles before he throws them onto the floor.

He leans forward again to hide his face right against your thigh. He presses a desperate kiss just above your knee to find some comfort. “I’m sorry... please don’t sound so disappointed,” he begs into your leg. “Please don’t replace me,” he pleads while shaking his head against you. He kisses your leg again to show his devotion. “I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good,” he tells you as he holds your thighs. “I’ll do anything you want,” he promises in a rushed breath. He lifts his head from your leg to look right up at your face. His hands drag up your legs until his fingers hook underneath the elastic band of your underwear. He stares up at you while waiting for an answer. “Let me take care of you... please,” he whispers as he keeps eye contact. He sounds so desperate to prove his worth right here on the floor. “I can still be useful. Tell me I can take these off,” he insists while tugging on the waistband. You don’t say a word back to him, so he realizes he has to ask better.

He clenches the elastic band of your underwear as he stares up at your face. He refuses to pull the fabric down until you give him explicit permission to uncover you completely. “I just want to make you feel better,” he says from between your legs. He waits for your order since he refuses to make another mistake today. “Can I? Please?” he asks while looking up at you like a dog. You swat his hands away from your waistband before his fingers can slide your panties down. You grab his wrists, and you shove his arms straight down to his sides. “Did I ever give you permission to do that?” you ask while he stares up at you. He realizes he crossed a line, so he forces both hands behind his back to prove he knows how to follow orders. You check his posture to make sure he does what he is told. “You haven’t earned the right to have me tonight,” you state as you look down at his pathetic expression. A heavy swallow escapes him, and he refuses to move his arms from behind his back.

You grab a handful of his hair to yank his head forward until his face presses against your crotch. His breath hitches from the closeness, and he leaves his hands right where you told him to put them. He takes a deep breath against the fabric of your panties while he waits for your next command. “You have to work a lot harder if you want these off,” you tell him while tightening your hand in his hair. He shakes against your thighs because having you this close drives him crazy. “Don’t move your fucking hands from behind your back,” you warn him to ensure he doesn’t try to touch you again. He rubs his nose right against your covered cunt to show you he understands. You look down at him while he waits against you for some kind of release. “You failed your assignment today, so you have to taste me through the fabric,” you declare to remind him about his mistake. “Lick right through the material,” you order while forcing his head down onto your crotch.

He lets out a needy whine, and he parts his lips to obey your command right away. “You only get to taste whatever soaks through because you were useless today,” you say as you watch his mouth open wider. “Make it wet enough, and I might forgive you,” you add to give him a reason to try harder. He presses his tongue against the fabric to follow your order without a second of hesitation. He licks right over the seam of your panties while he tries to balance himself without using his hands. You watch the material turn dark with his saliva as he tries to please you. He wants the real thing so much, and he accepts being denied since he knows he deserves the punishment. You feel the wet heat of his mouth seeping through the panties to soak your cunt. He drags his tongue up and down the seam time after time to drench the entire area for you. He refuses to bring his arms forward even when he wobbles on his knees.

He pauses to breathe before looking up at you from between your legs. “Mnn... is this good?” he asks while looking at your face. He dives right back down to lick the soaked material before you can even answer him. You feel his tongue working the wet fabric into your slit so he can taste you. “I’ll make it so wet for you,” he mumbles against your crotch before letting out a grunt. He stops licking to look up at you with desperate eyes. “Please let me taste the rest,” he begs while staring up at you. You hold your hand tight in his hair to remind him who is in charge right now. He leans back so he can look into your face while leaving his mouth very close to you. “Tell me I’m doing a good job,” he pleads to get some validation for his efforts. You refuse to give him any praise until the fabric is ruined with his spit. He takes your silence as a cue to work harder, so he pushes his face right back into your cunt. You let out a sigh as his tongue laps at the soaked material.

“Mmf- please tell me I’m good,” he whines into your crotch while rubbing his nose against you. The urge to use his fingers makes his arms twitch, but he forces his hands behind his back anyway. The punishment drives him crazy because he wants to touch your cunt. His mouth has to do all the work while he kneels on the floor between your legs. You see him shove his face into your center to get a better angle. His hot breath fans the damp fabric of your panties before he opens his mouth. “Fuck- just like that,” you groan while staring down at his head. “Ahhn- keep going,” you command as you tighten your hand in his hair. A wet sound fills the room when his tongue drags hard against the center seam to find the exact spot you need. The soaked fabric turns see-through under his mouth as he laps right over your clit. “Shit- right there,” you curse while your hips jerk upward. You feel the rough texture of the panties rub against your folds.

He parts his lips to close his mouth right over your clit through the material and sucks it. “Mnn- suck it harder,” you demand while tilting your hips forward. “God... fuck yes,” you sigh as his tongue flicks against you. The annoyance of not having the whole thing makes him too impatient to wait any longer after being denied for so long. Tasting you through a layer of fabric frustrates him because he craves the real thing. You feel him turn his head just enough to bite down on your panties. He hooks his teeth into the fabric and tries to yank your panties to the side so he can taste you without it. He drags the material far enough out of the way before releasing it from his teeth. His mouth dives forward the second his lips are free. A hot breath escapes him when he swipes his tongue against your slick folds. He laps you up with a sloppy sound while his nose nudges into your thigh. Tasting your cunt makes him groan right against your slit, and he devours you without using his hands because you told him to leave them behind his back.

Your juices coat his chin while he eats you out, and you feel his tongue working deep into your hole as he tries to make up for lost time. He wants to prove how useful he can be right here on the floor. “Did I say you could move those?” you ask while looking down at his head. You yank his hair backward to stop him from licking your cunt any further. A whine escapes him, but he lets you drag his head away from your center. Your juices shine right on his chin when he looks up at you with needy eyes. He pants through an open mouth as he waits for your next instruction. You hold his head tilted back to make him look at your face. “You’re so fucking impatient,” you taunt while watching his chest heave. He tries to lean forward again, but you pin him in place. “Fucking desperate,” you state as you observe him beg for another taste. The punishment of being so close yet so far from his reach drives him crazy.

A heavy breath escapes him while he stares up at your face, and his hands twitch behind his back as he fights the urge to grab your thighs. You let him suffer on his knees for a few more seconds before deciding what to do next. The desperation in his eyes proves how much he hates disappointing you today. He rubs his cheek against your thigh to ask for forgiveness without using his words. Refusing to give him an immediate answer makes him squirm under your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbone as he leans into the touch. You let go of his hair and point straight at the floor. He frowns at you because he hates being pushed away right when he got a taste. He wants to dive back into your cunt, but he waits for your next instruction. “Move backward on your knees,” you order as you glare down at him. You can see the annoyance in his expression over the distance.

“Why do I have to move?” he whines while staring at your wet slit. Looking so desperate makes him pathetic. He actually thinks he gets a say in this. “I was doing what you wanted,” he argues as he refuses to budge. You wonder if he really believes arguing will change your mind. “Did I ask for your opinion?” you ask while keeping your finger pointed down. His eyes widen when he realizes you might make him stop for good. “Four steps back right now,” you demand so he knows you mean it. Frustration makes him groan before he shuffles backward on his knees to put some distance between you two. You watch him move away before you lift your hips off the couch cushion. You slide your wet panties down your legs so you can step out of them. You grab the soaked material before tossing it onto the floor right in front of his knees. Pure instinct makes his hand shoot out from behind his back to snatch it up.

“I’m keeping these,” he grunts as he shoves the wet fabric into his pocket. He acts like a feral dog hoarding food because he refuses to let you take it away. “Don’t try to take them back,” he begs while guarding his pants. You roll your eyes at his behavior before deciding to give him a break instead of punishing the slip. “You can bring your other hand out from behind your back,” you state to give him full permission. He brings his arms forward to reach for you because he thinks he gets to feel your body after being denied for so long. He wants to grab your thighs, but you point straight at his pants before he can touch your legs. He drops his hands while he looks up at you in confusion. “You won’t let me touch you?” he whines as he stares up at your face. He stares at his empty hands like he expects you to change your mind. You can see how much he hates being denied after following your orders. “I just want to hold your legs,” he pleads while looking between your face and your thighs.

Begging only proves how desperate he is for physical contact. “Take it out and touch yourself,” you command as you point down at his pants. He swallows hard because he realizes you intend to keep denying him. You lean back against the couch cushions while you look down at his pathetic expression. “You haven’t earned the right to touch me,” you state to remind him of his place. He looks down at his jeans before looking right back at your wet cunt. “Just tell me I can taste you again,” he begs while his hands shake in front of his chest. You refuse to answer him until he does what you told him to do. He undoes his belt and unbuttons his pants to free his hard cock from his jeans. He pulls his dick straight out from his underwear without taking his clothes off. He wraps his fingers around himself to stroke his cock while he watches your face. “F-fuck- mmh,” he stutters as he pumps his fist up and down his shaft.

You nod in approval so he knows he can come back to his spot between your legs. “Come here,” you offer as you monitor him jerking off. He works his hand faster as he scrambles forward on his knees to reach you. He hurries back to his spot between your legs without stopping his hand. He buries his face back into your wet cunt so he can lick you out while stroking his own dick. He pumps his fist along his shaft as his tongue swipes right against your slick folds. He lets out a muffled groan against your slit when he tastes you again. He laps at your clit as he jerks himself off right in front of you. You watch him devour you while his hand moves fast over his cock. He uses his mouth on you without hesitation since his hands are too busy to touch your thighs. He dips his chin down a bit to align his mouth with your opening before he curls his tongue to push it just past your folds.

He slides it into your slick entrance before dragging it back out to thrust in again while a sloppy noise comes from his lips. He strokes his own cock with his fist while he breathes loud enough to hear over the sounds of his mouth. “Fuck- Dex-” you groan while tilting your hips closer to his face. He looks good on his knees. “Ahhn- right there,” you curse as his tongue works inside you. You watch him swallow saliva leaking past his mouth. He takes orders better than you expected. “Keep doing that,” you command while looking down at him. He needs leverage to hold his mouth in place, and his empty hand reaches out to grab your thigh for support. You smack the back of his hand the second your fingers brush your leg, but he brings his arm right back up. His fingers twitch toward your knee a few moments later because he wants to grab you. “Mnn- keep your hands down,” you warn while glaring at his messy face.

You slap his knuckles hard enough to leave a mark the moment he tries to sneak his palm toward your waist. A pathetic whine vibrates against your cunt every time you reject his touch, but he refuses to pull his mouth away even after you slap him. “F-fuck... yeah,” you sigh while he swallows down another whine. He pumps his fist up and down his shaft while his tongue laps at your opening. He attempts to slide his fingers over your calf one last time before you lift your foot and dig your heel right into his shoulder to push him back. “You don’t get to touch me,” you taunt as he whines against your slit. He takes the rough treatment without a fight because he refuses to stop tasting you. He presses his empty hand against the base of the couch to hold himself back. He pants through his nose to catch his breath between each push of his tongue. “Feels good,” you praise while watching him take the punishment.

You see his eyes dart up to follow your hip movements. You want him to beg for a touch later. “Shit- fuck yes,” you curse as his mouth laps at you. He looks up at you through his eyelashes to gauge your reaction, and the sight of his messy face makes you arch your back off the cushion. Arching your hips forces your clit to bump right against his nose while his tongue pushes at your entrance. “Nngh- take it,” you demand while your hips press forward. He exhales against your folds while his hand moves fast over his cock. You stop telling him what to do once the pleasure gets too much and your breath breaks into ragged sighs. You drop your head back against the couch cushions before lifting one hand to cover your eyes and hide your face while Benjamin watches you fall apart. “Nnngh... fuck,” you whine as you struggle to catch your breath. He lets go of his own shaft because he needs to use both hands.

He ignores your previous warnings to reach up from between his legs and wrap his fingers right around your bare thigh. He pushes your knee outward to open you up for his mouth while your free hand tries to swat his knuckles. You move too slow to stop him, and his other hand comes up fast to catch your wrist before you can slap him. He forces your arm straight down into the upholstery to hold you in place. He presses your arm against the cushion while his other hand holds your thigh tightly. He observes your face while you gasp for air. “Shh- let me just hold your leg,” he murmurs while staring right at you. You yank your arm against his grip, but he refuses to let go. “Y-you don’t get to do that-” you stutter as your hips twitch. “You don’t have to fight me,” he interrupts without raising his voice as he waits for you to stop struggling. “Mmn- let me take care of you,” he tells you before leaning forward.

He holds your arm down and brings his mouth back to your folds while his tongue moves slowly over your clit. A frustrated noise escapes you when he refuses to go faster, and your hips jerk forward to chase his mouth. He pulls his head back an inch to let his tongue graze your clit because he refuses to give you the pleasure you want. “Hah- nngh... faster,” you beg while twisting the wrist he presses against the couch. He ignores your begging and instead uses the distance to speak. “Don’t cover your eyes,” he instructs while squeezing your thigh harder. You press your hand against your face to hide your expression until he nudges his nose against your clit to force a reaction out of you. “Fuck you- ahhhnn,” you curse while moving your hand away from your eyes to glare down at him. “Look right at me,” he demands before diving his tongue back inside your hole. You stare down at his messy face while he drags his tongue over your clit over and over without speeding up.

He knows you need him to go faster, but he refuses to change his pace while your toes curl and you squirm against the cushion. “Hngh... Dex, please,” you beg while arching your back. He pushes his tongue inside you the second you ask for it. “I got you,” he promises while he laps at your entrance to make you beg for everything. You drop your free hand from your face down to his head to tangle your fingers in his hair. You shove his face hard against your folds to force his nose right into your slit. You thrust your hips up to grind your cunt against his mouth. “I never told you to touch me,” you spit out while glaring down at his messy face. You tighten your fingers in the strands at the base of his neck. “Y-you didn’t get my permission to put your hands on me- nghh,” you scold while you grind your hips against his nose. He ignores your complaints to let go of your thigh and move his hand higher up your leg. He finds your clit and rubs his thumb over it to shut you up.

You thrash against him, but he shoves your pinned arm harder into the couch to stop you from fighting back. He thrusts his tongue inside your hole while his thumb rubs over your clit. Your words cut off into a loud groan because his tongue and thumb move at the same time. You yank his hair to hold his face against your slit because you want him closer. “Hngh... f-fuck,” you stutter as your hips grind up to chase his mouth. He strokes your clit with his thumb right in time with the thrust of his tongue. He rubs you over and over to make your hips shake against the couch. Your breathing turns into short gasps while you ride his mouth. “Hah- ahhhnn... right there,” you beg while your back arches up. He pushes his tongue further inside your cunt to answer your demands. You lose the ability to scold him because you need his mouth too much. Your toes curl against the floor while you grind against his face.

“Don’t you fucking stop- nnngh,” you command while your nails dig into his scalp. He rubs his thumb over your clit to make you beg. You gasp for air because you need what he does to you. “I swear to God, Dex- mmph,” you curse while your hips jerk against his nose. Benjamin feels your hips jerk against his face before he leans back to take his mouth away from your slit. He moves his tongue just out of reach while you thrash against the sofa because you want the release bad enough to fight for it. “Wh-what the fuck are you doing? Nnh- don’t stop,” you complain while you tug his hair to force his head back down. He refuses to budge, but he presses his thumb over your clit. He looks up at your face while you stare back at him. “Tell me how much you like my mouth on you,” he demands while he watches your expression. He presses his thumb against you to make you speak.

“Tell me to make you cum,” he taunts while he drags his finger over your clit to pull another moan from your throat. You spit out a curse, but your chest heaves for air. “Fuck you... You don’t get to order me around- ahhn,” you stutter as your hips jerk up to chase him. Your cunt clenches with a need you can’t control while your legs shake on either side of his head. Your fingers twist into his hair before you stop fighting him because you crave his mouth way too much. “Fine... God, I like it,” you admit while you let out a ragged breath. Your fingers untangle from his hair when you give up. “Please Dex... mnnnh- make me cum,” you beg as you give him all your attention. He pushes his face right back into you the second you confess to sliding his tongue over your slit. You let out a loud gasp when he releases your pinned arm and his fingers dig into your thighs while he speeds up his pace. He moves his thumb faster until your breath hitches, and you lift your shoulders off the backrest to get closer to him.

Your hands leave his hair to grab his shoulders to drag his mouth straight against your folds. “Dex- Fuck- yes...” you gasp while you dig your nails into his skin. He grunts against your slit before dragging his tongue over your clit to make you cum. His mouth makes your head fall back before a loud moan escapes your throat. Your toes curl while your back arches off the sofa. You squeeze your thighs around his ears while you thrust your hips up into his face. Your hips jerk while you cum all over his tongue. He leaves his mouth against your slit to swallow every drop. He laps his tongue across your folds to clean you up, and he refuses to move away until your legs stop shaking. You drop your back onto the couch to catch your breath. “God... hahh... you’re a bastard,” you mumble while you let your eyes fall shut. Benjamin chuckles against you before he speaks up. “I always get what I want,” he states while he places a kiss right over your clit.

Benjamin pulls away from your thighs before he gets up from the floor. He places his feet on either side of your legs to tower over you. Both of you look down at his cock because he stopped jerking off to make you cum. His dick twitches in the open air while he catches his breath. You tilt your head back to look up at his face. A smirk forms on your lips when you look at his undone pants. “Looks like someone got left out,” you point out as you gesture toward his crotch. You lean forward to reach your hand out toward his waist. You wrap your fingers around his cock to take him into your palm. “Sh-shit- fuck,” Benjamin groans when your hand grabs him. He tilts his head back while a rough breath escapes his lips. You drag your hand up and down his dick without speeding up the pace. He thrusts his hips forward into your palm because he needs more. You squeeze his cock to stop him from moving.

You rub your thumb over the tip of his dick. “Let me finish what you started,” you offer while you look up at him. He lets out a rough grunt before he glares down at you. “D-don’t play with it- ngh,” he grunts as he pushes his waist against your palm. You ignore his words to drag your hand up his length again. You wrap your fingers tighter around him to make him gasp. “Mmn- I guess you want this,” you murmur while you stroke him at a slow pace. Benjamin mutters a curse under his breath before his fingers clamp around the wrist of the hand wrapped around his cock. He pulls at your arm to move your fingers away from him, but you refuse to let go. “You’re going to make me- ngh,” he groans while his knees buckle. You use your free hand to grab his hip to pull him closer to the couch. You pump your hand over his cock again to pull another moan out of his throat. He watches your face while you move your fist up and down.

“Fuck... do it,” he commands as he lets go of your wrist. You grab his hip to drag him down onto the other side of the couch before he drops onto the seat to face you with his legs spread wide apart. You scoot forward to close the distance between your bodies, and he watches your face when you tighten your fingers around his cock. You lean in to put your lips against his neck as you pump your hand up and down his shaft until a loud breath escapes his throat the second your mouth touches him. “Are you going to beg for my mouth?” you ask him before you press kisses up to his jaw and you rub your thumb over the tip of his cock. He thrusts his hips into your palm to get closer to your hand as you move your face next to his ear to keep teasing him. You drag your fist down to the base of his shaft to force a loud gasp from his throat. “Or should I just keep using my hand?” you mock him while you stroke him again.

He tilts his head to the side to give you more room before you speak up. “Are you going to cum like this?” you whisper right next to his ear. Benjamin lets out a loud groan to stop your questions. He grabs your thigh to dig his fingers into your leg while he shoves his hips forward into your hand to force a faster pace. “F-fuck you... just use your mouth,” he demands while he glares at you. You smile at him because you got the answer you wanted. You slide your hand up his length one more time to torture him. “Stop talking and do it- ngh,” he curses when you squeeze his cock. You lean back from his face to look at his cock before you let go of his shaft to lower your head between his legs. Benjamin tilts his head back when you open your mouth over him to take the tip of his cock past your lips. He lets out a loud curse when your tongue slides against him. His fingers dig into your thigh while you take more of his length into your mouth.

“God... f-fuck,” he groans as he thrusts forward into your face. You move your lips further along his shaft to take more of his length into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the head before you suck him deep. Benjamin thrusts his hips forward to chase your mouth while he moves his free hand to grab the strands of your hair. He throws his head back to take a loud breath before he curses out loud. “F-fuck yes... don’t stop,” he groans while his hips thrust toward your face. You keep your head lowered to give him what he wants. He guides your head with his fingers to control the pace. You reach your hand out to wrap your fingers around the base of his cock to stroke him while your mouth takes the rest of his length. Benjamin digs his other hand deeper into your thigh when you use your mouth and hand at the same time. You trace your tongue along the underside before you drag your mouth toward the tip.

He pushes forward from the couch to get deeper past your lips. “God... you feel so fucking good- hah,” he pants as he watches you take him. You stroke the bottom of his cock while your mouth slides over the tip. His breathing speeds up every time your lips move against him. You slide your mouth up his shaft to tease the tip with your tongue. Benjamin lets out a loud grunt before he tugs on your hair to guide your head back down to his cock. “Put it back in your mouth... f-fuck,” he demands while he glares at you. You sink your mouth all the way down to his base to give him what he asked for. He shoves his hips forward to bury himself deep in your throat. You gag around his cock, and you let out a muffled sound against his base while you take his full length. He holds your hair so you can’t move away from him. You suck his cock while you stroke his base with your hand.

Benjamin thrusts his hips forward every time you lower your head. He squeezes your leg because the feeling gets too intense. “Shit... mmf- yes... keep going- nghh,” he curses as he watches your mouth move over him. You circle your tongue around the head one more time before you move your lips back to the tip. He tilts his head back against the couch to catch his breath. You move your hand faster while you watch his face. Benjamin lifts his fingers from your thigh before he grabs your wrist. He pulls your arm away from him to remove your hand from his cock. He drops your arm to your side because he prefers your mouth on him right now. He stares down at your face while you kneel on the couch. “Keep your hands off... take it the right way- ahn,” he commands while he waits for you to obey. He thrusts his hips forward to get closer to your mouth. You open your lips to do exactly what he says. You suck the tip of his cock, but you refuse to take his full length.

You swirl your tongue around the head to tease him instead of going deep. Benjamin mutters a curse before his fingers twist into the strands of your hair. He thrusts his hips forward into your face without giving you time to adjust. He forces his cock down your throat to make you gag around his shaft. A muffled noise escapes you when he bottoms out past your lips. “F-fuck... I told you to take all of it,” he groans while he pushes your head down. He refuses to let you pull back from him. You pull your head back a few inches to glare up at his face. You reach out to plant both of your hands onto his covered thighs. You dig your nails into the fabric of his pants to push back against him. Benjamin keeps his hand tangled in your hair to guide your head up and down his cock. He forces a slower pace to keep himself from thrusting deep into your mouth again. “Yeah... look right at me while you do it- hngh,” he pants as he watches your eyes.

He bobs your head over his shaft while you swallow around his length every time he pushes you down. Your hands tighten on his thighs whenever his cock hits the back of your throat. He lets out a loud grunt when your lips wrap around his base. He uses his hand in your hair to make sure you take every single inch of him. “Keep your mouth wide for me... fuck,” he demands while he speeds up his movements. You let out another gagging sound when he forces his entire length past your lips again. He watches your mouth take his cock without looking away. His hips thrust forward into your face despite his efforts to hold himself back. “God... this feels so fucking amazing- mmf,” he groans as he keeps pumping your head. Benjamin keeps his hand tangled in your hair so you can’t pull away from him. He holds your head in place to stop bobbing you up and down because he wants to thrust his hips forward from the sofa instead.

He shoves his waist forward to do the work himself. He forces his length past your lips without waiting for you to adjust. “Take it all the way down- fuck,” he pants while he pushes right into your face. He thrusts his waist forward to bury his cock deep past your lips. He forces his full length down your throat every single time he shoves it in. You gag around his shaft when he reaches the very back of your throat. He pumps forward to force you to swallow every inch of him. “Ghk- Mmph-” you choke out while you take his length. You try to latch onto his covered thighs to dig your nails into his pants while he thrusts forward. He pulls his cock out to the tip before he shoves it straight down your throat again. He lets out a low groan while he fucks your mouth at a faster pace. He watches your face to see you take his entire length. “Swallow it all for me,” he tells you while looking down at you. His hips slap against your face while he speeds up his thrusts.

He trembles under your hands because he gets closer to cumming. He shoves his cock deeper down your throat to make your eyes water. You choke around his shaft while you struggle to swallow his full length. He tightens his fingers in your hair to make sure you take all of it. “Shit... I’m so fucking close-” he curses while his knees start to shake. Benjamin thrusts his hips forward to shove his cock as deep as it can go. He forces his full length down your throat to make you choke. His fingers twist tighter into your hair when his shaft buries inside your mouth. “Fuck... don’t move,” he groans while his hips push forward. You gag when he reaches the back of your throat. He shoves forward to make sure you take every inch of him. He lets out a loud grunt when he shoots his cum down your throat. His load fills your mouth until it starts to spill down your chin. “Mmmph- hkkh!” you choke around his cock while he pumps into you.

He twitches inside your mouth while he empties his shaft completely. You swallow as much as you can to handle the amount he forces out. He keeps his hand tangled in your hair, so you have to take every drop. He takes a fast breath before he pushes your head away from his crotch. He lets go of your hair to slump back against the couch so you can breathe. His cock twitches with a few drops of cum right at the tip. “Haaah... shit- you took all of it,” he pants while he looks down at your face. You move away from his thighs to lean back against the sofa. He spreads his legs a bit wider on the furniture while he catches his breath. He rests his head against the backrest to watch you recover. You let out a cough to clear your throat. You wipe the spit and cum from your chin before you glare at his face. You shoot him an angry look because he made you choke on it. “A-asshole- you didn’t even warn me,” you spit out while you catch your breath.

He chuckles a little bit while he watches you wipe your mouth. He reaches out to rub a drop of spit from the corner of your lips. “You handled it perfectly,” he says while he traces your jawline. You reach out to grab the front of his shirt to drag his face closer to yours without giving him a chance to back away. He doesn’t fight you because he wants to hear what you have to say. You lean in to brush your lips right next to his ear. “I know exactly how good I took it,” you whisper while you breathe against his neck. He tilts his head to give you more room to speak. You change your tone to bring up the job he messed up today. You remind him that he disappointed you when he failed to kill Karen. His jaw clenches the second you mention Karen and ruins his good mood. “It’s a damn shame you let that bitch live,” you mock him right next to his ear. He turns his face to look at you with an annoyed expression while you smirk back at him to show you aren’t intimidated at all. You tap your fingers against his chest to make your point clear. You glare up at him to show you’re serious about the job.

He watches your eyes while you tell him what to do next. “You need to fix your mistake before I lose my patience,” you demand as you dig your nails into his shirt. He lets out a hard breath through his nose while he listens to every single word you tell him. You drag your eyes down to his twitching cock before you look back up at his face. You promise him a much better reward if he actually finishes the job this time. “Bring me her head, and I’ll let you fuck my cunt,” you whisper while you trace his jawline. He chuckles because he likes the way you threaten him. “You drive a really hard bargain,” he pants as he imagines it. “I’ll get it done if you promise me that,” he tells you while he leans his forehead against yours. “Do we have a deal?” you ask him after you move your head back a little bit to look right into his eyes. You watch his face because you know he will never turn down an offer like that. He nods to agree while he rests his hands on your waist. “Consider her dead,” he promises before he leans forward to kiss you.

⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀ twenty-twenty-six © addie / musingsofheaven.

⠀⠀⠀

dex is particular about what he likes, about what he doesn't. though when it came to you, he found that the lines would blur for what he typically permits. there wasn't one person he'd let touch him with such sweaty mitts, but with you, it was as if he'd actively seek it out.

and that's why when it would get to temperatures like these, he'd do whatever he deems necessary in order to feel your body sweat against his.

the position he's got you in is close, far too close in heatwave like this. it's as if it's to encourage the sweat production that needs no such aid: sticky back against the sheets, knees hiked up as close to your chest as you can muster. though with dex on top, arms hooked under those said bent knees of yours, he's keeping you pinned — position pushing you in on yourself almost. 

there's almost no escaping it, especially not when his thighs trap you in; the upper area above either knee wedging underneath each cheek of your ass. 

a moderate sheen of sweat layers between you, like it's the butter slapped on two slices of bread. it's teetering the scales into something uncomfortable, the stickiness on your skin. with the more each of your bodies produce, the more you slip with every motion and the more evident it becomes as to why he's gripping onto you so tight.

dex keeps his forehead pressed into yours below, the position an effort to keep you put exactly where you are. but with him so close, you fail to acknowledge the veins bulging up the lengths of his throat, the flatness in his dampened hair, the red spreading across his chest — all of which things you love to see on the regular, only now with him obstructing your view, and with eyes as tightly clamped closed as they are, you cannot appreciate the sights you would otherwise swoon over.

you're a mess, rather literally: hairline sodden with sweat, crevices behind your knees and elbows dripping as he coaxes you through yet another climax. fucking you through your fourth, maybe fifth orgasm.

the motion in his hips dips ever so slightly, not enough for it to be a considerable difference, but enough to allow you a moment to catch your breath. 

"I can't, I'm too— I'm too hot," you pant, throat dry. your nails hook and dig into his beefy shoulder blades, crescent moon shapes forming on the surface of his sweaty, reddened skin. "it's too—"

"much. I know."

he stills inside you for a moment, balls pushing up against the lower of your cunt. he pauses, reducing movement to nothing, like he was struggling to restrain himself, battling the own control he has over himself. he couldn't come yet, not when he has you so perfectly and rather pathetically fucked out.

dex keeps his cock plugged deep in your cunt, the crown of his dick lodged in that pocket of tissue beside your cervix. he adjusts himself, only slightly, and lifts his forehead from yours, pulling it away so he can slot into the crook of your neck. 

"I need one more," he breathes against the side of your throat, voice hot and he sears a litter of kisses into your dampened, salty skin. 

he tests you with another pump, the motion slow and steady as he almost, nearly, entirely pulls out. and with that slight movement of his dragging cock, your trapped juices and arousal trickles out your pussy and down your ass; a milky string spilling from your cunt and into a pool on the sheets below.

that experimental thrust grows into a gradually systematic pattern, each wind getting closer and closer, deeper and deeper somehow. the sticky, stinky sweat is uncomfortable, but he's never known himself to be in such a turned on headspace.

you're the only person he wants to be coated in fluids from. there was something about knowing that the way you felt was a direct response from what he, himself, made you feel. and if thats not love, what is?