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#agent poindexter
amberlynnmurdock · 4 months
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Aim For My Heart (Part 1)
Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader
Summary: One random morning, she buys him a coffee when the barista gets his order wrong–and ever since, Dex has been entranced.
Genres: light angst in the beginning, fluff, making out
A/N: This first part is all fluff! So I hope you guys like it! This is my first time writing Dex so I hope I got his character right :)
TAGS: @danzer8705 @pcrushinnerd (let me know if you want to be tagged or if I missed you)
credit to the owner of this gif!!!
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Drip drip. 
Benjamin Poindexter’s brown eyes shoot open at the annoying sound of his sink’s leaky faucet. 
Drip drip.
He attempts to ignore the sound. He shuts his eyes and readjusts himself in bed. He takes a deep breath. 
Drip drip. 
He’s had enough. He can’t stand it. 
Kicking the sheets off himself, Dex huffs out of bed and stomps to the kitchen to fix the faucet. He rips a paper towel off a roll seamlessly and wipes the nozzle. He waits a moment to see if it works. Hand on his waist, he stares at the nozzle of the faucet, almost daring it to drip again. After 45 seconds, he decides it worked. 
He goes back into his room and crawls into bed. In an instant, he falls back asleep.
***
Another dreadful day. 
He can’t remember when his days started to feel like chores he had to get done. Was it when he was put in an orphanage? Was it when his dreams of becoming a professional pitcher were taken away? Was it when his therapist, Dr. Mercer, the only person who ever understood him, passed away? 
When was it? 
It seemed he was accurate with everything else in his life except when it came to pinpointing an exact moment when it started to fall apart. And it’s been falling apart slowly every day. 
Still—he needs to have coffee to somewhat function. He throws the empty coffee bag out in the trash and turns his hands into fists as he rests them on his clean marble countertop. Why do things like this get under his skin? Something as simple as running out of ground coffee? He looks up and is met with his reflection in the microwave. Sometimes, he can barely recognize himself. 
After a few moments, he decides he’ll have to stop at the corner coffee shop, which he hates to do. He hates being around people. He hates pretending to be normal. He hates that he has to put on an act. He hates the fake smile he gives when he orders his coffee; he hates waiting in line. The anticipation of waiting kills him inside. He hates seeing the barista accidentally spill a little of his coffee on the counter. It takes everything in him to not throw the cup away out of spite. It takes everything in him to not react violently over something so small. 
“You will build your life on pillars of order,” Dr. Mercer had once told him. Pillars of order. Pillars of order. Pillars of order.
He’s trying to be better every day. He tries to follow his code, but it’s so hard without someone to guide him, like a North Star. Even though he doesn’t have that anymore, he still tries to be better. He still tries to act normal. Often though, he wonders if he’ll ever be able to live his life on his own without a guiding light. 
No, he thinks to himself. Because people get hurt. Every time. Including him. Most of all, including him. 
As he takes a sip of his hazelnut coffee, he immediately frowns at the taste. It’s not hazelnut at all—it’s mocha. He hates mocha. And he hates the fact even more that he has to go back inside that dreadful place and order a new coffee—one they will probably charge him again for. 
And of course, the line of people. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Was it the people he didn’t like, or the thought of interacting with them? 
After five whole minutes of waiting in line—Nadeem would be on his ass for being late—Dex finally approaches the same barista at the counter who took his order before. As calmly as he can, he forces a smile.
“Hi. I ordered a hazelnut coffee, but I got a mocha instead. Could I please get a new cup?” Dex asks as he tries to ask the question like he hasn’t rehearsed it in his head a thousand times. He slides the cup across the counter. 
The barista, a young man with red hair and freckles, nods and looks at the screen in front of him. He frowns. Dex’s heart plummets in his stomach. 
“I’m so sorry. We just sold our last hazelnut of the day. We can do—“
“He can have mine,” a third voice interjects. The person it comes from is feminine—light, and friendly. Qualities Dex isn’t used to being around. Qualities Dex pretends to have. When he follows the sound of the voice, he meets a young woman standing a few feet beside him. 
She's younger than him, but not by much. She has the most beautiful smile and kindest eyes he’s ever seen. The smoothest, most perfect face. Yes, she’s perfect, he thinks. Perfect to him. He’s speechless as she holds out her cup of hazelnut coffee for him to take. 
“I didn’t drink from it yet if that makes you feel better,” she said sheepishly as she caught him staring at her. 
“Then what will you have?” Dex asks her. 
“I told myself I’d do one kind act today and not expect anything in return. I’m okay. You can have my coffee,” she smiles again, and Dex’s chest feels as warm as the cup in his hand as she hands it to him. Their fingers brush for the smallest of seconds and it’s entrancing to Dex. He smiles at her—not forced at all. She’s already on her way out as she wishes him a good day. He watches as her shrinking figure exits the coffee shop. He doesn’t want this to be the last time he ever sees her. She's the first person to show him an ounce of kindness in a long time. Her hair swayed back and forth as she walked out the door and it flew behind her as the wind came in. She's the most beautiful person he’s seen in a long time. 
And she was so nice to him. That feeling was addictive. 
“Sir?” The young barista called. “I need to take the next guest’s order.”
Dex ignores him, ignores all the people in the coffee shop he pushes past. His gaze is stuck on her path. He follows where she left, her coffee in his hand. He exits the coffee shop. How could she already be gone from his reach?
  He sees her down the block as she makes a right turn. 
Dex isn’t far behind. 
***
The next time he sees her, he owes her a coffee. 
He made sure to get to the coffee shop earlier than normal the next day. He ordered two medium hazelnut coffees from the same barista who had taken his order the previous day. Dex feels lighter in his step—a rare surge of confidence in his entire body. He even decided to wear his FBI bomber jacket. He normally liked to hide what his profession was but thought that maybe it would impress her… and hopefully not scare her. He brushed his dirty blonde hair neatly and even sprayed on cologne. 
He waited at a table near the front and kept an eye on the clock. He had enough time to bring her coffee and make it to work before nine. He watched the door like a hawk, watching carefully as each person entered the shop.
And then finally, she came in. 
She wore a long trench coat and tall boots. Her hair was freshly windblown and she looked slightly flustered, like she was in a rush. Good thing she wouldn’t have to wait in the already growing line to order coffee. 
Dex sees as she audibly sighs at the sight of the line. 
“I owe you a coffee,” Dex calls out confidently as he rises from his seat. She looks over at him, frazzled at first, until recognition settles in her features and she seems to—dare he think—calm down. He’s made her calm down. 
“You don’t,” she says carefully, eyes glancing at the FBI logo on his jacket, “but something tells me if I don’t accept this coffee, you’ll put me on the Most Wanted list.”
Dex laughs—a real laugh—and hands her the cup of coffee. Their fingers brush again. He’s entranced by her touch, again. 
“I could never,” Dex says. “I didn’t get to say thank you for yesterday. So thank you. You have no idea how messed up my day could’ve been without my morning cup.”
“Trust me, I do,” she smiled. “And you’re welcome. And thank you—for my cup today,” she blushed as she fumbled over her words. Dex felt that familiar warm feeling spread through his chest the longer he looked at her. 
“I’m Ben Poindexter… or Dex,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand. She accepts it with ease and shakes his hand. She introduces herself and smiles. Dex repeats her name in his mind to memorization. 
“On your way to work?” He asks. 
“Yeah,” she answers, “late, honestly. But now that I got my coffee early, I can spare a few minutes. Where’s the uh—FBI office?”
“Just a few blocks down. Mind if I walk with you?”
“Not at all,” she smiles. 
Dex holds the door for her and lets her walk out first. He scans the area outside—normally he doesn’t check for threats (like he should) but now he has a reason to make sure the surrounding area is safe. 
They both begin to walk down the block. He matches her steps. 
“What do you do?” Dex asks. 
“I work at a therapist’s office. Client relations—not as daunting as being an FBI agent—is that what you are?”
“Special Agent,” Dex gently corrects. Dex perks when she mentions she works at a therapist’s office. “It’s not as fancy as it sounds, though.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen some shit,” she replies, shivering a little.“I can’t imagine.”
“Yeah, it can get tough,” he sighs, “but you get used to it after a while. Do you like working at the therapist’s office ?”
“I do. You learn a lot about people. I’m not a doctor, but I help where I can.”
“You must have a lot of patience,” Dex muses. He enjoys the cool breeze hitting his face. She looks like she's fighting against it. If the cold weather were a physical being, he’d choke the living life out of it for making her uncomfortable.
“I try to,” she smiles again, crossing her arms across her chest to keep warm. Dex feels a strong urge to wrap his arm around her, but he doesn’t. 
Dex already knows where her work building is—he followed her yesterday up until a certain point. He’s passed his office already. He doesn’t care. As long as he knows she makes it to work safely—he doesn’t care. 
The rest of the walk, they make small talk. Dex doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, the entire time walking, he’s thinking of ways to ask her out on a date. Do I run into her at the coffee shop again? Do I ask her right now? 
Finally, she stops in front of her building. She takes a sip of her hazelnut coffee that Dex bought for her and smiles at him. Dex catches her smile and looks away, almost shy.
“Thank you again for returning the favor, even though you didn’t have to,” she held up her cup in a cheersed way. Dex shrugs, and shakes his head. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly. “Was it a good cup?”
“Yes,” she nods. “Hit the spot.”
If it wasn’t good, Dex thinks he might’ve taken it out of her hands and thrown it against the building. Nothing should ever disappoint her, or not live up to her standards. He’s relieved she enjoyed it. 
“Could I—ask you out for dinner, sometime?” Dex stutters slightly, as he feels his heart pound against his chest. From the way she smiles at his question, it puts him at ease. 
“You could… but are you going to?” She teases, squinting her eyes a little at the handsome blonde FBI agent before her. Dex laughs and looks down sheepishly, before meeting her eyes again. 
“Would you like to have dinner with me this Friday night?” Dex officially asks her, smoothing any nervousness in his voice. Confidence.  
“Yes,” she nods. “I would love to.” Dex can’t help the blush that creeps on his cheeks. She’s holding her coffee as she searches through her bag for her phone. She almost drops the cup before Dex—with lightning reflexes—catches it before gravity can win. 
“Oh my goodness,” she gasps. “I would’ve been so sad if I dropped it! Thank you—again," she breathes. Dex smiles and holds the cup for her as she looks for her phone. 
“It’s no problem,” he says. 
She asks for his phone number and sends him a text so he’ll have her number saved. Dex is impressed by the way she takes the initiative to his contact information. She must really be interested—though definitely not as interested as he is. He feels his phone buzz in his jacket, confirming he received her text. 
“Well, have a good day, Dex,” she says in a sing-song way, a way Dex will never forget. “I’ll see you on Friday.”
***
She wasn’t one to go to someone’s house after a first date, but Dex might be testing that theory for her. 
She’s watching him carefully over the leather-bound menu. Stealing glances and looks every so often as she pretends to look over the list of red wines. Squinting her eyes, studying his face. He’s completely focused on the menu—he almost looks confused as he reads it. It’s a confusing menu because the place Dex chose has four Michelin Stars. She doesn’t mind though. It buys her time to keep looking at him. 
His skin looks soft…but it’s the way his jaw cuts that brings a sort of harshness to his look. No less handsome, however. She’s not sure if it’s because she knows he’s an FBI agent, but his presence is commanding, whether he realizes it or not. Commanding and sweet at the same time. Even the way his hands look strong and have surely held a gun against someone (because isn’t that what FBI agents do?) are now holding the menu so softly… it’s mesmerizing to see such hands that are capable of doing rugged things hold a leather-bound menu so gently. It only makes her wonder what else he could handle with gentleness—or roughness. Whatever she wants. 
“What are you thinking of getting?” Dex asks her, his silky voice bringing her out of her train of thought. She inhales sharply and quickly scans the menu again. 
“I think a glass of cabernet,” she replies, “and the burrata to start?”
“I was thinking the same,” he grins, warm brown eyes looking into hers. She glances away quickly—the way she feels when he looks at her is unsettling by how much she likes it. “You look really beautiful, by the way.”
And of course… he had to make it worse. There was no use in fighting the blush on her cheeks. She smiled. 
“Thank you.”
The waiter took their orders, and Dex watched her carefully as she spoke. She was pleasant. She smiles at the waiter—but not the same kind of smile she gives to him. Dex leans back in the velvet chair and sighs in content. He never thought he would get this far with her. 
When it was finally the two of them, Dex cleared his throat. 
“So, you do client relations at a therapist’s office? What does that exactly mean?”
“I greet them, I bring them into the room before the doctor gets there. I ask them questions and fill out their intake form. I’m basically a glorified receptionist except sometimes I get to ‘play’ therapist,” she explains rather sheepishly. Dex thinks anyone would be lucky enough to be greeted by her. If he were a patient, he’d ask to never see the doctor. 
“Do you want to become one?” He asks with curiosity. 
“I think one day,” she answers. “I like talking to people. Never mind doing it to help—sometimes just a person to talk to is all someone needs.”
Ain’t that the truth, Dex thinks to himself. “I agree. I used to see a therapist myself.”
“Really? There’s no shame in it at all.”
“I know… well. We’ll save that conversation for another time.”
“Have you always been in the FBI? I’m not even sure I know what the requirements or credentials are,” she asks. 
Dex laughs, “It’s a lot of background checks and training before you start. And no, I haven’t always been in the FBI. I was in the army before.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Oh, wow. Thank you for your service. Now I definitely think you’ve seen some shit. And I can see why you’d go to therapy. Why did you stop? You said you used to see one.”
Dex sighs uncomfortably. She picks up on it immediately. 
“Never mind. You said another time. Have you always wanted to be in the FBI?”
Dex smiles a little, appreciative of the way she stopped the conversation about his therapist. 
“I used to want to be a professional baseball pitcher,” he admits. 
“I love that. Do you still play?” 
“Not really,” he says softly. “Other interests came to mind. Life.”
“I know what you mean. Life.”
A comfortable silence falls between them—they catch each other gazing into the other’s eyes and laughing at the same time. Dex can’t remember the last time he felt so enamored with someone, so comfortable and so attracted. He’s grateful for running out of coffee that morning. He’s grateful the barista got his order wrong. Most of all, he’s grateful for the young woman who sits across from him at this restaurant. And he’s grateful for the way she’s smiling at him. 
***
It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree to go to his place after dinner. While she promised herself she wouldn’t let it get too far, she was curious to see where the night would go. Dex held her hand the entire walk back to his apartment. She cuddled against his arm, an attempt to feel more warm. Dex pulled her in closer. 
He lived in a humble building just outside of Hell’s Kitchen. His apartment was even more humble: small, but very nice. White walls. White marble countertop without a spec on it. Everything was in its place from the spices to the napkins. Everything was labeled. His couch was placed perfectly in the middle of the room. Picture frames were all aligned on the walls. He dimmed the lights a little. 
From where she stood, she could see his bedroom door slightly ajar. She caught a glimpse of his bed with white sheets—his bed was perfectly made. From how organized and clean he seemed to be, she thought he would freak out to see her mismatched decorations and colorful bedsheets. 
“This is such a nice place,” she said aloud.
“Thank you. I don’t ever have guests, so I’m sorry if it’s a little boring.”
“Not at all,” she moved to sit in the corner of his gray couch. She placed her bag on the floor, and Dex picked it up to move on the coffee table. 
“It’s better to keep it clean off the floor,” Dex murmured as he sat down next to her with two glasses of red wine. He gave her a soft smile as he handed her a glass, which she gladly accepted. They clinked glasses and took a sip, all while holding each other’s gaze. 
“Can I tell you something?” Dex asks suddenly. 
“Of course.”
“I haven’t done this in a while,” Dex gestures to the two of them. “It takes a lot in me to do this. I—I really wanted to ask you out. And I’m happy you’re here. I just—“ he feels himself breathing fast. It’s an awful habit he has, getting overwhelmed by every little thought in his head. Bring a beautiful girl into the mix—it was a terrible concoction for his mind to handle. His mind won’t allow him to enjoy this pleasure because it’s already thinking of ways it could go wrong. Like she’ll never want to see him again.
“Hey,” she whispered, placing a hand on his knee to calm him down. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathes out in embarrassment, covering half his face with his hand. 
“Don’t need to be sorry,” she said softly. 
“I just don’t want this to be the last I see of you,” he admits. “I had such a good time at dinner and here you are now—“
“Dex,” she began, “I had an amazing time at dinner with you. Truthfully, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to come to your place. I’m happy I’m here. If it’s all the same to you, I definitely don’t want this to be the last I see you.”
“Absolutely,” Dex agrees immediately, turning to face her more. “I’m so happy you’re here too. I’m happy you gave me your coffee that morning and it’s led to this.”
She smiles. “Me too.”
Her hand is still on his knee. Dex is reminded of it when he feels that area of his leg getting warmer from her touch. He glances down at her hand on him and memorizes the image. He doesn’t want to imagine too much, imagine her hand slowly trailing up his thigh… 
To stop his thoughts, he places his hand on top of hers and trails his fingers up the length of her arm, until he reaches her neck and brushes his fingers through her hair. He brings her closer to him, some force guiding him with confidence. Her eyes are half closed as he slowly brings her in for a kiss. A kiss. 
He first brushes his lips against hers, almost as a way to ask if this was okay—if the way he was guiding her to him was okay. She doesn’t protest. Dex kisses her softly at first, memorizing the way her lips feel on his. And then he kisses her with a newfound force. She opens her mouth for him to enter his tongue and Dex breathes her in. He places his arms around her waist and lifts her up and into his lap so she’s straddling him on his couch. She has her hands on either side of his face as she kisses him just as passionately, holding him in place. He runs his hands up and down her back, pulling and pushing her to and fro himself. 
He pulls back, breathless, and looks up at her. 
“You’re perfect,” he whispers, running his hands in disbelief through her hair. “Everything about you is perfect.”
She kisses him again and again. Dex’s heart is pounding like it never has in his chest, so much it hurts, so much he thinks his life depends on kissing her. After a while, he pulls back again. 
“Let me take you home,” Dex whispers in her ear. “I don’t want to get too far, and we’re treading that line.”
She can’t help but laugh, even though she agrees. “Okay. Walk me home.”
Dex holds her hand the entire walk home. When she says they’ve arrived at her apartment building, she kisses Dex one last time and makes him promise he’ll text her as soon as he gets home.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Dex smirks, enamored by the look in her eyes. 
“I do,” she argues, “I do now.” 
“Goodnight,” Dex whispers. 
He watches as she walks into her building and enters the elevator. Dex moves across the street and waits to see which apartment light turns on. When he sees one turn on, he immediately falls into a dark alley and pulls out a mini telescope. 
He found her. And he watches her. Through a small slip of her curtain. He watches as she moves around her kitchen and living room. She changes into a silk robe in her bedroom. 
He stays there for another two hours until she’s turned off the lights and headed to bed. 
“Goodnight,” Dex whispers to her from afar. 
79 notes · View notes
hjbirthdaywishes · 1 year
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February 24, 2023
Happy 39 Birthday to Wilson Bethel. 
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cieric-of-chaos · 7 months
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that scene where dex talks to frozen Julie while sitting in his car....how did he even get her there like... Did he wait for her to thawed out for a bit before moving her
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beefrobeefcal · 15 days
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Let's Get Physical! feat. Marcus Pike & f!Reader
a Marcus Pike one shot | Rated: 18+ | word count: 3,883 warnings: swearing, rougher p in the v unprotected sex, fingering, talk about weight gain, belly appreciation, self esteem issues surrounding weight, reader is assumed to be shorter and lighter than Marcus, reader has long enough hair for Marcus to grip,
A/N: Okay y'all... here's the mam himself! Thank you to @rebel-held for their dedication and holding vigil for his arrival, and for @yahtiwakitakos for their love of Marcus! Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalpascal & @neverwheremoonchild for their eyes & thoughtful insight.
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As soon as you’d gotten the desk next to Marcus, he knew you’d be friends. He’d transferred out of being on the field and to the home office in your state after a personal matter had him decide to transfer. Since that point, you’d worked closely together, learning almost everything you could about one another.
You’d taken to him almost immediately, but his kind and aloof manner kept you from pushing further to see if there was something more. You’d eventually fallen into a content and friendly rapport that turned into a work-based friendship.
Marcus learned about your love of reading, allowing you to collect obscure information, and you’d learned that he did not cook, opting for take out at every meal.
You’d even earned nicknames from one another. You called him Pickles after a long-forgotten joke about his last name, and he called you Dex, short for Poindexter, given you aptitude for Trivial Pursuit.
You worked side by side for four years, and in that time, you’d noted that Marcus had gained weight, but it wasn’t that noticeable – it was gradual. His clothing had always fit. He'd never had an ill-fitting suit or a too-tight dress shirt or jacket. Yes, you'd notice his weight fluctuate and increase, but he camouflaged it well with his clothing.  Sure, he’d developed a bit of a softer jawline under the scruff on his face - it enhanced his pout with those big brown eyes; and yeah, his middle looked less trim, as did his thighs…
You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care – Marcus was your friend.
You repeated those lies every time he’d look up at you and ask if you were ready for lunch or pat your shoulder as he said you’d done a good job. You did notice his waistline increasing and you thought it was sexy and hot, but your own internal battle with self image and weight had tarnished your ability to admit you liked heavier men and watched to help them get heavier.
You so badly wished he was more than a friend. He was kind and sweet, and never swore, even going so far as to tell you to ‘behave’ or ‘watch your mouth’ when you left an f-bomb slip. The way his big brown eyes watched you, you wished they were imagining you naked and crying out for him, and as you’d lose yourself in this fiction, he’d bring you back to earth, asking if you’d read the latest case file.
You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care because Marcus was your friend.
*****
“Morning, Dex!”, he called as he meandered to his desk. He had two coffees in his hands from your favourite coffee shop… the one that was out of the way for him to get to on his way to the office… the one he only stopped at when he either needed a favour or had bad news.
You narrowed your eyes at him and motioned to the coffee with a pointed finger. “Stop. What’s that for?”
“Just wanted to get my best girl a coffee. S’that a crime?”, he smiled, trying to force as much innocence from his eyes as possible.
You didn’t move from your position and raised your brow. He sighed and put the coffees on the desk and slumped his shoulders, letting his work satchel drop to the floor.
“I need your help.”
“I knew it.”
“But you can’t laugh.”
His last statement made you freeze. Looking up at him, his face looked slightly pained as his winced, waiting for the sign to continue.
“Out with it, Pickles.”
“They want agents to be in the field. I saw the sign last night as I was leaving, so I looked into it. Don’t get me wrong – love the office but I miss field work.”
He paused, eyes searching your face for approval. You could see the worry on him, the fear of rejection to his idea. You nodded, arms gently moving from their crossed position, and you reached for the cup closest to you on his desk and took a sip. It was good coffee and you hummed in approval.
Marcus let out a breath he more than likely didn’t realize he was holding and continued. “There’s a catch thought – I have to pass a physical.”
You just about spat our coffee out and swallowed it funny, causing you to start coughing. You waved him off, sputtering an ‘I’m okay.’ as you motioned for him to keep talking.
“Yeah… uh – so the physical.”, he said slowly, watching you carefully with a bit of worry.  “I have to pass the one I did when I was a rookie… the one we all had to pass. You sure you’re okay?”
You nodded again, trying to get the image of Marcus huffing and puffing on a treadmill, sweaty and just a plain mess… the same way you’d imagined he’d be on top of you… rutting and jack hammering you into your mattress…
“Yeah! Just peachy, Pickles!”, you croaked, the rasped out a laugh. “You want to go in the field and leave me behind? Be Mister Bigshot and meet some other prettier coworker to bring coffee?”
You were trying to tease him, but your words and the sharpness of your tongue sounded like they aimed to wound, and it wasn’t lost on Marcus.
“Well, why not come with me? We could be partners.”
Your heart fluttered at the thought of travelling with Marcus to different art crime scenes. You’d never been able to shake the stories he told about the weird things he’d investigated in the field. Yeah, there were the big things, but you were more intrigued by the obscure things he’d investigated, like the unnamed famous actor who’s inadvertently bought stolen vintage clown pornography, or the weird old grumpy suburban guy who cluelessly had a priceless - albeit mundane - horse painting hanging in his bedroom, or the time some government worker was caught at the airport with illegally imported erotic art from South America that reeked of cigarettes.
The idea had merit and you nodded, cautiously optimistic.
*****
"Look, I know what I said, but maybe...", Marcus called out from behind the bathroom door. "...maybe I am a little more out of shape than I thought." You stopped your advancement down the hallway and chuckled with a smile.
"What are you talking about?"
"It... it-uh... it fits... different."
You paused and as the cogs in your head turned, trying to decipher what he meant. It hit you and you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face as your smile exploded into a wide-eyed grin.
If what you were thinking was true, the gym clothing that was standard issue for all new FBI trainees - and would be the required outfit for his upcoming physical fitness test - would give you an eye full of how pudgy he'd really gotten. While sitting in your thoughts, your silence made Marcus nervous.
Deciding to just rip the band-aid off, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out.
Your jaw dropped.
You’d seen the pictures of him during training. The clean-shaven sharp jaw and trim toned body clad in a too big t-shirt and knee length shorts.
That was not who stood before you. His shorts, while tighter, still looked like they fit. But that poor t-shirt was pulled tight across his broad chest and shoulders, and the hem was unable to traverse his ample middle, exposing about an inch above his belly button down to the curve of his underbelly and giving you a full view of his love handles.  
His face was flushed, and his eyes pleaded with you. You cleared your throat and smiled, trying to hide the fact that your core was clenching on nothing.
“It fits!”, you managed to squeak out and Marcus look at you stupefied and held his hands open to his sides.
“Really?”, he asked in exasperation, raising his eyebrows. “You think this – “, he motioned to his middle. “- qualifies as fitting?”
“I mean, you got it on? That means it sort of fits?” You winced as you spoke, trying to keep a pleasant smile.
“Fuck!”
You jumped as he let out one the loudest ‘fuck’s you’d ever heard, and your eyes grew wide that it was him who yelled it. He threw his hands up in the air and stood with his hands on his hips, knee popped. His jaw tensed as he looked away, stuck in thought, and you took the opportunity to gaze over his body, noting the way his stomach moved with each frustrated breath and the way his shoulders pulled the absolute life out of the shirt’s seams.
You were lost in thought ogling him and didn’t notice that he’d turned his attention back to you. When you finally looked up at him, both feeling your faces heat up slightly and an awkward silence sat heavy between you.
You decided to break the silence first, clearing your throat again. “Pickles, you… you look great.”
Marcus stated to laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him.
“I know I look like a busted overstuffed sausage – “
“Oh, stop it!”, you hushed him, stepping towards him. “Okay, sure, it doesn’t fit quite the same, but nobody stays the same size their whole life.”
He rolled his eyes with a smirk and nodded. “Fine.”
*****
So far, all the equipment in his apartment complex’s gym were now Marcus’ sworn enemies. The last three hours had been filled with Marcus angrily sweating and using every curse and swearword under the sun. He was so focused on being angry that he forwent any self consciousness about his clothes not fitting.
After another failed attempt at trying to navigate the elliptical, he yelled “PISSING SHITTING FUCKING COCK SUCKING MOTHER FUCKER!!”  and stormed out of the gym. You quickly grabbed the things he left in his departure and followed him.
*****
“Fuck it! I’m not fucking doing this!”, he boomed, furiously ripping open his refrigerator and grabbing the carton of chocolate milk and chugged it.
You quietly tried to get him to water to hydrate, and contemplated asking why his swearing sounded so natural when you’d never heard him use anything harsher than ‘fiddlesticks’ prior to this. “Marcus… maybe some water would – “
He finished the chocolate milk then tossed the carton haphazardly into the sink, and his eyes aggressively looked you up and down. You closed your mouth and stood, light a deer in headlights, nervously fidgeting your hands as you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face.
“Don’t look at me like that! I know what you’re thinking!”, he barked at you, making you jump. “God dammit! You think I’m too fat and out of fucking shape to pass that physical! And you know what?”, he yelled, grabbing one of the giant pretzels he’d picked up yesterday from the kiosk in the mall. “You’re fucking right!”
He angrily bit into the pretzel and chewed, then huffed and ripped open the fridge again and grabbed a king-size can a beer. You watched, bewildered and bewitched, as he maneuvered between chomps and gulps of the pretzel and beer.
You’d never seen him this enraged and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Sure, you’d seen him get snide or lippy when he was frustrated, but you had no idea he could turn his temper up to eleven and he had such a vast array of foul words in his vocabulary – and find it so hot. You were staring at him, seeing that once he’d finished the pretzel, his hand went to his underbelly, pitching and kneading it slightly as he downed the rest of the beer. Your eyes were then pulled to his crotch in the almost too-small shorts and the noticeable bulge that had developed there.
Your lips parted and your brows tented. Marcus kept his eyes on your face, seeing the reaction you were having to his meltdown. It egged him on, knowing that you were getting something out of this. He’d longed for the chance to get to hold you beyond the occasional side hug or shoulder bump, wanting to touch you and make you feel as beautiful as he saw you. But he’d assumed you were completely fine being friends, given the way his weight had creeped up. He didn’t want to lose you by making a move and wrecking the chance to get the pieces of you that you allowed him to have access to. He’d stayed respectful, and courteous, and friendly, all while desperately wishing he was yours. But all that went out the window the moment he felt rage course through his veins and saw you look at him like that. He wanted you to be his.
He threw the empty beer can aside, hearing its tinny landing by the sink, and stalked towards you. Taken slightly aback at how aggressive his body language was, you stepped back and were stopped by the counter behind you. Marcus crowded you, standing over you, his belly moving against you with every ragged, angry breath.
“Marc – “
His name was cut off in your mouth as his collided with yours. He roughly grabbed your waist with one huge hand while the other held your face. He dominated the kiss, his tongue pushing for entrance again your lips, and you let him in, tasting the hoppy beer and salty yeast of the pretzel. As the passion built between you, the kiss deepened, becoming more fervent and urgent. His hands roamed, pulling you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. There was no rhythm to this kiss; it was him exploring and dominating and you submitting to him and your desperate needs.
You finally parted, panting and breathless. He looked beautiful; his eyes were dark with blown pupils and his lips were reddened.  The hand that had held your waist moved down to the crux of your thighs and pressed against your Athleisure legging-clad core. Your mouth opened and a soft, breathy whine barely sounded out. The fury in his eyes had ebbed and morphed into an aggressive and possessive need, but he watched you, looking for any sign to stop. You gave nothing but green lights.
He leaned his face closer to yours, his nose nudging your cheek. You let out a small whimper and nodded, tilting your head, and he grazed his teeth along your cheek to your jaw, then bit down softly. With his mouth on you, he growled through his teeth, “Mine.”
He pulled back and turned your around, pushing your palms onto the counter, and he stood flush with his front to your back. As he grinded against you and bit and kissed your neck, he pushed your leggings down over your ass with one hand, the other pushed between your legs in the front.
“Oh fuck… you’re soaked, baby…”, he growled, biting the back of your neck. His middle finger ran along your seam, pulling a mewling whine from your mouth.
“You want me? Tell me you want me.”
When you didn’t answer beyond a frantic nod, he said your name in a low snarl and his grip on you tightened. “I asked you a question.”
“Mar-Marcus! Please!”, you cried out, feeling his finger circle then tap your throbbing nub repeatedly. You felt him smile against your neck, his other hand palming and squeezing your tit, and he started fucking into your wet heat with his pointer and index fingers.
“You’re so gorgeous… so funny… so smart… and you’re letting this fat guy finger you in his kitchen…”
His thumb caught your clit in the haste of his hand’s movement, and you let out a surprised yelp and your body jolted. The hand gripping your breast came up your sternum and secured itself around your throat gently, forcing you upright and flush against him.
“Juicy little snatch… just gripping my fingers, baby… you - you gonna cum for me, Dex baby?”
You whined and nodded. His hand moved up and he pushed two fingers into your mouth, exerting the power he had over you. He did it because he could, because you let him. You were both learning more about the other: he wanted to dominate, you wanted to be dominated.
You came as he pressed your tongue down, almost eliciting a gag from you. It felt filthy and raw and everything you’d hoped but never thought Marcus could be.
“There is it… Good girl… You’re mine… I’m gonna fuck that into you.”, he grunted and pulled both sets of fingers from your wet holes, shoving you down flush with the counter.
You’d barely finished cumming, let alone gotten through the aftershocks making your cunt flutter as he shoved his shorts down and lined up his cock with you and pushed in.
“Jesus fuck…”, you groaned. “You’re s’fucking big!”
“You like me big… say it. Say you like me being a fat desk jockey…”
“Yes… god yes…”
“Like seeing me eat, too, huh?... like watching me get fat?”
“Yes! Please… Marcus, please!”
You felt the beginnings of another orgasm as he pounded into you from behind and filled your mind with the images of him stuffing himself stupid on take out at work while you sat on his lap and helped feed him. It was a guilt-filled fantasy that you’d never allowed yourself to fully process and accept until this moment.
Marcus pulled out of you suddenly. Fearing you did something wrong, you made a frantic and breathless ‘huh?’ sound. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder.
“Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum, Dex.”
You couldn’t help but smile; Marcus was ever the romantic.
He tossed you on the bed and crawled up to you, pushing your legs apart. He took a moment to look at your pussy, smirking with a smug head shake, then locked eyes with you. He leaned forward, one hand landing beside your head and his other hand grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him, guiding his cock back into your desperate, wet cunt.
“Look at you… just gorgeous… “, he marveled with smug satisfaction as he pounded into you, watching your eyes close, brows furrow, and lips part to let out a soft pant.
His thumb came down on your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles. “Come on, Dex… gimme one so I can watch… lemme see…”
“Marcus… I’m close…”
“I know, pretty girl… give it to me… come on… gimme one I can see…”
“Yes… right there! Right there!”
His thumb hit just the right angle and you fell apart as he pistoned you on his cock. Your hand reached up, gripping the arm above your head, and you arched your back in pure bliss.
“There it is… there you go… fuck, good girl… look at you… so god dammed pretty…”
The noises you made sounded alien coming from your mouth. You’d never heard this cacophony of whines, cries, mewls and moans come from your body before, and Marcus was revelling in it. He removed his thumb form your oversensitive nub, and he brought him body down onto your as he continued to thrust into you. His weight felt amazing; it was everything and ore than what you could have hoped, and you needed more of it on you. You hooked one leg on his hip, then brought the other one up, trying to lock your ankles. Marcus was too big, his love handled waist too wide and his thrusts now to frantic to get a good latch.
You raised your head and captured his mouth in a messy kiss, and he interlocked his fingers into yours. He panted into your mouth as you made eye contact; gone was the ferocious and angry man who’d fucked you in his kitchen and back was Marcus: sweet, funny, soft Marcus.
“Come on, Pickles.”, you whispered against his lips with a wry grin.
The surrendering groan that tumbled out of him matched perfectly with his out of rhythm thrusts.
“You gonna let me cum in you? Please?”, he panted, hips stuttering.
Nodding, you desperately whined, “Yeah… yes, please… please… c-cum in me!”
Marcus dropped his forehead onto yours. With a few more snaps of his hips with corresponding grunts, he let out a string of groans and panting breaths, then stilled in you.
You were both breathing hard, and his fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly in yours as he came down from his high. Your mouth found his again briefly, then he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. His brows furrowed and his eyes softened further, as if the weight of what had just happened suddenly dawned on him and he was worried this was it for the two of you.
“Hey… hey hey hey…”, you soothed, hand coming up to cup his cheek, a soft smile on your face. “It’s okay… I’m okay.”
He nodded, still unsure, the blurted out, “I like you so much, Dex. I wanted this for so long…and I wanted it to be special, and – “
“It was special!”, you beamed with a smile, loving how adorably flustered he looked in contrast to before. “You hulked out and railed me in your kitchen!”
He stopped and looked at you, dumbfounded. Slowly, a smile peaked out on one side of his mouth. “You liked that.”, he huffed out in a laugh. “Dex, you kinky girl!”
You laughed and playfully slapped his arm. “Knock it off, Pickles!”
He pulled his softening cock from you and kissed you, both of you giggling.
Marcus pulled away and teased, “You liked getting railed by a fat guy… in the kitchen…”
“Yeah, I did!”, you challenged with a smile. “And I hope that fat guy does it again!”
His breath hitched and he swallowed, looking away for a moment. “So, you’re okay with…?”
He couldn’t finish saying what he wanted to. Years of poor self esteem and heart-breaking moments with other women wouldn’t let him, nor did that part of him want to hear your answer in case it was rejection. Your hand guided his face back to you.
“I wouldn’t have let you if I wasn’t.
His smile softened. “How about a date first?”
You couldn’t help the heat and shy smile that bloomed on your face, and he watched as you melted into his words.
*****
Marcus walked into the office the next Monday, carrying another two coffees from your favourite place. You were preoccupied with one of your coworkers but shit him a smile before returning your attention to the file before you.
He placed the coffees down, hung his coat and bag, then noticed the collection of tupperwear containers with a sticky note on them.
Getting takeout is fine, but this is a sampling of what I can do for you. Xoxo Dex.
He opened a few of the containers and in them were homemade versions of his absolute favourite take out meals. He brought one to his nose and inhaled, just as your coworker left the room. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, patting and squeezing his belly.
Marcus deciding he wasn’t ever going to need to pass a physical again.
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superherokisser · 6 months
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my f/o list :D
ok so bolded means i’m uncomfortable sharing them but it is (probably) ok if we are mutuals/friends and if you have them as a platonic/familial f/o!!!
also it is a long ass list😭 i have a lot of love to give. alssooo group tag for all my kids is kiddos <3 bc im lazy and some f/os i feel rlly strong about and some are just for fun yk!!!
-lloyd garmadon from ninjago (it’s complicated but i love him dearly)
-michael afton from fnaf (romantic) tag: terchael <3
-henry emily from fnaf (parental figure/dad)
-espresso cookie from crk/cookie run (romantic) tag: esence <3
-jeremy fitzgerald from blueycapsules/fnaf (romantic) tag: jerence <3
-thoma from genshin impact (romantic) tag: teroma <3
-aether from genshin impact (romantic) tag: terraether <3
-sammy from my mind/oc (kid/familial) 
-gregory from fnaf (kid/familial)
-charlie/charlotte emily from fnaf (sister/familial)
-maven calore from the red queen series (romantic)
-alex from stardew valley (romantic)
-christopher lightwood from the shadowhunter chronicles (platonic)
-princess peach from nintendo (platonic)
-peggy carter from marvel (romantic) tag: every girl has her rose <3
-daniel sousa from marvel’s agent carter (queerplatonic)
-logan howlett from marvel (romantic) tag: logence <3
-natasha romanoff from marvel (platonic)
-diana prince from dc (platonic, maybe romantic??)
-pepper potts from marvel (platonic)
-sam wilson from marvel (romantic) tag: tersam <3
-steve rogers from marvel (romantic) tag: red white and irish blue <3
-magnus bane from the shadowhunter chronicles (platonic)
-apple white from ever after high (queerplatonic) tag: whipped apples <3
-bruce wayne from dc (romantic) tag: batarangs pierced my heart <3
-clark kent from dc (queerplatonic) tag: 💙❤️
-simon lewis/lovelace from the shadowhunter chronicles (queerplatonic i think)
-sharon carter from marvel (platonic/shes my niece technically)
-damian wayne from dc (familial/kid)
-jason todd from dc (familial/kid)
-dick grayson from dc (familial/kid)
-cass(andra) cain from dc (familial/kid)
-barbara gordon from dc (familial/kid)
-steph(anie) brown from dc (familial/kid)
-tim drake from dc (familial/kid)
-duke thomas from dc (familial/kid)
-laura kinney from marvel (familial/kid)
-sue richards/storm from marvel (platonic)
-alfred pennyworth from dc (platonic)
-selina kyle from dc (platonic)
-gabrielle kinney from marvel (grandkid💔)
-patrick bateman from american psycho (romantic) tag: 🎧♥️
-terry mcginnis from batman beyond (familial/kid)
-harper row from dc (familial/kid)
-johnny cade from the outsiders (hes my nephew<3)
-darry curtis from the outsiders (romantic) (fine with sharing but not like. in canon ships yk)
-t’challa from marvel (platonic)
-sodapop curtis from the outsiders (basically my kid/familial)
-ponyboy curtis from the outsiders (basically kid/familial)
-coriolanus snow from the hunger games (romantic) tag: 🖤❄️
-luke fox from dc (platonic)
-lucius fox from dc (platonic)
-mar'i grayson/nightstar from dc/titans (MY GRANDKID!!!!!!!)
-conner kent from dc (nephew)
-jon kent from dc (nephew)
-cassie from fnaf (niece)
-fred from the muppets christmas carol (nephew)
-herb cookie from cookie run (nephew)
-willy wonka from wonka 2023 (nephew)
-cullen row from dc (kid)
-daken akihiro from marvel (kid)
-dex poindexter from daredevil/marvel (romantic) tag: terdex <3
-abdonis from ringfit adventure (romantic)
-hank hall from titans/dc (platonic)
-dawn granger from titans/dc (platonic)
-karen page from daredevil/marvel (romantic) tag: 🤍📰
-amora (the enchantress) from marvel (romantic) tag: enchant me with your love <3
-sally jackson from percy jackson (romantic) tag: 💙✏️
-devon cassidy from i met a girl (platonic)
-dinah madani from the punisher/marvel (romantic) tag: terah <3
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petertingle-yipyip · 10 months
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MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK
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Series Finale - Vigilante Shit
tags: @ironprincessstranger @americaarse @johnmurphys-sass @dusstory @astrobees @mayasaurus--rex @woowwwee // eight // epilogue // masterlist
Pairing: Matt X Reader
Word Count: 13,587 (and you wonder why it took me so long.)
Summary: Ladies always rise above but when one lady’s simply had enough, revenge takes human form in Hell’s Kitchen’s Exodus. With her rightful partner beside her, they take on the Kingpin and his former Bullseye.
“Do you affirm that the testimony you are about to give in the case now before the court will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” The bailiff asked simply as you took your seat on the stand. “This you affirm under the pains and penalties of perjury?”
“Yes.” You nodded calmly. “I do.”
“For the record, please state your name.” The judge said.
“I’m Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N, FBI SWAT. I’ve been with the bureau for a bit less than a year and all statements made here today are my own. My testimony does not reflect the beliefs or positions of the FBI and I accept any and all consequences my statements may bring.” You answered, keeping your eyes ahead as Tower stood and took his place in front of you. “In the short amount of time that I’ve been with the FBI, I’ve witnessed my bureau, specifically members of my team, fall victim to Fisk’s vicious manipulation.”
“Please explain in detail the crimes you’ve witnessed.” He said simply.
“I’ve witnessed slander and false accusations against one of the Nelson and Murdock attorneys responsible for his first arrest. I’ve witnessed a breach of his house arrest. I’ve witnessed his recruitment of agents and using those agents to kill people, both civilians and other agents. I’ve witnessed him coerce other crime syndicates into complying with a tax to ensure protection from federal prosecution.”
“What agents have you seen?”
“Special Agents Arinori and Poindexter, Special Agent in Charge Hattley. Special Agent Rahul Nadeem and myself witnessed but never participated past that and a few targeted raids. Neither of us pulled the trigger for Wilson Fisk, but we did nothing to stop it. There were others but I didn’t interact with them much.”
“The other agents that were mentioned by Agent Nadeem?”
“I believe so. I don’t remember their names but I could pick them out of a lineup.”
“And how many people were killed?”
“SAC Hattley killed Agent Winn. Special Agent Poindexter killed multiple people, I believe he killed the most. Given his unique skill set, he was a prime target for Fisk’s games. Innocent people died because of Wilson Fisk, good people like Father Lantom, because no one on my team was brave enough to come forward.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Who would believe a novice agent who helped put Fisk away in the first place? He knew no one would believe me if I spoke up sooner, given my very outspoken opinions against him. There was an instance, when he brought up the Nelson and Murdock attorney, that I had caused a scene. My words were driven by my sentimentality regarding the firm since I did have a small stint as an attorney there. From there, it didn’t matter what I knew and he recognized that. It didn’t matter how many times Poindexter brought me along without telling me what was really happening. It didn’t matter who I saw get killed or the fact that I was against him leaving the prison to begin with. He knew my credibility was low and I had no evidence so I wasn’t a threat to his plans… Not until someone else had enough. Agent Nadeem helped give me the courage to come forward with what I’ve seen.”
You glanced around at the jury and found them all - save for the one juror - interested in what you would say next. Tower offered a small, proud smile and Ray listened intently with his hands folded in front of him. He gave you a small nod of reassurance.
“It’s a scary thing, to feel like you have no choice but to do things you don’t agree with. Sometimes you go along for self preservation, sometimes for the people you care about. But at the end of it all, we have our limits. We can only take so much deceit before we have to do something…” You allowed your eyes to water, a shakiness to tint your voice and a slight hesitation between your sentences. “I let him convince me that my word wouldn’t matter, that I- I would just be some voice in the wind. I let him take my conviction. But I’m not going to stand down, not anymore. Wilson Fisk is afraid of what we came here to say because it’s true. The attack on our transport wasn’t a coincidence, nor was it an accident. He attempted to have us killed because of what we know and what we came here to say. If he was truly innocent, why is he trying to cover his tracks?”
“You mentioned repercussions before. Do you worry the FBI will punish you for this?”
“Not the FBI, but the agents Fisk controls. My SAC is in his pocket. My partner is in his pocket. Besides Agent Nadeem, in that hotel, I’m alone. No one protects me the way they protect him… If I lose my job, fine. If I lose my partner, okay. But I cannot stand to lose my loved ones.”
“Thank you, Agent.”
You and Ray were led out after that and you met with your friends in the hall. While Matt chatted with Ray, Foggy offered you a proud smile and moved to hug you but you simply pushed his hands away and began pacing a short distance. You pushed your fingers into your hair and tugged slightly on the ends.
Foggy looked over to Matt for help, but he was still in his conversation with Ray. Knowing that a win today would help ensure Matt stayed on the right track, Foggy decided not to cut in and talk to you on his own. He stepped in front of you and put his hands on your upper arms. You looked at him with your lips pressed together and your eyebrows up.
“Talk to me. What’s going on?” Your friend tried, ducking down to meet your eyes.
“It’s shot. The whole thing is shot.” You answered quietly, trying not to gain any more attention. “He didn’t just know about the trial.”
“What do you mean?”
“So what happens now?” Ray asked, drawing both Foggy’s and your attention. His brows furrowed but you stepped past him before he could speak.
You grabbed Matt’s arm and pulled him a couple steps away as Foggy answered Ray’s question.
You leaned in to speak quietly with your hand still gripping his arm and Matt’s hand landed on your elbow.
“What do you hear?” You asked softly.
His brows furrowed as he listened in, taking a step closer to the doors. As he focused, the grip he had on your arm tightened. You closed your eyes and cursed quietly.
“No, no, no.” Matt muttered and you nodded. “The jurors.”
“Fisk got to them.” You confirmed and opened your eyes, rolling your shoulders back and regaining your composure. “I felt it when we went in but I was hoping I was wrong.”
You glanced around the halls and felt a surge of emotions outside. Everyone still seemed entranced in Karen’s press conference. You had to give it to her, the woman was brave.
After a few anxiety ridden minutes, Tower came out of the courtroom with an apologetic expression as he passed your group. You opened your mouth to speak but he simply shook his head and headed to the cameras outside. You tapped your implant and listened in on the live broadcast from outside and you felt your stomach drop.
At this time, the grand jury had elected not to indict Wilson Fisk. But this office, under my leadership, will pursue every lead, every piece of evidence that leads us to uncovering the truth. The agents that testified today were incredibly brave and we encourage anyone with evidence regarding this case to come forward.
Everything outside continued to spike as you shut off your device and one familiar feeling stood out among the chaos.
“Karen.” You said to yourself as the boys began moving. You looked at them for a second before making a move to the doors. A hand closed around your arm and dragged you in the other direction.
“No, I have to-“ You groaned and tried to pull away but you were shoved forward instead. Looking over, you saw it was Matt who dragged you with him.
You took one last look over your shoulder before giving in and following the group. They hurried into the closest restroom and you locked the door behind you all. Ray pushed through and took a minute to himself while being quite literally sick to his stomach.
“It’s not gonna end like this, Ray. We’re not gonna let it.” Matt promised while leaning against the stalls.
Foggy stood by the sinks and you slid down with your back against the door until you were sitting up on your toes. You had elbows on your propped up knees and your chin resting behind your gently balled fists. Your eyes were trained on the floor, tracing the grout lines between the tiles.
Your brain was running through every scenario you could. You thought about whether or not he’d send Dex after you and Ray. It’d have to wait. There’s no way Dex could take you both out in a locked down courthouse. Would he go after Karen for her press conference? Or had he already wrecked her credibility? All you knew for sure was that it needed to end.
“The system will work.” Foggy ensured and you sighed to yourself. 
“You still believe that?” Matt scoffed and you looked up at him.
“Stop it.” You said quietly and he offered a sarcastic expression towards you.
“We’ve been here before. We can fix this.. Tower will impanel another grand jury and try again. We’re not done here. Right, Y/N?”
“What keeps Fisk away from them this time though?” You asked simply as you turned towards your friend. “I wanna do this the right way, Foggy, but it’s not looking too good for us.”
“I told you this would happen.” Matt cut in.
“Matt, stop.” You sighed and pushed yourself to stand. “Fighting each other isn’t gonna help.”
“I need to know where you’re going.” Foggy blocked Matt’s path.
“Guys.” You warned firmly as Matt said “I’m gonna find Tower. Make sure he tries again.”
“I’m going with you.” You offered and you saw him roll his eyes behind his glasses. “Unless there’s a problem?”
“No.” He said tightly. “No problem.”
“Good.” You nodded before leaning closer to Foggy. “Take care of him. Don’t let him lose his nerve.”
Your friend nodded and you grabbed Matt’s arm on the way out.
“God, y’know what, we should’ve just done it our way from the start.” Matt mumbled. 
“Our way?” You laughed. “This is our way. The other thing? That’s my way, Matthew. You’ll never be able to do it and it’s not a bad thing. You can’t force yourself to.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I almost wanna dare you to try because I know you won’t.”
“A lot has changed, Y/N.”
“Sure, but people don’t completely flip on their morals.” You scoffed.
“Maybe I did. You don’t know.”
“Actually I do, because you’re too strong to do it. You have a certain faith in people that you can’t learn. If you were capable of doing what I do, Dex wouldn’t be around anymore. You believe that people can do good. It’s not the worst ideology to hold on to.”
“Clearly not everyone can.”
You stopped walking and yanked his arm to stop him. He groaned and faced you, a tight grip on his cane and a clench to his jaw.
“This isn’t just about you!” You insisted. “You do understand that, right?”
“Of course I know that. You really think I don’t?”
“Why is it your responsibility then?”
“Because it is!”
“So why didn’t you work this hard to stop me?” You challenged quietly. “If not everyone can be better, why didn’t you try to kill me? I gave you every reason to give up on me, treat me this exact same way, but you never did.”
“You’re not the same, Y/N.” He sighed.
“Thankfully, neither are you and I. There’s always been someone taking people from me. Took my parents, Marc, Frank, Yelena and Nat, Billy, even you - twice - and Foggy, now Dex. I’m not gonna lose you a third time.”
“Y/N, I didn’t realize-“
“No, you never do. You never see beyond what you’re doing. You do this and there’s no coming back from it. Something in your heart is gonna change and you can’t change it back. You can’t undo it.”
“I’m sorry. I just want this to be over with.”
“I know but…” You sighed and looked around, shifting your weight between your feet.
You were hit with a sudden feeling of determination. You turned towards where it came from, the bathroom you left Foggy and Ray in. With a quiet curse, you hurried back, only to find Ray gone and Foggy knocked out.
You screamed out in frustration and slammed an angry fist into the mirror, watching it shatter and become stained with the bloody print of your knuckles. You pushed out of the room and back into the hall, scanning the crowds in an effort to find him. But you saw nothing.
Ray was gone. And the clock was ticking on what kind of countermove Fisk would make against him. Against all of you.
You practically ran out of the courthouse, pushing past various security and reporters. They shouted questions, mentioning your badge and asking what side you were testifying for, but ignored them all. Some yelled that you were working for Fisk, you were one of the corrupted agents, but all you offered them was the middle finger.
From there, you ran home. The sun was already setting and you were running out of time. You changed quickly and used your mask to scan as far as it could.
You had finally heard from Rick and you were talking to Seema while wandering the streets.
“Is he gonna be okay?” Seema asked towards the end of the conversation.
“I wish I could tell you for sure… But I can’t. What we’ve done has put a massive target on us and our loved ones. All I know is that yours and Sami’s safety is all he cares about.”
“Tell him I love him.”
“I will. When I find him, he’ll call for goodbyes and then you can send a pin to that number I gave you. After that, ditch the phone.”
It wasn’t until hours later did you find him.
He went home.
You practically sprinted through the neighborhood to get there. The front door was open, side gate cracked, and the police tape was stretched from someone pushing it aside. The house was empty but you could see two figures in the backyard.
“…I can help you cut a deal with the DA.” Ray tried. “We can take him down, us and Y/N.”
Dex gripped his gun tightly, though he hadn’t lifted it yet. His entire body was tense, practically vibrating with the anticipation of what he would do next. There was still a heavy apathy from Dex but there was an undercut of hesitation. Ray was still his friend, and that meant something to him. Not enough to change his mind, but something. Something you might be able to use against him.
“No.. That’s not gonna happen, Ray.” Dex shook his head with a small scoff.
“Dex.” You said carefully, pushing your mask up and lifting your hands in surrender. You walked slowly, putting yourself between the two former friends. “Think about this.”
“Move.” He answered tightly.
“I can help you, if you let me… Don’t make me your enemy, please.”
You tried to emphasize that hesitation but he would shove it back down as soon as it came up.
“I feel more myself than I have in my whole life. Fisk gave me that.”
“This isn’t you talking. This?” You gestured slightly between the two of you. “This is Fisk. He’s gotten in your head, Dex, and he’s turned us against each other. Don’t let him win! ”
“You don’t know me!” He shouted and you instinctively woke your Bite. “See?” He chuckled humorously. “You don’t really trust me.”
“What happened to the man that helped save my life?” You pressed gently with a pleading expression, taking a tentative step forward as you lowered your hands. Your devices still glowed at your wrists and Dex’s grip on his gun shifted. “At the carousel, remember? You rode with me in the ambulance, stayed at the hospital until I woke up. Where’s he?”
“That wasn’t me. It was you. It was your games.” He spat and your brows dropped and your jaw clenched.
“She cared about you, Dex.” Ray said from your side with a hand on your shoulder. “We both did. The only person that changed that was you.”
“Let me help you.” You tried that soft spot again. “I can’t do anything for you after this. I won’t.”
“I don’t care.” He shook his head and you nodded slightly, slowly moving a hand to reach one of the weapons at your belt. “I don’t need your help.”
“As long as I’m alive, my family’s at risk.” Ray admitted, though there was no hesitation.
Sadness, definitely, but it wasn’t any sudden revelation. Instead, it was acceptance. Understanding.
“Ray?” You asked over your shoulder.
“It’ll be alright.”
“Let’s go, Ray.” Dex said, lifting his gun. You sidestepped to put yourself in front of Ray again as you drew your own weapon. “Move, Y/N.”
There was a slight plea in his expression, though his body language didn’t falter.
Something human was left in Dex, some tiny flicker of light. Something like that used to be enough for Matt to believe in, to give them a chance to change. Without him honoring his own prior morals, you realized that was part of why you didn’t give up on Dex.
Not the sex or the friendship. But the hope, hope that months of running around with the altar boy vigilante attached to your hip pinned to your own conscience. The ability to see something good in someone so far off their path. You never understood that ideology until recently but now… Now it felt like that was your own code.
But clearly, the flicker wasn’t enough. And you couldn’t work by someone else’s morality.
“Thought you were good enough to shoot around me.” You taunted as you lined up your own gun.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Dex.” Ray said and you felt that wave of acceptance again. “Whatever you need to do, you do it here.”
Ray had accepted his own death. And the only way you could stop it would be to kill Dex. You turned to face Ray, purposefully putting your body in front of his with the hopes that Dex wouldn’t shoot through.
“We can still get out of this.” You tried, feeling a deep regret settle in your stomach. “I can-“
“And do what, run? I can’t put my family through anything else, Y/N.”
“Ray, please. I can’t bring your family back to you if you’re in a body bag.”
“Hey.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “Just do this the right way, alright?”
“Seema wanted me to te-“
Before you could get the sentence out, the gun fired behind you. The bullet nicked your ear but hit its mark.
You backed away with unsteady legs while Ray fell to the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead. Your gun fell from your hands as you collapsed to your knees. Almost instantly your eyes watered as you stared at the now corpse of your friend. It was almost enough to make you scream as you sat beside the man that risked everything to stand up to Fisk, to stand up for what he believed in. To protect his family.
His family.
Your heart broke for Seema and Sami, and you thought about who would give them the news. The news that you had failed. You didn’t keep him safe.
“She loves you.” You said quietly as your entire body ran cold. “Seema wanted me to tell you she loves you.”
Your hand shook as you reached for your scar and pressed it, sliding along until you heard the dial tone.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“This is.. This is Exodus.” You spoke shakily with your accent, fighting to keep control as the tears fell down your cheeks. “I’m at.. Fisk had him killed. He’s- He’s dead. I need.. I need an ambulance or police or something. Just send someone!”
“Exodus? Okay um…” The line went quiet as the operator spoke to someone else on the side, probably asking advice with a vigilante on the line. “Where are you? Who’s dead?”
“Special-“ Your voice broke. “Special Agent Rahul Nadeem. He shot him in his own backyard.”
“Did you see who killed him?”
“No.. No, he was gone before I got here. I just heard the shot.”
“Okay. We have units en route. Can you stay with Mr.Nadeem until they arrive?”
“No, I- I have to go. They’ll arrest me. I- I have to- I have to go. I can’t be here when they arrive.”
“Wait.”
“He has a wife and a son. Just tell um, tell Detective Brett Mahoney to contact Nadeem’s legal team. Someone has to tell them.”
“Ma’am, please, just wait until-“
“I can’t… I can’t, I’m sorry.”
You ended the call and looked down at Ray.
“I’m sorry, Ray. I’m so sorry.”
You sat back for a moment to pull your knees to your chest. You wrapped your arms around them and rocked slightly as you let yourself cry. You tried to keep the noise down, but small wails left your throat. When you heard the sirens down the street, you had to pull yourself together and collect your gun. With one last look, you hopped the fence and made your way back to the apartment.
You tried to push the guilt away but it came back to gnaw at you. You should’ve just killed Dex. You shouldn’t have tried to reason with him. You should’ve taken him down when you got there. Why did you reveal yourself? Why didn’t you kill him? Why didn’t you do anything?
You had your own ways for a reason. Using Matt’s wouldn’t bring back the man you knew. And it wouldn’t save anyone.
Now Ray was dead and it was your fault.
All you could do was keep moving forward. But there was nothing more Y/N could do. The chance with the law and by the books was over. You wanted to stay on the path, to do things Foggy’s way - the right way - but you were at your wits end. Every time you tried to do things right, you lost. You wouldn’t lose again.
You wouldn’t dress yourself as Exodus to serve a villain. You wouldn’t dress as Exodus to serve the innocent. You would dress for revenge. You would dress to renew the sense of fear that your vigilante persona - just her name - used to invoke. To make Ben Poindexter pay for the lives he took. To make Wilson Fisk pay for the crimes he’d committed. And if they paid with their lives, so be it.
You wouldn’t be nice any longer. Both men had pushed you too far.
Killing people was easy. Making them suffer was an art, and you had spent years developing your craft. You would make them regret the moment you were made their enemy.
You ignored the phone calls from Foggy. His voicemails all said he needed to talk to you and he didn’t want to say it on a message, so you knew Brett told them what happened. Other numbers you didn’t recognize called but you ignored them too. Reporters, you figured.
On your way home, you were distracted by the distinct taste of fear. With a small noise of interest, you followed it. You weren’t necessarily shocked to see Matt was there at the source, but it was a surprise to see him with Felix Manning.
“Should’ve called.” You told him as you got to his side.
“Didn’t have time.” He shrugged with that smirk he always used to have back when you found him when you two didn’t know each other’s identities. When things were a lot simpler. “You hear what happened?“
“To Nadeem? How we fucked it up, again.”
“Yeah.” He answered in a whisper.
You nodded quietly and he frowned slightly. He reached for your arm but you crossed them over your chest and peered over the edge, looking at the knot that held Manning’s ankle. You gave the rope a small shake and the man screamed with a new wave of panic.
“What have you gotten so far?” You turned to Matt, though the mask did little to hide his expression. “Stop looking at me like that.”
He opened his mouth for a joke but you smacked his arm before he could get a word out. He laughed quietly and put his hands up in surrender.
“Fisk’s gathering a bunch of figureheads for a wedding.” Matt explained.
“Vanessa’s gonna marry him?” Your brows furrowed and Matt gave a nonchalant shrug. You leaned over the edge and yelled to Manning. “Do we get an invite?”
All he could do was scream.
“Sounds like a no.” Matt answered and you almost smiled, though Manning’s screams were rather distracting.
You groaned loudly before reaching forward. You made a small pulling motion and felt the fear draw out of him. The yellow smoke came to your hand and swirled up your arm and you felt the tingle down your spine as you absorbed it.
“I can give you something better.” Manning called from the end of the rope.
You hummed in interest and climbed to sit on the ledge, feet kicking idly as Matt sat beside you with his ankles crossed. If it hadn’t been for the man dangling just a few feet down, it would’ve been a nice moment together.
“We’re listening.” Matt said simply.
“I witnessed Ms. Marianna order the murder of Agent Nadeem. And Fisk ordered many!” He shouted and you felt a new wave of anger run down your spine. You ground your teeth and balled your hands into fists. Matt’s hand came up to your jaw and pressed gently on the joint to make you release the tension. You made a small noise and took his hand off your face, holding it between your own and dropping into your lap. “Agent Winn. Julie Barnes. I could testify!”
“Где был этот парень раньше?” You muttered and Matt nudged you with his shoulder. “Мог бы позволить ему умереть вместо Рэя.” (Where was this guy earlier? Could’ve let him die instead of Ray.)
“Будь милым.” Matt said with light amusement in his voice. He knew what happened to Ray upset you and he figured you would blame yourself. But at least your words were what he was used to. “Мы могли бы его использовать.” (Be nice. We could use him.)
“Hang on..” You realized and peered over the edge. “We know Winn and Nadeem. Did you say Julie Barnes?”
“Yes! Yes, he did!”
You let out a laugh in celebration and the sound seemed misplaced in the current situation. That was exactly what you had been waiting for. Confirmation. Confirmation of the one thing that could snap Dex, in every sense of the word. Confirmation that Julie Barnes, the woman that he had been obsessing over since before you met him, was dead and that Fisk was to blame.
“Help me get him up.” You told Matt quickly as you climbed back to the roof.
“Why?” Matt asked, though he followed suit.
“Ты хотел подтолкнуть Декса на грань? Вот как мы это делаем.” You answered quickly and he nodded quietly. (You wanted to push Dex to the brink? This is how we do it.)
You got Manning to tell you everything you needed to know about Julie. How she was killed. Where she was killed. Where her body currently was. Everything you needed to throw in Dex’s face and break whatever was left.
A day or two later, you were standing at a press conference at the bureau. It was an official statement regarding Ray and Agent Winn’s deaths. Hattley claimed Ray was mentally unstable, that Karen was a liar and the alleged 911 call from Exodus was fake. You almost laughed when Hattley had to redirect questions about Exodus finding the body, but she admitted it was an agent who killed him, under the guise of self-defense.
You tried to duck out of the office following the press conference but a hand wrapped around your arm tightly. You let out a small wince when you were yanked back before you were redirected and pushed towards one of the conference rooms. You were able to yank your arm free just outside the door, where you saw Seema sitting inside.
“What the hell is this?” You asked sharply as you spun on Dex. “You wanna rub salt in her wounds?”
“She came to us, said she wants to see Ray’s lawyers.” He explained simply.
“So what?”
“So call them.”
“Why? So you can put a bullet in them too?”
“If you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in you.”
“You should’ve done it last time. Too late now.”
“Really wanna do this here?” His brows raised. You glanced around, noting the mostly empty hall. The only other agents were ones you remembered seeing at that meeting. You were outnumbered and while you could likely handle the ordeal, a shoot out in the office wasn’t something you wanted to instigate with everything else you had going on. “You’re so paranoid, Y/N/N. I’ll call him myself. Not like anyone’s gonna hurt him.” Dex smirked and began to back away.
“Dex.” You called out and he paused, allowing you to move closer. “Are you happy now? Ray’s dead. Seema and Sami are alone. Fisk is getting married. Daredevil’s image is shot… Is that what you wanted?”
He chuckled weakly and nodded. “I thought all this empathy crap was done.”
You gave a weak shrug. It wasn’t even an attempt to change his mind. It was just you being an asshole. “One last shot, I guess… Maybe you were right after all. You don’t love me, not anymore at least. You’re incapable of loving anyone, of feeling anything.”
“Careful, Y/N. You’re getting predictable.” He tapped a finger under your chin and left.
You huffed a sigh and shot a quick text to Foggy, asking him to come to the bureau. You headed back to the main office and began busying yourself with some paperwork until your friend arrived.
A sharp whistle drew your attention and you looked up to see Dex waving you over. You got to his side as Foggy lifted his phone to take a picture, one you were just in time to smile for.
“Posted to my campaign webpage, and the tens of thousands of police officers that know that I’m here. With you. Helping.” Foggy said firmly and you tried to hide the proud smile.
“Relax, Mr. Nelson. You’re not in any danger.” Dex said lowly, a hand landing on your lower back that you almost jumped away from. “Agent Y/L/N even came to help put you at ease.”
You jammed an elbow into his ribs and he laughed slightly.
“Besides, you’ll be very useful when you’re the next district attorney.”
“Why am I here?” Foggy looked to you.
“Because you and Ray were friends.” Dex answered instead and you rolled your eyes.
“If you’re expecting him to answer questions, it’ll break privilege, even if the client’s dead.” You explained.
“I’m not asking him to.” It was Dex’s turn to roll his eyes. “Follow me.”
Dex led you and Foggy back to the room where you saw Seema waiting. You wanted to offer her a sincere apology, to comfort her and admit that it was your fault Ray was dead, but Hattley’s presence made you keep those thoughts to yourself.
“We’ll give you the room. Take all the time you need.” Hattley said after a brief exchange between Dex and Seema.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” You managed and she looked at you with slight tears in her eyes. “Ray was a good man.”
Dex’s hand fit tightly to your elbow and he dragged you away. You all left Foggy with Seema and stepped back into the hall.
“Suck it up.” Dex sneered.
“I’m only doing this because I have to.” Hattley snapped back before the two split ways. You let out a sigh and headed back to your desk.
You decided you were going to leave again at lunch, figuring your time at that job was limited anyway so why be a good agent anymore. You had just dropped into your chair, a small cloud of blue proofing out as you did, when Dex grabbed your arm and hauled you away again. You sucked in a breath between gritted teeth and you knew there’d be a bruise there by the end of the day. When you two got to a secluded area, he pushed you against the wall and put his call on speaker. He held a hand against your mouth and your brows furrowed, though you showed no other reaction. You decided against fighting back, knowing it would be more trouble than it was worth.
Plus, you were intrigued.
“I’ve got some free time now. Why don’t we meet up?” Dex said, keeping eye contact with you while pressing that forearm against your chest near your throat as a threat.
“I have a question.” Matt’s voice came from the other side and your eyes went a bit wider. Dex offered a slight smirk as he caught your expression. “Did you enjoy the feeling you got when you killed those birdies? Is that why you’re still killing?”
“Birdies?”
“The ones you killed with rocks. I bet it felt good at first, right?”
“Stop.” You tried, your voice muffled from behind Dex’s hand and he pushed your head to bang against the wall.
“Then it’s never the same after that.”
You put one hand on his chest and the other on his wrist and tried to push Dex off. He growled slightly and pressed harder, causing you to release a small noise when the pressure hit your chest and then a sharp sensation erupted from your still healing stab wound.
“Who was that?” Matt asked suddenly.
“Your little girlfriend.” Dex taunted and you struggled against him, but he leaned into you with more of his body weight. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? ‘Specially when she’s helpless.”
“What do you think Dr. Mercer would say if she could see you now?” Matt continued and you sighed. You wondered if he was purposefully not showing a reaction or if it just didn’t bother him.
You leaned back into the wall and Dex noticed your shift away from him. Dex’s eyes darted between yours but you knew yours were empty. There was no feeling behind your eyes when you looked at Dex, and he recognized that. He recognized that you no longer saw him the same.
Slowly he leaned away but held a finger to his lips to gesture for you to keep quiet. Maybe it actually hurt him for you to give up on him.
Good.
“Got a second?” He spoke finally. “I need a tissue for all the tears I’m crying over my shitty childhood.”
“Have you heard from your friend Julie lately?”
“Что ты делаешь?” You whispered as your brows furrowed, trying to figure out Matt’s plan. You two had talked about bringing it up to Dex together so you could guarantee neither of you were at risk. Why do it now? (What are you doing?)
“You wanna talk to Dr. Mercer, asshole? Keep talking. Or I could send your girlfriend instead.”
“What do you think she’d say if she knew about the innocent people you killed?” Matt continued. “I bet she’d be disappointed, Dex.”
“If she was still alive.” You mumbled.
Dex’s attention snapped to you and a hand was quick to come around your throat to force you back against the wall. The air left your lungs while his hand gripped you tighter and you cursed Matt for starting problems.
“If you hurt Julie-“ He threatened lowly and lifted so your feet could barely reach the ground.
“I never touched her.” You choked out. “She was innocent.”
“Did he?”
“Fisk had her killed. He knew what she meant to you so he killed her, gave himself a chance to replace her as your North Star.” You answered quickly.
He was quiet for a moment while he took in your expression. When he believed you weren’t lying, he eased off.
“When he realized he couldn’t kill me, he went after her… She was an easy mark. I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do.” You added while rubbing your tender throat and he gave a slow nod.
“Don’t tell me that’s sympathy in your voice, Ex.” Matt said.
“Shut up.” You snapped quickly.
“Don’t feel bad for a guy who’s tried to kill us both, multiple times.”
“Shut. Up. It’s not about him.”
“You should stick to beating on people in alleys, cause you’re not gonna get in my head.” Dex said tightly, though you could feel something underlying in his words. It almost felt like.. grief.
Maybe there was something more than a flicker left in Dex. But that wouldn’t change anything. It couldn’t.
“You don’t have to believe us.. Then again, you may wanna ask how I got Manning’s phone.”
“Don’t know, don’t care.” Dex answered sharply.
“Julie wouldn’t approve of your killing people, Dex.”
“Stop. Saying. Her name.” Dex practically growled. The familiar heart of his rage hit you. The soft spot he had for you may have faded away, but he’d always feel a certain way for Julie.
“You said you got some free time? You may wanna check out 16 Canal Place.”
“Why?”
The line cut out after that. Dex slowly turned to face you and your sidestepped carefully to ensure your back was no longer against the wall.
“What’s at Canal Place?” He asked tightly.
“Julie…” You answered quietly. Beneath the surface you were adding to the pressure of his anger, trying to break him. “I’m sorry, Dex. I know she was important to you.”
“What the hell is your deal?” He asked angrily and you took another step back. “What- What- What do you gain from all of this?”
“I had no part in this.” You countered firmly, forgetting about your game for a moment. “All of this-“ You gestured between you two. “-was done without me knowing.”
“Bullshit.” He scoffed.
“I wouldn’t taunt you with this. You know me better than that.”
“Do I?”
“Don’t believe me then.” You shrugged. “I don’t care anymore. I tried being nice, didn’t work. I tried being a bitch, kind of working. I tried empathy, didn’t work.” You pushed past him.
“Where are you going?” He called after you.
“Away from you.”
That night, you took a trip to Canal Place dressed in your latest, modified vigilante costume - compression shirt and vest. You still hadn’t patched your full suit and top. You arrived a few minutes ahead of Dex, but he wasn’t your point. You made your way to the roof and found Matt already there. You made sure to keep your distance, knowing you’d punch him in the teeth if you got too close.
“Wanna tell me what the hell that was on the phone?” You asked simply.
“I knew he wasn’t gonna hurt you.” Matt reasoned as he pulled the black mask off.
“That’s not the point. We were gonna do it together.”
“I needed to make sure.”
“Of what?”
“That you hadn’t gone soft.”
“So you play with my life?”
“C’mon, Y/N/N.” He scoffed. “He wasn’t gonna kill you.”
“The bruise around my neck says otherwise.” You countered angrily.
His body language shifted and you saw the flex of his hand. He ran a stressed hand over his mouth before he spoke again.
“You said it yourself. He loves you.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“That’s not what-“
“Well I was wrong.” You cut in quickly.
“You’re never wrong about this stuff.”
“You think that excuses any of that?” You laughed and moved closer. “You think that excuses you pushing him when I’m the one that would’ve had to deal with the fallout?”
“You could’ve protected yourself if he tried anything.”
“So that’s it? You put me in the line of fire and taunt the most unstable man I’ve ever met, just because you can? Just because I can fight back.”
“Were you honestly afraid?” He asked carefully, head cocking in interest.
You thought about the interaction and didn’t remember feeling afraid. In fact, you felt completely in control without touching your abilities in that regard.
“He felt something.” You said instead. “When you talked about Julie… Grief.”
“So what?”
“So that means there might still be something worth saving in him. That used to be what you stood for, Matt. That chance used to be enough.”
“Oh come on.” He scoffed. “What happened to the woman that was ready to kill him?”
“And what happened to the man that didn’t wanna kill anyone? What happened to the altar boy that believed everyone could change, that just a small piece of goodness was enough for another chance? Where’s the man from that rooftop with Frank, who had a gun to his head, but still insisted on preaching about giving people a chance to change?”
“What do you want me to do, huh?” He asked loudly. “You want me to- to take the guy to therapy? Hold his hand and promise it’ll be okay? The guy’s psycho! And he’s dangerous.”
Your remark was cut off by a loud scream. A sound of pure agony that you almost swore was accompanied by the sharp sound of a snap and a shaky wave of heat. It was an uneven, broken feeling that had bits of cold air weaved in between. It was as if the anger was cracking and the sadness was patching the gaps.
You turned to face Matt again but he was already holding a ringing phone in front of him. You took a few steps closer.
“When I find you…” Dex threatened lowly.
“Like we said, Fisk killed her and we all know it.” Matt countered smoothly.
“Think about it, Dex.” You added on. “Who got Julie the job in the hotel, right after the detail starts? Who started following you? It’s all been Fisk.”
“You let him turn you into a murderer!” Matt kept going. You knew you should stop him, that he was pushing too hard. You started to feel a bit of regret for what you had to do to Dex, but you also knew you needed him to turn against Fisk.
Besides, you didn’t owe him anything anymore.
“He wasn’t gonna let someone like Julie get in the way of that.” You offered, gentler than the venom Matt spoke with. 
“Why are you telling me this?” Dex asked lamely, as if everything he had - everything that mattered - was gone. And for him, maybe it was.
“Aw, Dex..” You said quietly, more to yourself than either of the boys. Matt scoffed lightly and stepped away, adding a comment about Fisk and the wedding before ending the call.
“You can’t tell me that you really care about him still.” Matt said angrily. “After everything he’s done to us.”
“I’m allowed to feel bad for ruining a man’s entire mental state just to take down a different man.” You answered sarcastically. “Regardless if I care about him or not.”
“You didn’t ruin that guy. There was hardly anything to ruin.”
“There used to be..”
“Who’s side are you on, Y/N? Because you can’t have everything.”
“No, but I can remember the guy he was before. Matt, he helped save my life, kept me from bleeding out on the way to the hospital.”
“That makes up for everything. Why didn’t you mention it sooner?” He offered sarcastically.
“Why are you so bitter?” You shouted. “You have everyone back and it’s still not enough.”
He simply shook his head.
“Why are you so hell bent on destroying him?”
“He killed Father Lantom!” Matt screamed, new anger rolling off him. “But that doesn’t matter, right? Because he lost someone too.”
“That’s not what I’m saying! I cared about Lantom, too.”
“Not like I did.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that, but-“
“But nothing. Just because you slept with him doesn’t make him worth anything.”
“Say that again.” You said lowly, your head tilting with a slight challenge. Your muscles tightened and your hands flexed as you crossed your arms to wake the devices around your wrists. “I dare you.”
He sighed heavily and lifted his hands in surrender.
“Y’know, you’re making it so hard to want to help you. And at this point, I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose or if you are just that pathetic now.”
“I’m pathetic… Okay.” He mumbled with a scoff before turning away from you.
“I may be a bitch and I may be a killer, but at least I don’t willingly treat people that love me like shit. At least I feel bad when I’ve hurt someone I used to care about… But I guess you just don’t care anymore, right? You left your conscience under Midland, right?”
“You know that’s not true.” He sighed, almost visibly deflating. “I’m doing this because I-“
“Don’t give me that shit.” You cut in firmly, taking quick strides to stand in front of him. “I’m so goddamn tired of that excuse from you, Matt.” Your finger jammed into his chest. “You’re not protecting anyone by being an asshole.. All you’re doing is becoming exactly what you want to protect this city from. You’re becoming what Exodus used to be. Now I look like the soft one. The weak one.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to! Jesus Christ, how many times do we have to have this same conversation before it gets through your head?” You tapped his temple quickly before pushing his head away.
“I understand that we’re different now. I never said we could go back to what we were. You’re the one who said you can’t have both.”
“I never said that.”
“In the van with Ray. You said that you had to give up certain people and you looked right at me.”
“For the love of..” You muttered before a disbelieving laugh. “I wasn’t saying that I wanted to give you up. I meant that you gave us up. You won’t let yourself have it both ways.”
“Right, because you’re not one to self-sabotage to try torture yourself? You- You don’t ruin anything good in your life to try and make up for all the bad shit you’ve done?”
You stood in silence for a moment, mouth opening to defend yourself but your voice keeping quiet. You wanted to talk back, to tell him that he was an idiot. You wanted to scold him for not truly understanding why you had done everything you had, why you had sabotaged so many relationships in the past. But that was what he wanted. He wanted to keep egging you on that way, maybe you’d be pissed off enough to be like the old you. The one who was so angry with the way the world was that you were going to kill anyone you thought would fix it. And as tempting as it was, as justified as you felt your anger would be, someone needed to keep a level head.
But also, it wasn’t for his sake. It was Ray’s voice lingering in the back of your mind, serving as the safety on your otherwise unrelenting trigger finger.
Just do this the right way, alright?
“Whatever. Think what you want about me.” You shrugged and your devices disarmed. He must’ve heard the current shut off because his brows raised with interest. “I’m gonna go patch my suit and head to the Presidential. If I see you, you better have your goddamn head on straight.”
“Держись подальше от меня сегодня вечером.” He said simply, causing a small scoff from your chest. (Stay out my way tonight.)
“Забавно. Я собирался сказать тебе то же самое.” (Funny. I was going to tell you the same thing.)
You headed home after that, ignoring whatever snarky comment he made when you turned your back. You got home quickly and pulled your suit from the closet. It was the first time you had seen it since the attack on the church. The blood was still soaked into the fabric, the gaping hole in the center. It brought you back to that night and the scar on your stomach burned.
You pushed through it and gave it a thorough wash before repairing the damage, not perfectly but enough to get through the night. You fit it in place and zipped the familiar top over it. As you were sliding your gloves on, you found the small insignias you had carved into the forearm plates. A small skull and two overlapping D’s.
Matt and Frank, Punisher and Daredevil. The two men that were able to sneak through your guards and understand who you were. The two men who knew what you stood for and stood beside you.
The two most important people left in your life.
You fit the rest of your equipment on; boots, Bites, belt, staff pack, and mask. You thought a lot on your way to the hotel. You thought about your relationships with Dex and Matt.
There was no way to repair the damage between you and Dex. You wouldn’t be friends or anything romantic when the night ended. The latter you could deal with, but losing the former was a bit of a bummer. Dex was damaged and your influence probably made it worse. You had a hand in breaking whatever structure and balance Dex had. You used him as a pawn in your game with Fisk and he was ultimately the one to suffer.
You and Matt had been back and forth since he came back. One night he’s begging you to stay and the next he tries to make you the bad guy for being human - for being exactly what he wanted you to be when you had first met. Despite that, despite his uncharacteristic bloodlust as of late, you couldn’t turn your back on him.
You still loved him, after all.
You moved through the parking garage with ease. You came across an abandoned SUV and when you went to check it, you instantly regretted it. In the passenger seat sat Julie’s frozen corpse.
“We really did it this time, didn’t we?” You mumbled to yourself before you heard the groans of the nearby agent on the ground. You moved to his side and grabbed his face to turn him towards you.
“Where’d he go?” You asked firmly, to which he continued his pained sounds. “Where is Poindexter?” You urged again.
He pointed weakly towards the door to the stairwell so you left him on the floor and began your climb. As you climbed, you called Matt.
But he didn’t answer.
You tapped your mask to track the microphone you had left him with and saw he was already a few levels ahead of you. You blew out a sigh and decided to call Foggy instead.
“Hey.” He said with a relieved sigh. “Please tell me-“
“He’s already here.. They both are.” You cut in as you leaned over the bar to angle a shot for your wire towards one of the higher railings. “I’m on my way to them.”
“You have to stop him, Ex.”
You smiled to yourself as your wire looped around the metal. You climbed over and began a quicker ascend.
“Well I’ve tried that, a lot, and it’s not working.” You said simply, mentally counting off floors as you passed. “We need to try something different.”
“Like what?”
“Like a bluff.”
“A bluff?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay… I’m not following.”
“Clearly.” You mumbled as you swung your feet over the final railing. “What I’m saying is what if I stay out of his way.”
“You wanna let him do it?”
“You really think he will?” You asked simply as you unwrapped and tucked away your wire.
“Right now, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“The guy we know is still in there.. I know it sounds crazy but it’ll work. He wouldn’t know whether I mean it or not. He can’t read me the way he reads everyone else. I don’t let him.”
He was quiet for a moment, likely getting Karen’s opinion.
“But what if it doesn’t work? What if.. we lose him forever?” 
“You gotta trust me.”
“I do but… Is it worth the risk of losing him?”
“I get it. But I don’t see any other option. He has to see for himself that he’s too good to do it.”
“If he can’t, are you going to?”
“Not unless I have to.”
“Will you stop him?”
“I don’t know.”
You ended the call, not allowing any other argument from Foggy. Instead, you pushed into the hall and practically sprinted to the ceremony. As you were coming up on the doors, your implant picked up on Ray’s voice. You didn’t know what it was, some sort of deathbed confession maybe, but it made your chest tight.
As you moved, you passed agent after agent on the ground. Labored breathing or groans of pain came from the bodies and you were moderately relieved that they weren’t dead. At least he had some restraint left, whichever one did all of it.
“I’d like to make a toast.” Dex said shakily from the stage as you entered the ballroom. “Julie and I wish you the absolute best.”
Dex pulled back to throw the microphone so you sprung into action. A serving tray came flying in front of Fisk and the microphone bounced off as you were passing by. Dex looked between you and who you assumed was Matt. You noticed his attention on something behind you and you turned just in time to see the agents lift their guns.
You dropped to the floor and ducked behind one of the tables. When the shots faltered you came out and hopped the table. With both hands on the surface, you kicked out and sent one agent falling into the one behind him. You took a disc from your belt and tossed it, highly charged bolts shooting out of the small device at the two agents. They fell with tight convulsions before Dex threw silverware that landed in their necks.
Matt took off and you were quick to follow him, leaving Dex and the remaining agents in the ballroom. The gunshots echoed throughout the halls as you ran and it sent a chill down your spine.
You noticed the annoyed shake of Matt’s head but you said nothing. You followed him up to the room that covered Fisk’s control center.
He burst in first with you close behind. He acted quickly and threw one of the men towards you. You reacted instantly and pulled a staff. You had to duck his flailing arms so you swung the weapon to knock his legs from under him. Once the agent fell to his back, you slammed the weapon against his temple. You flicked out the blade and moved at the agent Matt threw to the sofa.
Acting quickly, you slammed the blade through his shoulder and pin him to the furniture while you woke your Bites. Aiming one at the man beside you and one over Matt’s shoulder, you fired both and the men fell limp.
As Matt spoke to the woman, you recollected your weapon and placed it back in the pack.
“Подожди.” You called as Matt was headed to the stairs. (Wait.)
“Don’t try to stop me either, Ex.” He said tightly.
“Я не собирался.” You offered but he turned away from you. You groaned and moved forward, grabbing his arm to force him to stay put. “Я просто хотел сказать, что я с тобой... Что бы ты ни решил сделать.” (I wasn’t going to. I just wanted to say that I’m with you… Whatever you decide to do.)
“Правда?” He asked carefully, a hand handing on your arm and his fingers landing between the plates. “И если я действительно убью его?” (Really? And if I actually kill him?)
You gave a small smile as your other hand landed on his chest, right over his heart. You heard the door close as the woman ran off.
“Whatever you decide.” You said honestly.
He offered a small smirk before taking his hand off your arm and moving it to your neck. Before you could voice a question, his opposite hand slid the zipper down a few inches so the fingers on your neck could move under the collar of your suit.
“Tell me one more time.” He said lowly and for just a second, it was like old times. “Just to be sure.”
With a small smile, you let your meticulous control drop. For the first time in months, you were completely vulnerable. Every emotion, every physiological reaction, every tell you could possibly have, it was all on the table for Matt to read. And he knew it.
“I’m on your side, Matty. No matter what.” You said truthfully. And you knew the night would end in a way that favored you and your friends.
He gave a small smile and let out a sigh of relief. His hand went to the back of your neck and he pulled you closer. The other arm looped around your waist and your arms came loosely around him.
You fixed your mental guards and allowed a moment to survey what Matt was feeling. There was tension in his muscles, likely anticipatory for what was to come once you entered that suite. He was determined but also worried. There was an underlying excitement, the subtle type he always seemed to get before a fight. There was also a hint of confusion.
That was what you were looking for. Something to pull to the surface that could interfere with his initial plans.
Slipping a mental hook into that feeling, you pulled away and tapped his arm to follow you. You moved up the stairs and zipped your shirt the rest of the way up. When you hit the door to the suite, you woke your Bites and gripped one of your blades tightly. Matt’s hand landed on your lower back and when you turned to him, he gave you a quick nod.
You took a steadying breath before opening the door and walking in, ensuring your head was high as Matt followed behind you. As you entered the hall, Fisk and Vanessa came from the other end.
The tension in the air grew thicker with every breath. Fisk’s eyes went wide for a minute, flicking to the gleaming blade in your hand and the ominous red glow of your favored devices. Vanessa swallowed hard and took a fearful step back to try and hide behind her new husband.
“It’s over.” Matt said lowly, the familiar gravelly voice of the Devil coming through.
“Run.” Fisk said to Vanessa, pushing her back the way they came.
“This ends.” You warned with words tinted in your accent.
Fisk snarled slightly before bracing himself. Matt shifted beside you and your stance widened while you shifted your weight to your toes. They screamed at each other before they charged, Matt slamming into Fisk with enough force for them both to crash into something in the bedroom. You hurried in the same direction and caught Vanessa trying to race down the stairs.
You wouldn’t kill her, only sparing her life to fulfill your promise to Ray, but you’d have some fun in the meantime.
You flung your knife and watched the tip bury itself in her dress and pin it to the floor. As you were coming around the ledge, Matt and Fisk crashed through the wall. You were going to intervene but Matt fought back so you turned back to Vanessa.
You gripped the railings on either side and kicked both feet into her side. The sharp rip of fabric sounded as she tumbled down the stairs with loud exclamations. You recollected your blade and hopped the railing to follow her just as Matt sent Fisk tumbling the same way.
You landed in time to see Vanessa backing away from the door, a familiar bitter taste settling in your tongue. You spit on the floor in an effort to clear it but it lingered as you saw Dex enter the room.
You groaned inwardly as your small crowd seemed to freeze at his appearance. When it seemed no one else would move, you did. You moved around the table to put yourself in front of the bride.
As you rounded the table, you placed a hand on the ledge to allow you room to spin your legs and connect both feet with Dex’s jaw. He reached angrily for you but you threw yourself backwards. From the far end of the table, you saw Matt land from the upper level and move in against Dex.
You slid off the table and dropped to a low crouch. You snuck beside Vanessa and kicked her legs from underneath her. You pinned a knee against her chest and aimed one of your devices. You angled for a well-placed shot that would hurt but not kill her, only to be thrown off by Matt’s off balance body.
You groaned in annoyance and shoved your partner off you. In your own lull of action, you heard Fisk and Dex going at it from the other end of the room. You paused for a second to watch, only to realize that your former partner had little to no defense against Fisk. The best he could do was evade and try to put distance and gain an advantage.
He was sloppy, uncaring even. He wasn’t just broken. He has completely fallen apart.
You looked between a still fallen Vanessa and the quick paced fight ahead and decided on something more exciting. When Fisk threw Dex against the stairs, you inserted yourself.
You grabbed both staffs before getting to the side of Fisk. You stepped up the railing and reached around his neck to cross both sticks. You quickly moved your feet to be on the back end of the plexiglass and extended the limbs, holding tight with your staffs to pull the man off Dex. His ragged coughs drew an old, sadistic smile from you and the manic daze you knew all too well began to cloud your mind.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Dex stand and attempt to charge at you and Fisk. With a quick move, you jumped the railing and dug an elbow into Fisk’s spine for stability. When Dex was close enough, you slammed both feet into his chest. The impact sent him stumbling through the glass behind him and you were pushed the other direction.
When you hit the ground, you released the cross of your staffs and snuck between Fisk’s legs. You hooked a stick around either ankle and pulled forward as you slid your other leg through so you would spin to face him as he fell to his back. One staff was returned to the pack as you flicked out the long blade of the other.
“Ты больше никому не обидишь” You said simply and you placed a foot on his stomach. (You’ll never hurt anyone else again.)
You gripped your weapon with both hands and lifted it high above your head, the tip of the blade on a direct path to his chest. You let out a loud scream, one born out of pent up rage and pain that seemed to add heat to the blade in your hand, while you began to drive the knife down.
As your blade was mere inches from penetrating, you were slammed into from your side. The collision sent you rolling and your staff clattered from your hands. You heard the commotion continue and you pushed yourself to your elbows to see Fisk and Matt back in a fight, Matt getting body slammed through the table.
For a second, you hoped it would knock some sense into him. But that thought was shortly entertained because you were yanked to your feet by your hair.
You were spun roughly and a hand fit your throat, backing you up until you hit the wall. You let out a manic laugh when you saw it was Dex.
“Was it worth it?” You sneered. “Killing Julie.”
“I didn’t kill her.” He nearly screamed in your face before slamming you back again.
“But you did.” You nodded fervently. “If you didn’t try to make her love you-“
His free hand collided with the brick near your head and you acted quickly.
You grabbed the wrist around your throat and braced a foot at the bend of his hip. Your thumb dug into the space between bones at his wrist and he winced as his grip faltered. You stepped up using his own leg as leverage and hooked the other leg around his shoulder. You balled one fist in the suit material of the base of his neck and pulled to reveal enough skin that you could wedge you let Bite against. You fired the device and he yelled loudly while his hands gripped the back of your knees.
He slammed your body into the hard brick wall and you coughed roughly as the impact sent a jolt through the old fracture in your ribs. He pulled back to slam you again but you pulled the foot you had against his leg to flatten against the wall and change the angle of your body.
You slid your hands to grip the suit before kicking off and throwing yourself to the floor while Dex landed beside you. You quickly knelt on top of Dex and landed heavy hits to his face, forcing head to bounce off the ground. One of his hands were flailing to find something to use as a weapon and before you could block, he found your other staff and swung it at your jaw. You fell off and got to your hands and knees before he threw your staff at the glass chandelier above where Matt and Fisk were fighting.
Matt was quick to get out of the way, which left Fisk vulnerable to Dex’s barrage of attacks. You hurried over to the wreckage and recollected your staff before you decided what to do next. Dex’s focus shifted to Matt, which allowed you to go after Fisk. You turned to find him and saw him give Vanessa his jacket, a product of Melvin’s handiwork you assumed.
She met your eyes in a panic as you jumped the couch and began your assault. You alternated your hits, switching hands and angles. You mixed in body shots and elbows and knees. Vanessa’s hand landed on your shoulder and you reacted almost instantly.
You grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm outwards. You hooked a foot behind her ankle and slammed your other arm against her chest to knock her to the floor. She coughed heavily from the impact and you reached down for your knife. You smiled as you pressed the tip against the underside of her chin.
“You had Ray killed.” You spoke lowly, a heavy venom dripping from your accented words. “I should kill you for it.”
“But you won’t?” She managed, jerking under your weight in a desperate attempt to get you off of her.
“I do enjoy revenge.” Your head tilted as you pierced the skin slightly and you watched the steady stream of blood across her skin. “But using you to torture him is much more fun.”
You heard Fisk’s heavy footsteps behind you so you moved quickly. You quickly jumped to your feet and dragged Vanessa up with you, locking an arm around her throat while other held the tip of the knife against her sternum,
“Let her go, Y/N.” Fisk said carefully, hands out in front as if to soothe a wild animal. “She’s done nothing.”
“You consider Rahul Nadeem nothing?” You spoke sharply, pressing the knife a bit harder to hear a sharp gasp from Vanessa. “What do you say, hmm? A life for a life.”
“You don’t trade lives!”
“Исход делает.” You shrugged. (Exodus does.)
The loud shatter of glass beside you stole your attention for a second, but it was all Fisk needed. He yanked your hand away from his wife’s chest and pushed her away. With a tight grip on your wrist, he bent it back to point your own knife back at you. He backed you against the wall and you had to use your other hand to keep your own weapon away. His fingers locked around your own, not allowing you to drop your blade.
With a sly smile, you allowed your powers to reach out to the boys that came crashing through the window moments ago. You found that soft spot they both had for you, one was much easier to find than the other, and you yanked it to the surface. You projected a fear, a helplessness, while refusing to break eye contact with Fisk,
“You have no power here.” You said quietly as you heard the glass shifting. “You’ll lose.”
“Not until I’ve buried you.” He spoke roughly, pushing the knife again and you felt the tip poking through your suit and into your shoulder.
“I’m not afraid to die.”
You let your other hand drop and the knife pierced your shoulder completely with a sharp cry of pain. At the same time, two glass shards came flying in and punctured his abdomen. You offered a salute to Dex as a way of thanking him before Matt began an offense against him again. You turned back to Fisk as he pulled the bloody glass out.
You made a small noise of interest as you moved in, momentarily forgetting about the knife in you. You threw a sharp kick at the open wound and he cried out. You laughed slightly and kicked again. And again.
You reached forward and pressed your knuckles against the wound and watched the blood spurt across your hand. You pulled back and grabbed the man by his face, the other grabbing his shirtfront, and slammed him to the ground.
“You’re pathetic.” You sneered. “You’re nothing without your toys.”
You saw Dex fall from the corner of your eye and when you glanced, you saw him already locked in on Vanessa. You groaned to yourself and pushed off Fisk, hurrying up the stairs to yank Vanessa out of the way. The ceramic ashtray flew by your heads and shattered against the wall. You gripped Vanessa by her throat and threw her back against the plexiglass, leaning a knee into her chest to pin her down.
You turned back to the fight in time to see Fisk slam Dex into the corner of the brick. Your pressure on Vanessa eased slightly as something dropped heavy into the pit of your stomach. You shifted the glow to your Bites to blue and slid your knee over to allow a clearer shot to her chest.
Once Matt and Fisk found each other again, you hopped down the stairs and knelt on Dex’s chest. Your other foot pressed on his shoulder as you drew your gun. You pressed the barrel under his chin and he gasped for air beneath you.
Something was wrong. You knew it immediately, before you even got close to Dex. As your weight was bearing down on him, you were tense as you waited for a response. You waited for him to try and throw you off, to pull a knife or a gun of his own. You expected him to toss you around like a rag doll, only for you to come back at him relentlessly. But he did nothing…
“Fight back.” You demanded softly, your voice seemingly gone.
“Y/- Y/N.” He choked out.
The cold seemed to radiate from his chest and stick to the fabric pressed against him. There was regret, likely stemming from whatever injury the impact caused, and sadness. He truly had nothing and he finally understood that, laying on the ground with his former partner pressing a gun to his head.
“Dammit, Poindexter. Fight. Back”. You pressed the gun harder.
“Can’t.” He managed weakly.
You stood slowly, keeping a foot on his wrist and your gun aimed while the other hand hit your mask’s side button. You glanced over his body and saw the complete shatter of his vertebrae.
“You owe whatever pathetic life you have left to Ray… I won't offer this mercy again.” You said simply.
“Stop it, please!” Vanessa shouted desperately.
You turned quickly and saw Matt had Fisk on his knees and was pounding on him. You turned the aim of your gun on Vanessa and moved to stand beside Matt. Despite looking away from the woman, your gun stayed up as you faced Matt and yanked your blade from your shoulder.
His hands were positioned to finish it, to snap Fisk’s neck. You found yourself frozen in place as you waited for what he would do next. Part of you, the part manufactured from the Red Room, wanted to see him do it. You wanted to corrupt the Devil, to bloody his hands in a way he’d never clear.
But the more important part, the part you thought you had lost a long time ago, knew you didn’t want to see him do it. Seeing him do it would make it too real and it would change the way he saw himself and the way you would see him. The things that made him Matt Murdock would break if he did it.
Yet you did nothing. Not until he screamed. A sound of pure rage and agony that was paired with a blast of searing heat. Matt fell to his knees at your feet, reaching for your hand. But before he could take it, Fisk’s words drew your action.
“I will never stop hunting Karen Page or Foggy Nelson.” He warned, though there was defeat in his words.
You moved to stand in front of him and placed the gun against his forehead. He simply glared up at you, covered in his own blood. “I will tell the world who both of you really are.”
“I don’t care about the world.” You spat back, pressing your knee against his chest to knock him into the wall. You leaned your weight down and he coughed as the bony part of your leg dug into his sternum. “It has taken enough from me… You don’t get to do that anymore.”
“Wilson.” Vanessa tried from the other end of the room.
“Vanessa, please go. Please!” He shouted around you.
You turned quickly and fired a shot at Vanessa’s feet, to which she jumped back and screamed. You pressed the now hot barrel back to its prior position as Matt got to his feet.
“You.. You want us to kill you.” Matt realized through heavy breaths. 
“No prison can keep me.” Fisk taunted and you had to grind your teeth. “You know that… Come on, kill me! Isn’t that what you always wanted, Exodus?”
Your trigger finger itched but Matt spoke before you could act.
“No!” Matt yelled in response. You made a face to yourself and knew you should pull the gun back you didn’t, not even when Matt came to your side to yell at Fisk. “God knows I want to, but you don’t get to destroy who I am.”
You almost smiled in relief, but the thump of worry lived in the back of your mind. You could feel Vanessa’s concern for Fisk, her worry that he would die in front of her. Her helplessness plagued you like a magnet to metal and for a moment, you remembered when you felt the same way.
When Luke dragged you to the elevator without Matt. When Fisk said Matt’s name in front of other agents.
“You will go back to prison and you will live the rest of your miserable life in a cage, knowing you’ll never have Vanessa. That this city rejected you, it beat you. We beat you!” Matt demanded and you were proud he found a way back to himself.
“You will keep our secrets.” You spoke simply, putting your gun away to yank the man to the ground. You flicked one of your shock discs at him and pressed a foot against his broad chest. You leaned into your foot and twisted to ensure the small circle engaged and he groaned loudly as you heard the electricity crackle while you leaned the entirety of your weight against him. Matt knelt beside you and lifted his mask before he spoke.
“And you won’t harm Karen Page or Foggy Nelson or anyone else.”
“If you try it, I will go after your wife. And I will prove that she ordered the murder of Agent Rahul Nadeem. And if she’s lucky, she’ll spend the rest of her life in a cell, same as her miserable excuse of a husband.”
You stepped off his chest and tapped Matt’s arm before taking a few steps away. Matt replaced his mask and came to your side as Vanessa inched closer, her uncertainty coming off in shaky waves.
“Thank you.” She said shakily, reaching for your hand.
“I didn’t do it for either of you.” You said sharply. “And I will not extend this mercy again, to any of you.”
She nodded quietly before moving away, leaving you to stand beside an unsteady Matt. His hands were on his head and he was radiating anger. He was mad at himself for not being able to go through with it, but he was also glad that he didn’t. He understood what the consequences would’ve been and he knew that keeping that part of himself was more important than revenge.
“You’re okay.” You said gently to your partner, a hand landing on his shoulder. “I knew you’d do the right thing.”
“What if I didn’t?” He said weakly.
“We’re still in it together, Devil.” You shrugged. “Anyone comes after you, they come after me.”
“If I agree to your demands, you leave my wife alone.” Fisk countered, now kneeling beside Vanessa.
“You misunderstood me.” You warned. “There is no agreement. You have no leverage.”
“You leave Vanessa free!”
“You didn’t care about taking a father from a ten year old boy!” You shouted angrily, the sound of the bullet firing on Ray replaying in your head. Your anger burned down your spine and across your skin until it swelled in your palms, searing through the wound on your shoulder. “You took a husband away from his wife! Why should yours be free?”
“I was protecting the man I love.” Vanessa countered with false confidence, despite the darting eyes and trembling hands. “Could you tell me you don’t do the same?” She nodded to Matt though her eyes remained on you.
“I owe you people nothing. If it were up to me, you’d both be a puddle of your own blood right now.” You spat. “But I promised Ray I would do this the right way, and I promised the Devil I’d let him decide.”
Matt stepped forward and held a hand out to Fisk.
“If you keep your word.” He said simply.
Reluctantly, Fisk shook Matt’s hand. 
“Then it’s a deal.” He spoke bitterly, moments before the heavy banging came from the door.
“We should go.” You grabbed Matt’s arm lightly.
He nodded quietly before taking your hand. You two hurried up the stairs to the upper level and paused to see Brett enter with his team. You watched as they unmasked Dex and you weren’t fully listening to the words they were saying. You were distracted by the pained look on Dex’s face, what looked like tears in his eyes.
“Я оплакываю своего друга, который умер, когда ты надел этот костюм…” You said quietly, more to yourself than anything but you knew Matt heard. “Человек, которого я вижу сейчас, ничто.” (I mourn my friend, who died when you put on that suit… The man I see now is nothing.)
Matt grabbed your hand without a word and led you out the same way you two came in, avoiding cops until you made it to the rooftop. Through your lenses, you saw Fisk being shoved into the car and Foggy and Karen out in the courtyard.
You let out a small chuckle of relief when you could finally accept that you had won.
You, with Matt and Ray’s help, beat Wilson Fisk.
Again.
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bullseyelover · 3 months
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there are a couple parallels already from dex in daredevil season three to what we’ve seen from the set of daredevil born again
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in daredevil season three episode two dex is introduced at the end of the episode emerging from the smokey shadows with a gun as special agent benjamin “dex” poindexter, ready to kill the people who are in his way of doing his job and effortlessly dispatches of them displaying the level of his skill. this sets the stage for dex as a character, and while we saw him in a prior scene, this scene is the first impression dex gives to both the audience and wilson fisk, which later makes fisk want to have him on his side because of the brutal talent he just witnessed.
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in from what we’ve seen in born again, dex emerges from the smokey shadows with his gun as bullseye, ready to kill the people who have, in his eyes, wronged him and anyone who is in his way. he once again easily kills them, and is only stopped from completing his one man mission because of daredevil’s intervention and karen page’s own level of resilience.
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he is also wearing the same style of pants he wore in daredevil 3x02 in this scene of born again, but just in black! this is something i really like, as it makes dex feel like the same character just in a different time of his life. he knows what he likes, so when he was first starting off as bullseye, he used the same pants he knows are good. it’s also a great parallel as he was wearing the same style in his introduction as dex and he’s once again wearing them in his introduction as bullseye. this seems to be dex just starting off as bullseye, like how matt wore the black suit in season one, this is dex’s prototype bullseye suit. he used materials he knows are reliable to quickly build himself an efficient suit. he could’ve just stolen back the daredevil suit he used in season three but it was canonically damaged so it probably wouldn’t be as protective so i get it. we don’t know much about this scene but from what we have seen we can start to put the puzzle pieces together.
potential spoilers now (if i am right)
this scene seems to be a flashback to foggy nelson’s death at bullseye’s hands, and shows the reason to why karen page left new york and won’t be in the series regularly. nelson, murdock, and page seem to have started up their own office location and are no longer working out of nelson’s meats, so they would have been working together as a firm for probably a year or two. i do not think they could have set up this office location before the blip happened (which happened in may 2018, season three ended in early november 2017) as we know they all were struggling money wise in the last season and they all look to have drastically different looks in born again so they would’ve needed time to build a lawfirm and get money to do that. so this scene would take place in the year 2020(ish), which seemingly confirms that matt murdock, karen page, foggy nelson, wilson fisk, and benjamin poindexter were not blipped from thanos’ snap.
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dex would’ve needed a year or two as well to fully heal physically from the damage fisk did to his spine and the surgery at the end of season three. but the mental damage has not healed, if anything his mental health is most definitely in the worst place it has been in his whole life and will just continue to get worse as he continues his decent into becoming bullseye. so he’s not fully bullseye in this scene yet, he clearly has aspects of the bullseye costume in this prototype suit but this is just dex trying to cause chaos and get revenge on the people he can since fisk is most likely still in prison.
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matt defeats dex, i hope dex doesn’t get arrested again and just scurries away with a stronger hatred for matt and karen and hides away until he returns in later episodes. don’t know what they’ll do if foggy does die and karen leaves, because in all seriousness matt would probably just end himself LMAO. so however they approach this it’ll have to be done very well. anyway. i assume in the two last episodes of born again that both karen and dex will return in that dex will have a more orginal comic accurate bullseye costume, since born again takes place in 2026 after the events of echo he would’ve had time to become bullseye and get a better suit with the bullseye symbol commissioned.
anyway don’t know what this is just wanted to point out the parallel’s between dex’s first appearance and the set media we’ve seen from born again. and also theorize to what will happen in born again, i’d love to hear what anyone else thinks will happen as long as it is respectful.
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1rsoldiersince2012 · 5 months
Text
Bound by Law(Matt Murdock x Reader)
Words: 4263 (chapter 44)
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44. The ones we left behind
"Y/n! I came here as fast as I could." Foggy runs up to you, clearly out of breath, and from the first glance, you could say that out of bed too.
You lift your eyes from your briefcase that you've been holding in your arms ever since the agents gave it back to you. Dex's hand gently squeezes your shoulder, before he stands up, greeting Foggy. "Agent Poindexter. Are you a family member?"
"No, I'm her friend. Coworker. Why are you still holding her here? How are you?" Foggy asks, concern written all over his face.
You pull Dex's FBI windbreaker tighter, feeling the cold seeping into your bones. "I'm alright, Foggy."
"No, you're not." Foggy quickly sits beside you on the small bench, where Dex has been keeping you company for the past couple of hours, and takes your right hand into his. "What happened? Who hurt you?"
Dex eyes Foggy for a minute, before his glance falls on your arm wrapped with medical gauze. "I said I'm alright. Just hurt my arm a bit, nothing serious... Nurse said to keep it like that for a couple of days." Your stare is blank. You avoid Foggy's eyes. Dex excuses himself and leaves you two alone.
"Was it the Russians? Everyone's saying that it was the Russians." You pull your hand away from Foggy and touch the ring on your middle finger, slowly rolling it.
"Well, it looks like you already know everything."
"I want to hear it from you, y/n."
"Yes, okay?" You raise your voice a tiny bit, but in the empty corridor it sounds as if you were shouting. "They killed Michael, they kidnapped me and then this freak, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, saved me. You're happy?"
Foggy blinks more than necessary, carefully choosing his next words. "No, of course I'm not happy. Why would I be happy when my friend got hurt? The only one I can trust now..."
You furrow your eyebrows. "You need better friends then. I'm..." You blink your new tears away. You've cried enough in front of the others today. "I'm a mess, okay? They're going to question me tomorrow, and I have to relive it all again, and I just don't want to say something that might hurt you... Only because I'm hurt."
"Y/n, I understand..."
"You better go home, Foggy, I have nothing to say you would want to hear." You look away, not trying to hurt Foggy, but hoping to protect him from your anger.
"Let me get you a taxi, at least." He stands up, looking down at your lowered head.
"Dex will take me home. He's bound to do so after the brief inquiry." You squeeze out a small, but fake smile, "I'm okay, really."
"You're either a very good liar or very good at convincing." Foggy smiles and spins on his heel to leave, but then turns around, "call me tomorrow, okay?"
You nod and watch him hurry out of the building into the pitch black night. "You're ready to go?" Dex emerges from the nearby room, having been listening to you and Foggy's conversation.
"Yes. I am."
***
The silent drive finally ends, and you're back home, standing under the hot water stream in your shower, hoping that it can peel off your skin and make you feel less dirty and miserable as you felt now.
Your tears have mixed with water running down your face until there was no difference between them. You tried to keep your right hand out of the water, but it was pointless as it soon got wet.
You hear a loud banging on the doors as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a bathrobe, water dripping from your soaking wet hair on the floor as you reluctantly make way towards the door. "Y/n, please, open up." Matt rests his head on the doors, still knocking, but moves aside when hears the lock clicking.
"Foggy told you?" You step back to let him in and lock the doors again.
No. "Yeah." He sighs, moving his hands in the air before he finally manages to get a hold of your shoulder. "How are you?"
"Spectacular." You huff sarcastically, making your way back to the living room before Matt gently catches your wrist. Something familiar crosses your mind but before you can think of it, your face is pressed into his chest, and he's holding you tightly against him.
"I'm so sorry." Matt whispers in your ear, his cashmere sweater muffling your words, words that he already has heard tonight. "Are you hurt?"
"No." You lie, pulling apart from Matt, this time he releases you, following you into the living room.
"I know that it's not the best time" Matt begins, holding his interlocked fingers behind his back, "but I thought you should know..."
You turn around to face him, "know what?"
He shouldn't say anything now, he should just let you be in your own bubble and grieve Teneke, at least tonight. He shouldn't have come here at all, not after what he did just hours ago...in the mask. Karen told him, and he said he'll keep it a secret, for a little while at least. But he couldn't lie to you, at least not about this.
"Know what, Matt?" You ask again, getting impatient with his lack of response.
"Wesley's dead." Matt finally says, holding his breath for your reaction.
You feel blood leaving your face and your legs turn to jelly, and involuntary, you plop on the sofa. "How?"
"Someone shot him. Many times. Maybe to send a message to Fisk-"
"When?" Your voice slightly trembles, and you're already up, going into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of brandy, getting another glass for Matt.
"I don't know exactly when, but there were talks about the sabotage during Fisk's gala." He follows you into the kitchen, listening to your loud exhalation when the alcohol burns your throat.
"Who told you that?" You look at Matt as if your eyes could burn holes in his head.
Karen. "Somebody you don't like." Matt says instead.
"If you're going to keep talking in riddles, then leave." You cross your arms.
"The Devil."
"The Devil? Well, he's lying, then."
"He said that it's true. But it's up to you to...believe it or not." Matt feels you push the brandy glass into his hand and takes it. Like a gust of wind, you leave the kitchen and stand next to the window, watching the streetlamps illuminate the city. You're silent, and this silence is killing him.
"You know, we worked so hard to get him out of jail, and then the Russians just killed him." You finally say, turning to look at Matt. "I thought I was going to die tonight. And there was only one thought in my mind the whole time I was at their mercy."
"What was it?" Matt puts the half full glass on the counter, holding his breath.
"You." The corners of your lips turn upwards slightly, "I wasn't really scared about dying, maybe I just was in a lot of shock... But I was thinking to myself, hoping that you're okay, and you won't play a hero and try to avenge me or something. I thought, 'if he doesn't make amends with Foggy, then he's an idiot'." You chuckle, watching Matt's eyebrows twitch.
"I..."
"But then this," you wave your arms in the air, "devil came, and he claims to not work for Fisk, but I just feel it in my bones that he's hiding something important."
"I think you shouldn't let your feelings get the best of you, especially not now." Matt tries, but then understands just how ridiculous that sounds now, so instead, he sits on your sofa and takes off his glasses. "You know, my dad died when I was nine. He was killed. I heard the shot, just outside our apartment and... ran out, my blood turned cold in my veins, and when I finally found him, in an alley, he was already dead. I held his body in my arms, prayed to God to send him back to me." Matt rubs his eyes, "then cursed Him when my dad didn't wake up. His body was still warm, he was still bleeding out in my arms... But no one could help him. Not even God."
You slowly walk towards him, and sit close, taking his left hand and interlocking your fingers with Matt's. "I'm sorry." You whisper, watching a single tear roll down his cheek.
"I wish there was someone who could've saved him. I could've saved him."
"Matt, you were still a child, there was nothing you could do."
Matt turns to face you, his nose just inches away from yours, "there was no saving for Teneke either."
"I know." You whisper, "but all this unknown... It scares me."
"The Russians will pay for this."
"Dex said the FBI got them all. They're facing charges for murder, kidnapping and money laundering. But Fisk isn't involved in any of this. I already looked at the documents." You sigh, resting your head against Matt's shoulder.
"Dex? He's that Agent?" Matt's hands take your legs and put them on his, allowing him to sit closer to you.
"Yeah." You give no more details and just breathe in Matt, his cologne, his shower gel and the smell of his new sweater which feels so soft against your face.
"You should go to bed." Matt says, not making a move to let go of you, with the way you were pushing yourself against him.
"I don't think I'll sleep tonight." You close your eyes, enjoying the warmth from Matt's body.
He chuckles slightly. "You really thought that I won't get revenge for you?"
"I'm always hoping that you're not as stupid as you might be." You push your face into his neck, breathing hot air on Matt's skin.
"I might surprise you."
"Don't do it now. Just close your eyes."
Matt smiles sadly. The guilt was eating him from the inside, and he felt the devil on his shoulder getting bigger and bigger with each passing minute. But he obliged, for now, and closed his eyes.
*** 
Is she someone special to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or just likes to get into deadly accidents? 
This isn't the first time that Hell's Kitchen's well-known lawyer y/n y/l/n finds herself struggling to find an outcome of rather dangerous accidents that she creates with her cases and perhaps not the last time that the city's masked vigilante is coming to her aid. What bounds Hell's Kitchen's most hated man with the respected lawyer? Is it money or desire to remain famous when her former company, Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz dropped her after the accident involving the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, and now that she's trying to keep her status above the 'bare minimum' bar, is she using the vigilante as her guarantee of fame to revive the small office of Nelson and Murdock? What's in it for the vigilante, money or the attention and trust of the city after being accused of causing the explosions in Hell's Kitchen merely a couple of weeks ago? 
You drop the newspaper on the table after reading the first paragraph of the first page. "Fame? Money? Is..." you look at the end of the article to see the author, "this Nancy Lockwood for real?"
"It's just a newspaper, y/n." Matt tries to argue, swallowing a piece of his french toast.
"Didn't take it for a cheap gossip journal, because what is this, are they seriously suggesting that me and that guy are 'something special'? Fuck." You sit down in front of Matt, watching him take a sip of his hot coffee. 
"Did they mention Teneke? Or the Russians?" 
"Not a single word. If Fisk is paying them, he's paying them good because he's got me in the mud with the devil." You scoff.
"They're going to forget this quickly, soon, the FBI trial will be more important than your business." Matt cuts the last slice of the toast into two pieces, feeling your anger fill the living room of your apartment. "You should eat before leaving."
"The news didn't exactly increase my appetite." You sigh, looking out the window. "Will you return to the office today? Foggy texted me that extra hands would be welcomed."
"Don't think he had me in mind." He shrugs, pulling one of your blankets on his shoulders. 
"Just... Go, please. I'm not asking you to talk to each other, just be there, in case we get new clients... I'm not sure I'm a very welcomed sight for them after this Nancy earned her montly pay." You finish your coffee and leave Matt alone to make his decision. 
*** 
"I hope I didn't disturb you, Father." You cross the threshold of the church and take a breath of the dull air. 
"No, child, all are welcome in the house of God." Father Lantom smiles and leads the way to his small office, walking quickly through the longs rows of pews. "I have to admit, though, I didn't expect to see you here again."
"Neither have I, Father. But life is a funny thing. Or as you might say, 'God has a plan for everyone'." You sit in front of Lantom at the small table and take quick look around, but then notice today's newspaper lying. Your expression turns sour.
"Yes, that's the truth, there is a plan for everyone." Lantom follows your eyes and sighs.
"Mine isn't going well so far. As you already know, I suppose." You roll your eyes and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 
"Before we go into further discussion, would you like a cup of a latte?"
"Uh, no, thank you."
"Business only then." He tries to joke but then gets serious. "Not a particularly nice front page. Even for Bulletin that's a new low."
"Well, the guy got his front page. It seems that it's the only thing that matters to him."
"I know that the two of you crossed your paths before... Do you believe in his doing?" Father crosses his arms and watches your eyes wander to the small window on your left. 
"He's playing God, thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's wearing a mask. And it just seems that he's somehow always after me... I just don't trust that his intentions are good." You notice a sparrow trying to keep itself steady on a tree branch but the wind is just too strong, so it flies away. "He's breaking the law, which I can't forgive as an attorney. I also think that he's... Hiding more than just his identity."
"Why do you think he's doing all those things?"
"I don't know. It's hard to imagine yourself in a criminal's place when you've never... Did those things. But did other things." You lower your head in shame.
"You know that your secret is safe with me as long as you label it as a cofession." Father looks at you intently.
"I know. But... Do you believe in his doing? I suppose it's hard to do so when he's called the Devil."
"Hm. It's difficult to say... I understand where he's coming from... But it's not like I support his doings. Violence is never an answer." Father sits in silence for a moment, clearly thinking. "It is said that he's not killing anyone. At least he's smart enough to not get his hands bloody."
You scoff, feeling a lump in your throat. "At least someone shares a similar opinion. I just can't go to the office anymore without hearing Karen defend him. It almost seems that she's in love with him just because he saved her once."
"And he saved you more than once. Yet you don't share the same feelings with her."
You furrow your eyebrows, then sigh, "it's difficult. I... There's something between me and someone else going on. I don't know what will become of it, or how long will it last but..." You trail off, almost ashamed to admit your feelings.
"Is it... Matt?" Lantom asks and notices your cheeks redden. "I apologize for being so blunt, but I noticed the way you two were interacting during the funeral. The eyes never lie."
"Yes. But this has nothing to do with my disliking of this criminal... I just don't like him poking into my business. I don't know if I'm ready for the cofession... But with all the things that have happened... I just can't keep this a secret any longer. Not to myself."
"You can tell me anything, y/n. I can assure you that this will remain only between us. God is our witness, or what other lawyer words you may like to use."
A small smile appears on your face and you wish to have a cigarette in your hands, but settle on something more appropriate for this place. "I think I'll take that latte, Father."
*** 
Your return to the Nelson and Murdock office at the end of the day was a surprise to Foggy and Karen. Not a particularly pleasant one. "You said it youself about the extra help, Foggy." You hang your coat and drop your purse of your table, noticing the absence of Matt. 
"I was only joking, you only..." Foggy stumbles with his words, then decides to rephrase the sentence, "after yesterday, you shouldn't have come here. It's too soon."
"I'm okay, I promise." You walk into the kitchen with easiness in your step, causing more suspicion to Foggy and almost collide with Karen. Something about Karen felt suspicious and your thoughts travelled to Wesley. Why did Karen remind you of the fact that he was dead? Was it some supernatural sixth sense or just your head messing with you?
Your stare was cold and empty, but Karen squeezed a small smile nonetheless. "Hey. I uh, didn't think you'd be back so soon. I heard what happened. I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, I've never left actually. Unlike some of the people here." Your words cut like a broken piece of glass and Karen gulps, but then your eyebrows twitch, creating a more pleasant expression, "thanks, but nice words won't help Teneke anymore. I trust the FBI to do their job now."
"Right." Karen pulls away from the coffee maker to create more space for you. The calmness that you wore as a cloak on your shoulders was almost frightening. Something similar to a psychopath smiling.
"We got four new cases today." Foggy says loudly, breaking the awkwardness in the kitchen. 
"Huh, I guess I really am reviving the office with my glory hunting." 
"It was a nasty article from Bulletin." Karen takes her cup of coffee and turns on her heel to leave the kitchen area.
"I don't know, it got us clients." Foggy tries to joke, "I'm sorry, it was a bad attempt to joke. Did he really save you?"
You stop stirring the coffee and look at Foggy and Karen's faces - waiting for your confirmation. "Yes." You walk back to your office and close the doors, feeling them staring at you through the  windows.
"I... I think I'll go now, you better lay off the booze, Karen." Foggy gently nudges Karen, reminding her of their conversation before you came, and takes his briefcase from the table, opening the doors to leave when Matt makes an entrance, standing in the doorway. Both Matt and Foggy stand in silence, Matt, with an unreadable expression, and Foggy, scared, almost as if he saw a ghost. Matt takes two steps to the side, allowing Foggy to step out, which he does, as awkwardly as one could imagine. 
"Well that wasn't awkward." Karen says when Matt closes the door.
"What are you doing here so late? Or early or whatever it is?" Matt turns his head to the side, listening to Foggy's descending steps.
"Um, couldn't sleep." Karen replies.
"Lot of that going around."
"Seems like it's the only thing we still all have in common." Karen says, expecting Matt to say something, but he just gives her his typical shrug, making way to his office.
The smell of warm coffee and your perfume makes Matt feel at home and his shoulders visibly relax. "Didn't expect to have company."
"Neither did I." You can't stop the silly smile dancing on your lips when his fingers gently touch your shoulder while passing by. 
"Why are you not at home? What happened during the questioning?" He sits down in his old seat, taking some documents out of his briefcase.
"It was okay. For FBI. Can't believe I'm saying that feds did a good job, but they did. I think Dex and Ray worked their asses off last night to actually pull reliable evidence." You sigh, reading the same old documents of your cases, trying to find a connection with Fisk.
"You sound... Different." Matt slides his fingers on paper slowly, tracing every bump, every letter. 
"Different how?" 
"More calm. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah. Possibly now more than ever. I-" you get interrupted when Karen opens the door and announces her departure for tonight. You're left in a comfortable silence with Matt again.
"You were saying something." He reminds you, reaching for your cup of coffee.
"I went to a place after the questioning." You trail off, suddenly standing up and walking up to Matt. He hears the papers rustle and feels your presence next to him, leaning on the table. "The church."
"Church? You went there?" He can't help himself and puts his hand on your bare knee.  
"Surprised myself too." You chuckle. "But... had a long talk with Father Lantom. He certainly knows what advice to give."
"Yeah, he does." Matt replies, not asking any more questions, because his beliefs told him that confessions were strictly between a person and a priest. 
"He said that he missed you." You look down on Matt, gently touching his bruised cheek. "You should go there."
"I know." Matt leans into your touch, closing his eyes behind his red shades. His hand slides further up, on the inside of your thigh. 
"He told me to be patient. Because you, Murdocks, are hotheads." You can't help but spread your legs further apart to make space for Matt's hand, travelling closer to your core.
"He knows about us? Did you tell him?" 
"I think he's very good at reading people." You reply, feeling Matt place a gentle kiss on your thigh.
"Well, he wasn't wrong about Murdocks being hotheads." He slides in front of you with his chair, pushing your underwear down and pulling up your skirt. You don't stop him, on the contrary, sit on the edge of the table more comfortably, waiting for Matt's next move with a familiar anticipation in your stomach. Maybe that was what people called butterflies. 
You lose your train of thought when Matt kisses the inside of your thigh once, before diving to meet your clit with his hot tongue. You buckle your hips upon the contact and your fingers slide into his dark hair. "Matt..." You exhale loudly, when his slow and calculated movements suddenly quicken, and you can't help but bite your lip, in order to stop the moans from leaving your mouth. The thrill of thinking that either Foggy or Karen could return made your head spin. Matt moves his tongue with confidence, almost groaning at the feeling of finally doing what he wanted to do for a long time. And pleasuring you this way felt even better than he imagined. All your troubles disappeared and you felt the knot tightening in your stomach. "Matt, I'm gonna-" you don't get to finish your sentence when a strong orgasm takes over your body, your thighs trap Matt's head, shaking from the impact, and you feel him pressing your stomach with his hand to keep you in place, which adds to the sensation and you let out a frustrated moan. Matt waits for you to calm down and slowly kisses you, letting you taste your own high on his tongue.
"Fuck, you're gonna have to do this everyday." You kiss him again before standing up and fixing yourself.
"Gladly." Matt smiles with a lovesick grin, pulling back the papers for reading.
You leave him alone and go to the bathroom downstairs, a smile never leaving your face, but the conversation with Father Lantom resurfaces to your mind again.
*** 
'You don't like him so much because you wish he existed during those nights? You wanted for the so-called hero appear and save the day, right?'  Father Lantom's calm voice makes your head lift from the empty cup.
'Yes, I suppose.'
'You have to forgive yourself for this, child. I'm sure God has forgiven you long time ago.'
'I think the problem is Father, that I just don't believe in God. Maybe I am paying for that now.'
'Don't linger on bad moments for too long. You might forget what happiness feels like. And just... give yourself a chance to love. I might not know you so well as I know Matthew, but from what you've told me, you both need it. Don't give up on him so soon.' Lantom puts a hand on yours through the table in a fatherly manner and taps it twice. 'Be at peace, y/n.'
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kimerawrt · 16 days
Text
Dannymay 2024, now with kitty paws!
Prompts from my AU, also in AO3
Day 18: Revenge
There was a frown in the face of the halfa while he looked at his target. Danny was in the middle of a forest in human form, his hands were holding a thermos filled to the brim with ghosts and, just a few meters from him, there was a white building that seemed very out of place in this wild forest.
A week ago, some yetis from the Far Frozen had come to him asking for his aid. The Far Frozen were one of the few ghost tribes that were friendly towards him, maybe because the form he had when he met them was that of a cat made of ice. Because Danny cared a lot about the people and ghosts he considers friends, he agreed to help.
When Danny reached the Far Frozen, in the form of a green cat with an aurora borealis as a tail, he found not only the yetis but also Pandora, Skulker, Ember, Poindexter, Johnny and Kitty. Danny didn’t know why all the other ghosts were there, though he didn’t mind it and waited to find out what they needed him for. 
The information they got from Poindexter made everyone angry. The sepia ghost had witnessed some weak ghosts being captured by the government ghost hunters, and got extremely worried after overhearing what the agents planned to do with the ghosts captured. Besides, the agents also bragged that they had done even worse experiment in other ghosts but they faded before they could get the information they needed to destroy them
All the ghosts in the meeting wanted to storm out to the GIW base and destroy everything in revenge. Danny agreed but knew that there was a high chance that many ghosts would be hurt in their charge because they might have ecto-scanners that would warn them of the incoming attack.
Danny didn’t want any of his friends to be hurt, and luckily, he was able to calm them down before they stormed out of the meeting. He told them of a way he could get them close enough that the scanners would be useless and their surprise attack and rescue would be successful.
That's why Danny was currently in his human form just beside the GIW base with all his allies in the thermos. The scanners would not be able to detect him in human form and the thermos made it impossible for the scanners to be aware of the ghosts inside.
Seeing that it was time, Danny let the ghosts out. There were many warriors from the Far Frozen, Pandora had sent a hundred of her own warriors, Skulker, Ember, Johnny and Kitty had joined in the attack force as well. Poindexter was not good at fighting so he stayed behind to help in healing anyone they rescued in their attack.
Before attacking, Danny transformed into his ghost form. Sometimes, his random cat forms were in tune with his needs and feelings. Danny needed a lot of strength to endure the painful weapons the GIW used, and he was angry. Very angry.
The form he got made even his allies take a second look and his frenemies were glad that they never had to fight against that particular form.
From the trees, a giant feline appeared. Its size towered over the trees and its three skeletal heads, with dark holes as eyes, were filled with sharp fangs. Its body was covered in rotting flesh and one could easily see some parts with bones sticking out. The huge form looked like an undead cat cerberus coming from the underground itself to drag the sinners back.
“ROOAAARRR!” a head roared in challenge to the ghost hunters in the building.
“NYA!” another head wanted to have fun with the agents. It was a very sadistic head.
“HISSS!” the last head promised pain to all their enemies.
After the three war cries that sounded at the same time were done, Danny charged with all the other ghosts following behind him.
It was time for revenge.
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spectralarchers · 2 years
Text
made from these wicked things
by spectralarchers
Summary:
Barney Barton is the older brother of Avenger Clint Barton. That's about all his file says, and what the other Avengers and SHIELD agents know about him. But who is Barney Barton and why is it that Hawkeye refuses to speak about his older brother when prompted? Well, maybe it's easier to look at the story from Barney's perspective to understand that specific dynamic. After all, it isn't easy being overshadowed by your younger brother.
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Words: 51855 | Chapters: 19/19 | Language: English | Published: 2022-11-05 | Completed: 2022-12-01
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Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Relationships: Barney Barton & Clint Barton
Characters: Barney Barton, Clint Barton, Everett Ross, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, Yelena Belova, Antalya, Helmut Zemo, Wilfred Nagel, Carol Danvers (cameo), Laura Barton, Cooper Barton, Lila Barton, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, Lucky (Hawkeye), Lester | Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter, Hank Pym, Nick Fury, Melinda May, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill (briefly), Wolfgang von Strucker, Jessica Drew, Jasper Sitwell, Ayo (Marvel), Monica Rambeau, Thaddeus Ross
Additional Tags: NaNoWriMo 2022, Barney Barton needs a Hug, Canon Compliant, Past Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Where was Barney Barton?
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I hope you enjoy this story of where has Barney Barton been in the MCU. There's a secret plotline revolving around a side character which does not appear in the tags or character tags for the sake of a surprise for comic book fans ;)
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amberlynnmurdock · 4 months
Text
The Good In You (Chapter 1)
Pairing: Benjamin 'Dex' Poindexter x Reader
Series Summary: She's the new in-house nurse at the FBI headquarters in Manhattan. The only time she ever interacts with the agents is when she's stitching up their wounds. She's gotten to know almost all of them in this way, but there's one agent who's been harder to get to know. The other agents say what they want about Special Agent Poindexter, but she'll never speak negatively of him. Eventually, she does get to know him; she does get to know the good in him. At least for as long as the good lasts.
Genres: fluff, super angst, betrayal, reader wants Dex to be good so bad
A/N: Dex has got to be the most complex character to write lol, but it's so much fun. This idea dawned on me recently and I had to get it out there. I hope you like it! :)
Words: 3.5k
Ao3 Link
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It wasn’t often FBI agents needed tending to their wounds because often they could get the job done without a scratch. Still, the FBI headquarters in Manhattan needed a resident nurse for when some agents got banged up, and that nurse was her. 
She liked being a nurse at the FBI—believe it or not, it paid more than her previous job at Metro-General and it was up her alley to be working specifically with the FBI. She hated when her manager at Metro told her she’d yet again be switching departments, meaning she’d have to find a new way to commute to the hospital since it was so large and had different entrances. It was also hard to build a relationship with the patients there since she was often switched because the hospital couldn’t keep its shit together. Why get so attached to tending to the same patient almost every day, just for one day she'd be told she’d never be able to see them again? 
It took a toll on her since she was the type of person to get attached to people she cared about. She may not have known her patients for a long time, but the time she spent with them was precious. These people were sick or injured, and they leaned on her not only to help them, but to have someone to talk to when their family couldn’t make it on any particular day. 
So one day, she asked yourself, what’s the use? What’s the use in getting attached and being taken away so easily? What’s the use in letting the hospital treat her relationships with her patients as disposable? 
When she saw the open position for a nurse at the FBI, she hoped she’d at least be dealing with the same agents now and then. So far, she has. No more switching around—no more connections being cut for no reason. 
Being here almost six months, she’s come to know many of the agents. Many of them had families, some were new to the job—and for some, all they had was this job. Despite the only time she’d see these agents was when they were hurt, she looked forward to catching up with them in her exam room as she stitched up or cleaned their wounds.
Ray Nadeem is one of the agents who has a family. When it was Ray she had to tend to, she knew her time with him would be pleasant. He was—no pun intended—a ray of sunshine. A sweet family man, who truly cared about his job and justice. 
Ray is in her exam room today. Not for anything serious. A bunch of agents responded to a complaint downtown—gang members fighting at a liquor store. Truthfully, not the worst she’s heard them be called for. The FBI normally had everything under control in situations like that. Ray had a few scratches on his face, and he was pushed into an aisle of white wine. She could smell the wine on his jacket. She already checked for broken glass. She was now tending to the cut on his cheekbone. 
“Was it bad?” She asked him. 
Ray shook his head. “Not really. We apprehended them pretty quickly. We had enough agents there.”
“That’s good,” she said, focusing on cleansing the wound. “Early night at least.”
“Yeah,” Ray sighed, “just in time for me to tuck Sammy into bed.”
Her heart melted at the mention of his son. No amount of cuts on his face could keep Ray from smiling whenever he brought up his son. 
“How is Sammy doing? Is he going to try out for any sports this fall?” She asked. 
“Maybe soccer. He’s more interested in spring sports, like baseball.”
“Ah,” she smiled. “I’ve always found that more fun, too. Spring in general.”
“Yeah,” Ray sighed, again. A sigh she’s come to know as regretful, these past few months getting to know him. “Just wish I was able to surprise him in the spring with the pool he’s been begging for.”
“I’ve only been here a few months, and I know you’re due for a promotion,” she said knowingly. “It’s only September. Anything can happen in the next few months,” a hopeful tone laced in her voice. She didn’t have a license in therapy, but sometimes the agents treated her as such. She didn’t mind, though. 
“I hope so,” Ray said, exasperated. “Thanks, though. For fixing me up,” he pointed to the bandage she just finished putting on his face. “You make me look less scary coming home to Sammy.”
She wanted to laugh, but she stopped herself. It must be hard being an agent, working a daunting job, and coming home to a family like they don’t risk their life every day at work. Instead, she smiles softly at Ray. 
“Thankfully, there wasn’t much to clean up. Just a check-up, I say. Get home safe, Ray.”
“You too,” Ray said, standing up from the exam table. “You going home after this?”
“Hopefully before 10,” she glanced out the window that showed a completely dark sky. One of the perks of working at the FBI, they offered her a service to get her home safely so she didn’t have to worry about going home alone. At night, as a young woman in this city, walking home could be dangerous. 
“Good,” Ray said. “You deserve sleep just as much as we do. Everyone appreciates you being here. I hope you know that.” 
She smiled. “I’m happy to be here.”
“Night, __,” Ray said. “I’ll be sure to tell Sammy you said hi.”
“Please do.”
With one last reassuring nod, Ray left her room. She quickly filled out his file on the computer and checked off the remaining boxes: no head trauma, no serious injuries, no broken bones, no concussion. Just a good old-fashioned cleaning and bandaging. 
A knock on the door brings her out of her focus on the screen. 
“Come in,” she called, not looking to see who it was. By how the door was carefully opened and carefully shut, she felt the person was hesitant in their movements. 
“I’m sorry,” Special Agent Poindexter said. “I can come in when you’re ready.”
She swirled around in her chair to face him immediately. It wasn’t often Dex said much to her, so on the rare occasion he does decide to speak to her, she’s fully paying attention to what he has to say. 
“It’s okay, I was just finishing up,” she stood from her chair. She could see now that his forehead was dripping blood from a cut, and he was attempting to absorb it with the rough paper towels from the bathroom. This indicates why he opened the door to come in—he needed help now. “I’m sorry, Dex. Please sit.”
While she quickly washed her hands, Dex awkwardly shuffled to the exam table and propped himself up on it, holding the paper towel to his forehead. He’s covering half his face and his gaze is away from her, like it always was when it was his turn to be tended to. His dirty blonde hair was pushed to the side. The veins on his hand were prominent. 
“May I?” She asked him first, indicating she wanted to take away the paper towel to begin cleaning his wounds. He only offers her a small nod. 
Dex was hard to figure out—he wasn't like the other agents she’s tended to. He was quiet. Stoic. He wasn’t rude, but he also didn’t go out of his way to make conversation. That was fine by her. She never wanted anyone in her exam room to be uncomfortable or pressured to talk—these agents worked a hard enough job already. They can’t always be at 100% all the time. She just could never tell if Dex was or not. She chalked it up to him being super serious about work. He’s in, and then he’s out. Sometimes, she's tried for conversation, but it was always hit or miss. 
“This may sting,” she says gently. It’s something she says all the time to him, just to fill the silence between them. He faintly nods. His gaze stays away from her. She gently presses the alcohol-absorbed cotton pad over his wound. Ever so slightly his jaw clenches at the contact and he takes a small intake of breath. He shuts his eyes until the sting goes away. 
“I’m sorry,” she dabs on it again. “Just one more. It’s a deep cut.”
“It’s alright,” Dex reassures her. “You can do what you need to.”
Maybe it was a good thing Dex didn’t talk to her so much when he was here—his voice was deep, a hint of a New York accent. And his speaking so closely to her made it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. Now it was her turn to keep quiet. 
She dabbed at his wounds until the bleeding stopped. She grabbed fresh bandages and patched them up. 
“I have to ask you some questions,” she said carefully, feeling nervous for some reason. Dex had his full attention on her now, his gaze no longer hidden. An unreadable expression on his face. 
“Did you hit your head?”
“No.”
“Does your body hurt anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Is your vision blurred?”
“No.”
“Alright,” she nodded. “Otherwise, was tonight an okay night?”
Dex shifted on the exam table. “Yeah, it was fine. Easier than most.”
“Good,” she smiled. “Well, if nothing else hurts, then you’re free to go.”
“Thank you, __,” Dex says, and she realizes it's the first time he’s spoken her name. For a while there, she wondered if he ever cared to remember it. Maybe he was the type to have to warm up to someone first before he started a working relationship. That's alright—in a lot of ways, she was the same. “I appreciate it.”
And there it was again—another sentence from the agent she thought didn’t like her for the longest time. Sometimes the agents spoke of Dex in passing to her—saying the job went smoothly, save for Dex who was always too willing to go the extra mile when he didn’t need to. She never engaged in negative talk about him or anyone at the Bureau. She respected all their work. Everyone handles this job differently. Dex handles it in his way: by keeping to himself and keeping the conversation at a minimum. 
“You’re welcome,” she smiled. Dex offered a hint of a smile as he got up from the exam table. 
“Guess you can go home now?” Dex asks. He’s standing close to her as she crosses her arms, in an attempt to not appear nervous by the way he's looking at her. She's delighted at the attempts at conversation he’s finally making. 
“Yeah, you were the last agent I needed to see.”
“I’m sorry for keeping you,” he says, brows furrowed. 
“Don't be sorry. It’s my job,” she reasoned. “I like being here when I’m needed.”
Dex sighs; he looks tired. Despite his tiredness, she couldn’t deny how handsome he looked, even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. 
“Night, Dex. Get home safe.”
“You too.” 
***
Another night of tending to wounded FBI agents. This time, the wounds weren’t as simple. Some of them got really banged up—stitches were required this time. She was hyper-focused on the stitching she had to do on Ray on his left shoulder. He had his sleeve hanging off his shoulder and sat stiffly on the exam table, holding his breath at every movement. 
“Not a good night, huh?” She asked. 
“No,” Ray shook his head. “Not the worst, but I’ve had better.”
“Good thing the bullet was just a graze,” she reasoned, finishing up the last of his stitching. “Alright. You need to take it easy with that arm this weekend.”
“Will do,” Ray nodded. “Good thing I can hide this from Sammy with long sleeves. I hate to see him worrying about me.”
“I know,” she sighed. She got up to take off her gloves and wash her hands. She undid her hair in her claw clip and brushed it before twisting it up again. “It must be hard. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Ray shook his head. “Part of the job. Anyways, got any fun plans this weekend?”
“Not really,” she leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. “Catching up on sleep, probably.” It was already nearly midnight at the Bureau. “You?”
“Taking Sammy to the zoo with his friends,” Ray said. “Should be fun.”
“It will be. I’ll see you Monday, Ray.”
Ray slides his jacket on and exits her exam room. She washes your hands again before preparing for the next—and final—agent she has to stitch up. Of course, it was Dex. He was always the last to be seen. Of all the agents, he managed to always get hurt the least. 
Dex is waiting patiently on the chair outside her exam room, anticipating his turn to see her. He enjoyed being around her because he didn’t have to pretend to be anyone—didn’t have to pretend the job was hard. All these men and women around him had families to come home to, or they had someone waiting at home for them. That’s what made it hard for them. Dex didn’t have anyone. That’s what made it so easy. 
And his fellow agents could never understand his nonchalantness about it all. He didn’t care. That was on them. He only got checked out by her because he had to—it was a requirement that all agents see the nurse before heading home after a task. Truthfully, he didn’t need to see her. Perhaps he just wanted to. 
“Dex?” She calls his name, pulling him from his thoughts. Dex is slouched in the chair, but he perks up when he hears her say his name. She leaves the door open and he closes it behind him when he enters her exam room. 
Her hair is up—he often wondered what it would look like if it were down. He's never seen her look casual before. Always in scrubs, always hair pushed back. Her scrubs were dark navy blue to match his FBI jacket, with a small FBI logo near her left shoulder. A piece of her hair falls to the front of her face, slightly framing it. He doesn’t blush, but he thinks she looks pretty. Really pretty. And tired, just like him. 
Dex takes his seat naturally on the exam table. She grabs her stethoscope and raises her hands to touch his face, but stops. 
“May I?” She asks, like she always did. Dex nods and looks away from her gaze. It was easier to get through these visits if he wasn’t looking at her. He feels her fingertips gently hold his face to get a better look at his wounds that don’t hurt that much. 
“Well, they’re not bad. Not bad at all,” she says, unsure if she is saying it out loud for herself or for him to know as well. He didn’t care if he was hurt. “Definitely will need cleaning though. But let me make sure your heart is all good and your head is fine.”
“It’s fine,” Dex reassures her, but he knows it’s no use. 
“I still have to check,” she gives a small smile. He nods in understanding. She places the stethoscope on his back and asks him to breathe deeply three times, which he does. Everything sounds good, she says. She then places her fingers on his head, searching for any bumps or bruises. He closes his eyes at this—truthfully, if he had a favorite part, this was it. For a moment, the thoughts that swarmed in his head were quieted when he felt her fingers trace over his head. It was hypnotizing almost, a trance he never wanted to snap out of. 
And when her hands disappeared, he was brought to reality. 
“All good,” she says softly. “I’ll clean up your wounds and you’ll be out of here before you know it.”
“You don’t have to rush,” Dex tells her. “I don’t need to be anywhere.”
“On a Friday night?” She questions with a smile as she cleans her hands at the sink. He knows she’s being nice, but truthfully he didn’t have anywhere to be. Just home. If he could even call it that. 
“Yeah,” he laughs half-heartedly, an attempt to match her attitude. “Got no plans for Friday.”
“Same here,” she sighs as she puts on the periwinkle-colored gloves. “My plans are sleep and more sleep.”
This time Dex laughs—really laughs—because he agrees. He hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, despite how tired all the time he feels. “I get that,” Dex nods. He relaxes a little bit more on the exam table. 
She dabs the cotton pad in alcohol and lets it dry before she places it on his wounds. There’s a cut on his forehead, right cheekbone and a little wound on his jawline. She opens her mouth to speak, but Dex cuts her off. 
“I know it’ll sting,” he says gently. “It’s fine.” 
She smiles sheepishly, “I do give that warning a lot, huh?”
“It’s alright,” Dex shrugs. “It’s nice to be warned of pain before it happens. That’s not always the case.”
“How—“ she begins, furrowing her eyebrows. Contemplating the wording of her question. “How do you brace yourself? For all this? This job?” 
Dex sighs. It wasn’t an easy question to answer, because he truthfully didn’t have an answer. Most agents would probably chalk it up to it being part of the job, but it wasn’t that simple for Dex. It… was just a job. If he got hurt, he got hurt. There was nothing else to it. No one would be upset if he got hurt—no one would cry for him. 
Plus, the other part of it, despite it sounding cocky… it was rare Dex ever got hurt in the line of battle. He was a sniper—he was part of the SWAT unit. He was the one who did the hurting. He was the one who used lethal force. It was rare he ever missed. 
“Mindset is everything,” Dex says anyway. “I know what I have to do. I have a job to do.”
“That makes sense,” she says, believing him. “I mean, if it makes you or any of the agents feel better, despite this being my job—it doesn’t make it any easier seeing you guys hurt like this.”
“It doesn’t?” Dex questions. 
“Of course not,” she said. “I’ve… gotten to know a lot of you over the past few months being here. A lot of these agents have families. A wife or husband to come home to. They open up about that a lot. There are other ways to be hurt than just having physical wounds.”
Dex takes in what she’s saying. He swallows hard. 
“It’s just me,” Dex tells her. “I’ve only got me to worry about me. That’s why it’s easier for me to come in and do what I need to do.” 
As she listens to him say this, a thought pings in her head. She noticed on the file she has on him that he didn’t have any relatives listed as an emergency contact. Ray had his wife, Hattley her husband—all the other agents had someone listed. But Dex had no one listed as an emergency contact. She knew he wasn’t being sheepish when he said he was all he had—it was the truth. Sad, but true. 
She doesn’t say anything in return. She continues to clean his wounds and bandage him up in silence—comfortable silence, for once. Dex’s eyes remain looking at the floor as she works her fingers around his temple. She gently lifts his chin with her fingers to get a better angle at the cut on his jaw—his jawline that appears to have been sculpted by the Gods. Being this close to him, she got a whiff of the faint smell of his cologne, now mixed with the smell of sweat. With one last check on his face, she tells him she’s done. 
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asks him, leaning against the counter and facing him. 
Dex rises from the exam table and circles his shoulder to stretch. “No. I’m fine.”
“Alright well,” she sighs, feeling somewhat shy by the way he’s looking at her, giving her his full attention. “Get home safe, Dex.”
“You, too, __,” Dex breathes out. “And thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough.”
“It’s alright—no need.”
With a small smile, Dex is almost on his way out of her exam room—until he hears her call his name under her breath. 
“Dex,” she says, hesitant with her words. “Don’t take this the wrong way. But you’re not all you have. You’re not alone. You’ve got me now to be worried about you,” she tells him, offering a genuine smile. 
Dex looks away from her, stumped by her words. Regardless if she really meant it or not—it was nice for him to hear. Nice to know that he could be wrong about something he’s always firmly believed. 
He doesn’t say anything in return. He holds her gaze for a few moments, holds her smile, and puts it to his memory. He smiles back. And then he leaves. Maybe he would get some good sleep tonight, knowing someone worried about him. 
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xbullseye · 4 months
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@amarvelousmencgerie
A call from Agent Madani meant Dex was one of the first FBI agents to arrive on the scene at the Royal Hospitality hotel. There was often overlap between the organizations, and the two of them were friendly-- or as friendly as Dex ever got with his colleagues. He was the sort of person who tended to keep to himself, for his safety and everyone else's, but he liked Dinah. She was a good agent, a good person. She'd been vague on the phone, but he got the sense that all wasn't as it should be with this crime scene.
She'd specifically requested that he talk to Page first because she trusted him-- which meant there was at least one person here she wasn't sure she could trust, if not more. Mahoney? Mahoney had a reputation for being a good cop too, but reputation wasn't always the truth. His mind was busy sorting and cataloguing the details while he made his way to the hotel room in question. The NYPD rarely appreciated the FBI stepping in on their crime scenes, and he could tell Mahoney didn't like letting him in first. He also didn't have much of a choice.
He left the door open, knowing it would put Mahoney and Page at ease and trusting the NYPD officer to keep anyone else from coming through it. The room still smelled of smoke and gunpowder, and Karen herself looked like she'd been through something. He knew her by reputation only, having listened to her radio show. He gave a friendly smile as he took the seat on the couch across from her, offering his badge for her inspection. "Hi there, Ms. Page. I appreciate your patience while we sort through all of this. I'm Agent Benjamin Poindexter from the FBI. Dinah Madani gave me a call. How are you feeling?"
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sunset-a-story · 1 year
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Find The Word X 3
Trying to catch up from earlier this week! I got tagged by @winterandwords @vsnotresponding and @gummybugg the last couple of days so I'm going to combine them! Thanks so much for the tags, folks! I love doing these.
I took a couple words from each tag so my words are kill, erase, stone, keep, kiss, empty, and smoke.
Stone
Ahead of them on the side of the road, he could see a large stone sign with the solar system logo carved in relief, the same logo he’d seen on Reeve’s laptop over his shoulder. Alex felt a flutter of nerves. "No one else is going to be dressed like this," he complained as Reeve slowed. “I'm serious, everyone's going to be in jeans and shit and then it's gonna be poindexter-me.” “I’m dressed like this,” he replied through thin lips. Alex rolled his eyes. “Oh, big consolation there.”
Kill & Erase--two for one!
The erasing of Icarus was done in the field by Retrieval teams-- Neptune agents tasked with finding Icarus on the run. It wasn’t the kind of thing normally done in a holding cell. It wasn’t unheard of for the Reintegration of a caught Icarus to fail, leading them to be erased, but it was rare and it had become even rarer since Freddie began running Neptune’s Reintegration branch. People across Sol may be frightened by Reintegration agents, but in truth, they just wanted to save every single Icarus out there. Killing someone meant failure. And what had happened with Colin was a symptom of a deep failure.
Kiss & Keep (Kept)
When her pens ran out of ink or her pencils wore down to nibs, she dropped them where she sat and picked up a new one from the cup of writing instruments that he kept constantly refilled. A clear bin on her desk was a third of the way filled with memory cards from her voice recorder. They’d brought in a twin bed for her to sleep on, though, last he’d heard, Dakota had to medicate her to get her to sleep at all. Rafe leaned over and kissed her head, though she didn’t seem to notice. She was thinner than before she’d gone under, and her hair had grown out a little to be slightly stringy and worse for wear. Her hands looked red and angry, the heel of her writing hand black with ink and graphite.
Empty
“Please god, not another telepath,” Gareth muttered. “Here here,” Hannah said, raising her beer. Gareth clicked the neck of his beer into hers with a chuckle. Sighing, Reeve raised his empty hand and mimed toasting with them.
Smoke
[context: this is at the SolCorp corporate Halloween party and in Sunset alcohol messes with mental knacks like telepathy] Jake wasn’t hungry but if he had a drink he would have something to do with his hands so he headed to a table lined with punch bowls made to look like large black cauldrons with smoke emanating from them. Two at the end had been labeled as non-alcoholic but someone, who’d clearly worked their way down the other punch bowls first, had scrawled, “Sad telepath juice,” on a piece of paper and propped it up in front of a blood-red drink with fruit floating in it. It seemed appropriate so he poured himself a glass.
No pressure tagging @iced-ginger-tea @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @void-botanist and @thatndginger Your words are: breath, pink, goodbye, and need
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brookstonalmanac · 3 months
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Events 3.16 (after 1970)
1977 – Assassination of Kamal Jumblatt, the main leader of the anti-government forces in the Lebanese Civil War. 1978 – Former Italian Prime Minister Aldo Moro is kidnapped; he is later murdered by his captors. 1978 – A Balkan Bulgarian Airlines Tupolev Tu-134 crashes near Gabare, Bulgaria, killing 73. 1978 – Supertanker Amoco Cadiz splits in two after running aground on the Portsall Rocks, three miles off the coast of Brittany, resulting in the largest oil spill in history at that time. 1979 – Sino-Vietnamese War: The People's Liberation Army crosses the border back into China, ending the war. 1984 – William Buckley, the CIA station chief in Lebanon, is kidnapped by Hezbollah; he later dies in captivity. 1985 – Associated Press newsman Terry Anderson is taken hostage in Beirut; he is not released until December 1991. 1988 – Iran–Contra affair: Lieutenant Colonel Oliver North and Vice Admiral John Poindexter are indicted on charges of conspiracy to defraud the United States. 1988 – Halabja chemical attack: The Kurdish town of Halabja in Iraq is attacked with a mix of poison gas and nerve agents on the orders of Saddam Hussein, killing 5,000 people and injuring about 10,000 people. 1988 – The Troubles: Ulster loyalist militant Michael Stone attacks a Provisional IRA funeral in Belfast with pistols and grenades. Three persons, one of them a member of PIRA are killed, and more than 60 others are wounded. 1995 – Mississippi formally ratifies the Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution, becoming the last state to approve the abolition of slavery. The Thirteenth Amendment was officially ratified in 1865. 2001 – A series of bomb blasts in the city of Shijiazhuang, China kill 108 people and injure 38 others, the biggest mass murder in China in decades. 2003 – American activist Rachel Corrie is killed in Rafah by being run over by an Israel Defense Forces bulldozer while trying to obstruct the demolition of a home. 2005 – Israel officially hands over Jericho to Palestinian control. 2010 – The Kasubi Tombs, Uganda's only cultural World Heritage Site, are destroyed in a fire. 2012 – Former Indian cricketer Sachin Tendulkar becomes the first batter in history to score 100 centuries in international cricket. 2014 – Crimea votes in a controversial referendum to secede from Ukraine to join Russia. 2016 – A bomb detonates in a bus carrying government employees in Peshawar, Pakistan, killing 15 and injuring at least 30. 2016 – Two suicide bombers detonate their explosives at a mosque during morning prayer on the outskirts of Maiduguri, Nigeria, killing 24 and injuring 18. 2020 – The Dow Jones Industrial Average falls by 2,997.10, the single largest point drop in history and the second-largest percentage drop ever at 12.93%, an even greater crash than Black Monday (1929). This follows the U.S. Federal Reserve announcing that it will cut its target interest rate to 0–0.25%. 2021 – Atlanta spa shootings: Eight people are killed and one is injured in a trio of shootings at spas in and near Atlanta, Georgia, U.S. A suspect is arrested the same day. 2022 – A 7.4-magnitude earthquake occurs off the coast of Fukushima, Japan, killing 4 people and injuring 225.
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wistfuldarkmindpalace · 7 months
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Info about wistfulmindpalace
ROLEPLAY BLOGS
Sideblogs:
Natasha Romanoff : @xwidowsbitex
Bucky Barnes: @awhitewolfbucky
Baron Zemo: @baronxzemo
The Homelander from The Boys: @hcmelanderx
Tony Stark: @geniusstark
Stephen Strange: @strangestephenx
Kayla Silverfox from X-men Origins Movie: @kaylaxsilverfox
Magneto X-Men: @magnetcerik
Raven - Mystique: @ravenxmystique
Deadpool: @xwadewilsondp
Elektra Natchios: @elektranatchiosx
Loki: @xlckilaufeysonx
Charles Xavier: @xcharlesxavierx
Poindexter Bullseye From Daredevil: @poindexterbullseye
Victor Von Doom: @victorvondoomx
Agent 47 (Hitman): @tobiasriper47
Agent Smith from Matrix: @agentsmithx
Trinity from Matrix: @ofmatrixtrinity
Santino D'Antonio: @santinodantoniox
Hannibal Lecter: @symphonicpsyche
Rck Grimes: @rickgrimex
Nina Williams From Tekken : @deathbyninawilliams
Joe Goldberg: @joegoldbergx
Patrick Bateman:
@patrickbatemanx
Harley Quinn:
@harleyquinzelx
The Killer from Netflix:
@thekillerx
Tom Ripley
@tomripleyx
Cersei Lannister
@cerseilannisterx
Aemond Targaryen
@aemondtargaryenxx
Theon Greyjoy
@theongreyjoyx
Jaime Lannister
@jaimekingslayerx
Negan Smith
@negansmithx
Myranda (Game of Thrones)
@myrandaoframsay
Lila from Dexter
@lilatournaydex
Brian Moser
@brianmoserx
Youtube Channel:
My art: here
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Since Tumblr didn't cast my submission to @loathingconfessions into the void, and I was able to find paper and a pen in my Air BnB, I present- shitty sketches of some of my SOL ocs!
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From left to right-
Alex Blanke, Jane Goodwill, and Lethe.
More info under the cut.
Alex Blanke
Pronouns- They/Them
Background- Lost Soul
Class- Jazz Agent
Minor- Cryptobotany
SIT Classes- Robotechtronics, Astronomy, Physical Education
A cabaret singer from New Orleans, Alex was summoned to Ocean City to assist their uncle Murray with his antiques shop, only to find him missing.
Their leap down the rabbit hole winds up garnering the attentions of Terrence Poindexter, the city's accountant general, Lord of Order, and member of the Familia Umbra. {Theme: You're All Scotch, No Soda- Sarah and the Safe Word}
Jane Goodwill
Pronouns- She/Her
Background- Haunted
Class- Pig Skinner
Minor- Insectology
SIT Classes- Botany, Meta-Acoustics, Culinary Science
The only daughter of a New York business magnate, Jane lived a privileged life.
But then her family succumbed to the shadow taint, at the behest of General Bruise, with her being forced to kill many, including her beloved father, when she fought her way to safety.
She came to Ocean City when she found evidence suggesting it was the corruption's source, desperate for vengeance.
Her blind bloodlust caught the attention of General Bruise, the Shadow of War, and another member of the Familia Umbra. He had completely forgotten who she was or what he did to her. She will make damn sure he remembers.
{Theme(s): Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift/ WEEDKILLER- Ashnikko}
Lethe
Child of Alex Blanke and Terrence Poindexter.
Their hair is supposed to be a starfield, not sure how well that comes across.
They're an epilogue-exclusive character currently, so elaborating on how their parents got together is a bit spoiler-y.
They do not have a surname.
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