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Genre: Fluff ♡ | Angst ☾ | Smut ★ | AU ◇
→ BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST
Contains all Bucky Barnes works since 2018!
Tenderhearted Traditions | 1.2k words | ♡
You and Shangchi spend quality time together while he teaches you how to make dumplings (水饺 = shuí jiǎo)
Shades of Blue | 7.5k words | ☾ ♡
You melted into him, binding together a piece of shattered cobalt who was trying to hold himself together. The warm blues and purples of you, coalescing with the cool ceruleans of him, both complementary and clashing. Or the different chapters of Dex’s life bookmarked by different blue hues.
Anywhere But Home | 5.7k words | ♡ ☾
With your contract coming to an end, Mr. Charles wants to resign you. However, negotiations get turned on its head when he uses a bargaining chip you least expect. What better way for him to leverage what he wants than involving Dex?
Candid Confessions | 4k words | ♡
You have been harboring feelings for Ben for quite some time. When a moment with Ben in the Fantasti-Kitchen literally sweeps you off your feet, you think maybe it’s time to finally tell him.
Post Meridiem Confessions | 1.4k words | ♡
It’s during that particular time of day when the afternoon begins to wane and the evening slowly seeps into the horizon. It’s when the team wasn’t up to their elbows in missions, a reprieve — a weekend maybe, where time leisurely slowed down. A beautiful yet quiet respite that allowed game nights, shared dinners with the team, or in this case the simple act of spending time together. A moment for you and Bob.
Home Is In Your Arms | 1.2k words | ♡
There was no place you would rather be than in his arms.
Underwater | 3.6k words | ★ ♡
You were a siren waiting in his bed, beckoning him like he was a sailor to join you. Instead of singing, you drew him in with the sound of your laugh.
Disorderly Sorcery | 5.6k words | ♡
Your emotions are linked to your magic, and when you accidentally brush hands with Bob, who you have feelings for, sparks fly, literally, from your sling ring. What could possibly go wrong?
Dreamscape | 4.3k words | ☾ ♡
Dreams can be a fickle thing. Most of your dreams were fuzzy — sometimes they were absurd and never made a lick of sense, sometimes you couldn’t even recall them. But this time, it felt very real. You got a glimpse into a nightmare of a scenario, something terrifying yet unfathomable to describe. However, Bob also had a dream, and what he tells you puts your heart at ease.
Affection is the Best Medicine | 2.1k words | ♡
When you come back from a mission injured and in need of assistance, Bob drops everything to take care of you.
Boop | ~800 words | ♡
“You Midgardians certainly have weird jargon to label certain acts of affection.”
Chilling Love | 2.1k words | ♡
Your ice powers eventually reveal Loki’s Jotun form.
Cold Coffee | 1k words | ♡
Who needs coffee when Loki has you to wake up to?
Battle of The Tickles | 1.4k words | ♡
You and Loki take competition way too seriously.
Hereafter | 3.2k words | ☾
Your heart was encased with love, cradled and protected in the hands of your one and only, who let you hold his heart back in return. Now your heart is left defenceless, fragile, shattered in a million pieces and most of all, missing him and his love.
A Day at The Beach | 1.3k words | ♡
Fun times at the beach with Peter Parker and the Avengers!
What They Don’t Know | 2.6k words | ♡ ☾ (Discontinued)
You have your secret life and Peter has his. After a mission that involved help from SHIELD and the Avengers, you and Peter realize that the two of you aren’t just high school students from the looks of it.
Bundled Up | 2.3k words | ♡ ◇
After losing your scarf somewhere on campus, Peter makes you wear his and brings you two ever so closer while waiting for the bus in the cold winter evening.
Work of Art | 2.3k words | ♡
You and Steve have a mutual love for art. And mutual love for each other.
True Love | 4k words | ♡
It was in the smallest of touches and slightest lifts of smiles on your faces. It was in your heartbeats that drummed away in your chests. You and Steve didn’t need to say it – but Steve still said it, because it was the first time he officially declared it to you, as his best friend and now his lover.
Florescence | 3.1k words | ♡
Florescence: the state of flowering. The buds of palomellas and snowblooms is all it takes for your confessions to finally blossom.
Afterglow | 1.6k words | ♡
You wake up to your husband during the tail-end of the early hours of the morning.
Behind Those Eyes | 1.1k words | ♡
You say those three special words to Viktor after being captivated by his endearing and expressive eyes.
Home | 1.2k words | ♡
You have an epiphany about Viktor during the snowy and festive yet cozy morning of Winterfest.
Lovers | 1.6k words | ♡
Unnamed and undefined, you don’t know where your relationship with Viktor stands. But, when you mention that Viktor’s moles are signs of where his past lover would kiss him in his past life, you two slowly push your relationship across that threshold and put an official description.
Connor
I Love You A Latte | ~800 words | ♡
Connor decides to surprise you and make something special for you to drink when you wake in the morning.
There’s Love in Your Eyes | 1.8k words | ☾ ♡
The deviant holding you hostage leads to Connor’s confession.
Shirtsleeves | 1k words | ☾ ♡
A confrontation with a violent deviant went south and you believe that you could have prevented it from occurring. Connor wipes the tears from your eyes and reassures that you are not the one at fault.
Markus
Compatible | 1k words | ♡
You’re a human made from skin and bones. He’s an android made from synthetic parts and metal. But that doesn’t hinder the love you two have for each other.
This whole thing can get really scary.. but the people who love you... love you because you're you. Never forget that... ...no matter how powerful you become.
feeling guilty over not working on your fic is so silly if you think about like why are you stressing over the hobby you do in your free time for fun lol wip not whip
Summary: With your contract coming to an end, Mr. Charles wants to resign you. However, negotiations get turned on its head when he uses a bargaining chip you least expect. What better way for him to leverage what he wants than involving Dex?
Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x gn!reader
Words: 5.7k
Content/Warnings: Established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, codependency, slight freak4freak, murder, assassin!reader, morally grey reader, mentions of knives and guns, fluff, angst
A/N: This can be read as a continuation of Shades of Blue, but can be totally read as a standalone! So Mr. Charles (played by the wonderful Mathew Lillard) was an intriguing character in DDBA, but after the finale, it left me with more questions than answers. This kinda got me brainstorming, especially what the implications are for Dex.
Nothing beats the sound of eggs sizzling in a well-oiled pan and the clacking of a new magazine being reloaded into a sniper rifle in the morning.
Well, for you and Dex, at least.
Golden sunlight spilled through the window, bouncing off the kitchen tiled walls and illuminating the apartment in a gentle glow. Dex stood in front of the stove, taking in the sun’s rays as he prepared breakfast for the both of you. He closed his eyes momentarily, soaking in the daylight and with a quick flick of his wrist, he flipped the egg, catching it in the pan without looking.
You caught Dex flaunting his skill in the corner of your eye, making you quietly chuckle to yourself. A smirk perked on his lips.
Showoff.
A sniper rifle sat in your lap and an old magazine from your last mission of killing anti-viligante task force officers was tossed onto the small yet only table in Dex’s apartment. As you snapped new ammunition in, sunshine filtered through the half-opened curtains, warming your face and providing ample light for you to check for any repairs or cleaning concerns.
Taking care of your rifle was a force of habit that you couldn’t shake. After many years of taking on jobs and contracts for others, it meant that your morning procedures included having your weapons readily equipped when needed. It kept you grounded in a way, like how Dex’s morning routine consisted of warm ups and making the bed with military precision.
As you moved on to cleaning your pistol, you caught the blurs of Dex moving around the kitchen. He went around grabbing ingredients from the fridge and the proper utensils he needed, all to make your favourite meal for breakfast.
Dex took it upon himself to cook for you, including you into his breakfast regimen he built for himself. To him, being the one to cook in the morning ensured he upheld his own structure and ensured he followed the steps and procedures that made sense to him.
In the past, the slight change in his routine would have put a wrench in his mornings, make him feel like he couldn’t control the situation at hand, but knowing that this accommodation was a way to provide for you, the thought of proving and how much he cared for you overruled any gripes he might have had.
After cleaning your guns until it met your standards, you cleared the table just as Dex swooped by, placing your plate in front of you and his across from it.
Rising from your seat, you placed your hand on the hardened plane of his chest, leaning forward to peck his lips with a quick yet just as sweet kiss. The heat of his body seeped through his tank top, warming the palm of your hand.
“It’s perfect. Thank you, Dex.” You grinned.
Dex’s lips twitched into a smile, the crow’s feet by his eyes greeting you as the tips of his ears dusted pink, “Of course.”
Over the course of getting to know Dex, you learned that he craved praise. It was always clear in his eyes and on his face when you thank or compliment him, hazel eyes lighting up like he was a kid again, longing for attention and for someone to applaud him for his skills. And you couldn't help but indulge him.
Breakfast was quiet, yet comforting. No words were shared as you ate your meals, preferring to sit in the calm of Dex’s apartment. You noticed the greens in Dex’s eyes, glowing from the sunlight as it mixed with the ambers of his irises. As you gazed at him, Dex couldn’t help but smirk while he took a bite of his fried egg.
Reaching across the table, he grasped your hand with his free one, his sight never leaving you as he held your palm with calloused fingers.
It was almost absentminded with the way he studied your hand. Dex ran the tip of his finger down yours, his touch featherlike as he traced from the top of your knuckle and all the way down to the tip of your nail. His touch bisected your fingers, a perfect line straight down the middle. He trailed each finger and your thumb like that, slow and gentle, as if he was soothing you. But if anything, it was Dex who was soothing himself.
It was like he was committing you to his memory, feeling your touch under his skin and remembering how he felt as he studied you in detail. Recalling images of you in his head wasn’t enough — he wanted to remember everything about you in this moment.
And you couldn’t help but be affected by it, never having someone stay in your life, let alone this long and this infatuated. For him to play with your fingers while you ate breakfast was an almost overwhelming feeling, where his fixation of you made you feel weirdly seen for once.
You were hired for your skills and many saw you as a mere asset for their own personal goals.
Go eliminate this target.
You’re tasked to help the Ten Rings organization with their global operations.
O.X.E. wants to hire you for a few months.
Take out the AVTF squad around this block.
And while Dex was drawn into who you were as an assassin, he wanted to know who you were underneath all the guns and contract kills.
With the nature of your work, you never had the opportunity to grow close to someone, and it made you believe that you didn’t need connections, or even someone’s affection.
But now you’re starting to consider that maybe it was dormant inside you all along, just waiting for that one person to ignite that flame within you. He’s awakened something inside you that you craved for, feeling wanted in a way that made you feel valued and appreciated beyond the violence you were so desensitized to.
Your hands, worn from holding sniper rifles and guns, now had a pair of calloused yet strong hands holding yours. After walking through the motions of life, Dex’s palms finally found yours amidst the mayhem of Fisk’s empire, his institutionalization, and so much bloodshed.
Despite knowing how many lives Dex has taken and the amount of destruction he’s caused, you didn’t care one bit. Because the only person who could possibly or remotely understand the nature of your work was someone who had more blood on his hands than yours. And you were willing to overlook every red flag Dex brought with him everywhere he went if it meant he continued to stay.
Suddenly, you realized you had spaced out, snapping back into focus after the feeling of Dex’s touch had lulled you into your thoughts.
After finishing your breakfast, Dex took the dishes to the kitchen sink, scrubbing each plate and utensil clean until he believed they were thoroughly clean.
The sound of water running echoed in the background as you checked your phone, double checking the coordinates that were sent to you.
When you received a message from your boss this morning, you initially thought you were assigned another AVTF squad to eliminate. But when you saw the news that Fisk was exiled from the country and the AVTF was abolished, he asked to meet with you in person, wanting to discuss a potential new contract for you.
You were going to be in close quarters so you decided you weren’t going to bring your rifle, knowing you would be placed at a disadvantage if you did so. But your pistol was definitely staying at your hip. Better safe than sorry.
Turning off the tap, Dex felt the pan he just washed with his thumb. No sign of food residue, thankfully.
Just as you holstered your gun to your hip, Dex slowly walked up to you, reaching towards your pistol. He fiddled with your holster, pulling it down on your belt and making micro adjustments, ensuring it sat properly by his standards.
“How long will you be gone?” He asked, the words sounding hoarse as if he was trying to force them out of his mouth.
“An hour or two at most. I won’t be gone for long.”
Dex’s hands left your belt, returning to his sides as he hung his head forward, finding the floor much more interesting than looking you in the eye.
“...I don't want you to leave.” He muttered, eyes locked on the dingy flooring of his apartment.
You instantly cupped his cheeks, feeling the beginnings of stubble prick your palms as you leaned his head back up. Those bright hazel eyes had dimmed, and you couldn’t help but spot the twinge of sadness in his irises. Dex reached up, lightly gripping your wrists with his hands, thumbs brushing across your pulse points softly. The look of dejection on his face pierced through your heart like a bullet.
Immediately, the realization made your heart ache. With both Fisk and the AVTF gone, Dex didn’t have a target to focus on anymore. You failed to consider that outside of what he had set out to do with the Fisks, he didn’t have a clear purpose or anything else to keep his mind occupied.
What’s worse is that Dex didn’t have any connections, except for you, the only person he could rely on who was leaving him by himself. Sure, it would only be a few hours, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty about the idea of leaving Dex alone. It was like you were walking away from a pet with separation anxiety, and Dex was giving you his best puppy eyes to guilt you.
You brushed the underside of his cheek scar with your thumb, tenderly caressing the scarred tissue as you thought about a temporary solution.
“How about you come with me?” You suggested. “Just keep your distance like you always do and watch my six.”
It was like all of the sadness in him disappeared, eyes lighting back up with a gleam. A small grin lifted on his lips.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t step out of line.”
“...Don’t kill Mr. Charles.”
“I won’t. But why?” Dex furrowed his brows, looking at you like you said the most offensive thing ever in his eyes.
“Because I want to keep getting paid, Dex.” You laughed.
He gave you a blank stare. “But if he tries anything?”
You rolled your eyes. “If negotiations go sideways then sure, you can lodge a knife in his knee or something. And if my life is truly in danger, then you can kill him.”
Dex rolled his head from side to side, weighing his options.
“Both knees.” He offered.
“Fine, both knees.”
Dex geared up, adorned in his full Bullseye attire, jacket, gloves, and his balaclava hanging off his belt as you double checked your pistol.
As you turned to head to the door, Dex grasped your wrist, spinning you back around to kiss you.
You couldn’t help but smile against his lips, your hands finding his shoulders before they traveled up, cupping the sides of his jaw. Dex’s hands held your waist with a firm grip, pressing his lips against yours with a kiss full of heat and hunger. You deepened the kiss, meeting Dex with the same fervor and eagerness as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth. You sighed into his mouth when you felt a tug at the side of your belt, making you pull away.
Glancing down, your eyes met the handle of a familiar blade. Dex attached one of his sheathed knives to your belt on the opposite hip of your pistol. The brown leather of the sheath contrasted with the darkness of your gear, a pop of colour and a reminder of the identity you have become entangled with. His hands brushed your sides, craning his head side to side, examining your gear to make sure everything was secure.
“Just in case.” He insisted, before kissing the center of your forehead, right in between your eyebrows.
A bullseye.
You playfully rolled your eyes, but you can’t help but find his intentions and gestures sweet regardless. Albeit, it was in Dex’s way of caring, which was giving you one of his own knives.
You kissed his scarred cheek.
“Thank you.” You smiled.
Even just a simple thank you made Dex’s eyes light up.
The walk to the harbour and the warehouses by the water was just as quiet and comforting as it was in the morning. The sun continued to beam down on the both of you as you and Dex maneuvered and weaved through neighborhoods that had less foot and road traffic.
Dex took out a quarter from his pocket as he followed you, tossing it up and down in the air with his hand as you squeezed through a narrow alley. Suddenly, you heard the quarter ping multiple times off the sides of the buildings, ricocheting off fire escape ladders and garbage bins before you heard it land directly into the palm of Dex’s hand, the coin muffled by the sound of leather gloves.
You couldn’t help but sigh quietly to yourself before you scoffed, not even bothering to look behind you to know that Dex had his signature smirk on his face.
Flaunting his aim again as always.
By the time you got to the river port, the ocean breeze had offset the heat of the sun, bringing in salty winds to cool you down and giving you a nice breath of fresh air.
Hiding behind some discarded shipping containers, you told Dex to stay nearby, telling him to wait for a bit then sneak into the abandoned warehouse by the water where you would be meeting Mr. Charles. With a single nod, Dex tugged his mask down, sharp eyes watching you as you strolled to the doors of the warehouse.
You quickly rolled your shoulders back before pulling your gun out, stance ready and prepared.
Throwing the doors open, your gun entered first, held out in front of you as you barely peeked your head through the entrance. You took note of the rusted chains and pulley systems hanging from the ceiling, your vision filled with various industrial shelves and boxes. You also noted the window panels at the top of the walls, a few cracked open to let a hint of air in.
The entire warehouse perimeter was lined with a mezzanine system, grated floors with guard railings above the ground floor.
Passing by many boxes, you finally found Mr Charles in the middle of the warehouse, sitting on a dusty wooden crate and a manila file sitting right beside him. He was eating a dry granola bar, one that broke into a million pieces when it was bitten into. Two of his men stood behind him, a gun held by each of them.
You kept your gun pointed at him before he took notice of you.
“Ah, there you are.” Mr. Charles muffled through his mouth full of granola.
With a shake of your head, you holstered your gun back and closed the distance. You took a seat on another wooden shipping box, conveniently positioned across from him, making you believe he probably ordered his men place the box deliberately to make this meeting more legitimate.
“So, how’ve you been?” He smiled after finishing his late bite.
To most, he was charming and obnoxious, which was certainly true. He looked disarming, but you knew better and there was always something behind that cheeky smile of his.
“Fine.” You answered simply.
Mr. Charles dusted off the granola crumbs from his lap and hands.
“I suppose we can cut to the chase. Now that Fisk has been dealt with, your contract with us has ended. But luckily for you, there's another position that we want you to fill. And for me, personally, I want you to continue working with us.”
You were somewhat intrigued. “What’s the job?”
“Well, before we get into that, there’s something I wanted to ask you. There's someone that I want to bring on board that I think would fit right in with the organization. And I wanted to run it by you for your opinion.”
He passed you the folder, except when you open it, Dex's photo greets you.
You tried not to shift anything in your face, not wanting to display your emotions on your sleeve as your mind began to race. Every single document that Mr. Charles could get his hands on were all stashed into this file. His time in the army, the FBI, when he was institutionalized and incarcerated — everything for one complete profile.
“Your boyfriend is a prime contender.”
You raised your head, your hands itching for both your gun and Dex’s knife. You were doing everything in your willpower to not lose your composure, trying your hardest to not glare at Mr. Charles.
“Yeah, I've known for a while now,” He laughed gleefully, “You two make a wonderful couple, by the way. Very cute. Fucked up, but still cute.”
“What do you want with him?” You snapped the folder close before tossing it beside you. You felt every part of your body tense up, muscles pulled taut with apprehension.
Every part of your instincts wanted to protect Dex, and knowing that Mr. Charles had been keeping tabs on him made you want to create a canyon between them, putting as much distance between them as possible.
“I was thinking his skillset would fit in with what we do around here. And if I did my research, he needs something to keep himself busy. It's a simple transaction, really. He gets a job, and we get our contracts fulfilled.”
You were absolutely cynical, and for good reason. You know that Dex had been manipulated in the past and you weren’t going to let that cycle repeat again. Not on your watch.
“Hear me out, okay? I have a proposition that I think you'll like.” He proposed. “I have a new contract that includes you and Dex together. If he works for us and you resign, then you’ll be hired and treated as a duo instead of two separate operatives. Whenever there’s an assignment, we run it by both of you. You get to work together and get a say before you take on missions, so you get to ensure that everything suits your needs and his."
You had your guard up, not even remotely taking the bait. Despite how good the offer sounded, you needed time to consider all your options and think of all the ways this could backfire, especially if this was involving Dex.
“Oh, I almost forgot but on top of that, you two get bonuses depending on how many hits you complete. But we can talk about that more later. I think this is a beneficial move for all of us.”
You scoffed, shaking your head.
“What do you think, Dex?” He yelled, his voice echoing off the worn down warehouse walls.
It settled into a few beats of silence. Mr. Charles grinned in anticipation as you glared daggers, or rather knives, at him.
Speaking of knives, a whirl of two blades bounced off the ground and walls, whizzing by the guards’ heads and nicking the very edge of Mr. Charles’ lightweight vest.
The blades landed with a thunk, landing into the crate he sat on and barely grazing his blue jeans, which were dangerously close to his knees.
Dex kept his promise. He didn’t kill him or stab his knees.
But the guards on the other hand.. You didn’t say he couldn’t kill them.
Mr. Charles’ men barely had a chance to react, just aiming their guns towards the windows before two more knives ricocheted off the walls and the edges of industrial shelves.
The blades flew through the air, lodging dead center into the back of their heads. They instantly fell and slumped to the floor, guns clattering beside them.
It wasn’t long before the sound of heavy boots panged against metal flooring, making you and Mr. Charles cast your eyes up.
Dex had leapt through the open window above, standing on the mezzanine level. He looked down at the meeting below, slowly walking towards the set of stairs leading to the ground floor, the sound of his steps reverberating throughout the warehouse.
He sauntered in with a glint in his irises, eyes peeking through his balaclava as his hands hovering near his belt, ready at a moment’s notice to grab a blade.
Mr. Charles glanced behind him with a sigh. He stared at his men with disappointment as if their deaths were an inconvenience rather than a loss.
“Well, nice of you to join us, Dex. You can ease up on the knives, my guy. We’re just here to have a talk about what your futures may entail.”
Dex stood beside you in a defensive stance, acting like he was your guard dog.
“Wow, you two are even cuter together in person.” Mr. Charles chuckled.
Dex squinted his eyes at him.
“Y’know, I’m offering a lot here. You may be well connected with other contacts, but I can imagine that they’re not going to be as… accommodating as I am. With them, you and Dex would have your own individual missions… Meaning you’d be separated…”
You glanced over at Dex, noting the blank stare on his face. The expression was miniscule, but you could see the tiniest of a furrow in his eyebrows.
With a quiet sigh, you slowly stood up from your makeshift seat, throwing Mr. Charles a scowl before you took Dex’s hand in yours.
You dragged Dex away, out of earshot from Mr. Charles as Dex tugged his mask off, tucking it into his belt.
You could tell the gears were turning in Dex’s head, mulling over every detail Mr. Charles gave.
“I don’t know what he has in store, but all I know for sure is that he’s desperate to have us on board.” You huffed.
“...We’d be separated?” Dex was taken aback.
You chewed the inside of your cheek, frustration beginning to run through your veins. You hated this.
It was like you were cemented in place, stuck in this predicament with no way out as the guilt began to eat away at you.
If you worked with your previous contacts, you would be working long periods of time away from Dex. And what’s worse is that if he signed on with them, you couldn’t guarantee that you could look out for him.
Then with Mr. Charles and technically the CIA, despite the stipulations of having you and Dex work together, you were still deeply concerned about what he might do to him. With all the moves Mr. Charles had been pulling behind the scenes, whether it was during Fisk’s mayoral term or the rumors of blackmailing enhanced individuals to work with him, you couldn’t fully trust him.
Either way, you were afraid that these organizations were going to use Dex and his skills, then toss him to the curb again.
It was a rock and a hard place.
You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn't formulate the words.
The seconds stretched on as Dex stewed in his thoughts. You watched a million waves of emotion roll through his eyes, minute changes of cold and hardened stares, to slightly softened looks with vulnerability hiding beneath.
A flash of fear washed over him, letting Mr. Charles’ words sink in and get to him. This was one of the very few times you saw Dex start to panic, eyes beginning to widen with uncertainty, the thought of being left behind while you did contract kills alone creeping into his mind.
Dex being quiet wasn’t unusual, not in the slightest, but the longer he stood there looking like he was being overwhelmed with dread, the more concerned you became.
You reached for his glove-covered hand, squeezing his palm to ground him and pulling him out of the swarm of his mind.
“Dex?”
He tried to carefully take in a deep breath, but when he exhaled, you could hear the slight shake as he blew out the air in his lungs.
“I can work for him.” There wasn’t a hint of a tone in his voice.
Dex might have agreed to accept the offer, but the look in his eyes told you otherwise. His eyes were distant, looking past you over your shoulder, disassociating from the words that escaped his lips.
You shook your head, “Wait, no— Sure he’s rolling the ball into our court… But you don’t have to do this.”
Quickly glancing over at Mr. Charles, you noted how he hadn’t moved from his spot as he examined the knives still stuck in the crate below him. His wide and amused smile was still on his face as he appreciated Dex’s knives, barely brushing the pad of his thumb across the blades to test the sharpness of the edges.
You let out a tired sigh, “I don’t want him taking advantage of you.”
Dex’s eyes soften a fraction, smitten that you care. He looks down at his boots, jaw clenched and unclenching before clearing his throat with a shake of his head.
“I don’t have anything else going for me,” He uttered under his breath, “I atoned for what I did by killing Vanessa, Fisk fucked off to who knows where. I have nothing, except you.”
You feel your heart squeeze in your chest.
“It’s all I know and it’s what I’m best at. And with you there, it makes it worth it.” Dex croaked as he held your arms with his glove-covered hands, squeezing hard, not enough to hurt you, but it was uncomfortable and began to ache. The tension in his grip matched the desperation that was festering in his dark eyes.
“I need this. I need you.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. Your hand drifted towards the blade Dex gave you, running your fingers along the handle. It’s a part of you now, at the hip like how Dex had latched onto you.
You’re in too deep.
You can’t bring it within yourself to argue against him, letting his crestfallen face and strained voice pull at your heartstrings.
And I need you.
Images of you eating breakfast, gearing up for an assignment or doing nightly reconnaissance alone paled in comparison now that he was here.
Dex integrating himself into your life somehow patched up an invisible rip that you didn’t know needed fixing. And now you’re getting too used to the idea of being by each other’s sides. With every second that passed, whether it was at his apartment, your place, or a windy rooftop with your rifle on assignment, the more difficult it was to imagine days and nights without him.
He’s ruined your life in the best and the worst of ways, and now you want him by your side, always.
Your eyes flickered over his features, from his messy hair resting against his forehead, the slope of his nose, the scar on his cheek, and those hazel eyes that glowed in the sun and darkened when he let his thoughts swarm wildly in his head.
It was your turn to commit Dex to memory, burning his face into your mind and remembering the way he clung onto your arms, his hands slightly shaking as his grip tightened even further.
“Okay,” You whispered, “Let’s do this together.”
It was like weight was lifted off his shoulders, your confirmation temporarily putting his anxieties at ease. His grasp loosened as he sighed in relief.
Dex leisurely trailed his hand up your arm, grazing your shoulder and neck before he hooked his finger under your chin, surprisingly gentle with his touch. You could feel the heat of his skin radiate through his glove as his thumb gently tapped the middle of your chin.
Dex tried to smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, the desperation and fear still lingering near the edges of his irises. But again, he powered through it, trying to relieve the tension in the air.
“If he does anything that I don’t like, I’ll just kill him.”
You laughed under your breath in disbelief. “I second that.”
Dex’s palms moved to the sides of your neck, his thumb gently pressing against your pulse point, feeling your heartbeat under his touch. Closing his eyes, he slowly leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyelids gently flutter close as you reveled in the feeling of Dex’s touch.
Reaching up, you softly grasped his wrist. You felt Dex’s heartbeat under the pad of your thumb, beating erratically with the stress still wound up in his mind and body.
As Dex pressed firmer into your pulse point, you realized that he was trying to calm himself down by feeling your heartbeat, anchoring himself to you by matching your pulse. You delicately caressed your thumb back and forth across his wrist, trying to soothe him as the two of you stood in a lulling silence, letting Dex focus on your heart.
Eventually, Dex’s heart rate began to settle, slowing down to the point where it almost matched yours.
With heartbeats in sync, you and Dex had sealed your fates, locking you into a path where your personal lives and work were intertwined. Wherever this decision took you, it was going to be a new step for the both of you, treading somewhere familiar yet new considering you never worked together in an official capacity before.
It felt a bit strange, like you were commemorating something special — your own type of milestone.
Rather than celebrating a new chapter together, like moving in or celebrating an anniversary, it was the start of a professional partnership, one filled with new contract kills for you and Dex to fulfill.
Like what normal couples do, obviously.
Suddenly, a voice interrupted the moment, cutting through the tension in the air.
“So what’s it going to be lovebirds?” Mr. Charles called down.
You pull apart, a look of content was on Dex’s face. He didn’t bother to give Mr. Charles any acknowledgement as he was too focused on your features, his eyes tracing your face.
“We’ll do it.” You confirmed.
“Great! Gather your essentials and tomorrow we will be taking a flight to Madripoor where you and Dex will mainly base your operations from. When we get there, I’ll give you some assignments you can choose from.”
Plucking Dex's knives out of the create, Mr. Charles held them in his hands before strolling towards the both of you. With a quick flip with his fingers, he faced the handles towards Dex, passing them back to their rightful owner.
Dex eyed him cautiously, glancing at his face then down at his knives before taking them. He flipped them in his hands with precision, smoothly placing them back in their sheaths in one glide.
“Pleasure doing business with you two.” Mr. Charles acknowledged, snatching up Dex’s file before strolling away.
You and Dex carefully observed him leave, opting to exit through a set of doors tucked away behind a pile of boxes nearing the opposite side of the warehouse.
Dex tilted his head toward the entrance you accessed earlier, aching to escape the metallic and rusty box that was starting to feel like it was suffocating and confining him.
He led the way with quick strides as you followed right behind him, but you halted to a stop when Dex held his arm out. Grabbing the handle, Dex opened the door a crack, taking a peek outside through the sliver of light. With a swift nod, he held the door open and took a quick scan of the area, no sign of Mr. Charles around.
Dialing back his vigilance a smidge, Dex finally took a deep breath, expelling all the dust in his system and welcoming in a breath of sea air.
As the doors closed behind you, the gravity of the situation finally dawned on you — you and Dex would be leaving tomorrow, meaning you would be leaving everything behind.
The sunlight shimmered off the side of a tall office building, catching your eye. With languid steps, you walked to the edge of the harbour, eyes looking past the river port to scan the city in the horizon.
You were never in one place too long, always bouncing between countries and cities before you could develop any attachment. But this time around, you felt a small pang of what you could only describe as grief. You couldn’t wrap your head around why you were feeling this way.
A cargo ship on the horizon began to let out smoke from its exhaust funnel, heading towards the ocean.
The longer you thought about it, the more you realized it wasn’t the city or the apartments you were going to miss, but what it gave you, which was a sense of domesticity amidst the violence and weapons you and Dex carried with you.
You created memories with Dex here, ones that you’ll store away in your mind and take with you wherever you went. But a part of you was going to miss the quiet moments, especially the mornings where you leisurely took your time, having meals with Dex and forgetting, even just for a little bit, that you weren’t an assassin for hire.
You sensed Dex in your periphery, standing right beside you and letting his shoulder gently graze against yours. Slowly, you felt Dex’s fingers wrap around yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.
As you turned your head to look at Dex, you realized he wasn’t even looking at the cityscape ahead, but rather staring at you, his hazel eyes softening at you as if you were his entire world. The sea breeze glided past you and Dex, ruffling his hair and causing a few strands to fall over his forehead.
No, you didn’t have the time to let yourself steep in your grief. You had Madripoor to look forward to, where you were going to continue sharing moments with Dex, searching for a piece of domesticity among the criminal safe haven like a diamond in the rough.
Your apartments and even New York itself weren’t really your home. And for Dex, a sense of security came as quick as it went, never truly having a place that made him feel sound.
As you stared back at Dex with a small yet bittersweet smile on your face, you realized that in this moment, standing next to each other as a cargo ship floats off into the distance to leave the city, it might just be the closest thing you’ll get to feeling right at home.
