𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖔𝖑𝖑 𝕳𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊

Just a bunch of cute dolls who are sick in the mind😈 Diamond 💎, 24 ♑️

[diamondthedoll]

𝕯𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

B u l l s e y e (Benjamin Poindexter)

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔦𝔫 ℭ𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔢

Ｐａｒｔ Ｏｎｅ

Ｐａｒｔ Ｔｗｏ

Ｐａｒｔ Ｔｈｒｅｅ

Ｐａｒｔ Ｆｏｕｒ: L o a d i n g…

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔫

MoodBoard

Ｐａｒｔ Ｏｎｅ

Ｐａｒｔ Ｔｗｏ

Ｏｎｅ Ｓｈｏｔｓ: L o a d i n g…

T h e V i g i l a n t e (Adrian Chase)

C o m i n g S o o n

[diamondthedoll]

I should also say…ima bih that grew  up in the projects/trailer parks that liked white boys like this 🤤 …my bad 😬 so do not be alarmed

[filmlover290]

Two bad bitches at the same damn time!!!!

[diamondthedoll]

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝕮𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊

Summary: Hell's Kitchen has changed. Fisk is Mayor, Daredevil is breathing down your neck, and your ex-lover Dex Poindexter is serving time in prison. At least, he was. When Dex escapes and the two of you are forced on the run together, old feelings refuse to stay buried. The problem? Some flames don't reignite. They explode.

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, Violence, blood, injuries, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional distress, mental health struggles, romantic conflict, and strong language.

Part1️⃣ | Part2️⃣

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Part 3️⃣

The car came to a stop, about an hour outside of the city limits. Once he was sure that there was no one following, he parked on the side of the road. You looked over at him with a look of confusion and annoyance.

The adrenaline had died down and the pain in your arm was more intense. Like you had burned yourself with a hot rod. You pulled away a couple of times to ensure you weren’t still bleeding and you weren’t. Luckily because the bullet grazed you, it cauterized the wound.

“What are you doing?” You huffed out.

“I need to check and clean your wound,” he muttered stepping out.

“I’m fine. We shouldn’t waste any time.” You said with a wince.

“It’s going to get infected.” Was all he said before reaching in the back seat. It seemed like he had his own first aid kit, grabbing it from his own bag in the car. You huffed, looking down at the sleeping cat by your feet.

Dex walked around to the side of the car, holding a flash light and water in one hand and bandages on the other. He opened the door, reaching inside in which you flinched.

You could’ve swore you saw him look hurt. “I’m not going to hurt you, angel face.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You snapped angrily. “I can patch myself up.” You reached for the supplies but he pulled back.

“Let me help you.” He begged. “The position where you were shot, it’s not going to be easy.”

You went silent. Accepting defeat, you lifted your shirt, pulling your arm though and wincing. You turned your body to the side, feet dangling outside. He touched you finally. The feeling of his skin touching yours made you silently spiral. So to ground yourself, you spoke.

“So. What’s the plan?” You asked. He didn’t answer right away. “You do have a plan, right?”

“I…don’t.”

You laughed shaking your head. “Are you deadass?” You asked him. “I’m in this shit because of you.” You grumbled. You winced as he poured water on the wound in attempt to clean it.

“Not…exactly.” He muttered, eyes fixiated on your injury. “Well yeah. To a certain extent. But not in the way you think.”

You laughed but not out of finding anything funny. “Enlighten me.” You said. He sighed before pulling away.

“They were coming for you whether I stayed in prison or not.” He answered. He grabbed the bandages before starting to wrap. “That’s why I escaped.”

You blinked a few times. “Look. I know you hate me but I needed to make sure you were safe. I need you safe.” He finished.

You scoffed. “Are you really trying to convince me that you broke out of a federal prison, because you needed me…safe?” You asked him.

“You hate me. I know. But…”

“What gave you that impression?” You interrupted him,, sarcasm dripping off of your voice like venom.

“But you're the only person that I trust.” He finished. You stared at him before shaking your head, disappointed.

“Well that sucks because I don’t trust you.” You bluntly said. “I do not trust you, Benjamin.” You repeated. He was done wrapping you before stepping back.

“We still have a few more hours until we get to the cabin.” His voice cracked. You almost felt bad. Almost. But then the memories of you balled up in your bed, crying over this man flooded your judgment.

So you just turned your body into the car and slammed the door shut.

][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

When you guys pulled up to the cabin, you were not surprised that the lawn care looked horrible. Tall grass, and overgrown weeds welcomed them. He parked the car before turning to look at her. “I’m going to the 24/7 corner store out in town. Pick up some groceries and all that.” He told her.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No. But we need food. And supplies.” He answered honestly. “I take out the security cameras. Hav a disguise. I’ll be good.” He shrugged.

“Fine.” You mumbled picking up the cat. You guys unloaded what you had before you got inside. Nothing had changed. A bit dusty, the cabin settling.

Memories started to flood your thoughts of your time together, here at this place. “You can take the bedroom. I’ll take the pullout.” He said. You nodded. The only hung you wanted to do was take a shower and get some sleep. Or lay down considering you’d probably won’t get any sleep. It was two o’clock in the morning, and you were wide awake.

“Do you need anything?” He asked her.

“No. I’m straight.”

He didn’t believe that. If there was one thing he could appreciate was that you hadn’t changed. Appearance, maybe. You hair was longer. You weren’t as toned as you used to be when you were an agent. Your eyes looked more tired but it made sense.

Personality, it was still you. And despite the fact that you hated him, it was comforting. Maybe because he thought that he would never see you again. When he heard that judge say eleven life sentences, he looked stoical. The judge commenting about how he didn’t care about anything. His blatant disregard of life and disrespect to those he caused harm to. But that wasn’t true.

He thought about you.

“I’m going to go set up the generator. Then I’m heading out.”

You just walked away. You were familiar with the cabin, even if it was dark. He sighed. He properly made sure all doors and windows were locked.

At the store, he grabbed things that he thought that the both of you guys may want or needed. Different foods, feminine products, medicine, even cat food. He wanted to get everything that was needed so that he didn’t have to show his face in the town.

He got gas, even filling up a gas canister for the lawn mower. Maybe to pass the time, he can do some yard work.

He drove back to the house, stepping out. He carried everything into the house. He unloaded the groceries, even did a little bit of cleaning. Then he realized he was hungry. “(Y/N)?” He walked down the hall, knocking on the door.

“What?”

“I’m going to make us something to eat.” He answered.

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I have antibiotics. And you can’t take them on an empty stomach.” He clarified. It went silent before he heard shuffling behind the door. It opened, there you stood in a large FBI t-shirt, your hair tied up in a yellow scarf.

Dex cleared his throat avoiding eye contact. “I was just gonna make grilled cheese and tomato soup. Nothing too much.”

You were going to deny but your stomach growled, exposing how hungry you actually were. “I’ll make extra.” Before you could deny his advances, he left. You closed your eyes and shut the door. You went into your duffle bag, grabbing the burner phone. Just some cheap flip phone you used in emergencies only. You went to the contacts, finding Matt’s number. After a few rings, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Matt. It’s me.” You whispered to him.

“What the hell happened!?” He whispered yell. “I can’t talk for long.” You said.

“Where the hell are you two? The entire city is shut down.”

“I can’t tell you. But the task force wasn’t there to arrest me,” you started. “They were coming to kill me. Fisk knows that I know about what he did to the FBI agents.” You told him shakily. You heard him sigh.

“And you’re with him.”

He wasn’t asking a question, it was a statement. “I am trying to make a plan. With me here, I can make sure he doesn’t kill anyone else.” You paced the room.

“Are you safe?” You closed your eyes, scratching your forhead. “(Y/N).”

“I am. I know he won’t do anything. Just… I need to plan this out.” You sighed. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“(Y/N).”

You hang the phone up and tossed it on the bed. You sat down on the bed, blinking at the wall. She could hear him in the kitchen, pots and pans clinging against each other.

You just sat there. Mind spiraling, just trying to get a grip of what happened. You hadn’t realized how long you were spaced out until their was a knock on the door. “The food is ready.” You waited until you heard his footsteps away from the door before you got up. You walked out, the smell hitting your senses. You walked out to see that he had already made you a plate and a bowl of tomato soup.

As you sat down, he put two bottles in front of you. “Thanks.” You mumbled. He sat across from you as you grabbed a sandwich. You ripped a piece off, eating it.

“You said that you escaped because they were going to kill me. How’d you know that?” You asked him.

“Got the hint when some idiots tried to attack me.” He answered nonchalantly. Your eyebrows raised, confused and in shock.

“How if you were in maximum security?”

“I wasn’t. They put me in general population.” He answered, blowing on his soup. You tilted your head to the side, squinting your eyes. “What?” He asked.

“I didn’t say anything.” You responded eating your soup.

“You have that look in your eyes when you’re piecing something together.” He gestured towards her with the spoon.

“We both knew about how Fisk was corrupting the district.” You muttered, playing with the soup. “You should’ve been put in max.” You said sitting back into your seat.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He chuckled.

“I’m serious, Benjamin.” You scoffed. His jaw clenched at his government name being used. “Fisk had something to do with that.” You leaned forward, tapping your index finger on the table.

He sighs before leaning back himself. “I know this.”

“We can use that as a leverage.” You attempted to persuade him.

“No.”

She blinked at him a few times. “What?”

“You’re safety is my priority right now. Not trying to play some hero to get back at him.” He said flatly.

“So what? We’re going to be stuck her until we die?” You asked.

“I’ll handle it.” He shrugged.

“Handle it how? You’re a fugitive.”

“You are too.” He chuckled making you roll her eyes. “Hell’s Kitchen isn’t safe for you, (Y/N). You’re a walking target. I barely…barely got to you.” He responded to you.

“Okay.” You chuckled scratching your forehead. “So what is the plan?”

“To hold you here.” He said like it was the obvious thing.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re safest with me.” He finally looked at you. “Stay here. I’ll handle Fisk.”

“Okay… how long will I have to stay here, Benjamin?” You asked him. His silence seemed to piss you off. “Benjamin!”

“I don‘t know!” He exclaimed in frustration. “Fisk is mayor and has more power than necessary.”

You glared at him. “So….if I try to leave…”

“I’ll stop you.” He finished. Your eye twitched in anger.

“So you’re fucking kidnapping me?” You growled out.

“No. I’m not kidnapping you.” He groaned out. “If I try to leave you said you’ll stop me. That’s literally kidnapping.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, angel face. I’m trying…” he started but you interrupted him.

“Don’t call me that!” You yelled at him.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “It’s out of habit.”

“Habit my ass. It’s been two fucking years since you fucked me over, Benjamin.” You yelled standing up.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes again. “Let me just… Im trying…” he was starting to spiral. The idea of you yelling at him, his North Star, the love of his life hating his existence made him sick.

“No Benjamin! You don’t fucking get it! I want my old life back! My career, my life was uprooted because of this. I don’t want to be stuck in this fucking cabin, on the run with you of all people.” You felt tears brimming at the edge of your lids.

“(Y/N).”

“I begged you! I fought you because I knew this was going to happen! And now you’re going to hold me here against my will!?” You exclaimed.

“(Y/N). You’re being irrational. You were almost killed. You were shot. They want you dead.” He begged her. “If they manage to kill you, there is absolutely nothing stopping me from burning Hell’s Kitchn to the ground.”

You saw that look in his eye. He was starting to spiral. You looked over at the door.

The locks.

You went to the door, messing with the locks. “I know you, (Y/N). I know you’ll try to escape…” he whispered.

“Benjamin.” You said his name low. “Let.Me.Go.” You scowled at him. He shook his head. “I can’t.”

You stood in front of him at the table. Without second guessing, you grabbed the plastic bowl that had tomato soup and threw it at him.

What pissed you off more was that he didn’t read to it. Just sat there with the luke warm soup dripping from his face and onto his white tank top. “You piece of fucking shit.” You snapped making your way to the room. You searched your duffle bag, and just as you thought… he somehow managed to take your gun.

Meanwhile, Dex stood up starting to clean up the mess. “Don’t lick that. That can’t be good for you.” He pushed the cat away, who licked at the tomato soup.

][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Pancakes, turkey sausage and scrambled eggs with cheese. Your favorite breakfast meal. The medicine sat on the counter, a note beside it.

Take the medicine please, Dex

You were growing even more pissed. How dare he be intentive and caring when he has you kidnapped? You heard what sound like a weed whacker gearing up. You looked outside the window to see him shirtless, sweaty, and fucking huge, doing lawn work. Your eye twitched in rage.

You couldn’t even properly curse him out, considering you were locked inside.

So you just glared at him. Watched him from the window. What was called the great prison bulk, his body was definitely different in all the right ways. You even caught yourself looking at his ass. Lost in the sight of him, you hadn’t realized how bad you were looking until he had turned around. His chest and abs now were in your line of vision before your eyes met his. You rolled your eyes before leaving the window to fix your plate and take the medicine.

But Dex knew that look in your eye. It didn’t matter how long you guys were separated. His ole lady was checking him out.

He chuckled to himself at the thought before continuing. He was going to wait until you were almost done eating so no other food was wasted being thrown at him. And he also knew that he deserved it. Holding you ‘hostage’ was the only way he could keep you safe.

Until he managed to kill Fisk himself.

After he was sure you were finished, he came back inside, using the keys to properly lock the cabin up. “I fed the cat. So you don’t have to worry about him.” He said. You rolled your eyes, taking the medicine. “What is his name by the way?” He asked looking at the cat who laid on the couch.

“The cat.” You muttered.

“I know you’re upset but the least you can do is tell me his name.”

“I just said the cat. I didn’t name him because I didn’t want to get attached to him.” You annoyingly state. Dex stared between the two of you before nodding.

“Well that worked.” He chuckled. The sound of him laughing made you turn your head.

“Fuck you, Benjamin.” You went to stomp your way to the back room but he stopped you, grabbing the hem of your shirt. You turned around quickly, swatting his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I need to change your bandages and clean it.” He told her. She knew he was right. So she just huffed. After washing his hands and getting the supplies, he went to get started. Your back was leaning against the counter. Just to piss you off (simply because he thought you were sexy so angry), he lifted you onto the counter.

“Benjamin, what the fuck did I tell you?” You snapped at him. He ignored you, grabbing your hand to start. “If you do that shit again, I’m beating your ass.”

That made him grin wickedly. He would take anything at this point just to let you touch him. “It’s not fucking funny. You’re desdass pissing me off.”

“Then talk to me mamas. What am I doing hm?” He asked, stopping to look at her.. “Because I’ve been doing absolutely nothing wrong. I’ve cooked for you. I’m helping you stay alive and healthy. I killed officers for you. And what do I get? A fucking bowl of tomato soup thrown at me?” He asked her.

“You’re lucky it was just that, dickhead! You’ve kidnapped me and instead of figuring out a way to get back, you’re outside doing lawn work like a fucking surbaban dad!” You yelled into his face.

“Watch your tone when you talk to me.” He warned her.

“Fuck you, bitch!” You snapped. Dex couldn’t stop himself when he grabbed your jaw, making you look at him. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt. But hard enough to catch you off guard.

“I’m really trying my best here so why the fuck, no look at me when I’m talking to you.” He grabbed your jaw tighter as you fight the urge to look at him. “Why the fuck won’t you just let me do what I know is best for you?” He asked looking into her soul.

“You have no idea what’s best for me.” You whimpered.

Christ what is wrong with you. This should not be so hot. You blame it on it being because he’s shirtless and this is the first time of being touched by a man in years.

“I do. And if I have to fight you every day to prevent you from leaving and getting yourself killed then so fucking be it.” He whispered the last part.

“I will make you touch every fucking wall in this goddamn cabin, Benjamin,” you clap backed. He grinned at the thought of it. It shouldn’t turn him on. No, this was bad.

“Yeah okay.”

He finished bandaging you up before cleaning up. You hopped down, looking at one of the glass mugs on the kitchen table. You picked it up before glaring at it than at him.

“(Y/N), don’t!” It was too late. The mug was thrown across the kitchen. He ducked before it could hit him. He crossed the kitchen in two steps before you could grab another thing to assault him with. He grabbed you by the neck, wrapped his other hand around your waist. He put you on your back before grabbing your hands and putting them above your head.

You attempted to wiggle your way out of his grasp but he wasn’t letting up. “Stop fucking moving and chill the hell out!” He growled out. You were causing more pain to your arm, so you eventually gave up. Your breathing calmed. Your chest heaved up and down.

Then another idea popped up in your head. If violence couldn’t get you what you wanted, than maybe lust can.

You made sure to look at him dead in his eyes, before your eyes traced down to his chest and abs. Then to the zipper of his jeans. You wrapped a leg around his waist, bucking upward where he was, making sure to grind yourself against him. You couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t feel good. The friction and the only fabric you had that were your panties made you moan lightly.

“Fuck, no!” He stepped away before laughing to himself. “I know what this is, you’re not fucking slick.” He pointed at you. You sat up jumping off the table.

“Fuck you.”

You left to go to the room but what he said next made you actually want to go through with it.

“I’ve been thinking about you for the last two years. If you offer yourself up to me like that again, I will fuck you absolutely stupid.”

[diamondthedoll]

Oh…I’ve seen that a lot of people discovered my page. I’d you didn’t know, FUCK Donald Trump, FUCK ICE, and FUCK you too if you’re okay with that shiit. Been a woke bitch never been sleep hoe

[diamondthedoll]

I have a type…I’m so disgusted with myself🫠 (I’m not… I’m right where I wanna be🤪

[diamondthedoll]

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝕮𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊

Summary: Hell's Kitchen has changed. Fisk is Mayor, Daredevil is breathing down your neck, and your ex-lover Dex Poindexter is serving time in prison. At least, he was. When Dex escapes and the two of you are forced on the run together, old feelings refuse to stay buried. The problem? Some flames don't reignite. They explode.

Warnings: Violence, blood, injuries, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional distress, mental health struggles, romantic conflict, and strong language.

Part1️⃣| Part3️⃣

][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Part2️⃣

Dex stared through the window across the street.

He flipped a coin between his fingers, his jaw clenching in frustration at the idea, the mere thought of being so close to you but so far.

So he did what he did best. Followed you for your protection. Making sure you weren't being followed by anyone that associated themselves with Fisk for your own safety.

He knew you were smart. You covered your tracks with ease. But he was going the extra mile to ensure your safety wasn't compromised. Killing that man at the diner was a safety perimeter he told himself.

Even if he hadn't had a clue in the world where you could be, he didn't take the chance of letting him get the clue.

So, Dex continued to stay on the reins and silence of the darkness.

Protecting. Watching. Whenever he could.

He would make his way back to the shitty apartment that was across the street from yours. He could see your movements without being seen because of the low lighting in his own apartment. Empty. The only thing that he had was a bed, curtains so that he wasn't seen, and a room full of his own personal arsenal. If he ate he usually bought as he needed. With cash obviously.

Tonight, was nothing different. He made himself a simple dinner. Salmon, rice, broccoli. Ate it on paper plates so that he didn't have that much of a mess to clean. He sat in front of the window still looking. At you. You seemed to have the same routine as him.

Get home. Wash up. Cook. Read. And the cycle repeated. Sometimes he would catch you exercising or doing some yoga. Some he might even catch you in your own bed doing your own self pleasure. He felt sick with himself watching, but it wasn't like he never seen it before. You and all your beauty.

Tonight was the same. You sat eating while reading a book, flipping through the pages. Some might have seen this as boring but no. To him this was the highlight of his day. After not being able to see you for two years, scared that he might actually have to live his entire life without ever seeing you again...if this was as close as he was going to get to you then so be it.

Sometimes, he would go back to the day he first met you...

It was his first day at the Hell's Kitchen prisent. He was nervous. His therapist told him that he should be able to get a job that kept him stable. Kept his mind busy. His hands tied. With his years and service in the military, proper training, and the hours he suffered to get here, he finally made it.

"And showing you around will be, Agent (Y/L/N)." Hattley introduced you two. You were interesting to look at.

Beautiful brown skin. Braids in a ponytail that looked freshly done. No makeup, showing off that natural glow that you had about you. Full lips and a body that showed more than anything that you were one of the best hand on hand combat agents Hattley bragged about.

"Agent Benjamin Poindexter. I've heard alot about you. Finally nice to put a face to a name." You reached your hand out for him to shake it. He grabbed it with a firm grip. "You can just call me (Y/N). No need to be formal if we're going to be partners." You smiled.

Oh that smile was framed in his mind since that day. Even when he was sitting in his prison cell, he would close his eyes. And just think of that smile.

"Well then Dex is just fine." He shook your hand with a firm grasp. Your soft skin caught him off guard as you slid it back to your own person.

"Alright. We do have a briefing at one today so don't forget." Hattley reminded you.

"Never." You smiled at her. She left the two of you alone before you started to show him around the office. "Like coffee?" You asked him following in the room.

Make a joke. Be likable.

"I think liking coffee comes with the job." He joked as you smiled.

"And this is your first year? You might be just alright." You winked at him. You poured the both of you a cup of coffee.

"So bullseye.." You trailed off before he looked at you in shock. "Don't be all surprise. If you're going to be my new partner I need to do my own research, rookie." She laughed at his facial expression. "Elite Army sniper. Great marksmanship and combat conditioning. Says you never miss." You drink from your mug.

"I don't wanna sound to cocky." He chuckled looking down at his coffee.

"Prove it."

He stared at you for a second before raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Prove it." You repeated with a shrug. You placed your mug on the counter before lifting your shirt. An obvious scar from a bullet wound a few inches to the lift of your belly button. "My last partner wasn't too good. Now he was cocky. And it ended up with on life on the line." You pulled your shirt down.

I would've never let that happened to you.

"I gotta see what I'm working with." You grabbed your cup off coffee again. He looked around the room before noticing the light switch on the wall across the room. A good 20-30 ft inches away from them. A good distance. He looked on the counter to see an empty bottle of water before grabbing the cap.

"I can use this cap, to turn off the light." He held it up as you scoffed.

"Bullshit."

With a flick of his pointer and his wrist, he quickly moved his arm back and then forward. You could hear the cap whistling through the air and within less of a second, the lights were out.

"No. Bullseye." He said in the complete dark.

You stood there shock. You walked across the room to turn on the lights to see damage done to the light switch.

"Well I''ll be damned."

The memory bought a smile to his face. You were so fascinated by something that came so easily from him. Even using it to your advantage. When you didn't want to get out of bed to turn the lights out, you'd pass him a coin and he'd get the hint.

He missed those moments. He found himself chuckling at the memory of you, then the memory had him looking back at the window before it instantly faded.

"Who the fuck is that?"

][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Weeks had passed since you seen the man that called himself ‘daredevil’, and since then you hadn’t had a proper ounce a sleep yet. You were sure that you did everything by the books to get off of the radar. Fake names, social security, off shore accounts, even fake ids. You were comfortable, but not comfortable enough.

Your night routines were the same. Get home after a long day of your own research. You didn’t give up hope on trying to end Fisk. He took everything from you. You were filled with nothing but vengeance, anger, and misplacement.

You’d feed the cat name… well the cat. You thought if you named him, you’d actually have an attachment to the cute fellow. Did some yoga or excercise in the living room of your living room. You took your shower, ate some dinner and settle in for sleep.

This night was different.

You were in the kitchen, cleaning your mess when you heard your window open. You weren’t stupid enough now to not go anywhere about in your apartment without it. Not even the toilet.

No one wasn’t going to catch you slacking.

You moved around the corner in a stealth position, ready and aware to shoot if needed. But DD’s voice was heard. “It’s just me, Agent. Not here to hurt you.”

You sighed, putting the gun down but not letting it go. “There is a door. You do know that, right?” You asked pointing to it. “You’re gonna get your ass shot one of these days.” You rolled your eyes.

“I doubt that.”

“Nothing is impossible.”

There was a silence before you sighed. "Glad to see you got the old get up back." You said pointing to his regular Daredevil costume. “I know you didn’t come here so we can just sit and stare at each other. What is it?”

“You haven’t seen him still?” He asked.

“No. Is that all?”

“He’s closing in on you.” He said with a stillness.

“Who?”

“Dex.” You blinked a few times before running your nose.

“How do you know?”

“There was an attack at a diner near uptown. It was him. Did you know about that?” He asked you.

Of course you heard about it. Well, read about it. You didn’t keep electronics like you used to. In fear that they could be tracked or hacked. You didn’t want to risk it so you did everything the old fashioned way.

It worked.

“Yeah. Read about it in the papers.” You muttered crossing your arms over the chest. “What does that have to do with me? It was just at random. He’s having a…” You stopped for a second. “He’s having an episode,”

“No. It’s not.” He pulled out a piece of paper. He walked towards you before you stepped back. “Arm reach.”

“Sorry.” He handed it to you before you snatched it out of his hand. “Rude.”

“Mind you, you broke into my apartment.” You snapped back at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated himself. You looked down at the paper, a file on a man you had never seen before.

Justin Nickson. 39. AVTF officer.

“Who the hell is this?”

“He’s an old bounty hunter. Good at what he did. He was personally chosen by Fisk to find you two.” He answered. You closed your eyes, mumbling a fuck to yourself. “From what I understand, he didn’t get the chance to find you. Due to…” he trailed off to let the answer settle. You dropped the paper to your side. “He was one of the guys that were killed at the diner.”

You licked the inside of your cheek, looking off to the side. “Look, it’s important that we find him.”

“No it’s not, I need to get the hell out of here.” You snapped angrily. “I’m a sitting duck at this point. If you Dex find me, I know damn well Fisk could to.” You said going to move about to the back room.

"I don't think so. I think Dex gave you more time." He tried to convince you as you chuckled.

"Great. I'll be sure to send him flowers and an edible arrangement as soon as I found out where he is." You rolled your eyes. DD grabbed your arm twisting you around.

"I need your help."

"With?"

"I need you to bring him to me." He asked. With a chartle of a laugh you looked over to the side. "He's closer than we think and I know it won't be long before he comes see you. He obviously loves.."

"No. He doesn't love me. He was obsessed with me." You snapped angrily.

"Obsessed. Love. I don't care." He clapped back. "I want him dead." He snarled at you.

"That makes the both of us. But I'm not risking my life for some guy who's claiming to be daredevil. I don't even know who the fuck you are." You angrily whispered to him. His mouth twitched like he was trying to debate something.

"If I show you something... you can't tell anyone."

"I don't really have friends now-a-days so.." You trailed off. He slowly reached up for his mask before pulling it down. Your eyes widen before you slipped out of his grip. You covered your mouth before stepping back.

"Matt Murdock? What the fuck?" You whispered.

"Yes. I am daredevil."

"Wait. You're going around pretending to be a fucking blind man? That's fucked up man." You looked at him in pure disgust.

"Wait what? No, I'm not faking it. I'm actually blind."

"Man I don't know... I don't know a lot of blind people but you must've forgotten. I've been to alot of your crime scenes back at my time in the bureau and I never seen a blind man do that." You scoffed shaking his head.

"You can look at my medical records for fuck sakes. There are bigger issues here."

"Yeah. Me getting the hell out of dodge. I'm not helping you Mr.Murdock." You went to the back room before opening the closet. You heard him huff before he said,

"(Y/N), I can hear your heartbeat." That made you stop for a second. "Either you're scared or the anticipation of seeing the guy you love might be trying to find you or both. I don't care. But you and I both know that he needs to be put down before he can do anything else to anyone in this city."

"In this city?" You laughed turning to walk towards him. "This city is the reason I was almost killed. This city is the reason why I'm being hunted like a fucking deer. This city actually believes that Mayor Fisks can actually run this shit hole. And my God, I say Mayor with so much sarcasm it almost sounds true. This city can burn to the fucking ground for all I care." You growled at him.

"So then why'd you stay? Why are you trying so hard to get dirt on Fisk?" He asked you walking towards you. "Despite everything that happened you are still loyal. That's what made you the agent you were."

"Oh fuck me!" You laughed hysterically looking around. "And look where the hell I'm at. Being hunted by a blood thirsty mayor, a psychotic ex-boyfriend who broke out of jail, and a blind man who I don't think is actually blind pressing me about finding him. What do you not get? I'm not doing it, Murdock!"

There was a silence before he nodded. He went into his pocket pulling out a card. He placed it on the coffee table. "If you change your mind, that's my offices number."

"I know you're fucking number." You rolled your eyes. And with that he left in the dark of night.

Once you knew you were completely alone, you yelled out a loud, "FUCK!"

][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

You opened up your apartment door, coming from the store to pick up last minute things on your exit from hell's kitchen. Supplies, types of first aid care. You seen that cat waiting outside of the empty bowl before muttering fuck to yourself.

"You're coming with me." You picked up the cat as he purred as you unlocked the door. You placed him on the ground, too much in a hurry to do much else but to finish packing.

You duffle bag was waiting on the couch. Money, clothes, fake Id's and everything else in between. You walked into the kitchen grabbing the box of soft cat food you had bought for him just a few days ago. Way before you knew you had to leave this shit hole.

Distracted. Something you barely were. You heard the cat hiss making you roll your eyes. "I know, I know. But no one else in the building is going to feed you so you have to-"

When you hit the corner to pack it into your bag of cash, you were snatch by the face and pulled into a chest as your mouth was covered. You dropped the can goods on the ground. You were held by your waist and lifted, your eyes shifting in the dark trying to peace together what just happened to you.

"Shh, it's me."

Even if it was a whisper, and more darker than what you were used to, you knew exactly who it belonged to. You hated the comfort and disgust that it brought you. "I'm going to put you down. Do not scream." You closed your eyes and nodded slowly.

He placed you down before you hurriedly turned around and backed away slowly. He had what you assumed to be was the Bullseye costume. His mask covering his face. A gun and multiple knives plastered to his chest. "It's me." He yanked the mask off, showing you your hands.

You breathing was fast and heavy, as you looked him up and down.

He was...different.

He was bigger..way bigger. Shoulders more broad. Chest more wide. His muscles looked as if they expanded to max capacity.

Then it was his face. A scar was underneath his eye. More facial hair than you were ever used to. Even just his demeanor was different. "I...um." He swallowed hard, his hands still out like he was keeping his distance from you. You fist balled up in a fist before the expression of unsettling surprise to unsettling anger was replaced.

He didn't have time to even process your next movements, considering that same thing you did of inspecting his changes. You ran to him, kneeing him in the balls as he doubled over in pain. "Fuck." He grunted as you sent a punch straight to his head, making him hit the back of his head against the wall.

"(Y/N), wait please. Stop." He begged you as you grabbed his hoyster, yanking him to the ground before kicking him in the face. Blood splattered across the wooden floor as he put his hand up for you to stop. "I'm sorry." He choked out. You could almost hear his voice shake like he was going to cry. The noise made you freeze as he groaned, his mouth bleeding and breath hitched.

"Just stop. Please."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You grabbed him by his shirt sitting up. You heard the police sirens and saw the lights coming from the windows.

"They found you." He coughed, spitting out the blood on the ground. "You need to come with me." He said looking up at you. You looked at him before pushing his body back.

You knew if you looked into his eyes longer than that, you were done for. You would listen to everything he had to say and you didn't need that. "Fuck that. I'm not going with you." You grabbed the cat food off of the floor and put it in the duffle bag of cash.

"Shit." You whispered before grabbing the duffle bag and picking up the cat.

"We can go to the cabin. It was never in my name so they can't find you." He said getting off the ground before standing there breathing hard. Blood dripping onto his suit.

"Fuck off, Benjamin!" You snarled at him. You went to the window only to see a helicopter.

It is believed that Benjamin Poindexter and (Y/N) and (Y/L/N) is in the apartment on the fourth floor. They are believed to be armed and dangerous.

You both heard the radio say before you cursed to yourself. "Look what the fuck you did! They followed you hear!"

"No I beat them here. They were already on their way." He defended himself.

No time for arguing, you put the cat down and grabbed your gun from your waistband. "Is there another exit out of here. I have a jeep parked not to far from here and we can get there." He told you.

"I told you Benjamin, I'm not fucking leaving with you."

"Well you either leave without me or you leave dead. They're not coming to arrest you, they're coming to fucking kill you." He snapped at her. She weighed her options before closing her eyes. "You can hate me that's fine. But I need you safe. Please." He begged her.

"Chances are the exits are blocked. The best chance out is if we go across the hall to Mr.Phillips apartment and out of his fire escape. He has a roof covering over his so we won't be seen." You told him.

"Fine. Let's go." He went to grab your hand but you picked up the cat.

"Leave the fucking cat, (Y/N)."

"I'm not leaving the fucking cat. Either he goes or I don't." You snapped angrily at him.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fine!" The two of you ran passed the apartment, opening the door that he always left unlocked.

"Hey! Keisha! What the hell are you doing!?" He yelled. You turned around, shutting and locking the door. Dex pulled out a knife, about to kill the old guy but you stopped him.

"What the fuck, no!?" You whispered yelled at him. You went into the duffle bag and grabbed a stack of money that was $50's and $100's. "These are all yours. Give me a head start. Please Mr.Phillip." You begged him.

"I'm not taking that devil money from you girl."

"You either take the fucking money or you die." Dex said putting a gun to his forehead.

"Mr.Phillip please. I don't want you to do. Just take the money. He will actually kill you." You knew Dex was all but serious about blowing this man's brain out.

"Listen to her, Mr.Phillip." Dex tilted his head to the side, a devious grin on his face.

Mr.Phillip snatched the money out of your hand before you moved throughout the apartment to the hall window where his fire exit was. You pushed the door open, Dex helping you out before you smacked his hand away.

"I got it."

"You're carrying a cat. You don't quote on quote, got it."

"If I drop the cat, at least the little shit can land on all of his legs. Don't fucking touch me." You said hopping onto the platform. You climbed down with him following, mumbling something underneath his breath. You were on the last platform when you heard police officers yell.

"There they are!"

You didn't have enough time to process. The sound of his knives whipping through the air and straight to their necks had already happened. You hopped to the ground first, then Dex. You guys ran through the alley way before you felt a stinging sensation in your arm making you yelp. But you kept ringing, the adrenaline getting the best of you.

After running through the alleys, and away from the loud sirens you guys were at a jeep. It was covered in tarp as he pulled it off opening the doors as you hopped in. "Have you been hit?" He asked turning the ignition on. Blood dropped from your arm, onto the cat who you safely placed on the floor of the jeep.

"I think I was just skimmed but I'm not sure."

He went to turn on the lights. "Don't turn on the lights. Just go." You said throwing the duffle bag in the backseat.

And with that, the two of you sped off into the night of Hell's Kitchen.

[diamondthedoll]

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝕮𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊

Summary: Hell's Kitchen has changed. Fisk is Mayor, Daredevil is breathing down your neck, and your ex-lover Dex Poindexter is serving time in prison. At least, he was. When Dex escapes and the two of you are forced on the run together, old feelings refuse to stay buried. The problem? Some flames don't reignite. They explode.

Warnings: Violence, blood, injuries, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional distress, mental health struggles, romantic conflict, and strong language.

Part2️⃣| Part3️⃣

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Part 1️⃣

23 Months Earlier

You loved New York. The work ethic, the people, the food. That's why you wanted to be put in a position to protect New York, more specifically Hell's Kitchen, from the evil that lurks it at night.

You were one of the best agents that the Hell's Kitchen Branch had to offer. You were a quick thinker, a great fighter, but you also had heart. You wanted to see the good in everyone to give everyone a chance at life.

So when you were offered to take a position with your boyfriend of three years, Benjamin Poindexter, you did it.

Even getting the transfer you wanted to the FBI branch in Hells Kitchen. You were put on the Fisk case, along with other FBI agents.

“Good-morning everyone.” You announced yourself to the team. A mumbles of greetings and everything in between was heard. “Look alive people.” You jokingly said placing the things of coffee on the table.

“Where’s Dex?” You asked. Before anyone could answer, his voice was heard.

“Missed me that much?” He smirked at you grabbing a coffee.

“Who said I grabbed you a coffee?” You said tilting your head to the side.

“Ah. You’re very funny.” He playfully rolled his eyes.

“I need the incident report done by tomorrow, by the way.” You told him leaning on the desk. “Captain been complaining about it. Wants it by Friday.”

He looked at you confused. “If she needs it Friday, why do I have to turn it in to you by tomorrow?”

“Because you’re a procrastinator.” You responded before passing out the other coffees. “Did the convict eat, already?” You asked.

“Yup. Asparagus. Egg. Really good.” Dex answered with a smirk.

“You know one of these days, he’s going to get you for eating off his plate.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Are we good here?” Nadeem asked. “I am tired as hell.” He groaned. Blackened eyes and messy hair proved so.

“Just hand over the shift change sign off. And you’re good. Tell the wife I say hey.” You smiled at him.

“Agent (Y/L/N), the paperwork might be in the surveillance room. While back there we can do the report real quick?” Dex asked you as you nodded.

“See ya later, Nadeem.” You told him. You followed Dex to the security room to see a few agents in there already.

“Shift change already?” One of them asked.

“Don’t sound to surprise.” You winked at them.

“Good luck.” They dismissed themselves. As soon as the door shut, Dex was on you like white on rice. He pushed you into the wall, kissing your face and neck.

“Christ Dex. Can I get settled?” You giggled at the ticklish sensation.

“I’ve been waiting to have a shift with you for days. Give me a minute.” He muttered.

As It was true. You had recently been moved to the morning shift, coming from the night shift. You and Dex barley had seen each other. Actually, this would be the first time being on the same shift since working together on the Fisk’s transportation.

“You’re coming back to my place, right?” He asked pulling away.

“Of course, even packed me spend a night bag.” You answered pulling away.

“So I was thinking… maybe we go out a town this weekend? Up north to an old cabin I have.” He said. He sounded nervous—which you didn’t understand why. “So much shit going on with this asshole,” he looked behind him at the cameras where Fisk sat staring at the wall. It was weird.

u walked over to the desk, glaring at the screen in confusion. “You seen that?” You asked pointing to the camera that was in the make shift living room. Dex stood behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and settling in your neck.

“You’re probably just seeing things, angel face.” He kissed your cheek as you sighed. She placed her hands over his, tracing the top of his hand with her thumb.

“Am I the only one who finds this weird? Like I don’t trust this. At all.”

Your intuition was screaming at you like there was a danger near by. “He’s a convict. Of course you don’t trust him.” Dex snorted. You kissed your teeth before turning to look at him.

“You’re annoying.”

“Eh. You’re still with me though?” He smirked.

“I ask myself why everyday.”

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

“Thank you. Wasn’t sure how you managed to get Agent Poindexter to get it in so quickly.” Your boss and director Hattley said. You chuckled before sitting across from her.

“Eh. He knows not to play with me or my time,” you chuckled crossing your leg over the other. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something.”

“Actually. Yes,” she sighed before sitting down. “The count of the night of the shooting where Dex saved Fisk, his description doesn’t match the forensic evidence.” She stated before your eyes furrowed.

“What?”

“So I need you to do some digging around. You weren’t there so there should be no inconsistencies with what he tells you.” She said pushing over the yellow evidence folder.

“There has to be a mistake. What would Dex possibly have to gain from lying?” You asked her, almost offended that she would accuse him.

Sure, no one knew about you two. Simply because it was against department regulations to date coworkers. So you guys kept it as quiet and undetecable. And it worked. To well.

Now you have to investigate your boyfriend.

“Well it’s up to you. And Agent, you know not to tell him. Right?” She said as she closed her eyes. “Yeah.”

She dismissed you, you walked out of the office and into the security room. Dex was stuffing his face with a burrito bowl.

“There you are. I got you those shrimp tacos that you like.” He said pointing over to the box as you smiled. You looked at him and saw some quac and queso on the sides of his mouth. You chuckled before grabbing a napkin, wiping it off for him.

“My knight in shining armor.”

You sat beside him, looking down at the food. “Hey,” You looked up to see him looking at you. “You okay?” He asked grabbing your hand. You looked up at him, those beautiful eyes meaning more than your thoughts could process.

“What happened? That might? With Fisk?” You asked gesturing towards the security footage.

He stopped chewing for a second. Then swallowed. “We got attacked by that crew. I speculated that it was an attempt to break him free. But after I saw them going to the car to kill him, I had to protect those officers.” He s answers. You looks at him, trying to find any inconsistencies in his face that you knew was a sign he was lying.

His nostrils would flare his nose scrunched up.

His face stayed still. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, baby.” You placed a hand on his cheek.

“It’s nothing. It’s my job.” He shrugged.

“I know, I know.” You shook your head. “When was the last time you talked to your psychiatrist?” You asked as he groaned.

“Really? Right now?” He said looking annoyed. “I’m not going insane just a bunch of fucking people died.” He rolled his eyes

“Don’t be mean. I have every right to worry about you asshole.” You scoffed back at him. “That night was traumatic. I’m just worried about how you are feeling emotionally.”

He sighs before saying, “I’m sorry. I get it. Just…it makes me think you just revert back to my diagnosis.” He said.

“Well Dex, you ar not than just your diagnosis.”

The room went silent before she looked at the screen. Fisk was just pacing the room. “Why’d you ask me that?”

“Because I don’t trust him. I firmly believe that he had something to do with it.” You said it with annoyance. "C'mon Dex. That man is a known manipulator. For all we know this could have been a set up from the start. Nadeem couldn't get any answers out of him for long. Now?" You asked with a tilt of your head.

"Well that's why we are one step ahead. We know his ability. And we know what happens when he gets too much power." He said grabbing her hand.

"Nothing is going to happen."

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

It was Friday evening. You were more than excited to finally spend the weekend away with your boyfriend. Away frome the craziness that gives Hell’s Kitchen it’s name. “Hi angel face.” He smiled walking through the lobby of your apartment building. He kissed your cheek, grabbing the duffle bag from your hand.

“I’m actually so excited.” You said with the brightest smile on your face.

“Me too. I think you’ll like the place.” He said grabbing your hand and walking you out to his truck. He placed the bag in the backseat before helping you into the passenger seat. Not before sneaking a few kisses making you laugh.

You guys drove away from the city, now being surrounded by tree lines and two lane roads. The sun was setting in a beautiful scene in the front of you guys, the both of you having to pull down your shades. You feet were on the dashboard, bobbing your head to his music. You at first thought his music was a bit...weird. Loud. Classic rock. But over time you got used to it.

Rather that than country.

His hands reached over, grabbing yours before bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. You looked over at him and smiled. "You're such a sap."

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "I know of a diner off the route. Can grab something there before we continue. Still have about a few more hours until we're there." He offered up before you shook your head.

"I just wanna get there. Need some alone time." You winked at him. You swore you could feel the car go faster making your burst out laughing.

When you guys pulled up, you were surprised by how small yet cozy it was. Like it was pulled straight from a post card. I t was tucked away in a clearing and wrapped in pines. It wasn't large. But it was something that felt more special. Thick honey colored logs formed the walls, a winding stone pathway curved through the yard, leading to a small covered porch with a pair of rocking chairs.

Wildflowers and flowering bushes surrounded the property. Different colors to brighten up the place.

"You bought this?" You asked turning to look at him to see him already unloading the truck with groceries and their luggage.

"Yeah. It was a bit of a fixer upper. Took some time to fix it." He smiled at her. "Surprise."

"Huh, so this is where you go when you say you need to clear your head." You asked crossing your arms over your chest.

"And it's true." He pointed at her before standing in front of her. "But I really just wanted to make it perfect for you. Just a place we can get away from everything." He smiled at you. You smiled back at him before chuckling.

"It does look lovely." You said. "Lemme help out with the stuff."

The inside was just as beautiful as the outside. The interior was cozy and inviting. A stone fireplace stood at the center of the living room, it's mantle decorated with books, pictures, and a few other decorations.

Soft blankets were draped over a deep sectional couch. A woven rug covered the hardwood floor beneath a rustic coffee table. The open kitchen featured butcher block countertops.

"Holy hell Dex. You did all this?" You asked placing the stuff on the couch and dinner table.

"You like it?" He asked with a bit of hope in his eyes.

"I love it. I don't even want to go back to hell's kitchen." You said. "This is like... heaven's living room." You joked making him laugh. He walked closer to you before grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"I'm glad you like it. I probably was just going to rent it out as an Airbnb whenever we're not using it. Don't know yet. It's still too special to me." He smirked pecking at your lips.

"Well, I wanna shower. Get into something comfortable." You told him.

"I'll unpack. There is a bottle of wine in the cooler for you."

"You know me so well." You chuckled. He left to the back as you grabbed a bottle of wine. You decided to be helpful and put the groceries away. After a few minutes, you were looking through the cabinets when you heard his voice.

"What the hell is this?"

You turned around to see him holding up the yellow folder. You closed your eyes mouthing 'fuck me' to yourself. He threw it on the counter in front of you. "I was going to talk to you about it."

"You're fucking investigating me, (Y/N)? What the fuck?" He glared at you.

"I was told to investigate you about the shooting that happened during Fisk's transportation. The forensic evidence doesn't match the account you said but.."

"Like hell it doesn't." He interrupted you. He grabbed his phone from his pocket before you stopped him.

"Baby wait." You grabbed his hand but he snatched it from you. "You didn't tell me? How long has this been opened for?"

"I just found out about it this week. I'm not allowed to even let you know that this is happening. That's why I waited till we got here so I know for a one hundred percent fact no one was listening in on us." You attempted to explain to him. "Dex, I promise I believe you. That's why I wanted to talk to you and get everything cleared up because I don't trust it. You know I don't. I have been saying that." You pleaded with him.

He closed his eyes, his breathing getting heavier. "Dex. Calm down. Let's just take a shower. Get into something comfortable and.."

"I don't want to fucking calm down!" He yelled out in frustration. "My job is at risk!"

"My job is at risk just because you know!" You yelled back at him. "But I trust you enough to just let me figure it out. You know you can trust me." You grabbed his hand pulling him closer to you. You grabbed his face looking at you.

"Anything you tell me I believe you. But you have to be open to me." You rubbed his thumb.

"Okay." He nodded his head. "Okay, fine."

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

"Poindexter, (Y/L/N), in my office. Now." Tammy Hattley snarled at you two.

The two of you looked at her in confusion. It was almost the end of your shift and you two had plans to just stay in for the night. Order some Chinese take out. Binge watch some cringey 90's horror movies. The regular.

"Alright?"

You walked behind Dex, as the two of you followed her into her office. She slammed the door shut, indicating that she was pissed. You looked over at Dex who was rolling his eyes.

"What is this that I'm hearing that the two of you are dating?"

You swore you felt your heart beat outside of your chest, your nerves getting the best of you. "What the hell?" You asked. She reached behind her desk throwing it on the desk. There were pictures of you and Dex inside his apartment. Making out on the desk. Dancing to some random music. Even some very much exposing pictures.

"Who the fuck took these?" Dex asked angrily. Seeing you exposed like that made you cover your mouth in complete horror and shock.

"It doesn't fucking matter who took them." She snapped angrily. "You know that it's a clear violation of our rules and regulations. Not only that, you.." She pointed at you. "Signed off on a report that Agent Dex lied about the convoy ambush that happened."

"Because Agent Dex wasn't fucking lying." You snapped angrily. "I ran those forensics reports through a third party multiple of times and they all aligned. I don't know what bullshit you've been reading but it's fucked." You pointed at her.

"Of course you'll defend him. You're too busy fucking him!"

"Watch it, Tammy." Dex pointed at her. "I didn't lie about shit." He snapped.

"It doesn't matter now. Agent Poindexter, you are now on investigative leave."

"What!?" You exclaimed looking over at him. "You can't do that, Tammy? What the hell?"

"Are you fucking serious?" Dex asked leaning over.

"I will need you to leave your badge, your gun, and your key card." Tammy said. Dex closed his eyes, his breathing getting heavier. You wanted nothing more than to reach over and touch him and tell him that everything would be okay. But that would be the absolute worse thing.

"You can leave." You went to follow him but she stopped you.

"You. Stay. I have a few fucking words for you."

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Over the next few weeks, everything between you and the love of your life became....angry. Late nights, petty arguments, even the jealousy of him being able to get his job back. However, you weren't.

But one night ended it all.

You sat in your living room, glaring at the television screen in pure horror. Daredevil had attacked the New York Bulletin board. But there was something about the footage that made your blood run cold.

That stance. That smirk. That walk.

"Dex. No. No. No. No." You ran through the apartment grabbing your phone and dialing his number. You put it to your ear, only for it to go straight to voicemail. "Shit." You grabbed your keys and bolted out of your apartment.

You drove to the building, seeing the line of FBI cars heading out to the scene. Using your expertise, you knew he wouldn't be in the lime light. He would be doing everything in his power to be unseen. So you searched through dark alley's, behind gross dumpsters, even in fire escapes.

That's where you found him.

You hopped out of the car, running down the alley way where he was stripping from the suit. "Dex, what the hell are you doing!?" You yelled at him. He saw you, before making a bolt to leave but you were hot on his heels. You jumped on his back, wrapping your arm around his throat before slamming him to the ground along with yourself. "Dex listen to me!"

"Leave (Y/N)!"

The two of you fought like your life depended on it. Dex fought you in a way that he was trying to escape you. You fought him like you were trying to keep him to stay. It was messy, bruising, tiring. But you weren't giving up.

"Dex stop! Let's talk about this!" You exclaimed wrapping your leg around his torso. "You're not okay!" You begged him, eyes watering.

"Nothing is fucking wrong with me!" He yelled back. He managed to get your leg untwisting himself before twisting you on your side making you wince.

"Nothing is wrong with you baby, but you're not okay right now. Let's just go home and-- ow! Dex! Stop!" You yelled as he twisted your arm. You lip was now busted, Dex's eye was bruised with cuts across his face.

"This is who I am, (Y/N). You keep telling me to talk to someone. I don't need it."

"Can you not see you're being used!?" You cried out, finally tears running down your face. "You're not in the right head space. Just please listen to... ahhhh!" His elbow hit you in the face, rolling you on your back as you gasped.

You've gotten worse. You were...or use to be one of the best skilled fighters in the whole precent. But you could taste the blood running down your throat as you rolled over your stomach. Dex shot up on his feet, looking at you in horror... not knowing what to do.

"I swear on my fucking life Benjamin Poindexter.." You said preventing the blood from hitting the ground. "If you choose them over us, I'll never forgive you for this." You gasped out.

He blinked a few times before saying, "This is the only way." He ran off, as you cried harder.

"I fucking hate you Benjamin! I fucking hate you!"

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Two Years Later

The old elevator dinged as it opened. You slowly walked out, tired from the run you had just endeared. Your older neighbor Phillip held his mail in his hand. “Ms. Keisha, you should probably stop feeding that cat. I don’t want it near my porch.” He said making you roll your.

“Loud and clear Phillip. Goodnight.”

You didn’t bother to even bother to entertain him or his ignorance. Not tonight. You unlocked your door, stepping in before locking it back. You pulled your gun out of you waistband before chucking off your shoes. You walked further into the apartment to see a figure standing there.

You froze.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” The figure said.

“You have five seconds to get the fuck out or I’ll put a bullet up your ass.” You snarled out.

“Where is he?" His voice was dark and deep. A rasp that sent a chill down your spine where you knew that he wasn't here for games. You stepped back slowly, cursing yourself for leaving your only weapon by the door.

"You're not going to make it in time to get the gun, Agent (Y/N). So I suggest you answer my questions. Where. Is. He?"

You weighed your options. You weren't in the best of places to be, that was for sure. "Who the fuck is 'he'?" You asked him.

"Benjamin Poindexter."

You stopped for a second before busting out in laughter. "Shit." You cried laughing, bending over in pain as tears rushed down your face. "Gosh, that's a name that brings me joy." You sarcastically said.

"I'm serious."

"He's in jail dumbass. He's serving like 11 life sentences." You scoffed.

"He escaped."

Those two words made all the hair on your body stand up. You felt your heart beat quicken as well as your breathing. You froze, like there was nothing left for you to even hear or do. "You... didn't know."

"How'd you find me?"

"That doesn't matter. There are two places he's going." He said. "It's either here, or to finish some unfinished business with Fisk."

"He won't find where I live."

"I did."

That part was true. "Who are you?" You asked him.

"I am... was Daredevil." He answered as you scoffed.

"Word on the street is that he's dead. And you don't even have the suit. You look... cheap." You chuckled darkly.

"Thanks..." He muttered. "If I had the suit, people would believe that I wasn't dead."

"Okay? Well he's not here. So.."

"I need you to tell me if he comes back." He begged you as you scoffed.

"Sorry. No can do."

"Are you seriously protecting him?" He scoffed in disgust. "He's hurt a whole shit tone of people!"

"No. Because if he shows up here, he's not leaving out of here alive."

[diamondthedoll]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝕭𝖔𝖆𝖗𝖉

𝒜𝓃𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝑒𝓍?

[diamondthedoll]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓

Summary: In the shadows of Hell's Kitchen, Bullseye finds himself obsessed with Paris. A sharp-tongued librarian with a dark mind of her own. What begins as stalking quickly spirals into something far more dangerous when Dex realizes Paris isn't afraid of his violence... she understands it. As their twisted fixation turns into devotion, the two descend into a toxic, obsessive romance where love feels less like salvation and more like possession.

Warnings: SMUT(MDNI 18+) dark romance, obsessive behavior, mutual stalking, toxic relationship dynamics, possessiveness, morally grey characters, violence, blood/injury, corruption,

Part1

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

The following morning, Dex had woke up to the sun rays hitting his face. He blinked a few times before noticing his surroundings like he did for the last few days. The smell of food cooking filled his nostrils as he sat up with a groan.

His stitching still felt tight. Not painful but uncomfortable. He groaned, the smell of her cooking was actually pleasant. It smelled…homemade. Like love.

Comfort.

He looked at the edge of the bed before seeing clothes. Familiar clothes. An FBI hoodie that was missing a string and a bleach spot. Sweat pants. Even some socks.

“She’s been in my apartment.” He said to himself with a chuckle.

“I have.” He looked towards the door to see her standing there. Grey shorts that barely hid much, a baby pink crop top, and some bear like themed house slippers? “You need to shower. I don’t like to sound mean but you stink. Bad.” She said walking over to him.

“Thanks.” He muttered with a small smile.

“How are you feeling?” She asked standing in front of him.

“I’m walking on sunshine.” He responded sarcastically.

“Don’t be rude. You’re the one that was dying in my bed. Let’s not forget.” She clapped back at him.

“You’re right. I apologize.” He answered before he looked at the clothes. “How’d you know where I live?” He cut straight to the case.

“I’ve—” she stopped for a moment rubbing the back of her forehead. He knew this look all to well. “I’ve been… observing you.” She cleaned it up.

“You’ve been stalking me?” He said with amusement. No judgement. No disgust. Interest.

“Well at least I didn’t steal any of your boxers. ”

She clapped back at him. He licked the inside of his cheek looking off to the side. “But I got my favorite pair back. Feel free to grab another pair though.” She gestured towards her laundry bin before turning around. “Take a shower. And we can discuss over breakfast,”

And with that she shut the door. He stared at the door shocked, confused, and utterly amused.

He took a shower. The only soap he could use was the one in the shower that belonged to her.

He absolutely loved it.

He dried himself off, got dressed and walked into the kitchen. The first time he saw the actual apartment itself. It definitely was a girls cave. Pictures of drawn melanated women hang on the wall, plants, colorful furniture, and the smell of essence and breakfast. There were pictures on the walls also of her cousin Janae. Her group of friends. Even her own diplomas.

He looked at the pictures, observing. Studying. Janae had…similarities. Wasn’t as beautiful as Paris. Still pretty. Nothing to obsess over. Even pictures of her as a kid.

He stopped at one of her diplomas. Given to her from NYU.

Masters in Psychology

He tilted her head to the side, mind racing. Could this possibly be the break he’s been desperately needing?

He followed the smell of the food before looking at her buttering some croissants. She was humming a tune, sounding so angelic. So beautiful and so peaceful.

“There is a bag on the table,” She turned to point at it. “It has antibiotics and pain killers.” She said.

“I’m good. But thank—”

“Take. Them.” She glared at him. He blinked a few times before sitting down at the end of the table. She placed the food on a plate before sitting it infront of him. “Eat.”

He obeyed, eating the white substance that tasted heavenly. “What is this white stuff?”’ He asked her with a mouth full.

“Grits. You haven’t eaten in two days. It should make you full.” She said sitting beside him. Her plate was similar but with smaller portions. They ate in silence before he broke it.

“How many times have you been in my apartment?” He asked her before she looked up at him. “Not being mean. Or rude,” he comforted her.

“Nine.”

He nodded slowly before chuckling. “I bought clothes from Walmart so you didn’t recognize my scent. Everytime I went.” She confessed as he raised an eyebrow. “Whenever you were sleeping in the nightime I had access to your keys. I only went there to get you some clothes,”

“That was dangerously stupid.” He chastised her.

“Dex.”

“No,” he stopped and glared at her. “You don’t know what or who could’ve been there. I understand you need to want to help me but I can’t live with myself know that I—” he stopped himself glaring at the butter that was melting on the grits.

“I was careful,”

“How’d you even know that?” She stopped for a moment, her spook hitting the plate.

“Because I know.” She snapped back at him.

“How!?” He exclaimed.

“Because I just fucking know!” She yelled finally. “I am not…I am not normal in my own head. How the hell do you think I was tracking you!? And how you didn’t know!?” She exclaimed.

“You don’t know that,”

“Yes I fucking do!” She yelled. “Whenever the FBI agent and whatever that clown who calls himself daredevil broke into your apartment, you knew. That’s why you put that police report in a year ago.” She snarled at him.

“How do you know—“

“Stop fucking asking me how I know that. I just know!” She yelled at him. He bit the inside of his jaw out of frustration. “I just…I just pick up on people, okay? I’ve been doing it for years. Longer than I started walking.” Her voice was much more calm.

“Who am I, then?”

She looked up at him. “Basics?”

“Basics.”

“Your name is Benjamin Poindexter. Forty one years old. You serve years in the military and served as an FBI agent. You killed your baseball coach when you were about 9-13 years old. You are probably have BPD and OCD." She answered.

"Seems like a lot."

"I'm not finished." She continued. "You worked with Kingpin. Had your charges dropped. But someway somehow can't stay out of trouble." She tapped the side of her mug. He stared at her before nodding. "You need a balance. A source of direction. A compass for what is moral and what isn't. You're a coin. That coin I mentioned yesterday? It's flipped every morning." She stopped before grabbing his hand. "Am I good person today? Or do I let my demons take over."

There was a long pause. Decision making. "Who are you, Paris?" He asked her.

"I'm Paris Johnson. I am 24 years old. I was diagnosed with BPD and OCD when I was 20. I went to school at NYU to study phycology in which I have my Masters in. It became too much when I finally started to understand how my brain and mind works. The only peace I get, is with my brothers and the library." She said with her eyes watering.

"Paris..."

"I'm not done." She finished. "I had an abusive father who you used to beat on me and my brothers. Badly. He broke my brother's leg. He broke my other brothers arm. He broke my nose. Blame it on PTSD or whatever. One night, he beat my youngest brother too bad. I waited until he was sleep and I slit his throat ear to ear." She continued. He nodded before sitting back into his seat.

"That's not all, is it?" He asked her. She shook her head.

"My grandparents knew. Said that we needed to obey our father. Despite he was a raging drunk marine with PTSD. He forced me to take care of them and myself when the injuries got too bad. That's why we were homeschooled." She continued. "We were taken in by our grandparents when he died. Over the span of six months, I smothered my grandfather first. Then months later I smothered her next. Only because I know smothering can look like a heart attack. In an autopsy." She finished off.

There was a silence. She didn't even look guilty. Just acceptance that she confessed. But she was so comfortable telling him. He pushed closer to her before whispering. "How did it feel to kill them?"

"It felt great."

Something dark and familiar moved between them instantly.

Paris leaned back slightly in her chair. “I spent years trying to convince myself I was horrified by it,” she whispered. “But part of me wasn’t.”

Dex felt his pulse slow. She just didn’t pity him. She was him.

A coin.

The same girl that gives her change to the homeless. Lead story times when the other librarian couldn’t do it.

Was also as twisted as he was.

Someone understood.

“I still get urges,” she admitted quietly. “Violent ones.” His eyes stayed locked on hers. “But I learned something in therapy.” A bitter smile crossed her mouth. “Urges don’t disappear. You redirect them.”

Silence. Then Paris reached across the table and took his hand. Warm fingers wrapped carefully around his.

“If monsters exist,” she whispered softly, “then maybe the best thing they can do is point themselves toward worse monsters.”

Dex stared at her like she’d just reached inside his head and translated every broken thought he’d ever had.

“You need purpose,” she continued. “Direction.” Her thumb brushed lightly across his knuckles.

“And I think…” She hesitated once. “I think I could be that for you. I can help. I easily got away with it before.” She said.

He looked at her. “Have you did anything to anyone else sweetheart?” He asked her. She nodded her head once.

“Only to those who deserve it. I haven’t done anything in a year, the library keeps me..stable.” She confessed.

The room felt unbearably intimate now Dex stood suddenly. His chair scraped hard against the floor as he crossed the kitchen in two steps.

Paris barely had time to breathe before his hands framed her face. Like touching her still overwhelmed him.

“You should scare me.” He whispered roughly.

“But I don’t.”

His forehead dropped against hers. “You understand me.”

Paris closed her eyes briefly at the confession. “Yes. I do,” she started off. “I wanna belong to you.”

The word shattered whatever restraint he had left. Dex kissed her hard.

Like a desperate plea for her to stay. Months of obsession collapsing into one violent moment.

Paris gasped softly against his mouth before kissing him back immediately, fingers gripping the front of his hoodie while his hands slid around her waist possessively.

The kiss deepened fast. Messy. Hungry. Dex kissed her like affection itself overwhelmed him. Like tenderness physically hurt.

Paris melted into it instantly. Her hands moving up his chest and around his neck needing to get him closer. He grabbed behind her thighs, lifting her up onto the kitchen table. He slid the plate a bit too hard, it fell on the floor.

Her fingers ran through his hair from the back gripping it, and slightly pulling gaining a moan from him. She smiled within the kiss before he pulled away. . Less than inches away, their lips brushing against each other.

The two shared an intense look, as if they were speaking with just their eyes. As if he was telling her are you okay with this? Not just about what they were about to get into, but everything.

“Yeah?” He rasped out looking at her.

“Yeah.” She nodded her head, a grin spreading across her face. He shared the same grin before saying,

“You have no idea what you just signed yourself up for, my love.” The way he sounded should’ve processed in her mind as sinister. Sick. Vile.

But it was the complete opposite. Acceptance.

“I’m more than happy to find out.” She whispered back. He grabbed her jaw, forcing another kiss out of her. More intense and rougher than the last one. He bit her lip…harder than what he should have making her gasp.

“So fucking beautiful.” He whispered pulling away. Her hands reached up underneath his hoodie, making sure not to cause any discomfort for where his stitches were. The feeling of his abs blessed the tips of her fingers making her lick her lip.

His hands made their way to the waistband of her shorts, only to be met with her bare self. “Where’s your underwear at?”

“Apparently at your place,” she clapped back. That made him burst out laughing. A genuine laugh that made her smile. “Okay. Yeah. You got me there.” He smile.

She grabbed his face before making her look at him. “You have a really pretty smile,” she complimented him. His eyes softened at the compliment, his face heating up. He kissed her again, this time in a slower rhythm.

His hands continued exploring her. Small gasps escaped her lips as his fingers circled her clit. She let out a sigh before his fingers traced toward her entrance.

“So wet for me, my love..” he whispered against her lips, she nodded.

“All for you baby.”

“Is that right?” He asked before inserting his middle finger. Her eyes widen before slowly closing. To catch her off guard, he inserted another one.

“Fuck..” she whispered as he slowly fucked her walls. She closed her eyes as he used his free hand to lightly slap her face.

“No, no, no. Look at me.” His fingers stopped for a second. She slowly opened them to see him smirking. “There she is with those pretty eyes.” He continued to finger her.

“Benny…” She whimpered.

Benny…

He never been called that. He actually hated to be called Benjamin. But the way she said that…

“Mhm. Say my name again.” He asked her.

“Benny… it feels good.” She whispered looking at him in the eyes. He pulled away as she whimpered. “I need you…” he whispered to her.

“I’m all yours.” She whispered back. “Use me however you need.l, baby.”

That is what was all he needed. He lifted her up from the table, lifting her up by her thighs. He adjusted the posture by placing his hands on her ass to kiss her. She grabbed his face, kissing him as he walked towards the back of the apartment where her room is.

He threw her on the bed. Excitedly, she pulled down her own shorts as he pulled off his hoodie throwing it somewhere. The exposure made her realize his injuries.

“Wait.” She stopped him before he could kiss her again.

“What? Did I do something?” He nervously said.

“No. You’re stitches.” She said looking at the bandage. “They could tear.”

“I don’t care. I need you.” He whispered leaning forward to kiss her neck. She closed her eyes with a sigh feeling his lips on her neck.

“Okay, lie down.” She instructed him. He groaned but listened. His head laid back on the pillows as she settled in between his legs. She slowly pulled down the sweats and his boxers, watching his dick hit against his stomach. He bit his lip watching her carefully.

“No fair.” He muttered. “I can’t be the only one who’s naked.” He grunted out.

She smirked before grabbing the base of his dick. He winced as she started to slowly stroke him. “Oh fuck.” He whimpered.

“Patience is a virtue, baby.” She whispered before leaning over. She spat on it, watching her saliva glisten on his dick.

“Please…” he whispered.

“Please what?” She teased him.

“I need to see you.”

“You see me right now.” She said, faking confusion with a tilt of her head. Her thumb playing with his tip, watching pre cum ooze from his it.

“Oh my fucking—” he bucked his hip towards her.

“Baby boy. You have to calm down. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She placed a hand on his abs.

“M’sorry. Just—fuck.” He whimpered. She saw his fist clenching at the sheets of the unmade bed. His veins popping out and the way his hands looked made her give in to his request.

She stopped for a second, before peeling off her shirt and shorts, leaving her naked. “Happy?”

“So fucking pretty…” he whispered looking her up and down.

“You are a very greedy man. You know that?” She said before sitting up on her knees and bend down to his dick. “Watching me. Breaking into my apartment. Stealing my underwear.” She placed kisses from the base of his dick to the tip. Slowly and taunting.

“Fuck. I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know.” She smiled before twirling her tongue around his tips. He gasped before looking down at her. His eyes halfway opened with his jaw ajar. “Please baby. Please,” he begged her. She playfully rolled her eyes before taking him all in.

He felt heavy in her mouth, the mixture of his pre cum in her saliva already making a necessary mess on his dick and the base. What she couldn’t fit she stoked.

Beautiful moans and whimpers left his mouth as he felt victim to her mouth. “Goddamnit Paris!” He gasped, grabbing her curls and gripping it. Tightly.

She hallowed her cheeks, sucking harder as he clenched his eyes. “I’m going to cum. Fuck.” He whimpered.

She couldn’t help the gargling noises that came from him. Her eyes closed, lost in her concentration. His toes curled, his breath quickened as he let out the most intense moan of the morning.

“Oh my God!” He cried.

He fucking cried.

So much cum had filled her mouth, it caught her off guard. “Shit, shit, shit.” He bucked his hips, the tip of his dick hitting the back of her throat making her gag.

“So sorry. Fuck. I didn’t mean—” his face was red now out of embarrassment. He covered his face.

He didn’t mean to cum that fast. It had been a while since the last time he was touched by a woman.

She swallowed all of it before leaning upward, grabbing his arm to uncover his face. “Shh it’s fine. It’s okay.” She comforted him while kissing his face. Then his lips.

She pulled away before moving her body off of him. “I don’t want you to lie on your stomach. So you’re going to stick your tongue out and you’re gonna let me ride your pretty face. Okay?” She instructed him as he nodded eagerly.

“Yes baby. Fuck yes.” He moaned.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” He followed her instructions before she spat directly into his mouth as he groaned. “Let me get it nice and wet. I want it really sloppy. Can you do that?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“Good boy.” She smirked before his mouth was open and tongue was out. She straddled his head, thighs touching his ears before she started to rub her pussy against his tongue.

“Shit baby. Just like that…” she moaned as he slurped up her wetness. Dex couldn’t even process that she was this wet for him. His hands wrapped around her thighs, pushing her harder against his mouth before grinding her against it.

“Uhh.” She whimpered, looking down at him. His pretty hazel eyes looked back at her, lust and admiration drowning in his eyes. A moan escaped his mouth, as she looked back to see him touching himself. “So fucking greedy. Fucking pathetic.” She degraded him.

Never in a million years, he would have thought that a woman talking to him like this would ever get him going. But now his dick was harder than it was when she sucked him off. And he thought he was the hardest he had ever been.

He moaned into her mouth, blinking a few times before she tilted her head. “Benny baby. You like it when I talk to you like that?” She asked him.

He nodded, the movement unknowingly adding another sense of pleasure to her pussy as she moaned. His hands found a way to her ass, smacking the area a little bit as she gasped.

“Can I come on your face, baby? Pretty please.” She begged him. He nodded again, the movement bringing her to an orgasm.

“Fuck!” She whimpered, falling beside him as he let out a loud breath.

“Holy shit. That was the hottest thing ever.” He let out as she giggled.

“Give me a second. Lemme catch my breath,” she said as he nodded.

“You are very lucky I’m injured by the way,” He added before she turned to look at him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Give me a few days.” He sat up on his side, looking down at her as he opened her legs. “I’m getting payback,” he said finally looking down at her pussy, spreading her lips as she bit her lips.

“Mhm. That means I get some days where I can use you,” she said as he stuck his middle finger in, knuckle deep. She sighed in content.

“Use me all you want baby.” He whispered before adding another finger, “I belong to you.” He fingered her pussy at a slow pace.

She grabbed his arm biting it before kissing. Her hands traced down to his before she started to fuck herself with his own hand. “Atta girl. Show me how good you fuck this pretty fucking pussy,” he groaned out as she whimpered.

“You hear how wet she is baby?” She asked him with doe eyes.

The sound was absolutely filthy. He nodded with a smirk. “She’s loud.” Dex agreed. “Use your other hand and play with your clit. Looks lonely,” he instructed her as she nodded. She spread her legs even more, lifting her knees with her feet dangling. “There you go baby. Get nice and open,”

She started to rub her clit, letting go of his hand as Dex took over, continuing to finger her. His hands was soaked with a creamy like substance. “Whose pussy is this?” He asked kissing her cheek.

“Fuck yours!” She exclaimed, feeling him hit the certain spot.

“I want you to cum on my fingers. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers baby.” He told her.

Her face contorted to a blissful pleasure. She focused on the pit in her stomach. He could fill the pulling and pushing of her grip. “This feels different.” She moaned out.

“Mhm. I can feel it baby. Just let it go.”

She lazily rubbed her clit before feeling the liquid squirt out of her. “Oh my God! Ben!” She yelled as he smiled down at the mess she was creating.

“Look at you, baby. Look at this fucking mess.” He continued to finger her as squirt wet the sheets, cover and his hands.

“Yes, yes!” She whispered throwing her back, body shaking. His pulled his fingers out before stuffing them in his mouth. She breathed heavily covering her face.

“I never did that before.” She confessed with embarrassment,

“Don’t be shy baby.” He comforted her. She pushed him on his back before straddled his lap.

“Can’t wait. I want you inside of me.” She said rubbing her clit with the tip of his dick. He moaned out, feeling how wet she was.

“Okay baby. Show me why this dick belongs to you.” He told her. She lined his dick at her entrance before slowly gliding down. A moan escaped from both of them as she placed her feet flat against the bed. With her hands on his chest, she started to bounce.

“Fuck yes,.,” he moaned. He placed his hands on her waist bringing her further down onto his dick.

“Feel so full..” she whimpered slamming down onto it, the sounds of their skin slapping and her wetness coding his dick.

The tip of his dick beat against her cervix, it was so painful to the point it felt good. “Goddamn mamas. Ride my shit just like that.” He grunted before looking up at her.

She looked back down at him, their eyes locking into each other. Neither one of them being able to look away from the other. With such an intense look, it nearly drove both of them into insanity. More than the insanity they already were.

“Fuck Benny.” She stopped for a second, her knees and thighs burning,

“It’s okay, I got you.” She fell to her knees as he grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. With the bodies now touching and her face in his neck, he finished them off.

His hands found her ass cheeks, spreading them as he fucked into her with slow yet hard thrusts. Every-time he went in, she made noise that vibrated against his neck.

“I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum.” She whimpered.

“Hold it baby. Let us cum together,” he whispered to her as she shook her head.

After a few seconds, her pussy clenched making him grunt. Then he scratched at her ass cheeks as a wetness glazed down his dick and balls. “Fuck baby!” He said, his thrusts becoming uneven as he unloaded into her.

They stayed like that for a minute. He rubbed her ass as he kissed her face. “Did so good.” He whispered as she chuckled.

She pulled off, falling next to him. “I do have to be at the library in like… an hour.” She told him looking at her.

“Oh. Shit. If I had known…” he trailed off.

“No, it’s okay. It’s fine if I’m a bit late.” She sat up before inspecting his bandage. “Still okay?” She gestured towards it. He nodded.

“Okay, you can stay here. You are kind of right about your apartment,” she said tracing figures on his chest.

“Or I could go to the library with you.” He offered.

“You need to rest and heal.” She said before sighing. “Plus, I need you to be in tip top shape for the plans I have for you.”

[scarlet48]

Need Him To Be Adrian's Older Brother In The Next Season of Peacemaker

[nelsonmurdockpaged]

look at my lawyer dawg he’s in jail 😭

[bodeckerhedron]

FREDDIE STROMA as ADRIAN CHASE / VIGILANTE

➤• PEACEMAKER (S02 E07)

[diamondthedoll]

A date night in Paris sounds lovely ❤️🤤

[romantacysblog]

IM GOING FERAL. OMFGGG. HES SO BIG. IM GONNA FREAK TF OUT

[diamondthedoll]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓

Summary: In the shadows of Hell’s Kitchen, Bullseye finds himself obsessed with Paris . A sharp-tongued librarian with a dark mind of her own. What begins as stalking quickly spirals into something far more dangerous when Dex realizes Paris isn’t afraid of his violence… she understands it. As their twisted fixation turns into devotion, the two descend into a toxic, obsessive romance where love feels less like salvation and more like possession.

Warnings: warnings/tags: dark romance, obsessive behavior, mutual stalking, toxic relationship dynamics, possessiveness, morally grey characters, violence, blood/injury, corruption

Part1 | Part2

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

This wasn’t suppose to happen. Not like this.

Dex told himself that every single morning now.

He told himself that while cleaning blood from beneath his fingernails. While sitting in dark apartments that didn't belong to him. While taking jobs he barely remembered afterward. He told himself that while staring at the ceiling at three in the morning with her voice trapped inside his skull like a bullet ricocheting around metal.

Three months ago.

The library in the third district of Hell's Kitchen was too bright for him.

Too open and too alive.

Glass paneled walls let sunlight pour across polished floors. Outside sat a carefully maintained garden with painted concrete tiles made by neighborhood kids. Handprints. Chalk flowers. Smiling suns. The kind of place that tried very hard to convince people the world wasn't cruel.

Dex looked like violence standing in the middle of it.

Black jacket. Heavy boots. Scar cutting across his face. Broad shoulders that moved like he was constantly preparing for impact.

People noticed.

A mother pulled her toddler a little closer. An old man lowered his newspaper. A teenager stopped typing mid-sentence.

Dex ignored all of them.

His printer had broken at his apartment, and he needed hard copies for wire transfers before six. Simple. In and out.

No complications.

He stared at the screen with growing irritation. Clicking harder than necessary. The machine beeped back at him like it was mocking him. "Come on," he muttered.

Error again. His jaw tightened. "Shit."

"Language."

The voice wasn't sharp. Worse. Like whoever it was, was amused by his frustration. Dex looked up. And the world narrowed.

She stood behind the circulation desk holding a stack of returned books against her hip. Beautiful wasn't enough of a word for her. Beautiful sounded soft. Temporary.

She looked composed.

Curly hair slicked back into a bun with stubborn waves escaping near her ears. Edges precise enough to look artistic. Gold hoops catching the sunlight every time she moved. An oversized NYU shirt tucked into jeans that fit like they'd been tailored specifically to ruin somebody's self-control.

Her smile hit him first. Not flirtatious. Observant. Like she already knew exactly what kind of man he was and found it mildly entertaining.

"You are," she continued, nodding toward the corner behind him, "standing directly beside the mommy-and-me reading circle.

Dex blinked once.

He slowly turned his head.

Tiny children sat on colorful rugs while exhausted mothers stared back at him with varying levels of concern. One toddler looked genuinely terrified.

He looked back at her. She grinned wider.

"And while it'd be hilarious for their first word to be shit," she said, lowering her voice confidentially, "I don't think the mommies would be too thrilled."

Something unfamiliar twisted in his chest.

Not lust…not yet at least. Something worse.

Interest. Real interest. The kind he knew he was doomed to be fascinated with for however long she is able to.

Dex stepped closer to the desk. "Printer's broken."

"No," she replied easily. "You just don't know how to use it."

That should've irritated him. Instead, his mouth almost twitched. Almost.

She set the books down and walked around the counter. Up close, she smelled faintly like vanilla and old paper. Comforting things. Human things.

Dangerous things. She reached past him toward the keyboard and paused. Not fear. Assessment. A tiny shift in her eyes toward the blade hidden beneath his jacket. The unnatural stance. The weight distribution in his feet. Military families noticed things. Survival taught people patterns.

Interesting. Very interesting.

But she simply leaned closer to the screen. "You skipped the authentication step." She said swiping her key card. “But I’m gonna assume you ain’t the library type, so you can use mine for now.” She said signing in.

Dex watched her fingers move over the keyboard. Efficient. Steady. No wasted motion."You always this angry at office equipment?" she asked with a tease tone.

"Only when it deserves it."

A soft laugh escaped her. Jesus Christ. That sound. He felt it under his skin. In his bones. Even in his DNA.The printer suddenly whirred to life.

"There." She stepped back with a satisfied nod. "Crisis averted. The library survives another day. So do my printer. Don’t let me catch you doing it again or it’s going to be a problem.”

Dex stared at her longer than socially acceptable. She noticed. Of course she noticed. But instead of shrinking under it, she tilted her head slightly.

Curious. Like she was studying him too. "What? You tryna make it a problem?" she asked.

He should've looked away. Normal people would've looked away. Instead, he said, "You talk to everybody like this?"

"No." She folded her arms. "Only the ones that look like they might fight our newly bought printer." For the first time in days, maybe weeks, Dex laughed. A real one.

Not like the ones he forced with Matt or Frank. Or the ones with his neighbors when he decides to feed the stray kitty.

Short. Rough. Surprised even him.

Her eyebrows lifted slightly like she hadn't expected that reaction. Neither had he.

"What's your name?" he asked.

“Paris.” Of course it was. Something elegant. Something dangerous dressed as beautiful. "Yours?"

There was a pause. He almost lied.

"Dex." Paris nodded once like she was filing the name away somewhere important. And maybe she was.

"You new around here, Dex?"

"No."

"You always lurk like a Batman villain, or is today special?" She tilted her head with a smile.

That earned another near-smile. This woman was either fearless or insane. His pulse said he didn't care which. She glanced at the papers printing behind him. "Wire transfers?"

His eyes sharpened instantly. Too observant. But she only shrugged casually.

"You've got routing numbers on the screen. Relax." Her grin returned. "I read books for a living. Context clues are kind of my thing."

Dex studied her carefully now. Most people got uncomfortable under his stare. Paris held it effortlessly.

Steady breathing with relaxed shoulders. No fear scent. No nervous twitching. Interesting.

Interesting. The printer finished. He grabbed the papers. He should leave.

Instead, he heard himself ask, "How do I get a library card?"

Paris blinked. Then she smiled slowly like she knew exactly what he was doing. "Oh," she murmured. "You're committing now."

Dex frowned slightly. "What?"

"Nobody gets a library card anymore unless they're planning to become emotionally attached to the building."

There it was again. That feeling. Like his ribs were too tight around his lungs.

Paris walked back behind the counter and slid paperwork toward him. Dex took the pen.

"Address?" she asked.

He hesitated. She noticed that too. Everything about her noticed things. Finally, she leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.

"You don't have to look so suspicious," she said softly. She sneakily grabbed her phone. "If I wanted to rob you, I'd wait until you left the building."

Dex stared at her. And somewhere deep inside him, something old and broken tilted toward her completely.

Not fascination. Not anymore. Something far more violent. Devotion. Across the desk, Paris smiled pleasantly while stamping due dates into returned books.

But underneath the counter, hidden from his view, she recorded him repeating his address and number back to her.

That same night, he paced his living room. It was dark and the only light was the hue of the orange street lights outside.

Paris. Paris. Paris.

He rubbed his chin, the hairs roughing his finger tips. He wanted to see her, needed to see her. He didn’t want to come off too strong. He could go back there to get some books. Start a new hobby in the name of love.

Love. Paris. Love. Paris. Paris. Paris.

Paris sat in her shared apartment with her friend/cousin, in her own room at her computer desk. She twisted side to side as she played with the lighter in her hand as she stared at the video of him. Attacking multiple AVTF members like it was breathing to him.

Bullseye.

Known vigilante . Worked with King Pin. Against Daredevil. Than against King Pin. Barely seen in public, due to him getting some please deal but who gives a fuck.

Does he have trouble with loyalty? She could fix that. She would fix that.

Her door opened as she quickly turned it off. What showed on her screen was her shopping for some new shoes. Her roommate, Janae walked in.

“So, you remember Devon from the movie night the other night?”

“Maybe. Why?” She leaned back in her chair.

“Well… he wants to take you on a date.” She smirked at Paris. Paris face dropped instantly when she said it. “Awe c’mon. He’s a good guy. He’s an accountant and makes good money. He even volonteers at the nursing home.”

Boring.

“That is sweet,..” She lied, hopefully to get her out of the room. She needed to see more information on her Benjamin.

Her Benjamin.

“So…”

“Sorry girl. Just not interested.”

Plus, he’ll be cutting into time that could be time for Dex. “Okay, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t forget you’re helping me pack my room.” Janae pointed at him.

“I swear,” She crossed her heart in promise. “I’m being paid in free Chinese and Don Julio. I’m there.”

Janae smiled before she exited the room. Paris smiled in content. Not at the free food and liquor. (Depends on who you might ask)

She gets to watch move videos of her Benjamin.

Her Benjamin.

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Dex walked into the library, a little more effort in his appearance. All black still but a bit more put together. A black T-Shirt that hugged his biceps. Dark colored jeans with black and white old skool vans. His hair was styled, sort of. Just a bit more effort than the last time he came in about week ago.

He walked further in, only to see an older white lady at the desk, instantly getting annoyed. He went to roll his eyes but the sliding doors opened from the other entrance. “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was horrible.” She came in with a purse in one hand and a reusable shopping back. She looked up before smiling.

“Dex. Hi. Funny seeing you back,” She said placing her stuff behind the counter. He was going to answer but the old lady spoke up.

“Aren’t you off today, Paris?”

Realization hit her face before she squinted her eyes and scrunched her nose. “Shit,” She muttered.

Should I joke? Should I make a reference to…

“Language,” he joke. She looked at him before smiling.

“Funny. I’m copy righting my joke.” She playfully rolled her eyes. He should have really left her alone. But he couldn’t. “Well I’m here. Maybe I can work for some overtime?”

Overtime? Was she struggling financially? Was she living check to check? Did she needed help?

“Sorry hun. No can do. And take a break. You need it.” She hopped off the seat going somewhere to the back.

“Dang it.” She muttered before looking over at him. “What are you doing here?” She asked looking over at him.

“Wanted a few books. Mind helping me?” He asked her.

“Sir, I’m not on the clock. I wished this pretty face got paid.” She chuckled.

It could. He’d be the main and only customer,

He closed his eyes before muttering. “Right. Right. Sorry.”

She stared at him before smirking. “What genre are you looking for?” She asked.

“Umm… true crime?” He sounded unsure. She raised an eyebrow.

“Follow me, big head.”

“Big head? My head isn’t big.”

“Take it as a compliment. Big head means lots of knowledge.” She chuckled walking through the library. He follows behind her. His eyes slowly dropped down her figure. Then his mind wondered.

What would it be like to have her bent over these desks? Pressed against the shelves? Knees digging into this dirty carpets?

They walked along the veins off the library, before stopping in one of the sections. “The books on the platforms are always new releases. Which means their due date is a lot sooner. So—”

“What books do you read?” He interrupted her. He swore if she could blush, she would be. The way her lips tucked back into her mouth. Her avoiding contact, it wasn’t like her normal confident person.

“Trust me. You wouldn’t be interested.”

“You never know.”

A few days had passed. Paris had officially had his scedhule memorized. She followed him quietly after night time when she was sure he was sure she was in for the night. The gorgeous purple and black suit. His daring eyes. That cocky ass smile. And that walk.

Fuck that walk.

She didn’t need to see that it hang as heavy as his presence. Adjusting himself. He walked like it was the heaviest weapon he had.

She even noticed that he took a few hours out of his day to prioritize his own need of wanting to watch her.

She loved it.

So when he didn’t visit the library that early afternoon, she was worried.

But she didn’t need to be. He was right where he wanted to be. Right outside of her window, on her fire escape. She kept the window open for some reason. But he didn’t mind it. Not when no one would come this close with him now here.

He slid open the window upward before stepping in. He processed every detail about her room. A nice PC set up that she loved to game on. A book she was currently reading on her night stand with multiple half open water bottles. Clothes all over the floor like she was trying to find a cute outfit.

“Well aren’t you messy.” He smirked to himself. “We’ll fix that.” He whispered before looking over to the back of the room.

He was more astounded by how many books filled the floor to ceiling bookshelves. His hands traced the spines of the book, noticing colorful sticky notes tabs in all of them. Curiosity got the best of him as he pulled one off the shelf. He opened the book.

“Are the ropes too tight, my love?” Tony asked Vanessa as she shook her head. The fear in her eyes didn’t match the wetness that spread across her pussy lips. Only comparison was the wetness.

Not even when she moaned when he slightly patted her sensitive nub. “Fuck…you’re so fucking gorgeous all tied up for me. Gonna let me use you like a good slut for you are for me…right?”

She nodded her head rapidly. She couldn’t talk, not with his undershirt being used as a gag. The smell of his cologne and his natural filling her nostrils making it even more intense than it should be. He smirked rapidly at her before slipping in two strong folders as she moaned.

“You’re so wet for this shit, it’s pathetic,”

He chuckled before placing the book back. Grabbed another one, and read. And that went like that for twenty minutes.

Paris—his Paris was twisted. Dark romance, sex scenes that would make the devil gasp. And the fact she had them saved.

Is this what she wanted?

He looked around the room. There is no way she knew about his sick behavior.

There was no way she knew.

Dex convinced himself of that while standing in the center of her room with one of her books still open in his hand.

The apartment smelled like her. Vanilla. Laundry detergent. Something warmer underneath it all that settled into his bloodstream like a drug.

His eyes dragged slowly around the room again. The carelessness of it fascinated him. Paris looked composed in public. Sharp. Controlled. But her bedroom looked lived in. Hoodies hanging halfway off the desk chair. Jewelry tossed beside empty water bottles.

He walked to the two drawer nightstand. He opened the first drawer. Bonnets, scarves, most strips, even a small bottle of Vic rub. He closed it before opening the second drawer. He noticed a plug connected to the inside.

Gold.

A pretty rose toy that was plugged into the cord. A white dildo that looked about a good five inches. He laughed. This was nothing compared to his real thing. He grabbed it, thinking it would have a whiff of her but it smelled like clean soap. Even the rose toy. Clean.

He rolled his eyes but shrugged. At least she cleaned her toys if she wasn’t cleaning her room. He closed the drawer before he noticed something in the corner.

A pair of jeans crumpled near the foot of the bed.

Human. Intimate. Real. Dex crouched beside the jeans before he could stop himself. His fingers brushed the denim.

Then stilled. Black lace. His jaw tightened instantly.

The underwear had been tangled in the jeans like she'd kicked them off absentmindedly after work yesterday. The image hit him harder than it should've. Paris walking around this room tired and comfortable. Paris barefoot. Paris unaware.

His pulse throbbed violently in his throat. This was getting bad.

Because he should leave. Instead, he picked them up slowly. His breathing deepened.

Something ugly and possessive crawled beneath his skin. He stared at the fabric for a long moment before bringing them to his face and smelling. He moaned.

Smell so sweet and needy. Him shoving them into his jacket pocket with rough, guilty movements.

Then he crossed to her dresser. Opened the top drawer. Neatly folded pairs. Different colors. Different fabrics. Jesus Christ. Dex grabbed one pair almost automatically and shoved those into his pocket too. Blue thongs that looked like it barely hid anything.

His head tilted suddenly. Footsteps downstairs. Light. Measured.

Her.

Every instinct sharpened at once. Paris was home early. Dex moved instantly, silent as a ghost as he slipped toward the window. But before climbing out, his eyes swept the room one final time.

The bed. The books. The lingering scent of her in the air.

Mine.

The thought came so naturally it almost disturbed him. Almost. Then he disappeared out onto the fire escape seconds before the apartment door unlocked.

Paris stepped inside quietly. The door clicked shut behind her. And she froze. Most people would've seen nothing wrong.

Everything looked untouched.

Normal. But Paris had spent her childhood around soldiers, liars, and dangerous men pretending not to be dangerous. You learned quickly how to feel when something had shifted.

The apartment felt...occupied.

Not physically. Recently. Her eyes moved slowly across the room. The window above her bed was open wider than she left it.

The air smelled different now. Colder. Masculine. Like leather and metal sneaking beneath her vanilla candles. A smile threatened at the corners of her mouth immediately.

"My Benjamin," she murmured softly. She tossed her bag onto the chair before walking deeper into the room.

Not afraid. Never afraid.

Her fingers brushed over her bookshelf. One book slightly out of line compared to the others. Another opened just enough to reveal bent pages.

He touched my things. Her pulse fluttered pleasantly. Then she noticed the jeans near the bed. Paris crouched slowly.

One glance. And there it was.

Missing.

The realization settled over her like warm silk. Not stolen randomly.

Carefully chosen. Intimately. Her smile finally broke fully across her face.

Slow. Knowing. Twisted. She looked toward the open window. Toward the fire escape where she knew he had escaped only moments ago.

She could practically feel the ghost of him still lingering here. Watching. Breathing. Wanting. Most women would've been terrified. Paris only laughed softly beneath her breath. Then she stood, walking toward the window before resting against the frame.

Her eyes scanned the alley below like she might still catch him disappearing into Hell's Kitchen.

"You’re getting closer, baby," she whispered to herself. But the thing sitting heavy inside her chest wasn't fear.

It was excitement. Because she knew something Dex didn't.

She'd left the window unlocked on purpose.

We as EA

Dex disappeared for twelve days. Paris counted every single one. Not intentionally at first.

Then by day four, she realized she was checking the library doors every twenty minutes like some lovesick idiot. By day seven, she was irritated.

By day ten, she started wondering if she'd pushed too far somehow. Maybe he realized she knew. Maybe he'd gotten bored. Maybe he'd finally recognized how dangerous this thing between them actually was.

She hated how much the possibility bothered her.

So when the front doors of the library opened that rainy Thursday afternoon and Dex walked in, Paris almost lost composure for the first time in years.

Almost.

He looked exhausted. She felt bad. Was she the reason? Did she go to far?

Dark circles beneath his eyes. Black jacket damp from the rain. That same intense stare immediately landing on her like he'd been deprived of something vital.

Relief hit her so hard it pissed her off.

Paris leaned back in her chair casually. "Look who decided libraries are important again."

Dex walked toward the counter slowly.

His eyes flicked over her face like he was reassuring himself she was real. "I've been busy."

"Liar." She chuckled. She knew he wasn’t lying. The life of a vigilante in the city of hell kitchen was a pretty taxing hobby.

The corner of his mouth twitched God, she'd missed that.

Paris closed the book she'd been shelving. "You vanish for almost two weeks and come back looking like you fought a raccoon in an alley."

His voice lowered. "You noticed I was gone?"

She held his stare.

She smiled softly. Genuine."You're not subtle, Dex." Paris answered, inspecting a ruined book. “You’re handsome. And I like having conversations with you. I missed it.”

Something warm and dangerous flashed behind his eyes. Then came the silence. Not awkward. Heavy.

Like both of them were standing on the edge of something neither fully understood yet. Finally, Dex exhaled slowly.

"Come with me somewhere tonight."

Straight to it. No buildup. Paris felt excitement crawl up her spine instantly.

"A date?" she teased.

Dex stared at her for a second too long before answering. "Yeah."

The honesty of it caught her off guard. Not manipulation. Not a game. Just raw want. She smiled softly despite herself. "Where?"

"Carnival at Pier 54."

Paris blinked. Of all things, she hadn't expected that.

“You wanna take me to carnival?”

His shoulders shifted slightly like he suddenly regretted asking. "Forget it."

"No." She stood quickly. "No, I wanna go." The relief he tried hiding almost made her chest ache.

"You free at seven?" he asked.

Paris tilted her head. "Missed me that bad?" Dex looked at her with an intensity that swallowed the joke whole.

"Yeah."

Her stomach flipped violently. Jesus Christ.

"Seven's fine," she answered quietly.

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

Paris stood in front of her mirror three hours later genuinely annoyed by how nervous she felt. It was ridiculous. She had stalked this man back. She knew he broke into her apartment.

Knew he watched her.

Knew there was something deeply wrong with both of them.

And somehow, picking an outfit felt more intimate than any of it. Finally, she settled on dark flared jeans and a fitted long-sleeve top that hugged her body without trying too hard. Gold jewelry. Curly hair loose tonight instead of tied back.

Effortless. Deadly. Beautiful. When Dex saw her outside the carnival entrance, he stopped walking completely. The lights from the rides painted colors across her skin while music and distant laughter filled the pier.

But all he saw was her.

Paris smirked immediately. "That bad?"

"You look..." Dex paused like words physically failed him. "Fuck." She laughed softly.

And somehow that only made him stare harder. The carnival itself was chaos. Children screaming on rides. Fried food smells thick in the air. Cheap prizes hanging from booths.

And for the first hour, it felt almost normal.

Terrifyingly normal.

Paris stole bites of his funnel cake while claiming she didn't want one herself. Dex won her a stuffed bear within thirty seconds at some water gun game.

Then another.

Then another.

By the fourth stuffed animal, Paris was laughing openly. "Okay, this is getting ridiculous."

Dex glanced down at the oversized pink rabbit he'd just won her. "You said it was cute."

“It is cute. Just confused on how you never miss.”

He didn't. Not once. The basketball game. The dart game. The ring toss. Every movement Dex made was terrifyingly precise.

People around them started noticing. Some noticed exactly who he was but who was going to interfere and say this was technically cheating. A baseball to the head could kill them.

Well, it could.

A worker at one booth narrowed his eyes suspiciously after Dex knocked over every bottle with one baseball throw. Paris noticed too.

And God help her, it did something horrible to her brain. Because now she could see it. The control. The terrifying stillness in him before he moved.

Like violence lived beneath his skin so naturally that accuracy was instinct. Dex picked up another baseball casually before handing it to her. "Try."

Paris rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna embarrass myself."

"You won't."

She stepped beside him anyway. The glass bottles clinked softly in the distance. Paris threw. Missed terribly.

Dex actually laughed. Not mocking. It sometimes slipped his mind that something that came so naturally for him wasn’t as natural to the regular human.

Warm. Real. "Oh shut up," she muttered. He stepped behind her before she could protest. Everything in her body instantly went alert.

His chest pressed lightly against her back. One hand wrapped around her wrist while the other settled against her waist.

Paris stopped breathing for half a second.

"Relax," Dex murmured near her ear. That was the problem. His hands adjusted her grip slowly. Gentle. The veins in his hand was up close, making her lick her bottom lip.

Way too gentle for a man like him. "You throw too fast," he said quietly. "Aim first. Then let go."

Paris could barely focus on the stupid bottles anymore. Not with him pressed against her like this. Not with his voice low in her ear. Not with the realization that this man—this violent, obsessive, terrifying man, was handling her like something precious.

Together, they threw the baseball. Crash. All the bottles shattered. The booth worker cursed under his breath. Paris turned her head slightly toward Dex.

And the look in his eyes nearly ruined her. Pure obsession. Unhidden now. No pretending anymore. Like he didn't know where he ended and she began. Her pulse throbbed dangerously.

"You're showing off," she whispered.

"For you," he answered immediately.

God.

The Ferris wheel happened near the end of the night. Paris sat beside him with stuffed animals piled in her lap while the city glittered around them. High above Hell's Kitchen, everything suddenly felt quieter.

Smaller. Dex looked...peaceful. Which honestly unsettled her more than his violence ever could. His arm rested behind her shoulders while the Ferris wheel rocked gently.

"This is the most fun I've had in years," Paris admitted softly.

Dex looked over at her slowly. "Me too."

No hesitation, just them bathing in their own self truth.

Dex reached up automatically, brushing them aside with careful fingers. Paris watched him closely. "You're trying very hard not to scare me away," she murmured.

"You should be scared."

"But I'm not."

That look again. That devastating, hungry look. The Ferris wheel stopped near the top. And before either of them could overthink it, Paris grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him.

Dex froze for one stunned second. Then he kissed her back like he was starving. With a deep possessive that made the Mariana Trench look like a shallow pond.

Years of restraint snapping violently all at once.

Paris melted into it instantly, fingers gripping his jacket tighter as the city lights blurred beneath them. When they finally pulled apart, both breathing unevenly, Dex rested his forehead against hers.

Something dangerous settled between them completely.

Not the ideas of infatuation obsession anymore. Something far worse. Something mutual.

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

The city still smelled like blood when Dex climbed her fire escape.

Rain had started sometime after midnight, soft against the metal beneath his boots. His knuckles were bruised. There was a shallow cut near his jaw he hadn't bothered cleaning yet. Somewhere downtown, people were probably still talking about Bullseye.

But all he could think about was her kiss on the Ferris wheel.

The way Paris smiled against his mouth. The way she'd looked at him without fear. It was ruining him. Dex slipped through the window silently.

Her room was dark except for the warm glow of string lights hanging near her bookshelf. The faint hum of her fan filled the apartment.

And there she was. Asleep. His chest tightened painfully.

Paris slept like she lived and talked. Careless. Completely sprawled across the bed on top of the blankets like she'd collapsed there mid-thought. One leg bent slightly. The other stretched across the mattress. A huge T-shirt rode up just enough to show smooth brown skin against dim light. Even where he was standing he could see she had no bottoms on.

Dex stopped for a moment.

He'd watched her for months now. Seen her laughing. Reading. Angry. Teasing him. Existing.

But this felt different. This felt intimate. Too soft.

His pulse slowed as he stepped closer to the bed.

Paris shifted slightly in her sleep, brows furrowing before relaxing again. Completely unaware there was a killer standing beside her bed looking at her like she'd become religion.

Dex swallowed hard. This was bad. This was so much worse than obsession now. Because obsession implied distance. This felt like devotion. Like his entire nervous system had rewired itself around her existence.

Slowly, almost uncertainly, Dex pulled his gloves off. His hands flexed once at his sides. Then he reached toward her carefully. That voice pleaded with him.

Don’t do it.

The first touch nearly unraveled him. Her skin was unbelievably warm.

His fingertips brushed slowly along her calf, almost reverent. Like he was touching something sacred instead of human. Paris shifted again at the contact, a soft sleepy sound leaving her throat before she settled deeper into the mattress.

And she leaned into his hand. Dex closed his eyes briefly. Something cracked open inside his chest.Not even possessiveness. Something deeper and more dangerous.

The need to protect. To keep. To belong.

His thumb moved gently against her skin, feeling the softness there. Feeling real proof that she existed outside the fantasies he'd built around her.

"So perfect..." he whispered hoarsely. Paris breathed slowly beneath him, completely relaxed. Trusting without realizing it.

Dex stared at her for a long moment before his eyes drifted around the room again. The books. The clothes on the floor. The tiny life she'd unknowingly made space for him inside.

He knew this wasn't normal.

Knew normal people didn't stand in dark bedrooms after midnight just to touch someone for a few seconds.

But the terrifying part? He didn't want to stop because for the first time in his entire life, Dex felt calm. Not empty. Not violent. Just...here with her.

His hand slid away reluctantly before he stepped back toward the window again. But before leaving, he looked at her one last time.

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

The sound of Dex collapsing against the fire escape railing echoed through the apartment hard enough to make Paris jolt upright in her gaming chair.

At first she thought it was part of the game.

Then came the second sound. A rough, broken inhale. Her stomach dropped instantly.

Paris tore her headset off and crossed the apartment fast, hand already sliding beneath the desk for the pistol taped there. Years of military training wrapped in muscle memory.

The second she shoved the window open, cold rain hit her face. And there he was.

Dex barely held himself upright against the metal stairs, one hand pressed hard against his side while blood soaked through his black shirt in thick streams. Rainwater mixed with it beneath him, dripping through the fire escape grates.

For the first time since she'd met him, he looked human. Breakable.

"Dex? Oh my God!"

His eyes lifted toward her slowly yet till sharp. Still him. But exhausted in a way she'd never seen before.

"You shouldn't..." His voice cracked roughly. "Be out here."

Paris climbed onto the fire escape immediately.

“Shut up,” she walked over to him. Thankfully he instantly fell into her arms or he would be falling. Seven stories.

Paris caught him with both hands, grunting slightly beneath his weight. Jesus Christ, he was heavy. All hard muscle and dead weight and pain.

But he leaned into her instinctively. Like his body trusted hers before his mind could. That did something dangerous to her chest.

"Come on," she muttered. "Stay awake."

Dex's forehead brushed her temple accidentally as she dragged him toward the window. His breathing was uneven now. Wet. Painful.

"I didn't know where else to go," he admitted quietly.

The confession hit her harder than the blood. Not because it was romantic. Because it was honest. Someone like Dex didn't go anywhere vulnerable unless he needed it.

Unless he trusted it.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you came to me. I can help you.”

Paris managed to pull him inside just as his legs finally gave out completely. They hit the floor together hard.

"Dex."

"I'm fine. Just needed to come in."

"You're literally leaking on my carpet." A weak laugh escaped him before pain cut it short.

By the time she got him onto the bed, blood had already stained her purple comforter beyond saving. Dex tried forcing himself upright immediately despite the obvious agony twisting across his face.

"I can fix it myself."

Paris shoved him flat onto the mattress with a hand against his chest.

"No you can't."

His eyes snapped to hers instantly at the contact. They stayed there.

Paris suddenly became very aware of how warm he felt beneath her palm. How broad he was stretched across her bed. How his breathing slowed slightly when she touched him.

Very dangerous.

"I said lie down, Benjamin." She glared at him. The use of his first name caught him off guard. Dex stared at her another second before finally relaxing back against the mattress.

Obedient. Only for her.

Paris disappeared into the bathroom before returning with medical supplies. When she managed to figure out how to get to get it open, she had to hide her reaction.

Bruises bloomed violently across his ribs. Deep cuts lined his torso and shoulders. One knife wound sat angry and swollen near his side. She couldn’t even appreciate how beautiful he looked.

Someone had tried hard to kill him tonight. A cold rage settled low in her stomach at the thought. Dex watched her carefully as she cleaned the wound.

"You know what you're doing."

It wasn’t a question. Because he watched her every movement. She was an expertise.

"My father believed children should know how to survive battlefield injuries before middle school."

That earned the smallest twitch of his mouth.

Paris stitched him carefully while rain tapped softly against the windows behind them. The room smelled like blood and rubbing alcohol and Dex's cologne beneath it all.

He never looked away from her once.

Not even when the needle pierced skin. Not even when pain tightened his jaw hard enough to crack teeth.His eyes stayed on her.

Like she was the only thing anchoring him there. By the time she finished wrapping the bandages around his torso, Dex was fading fast.

Exhaustion dragged heavily at his features now. Paris adjusted the blankets over him carefully. Not to cover the wounds but to make him comfortable.

And paused.

Because this was the closest she'd ever been to him. Really been. Without teasing. Without tension. Without performance.

Just Dex.

Broken and bleeding in her bed because somehow, somewhere along the line, she'd become the place he ran to.

Her fingers brushed lightly across the hard planes of his stomach before she could stop herself. Dex inhaled shakily beneath the touch. Paris looked at him. Really looked at him.

The scars.

The bruises.

The terrible loneliness carved into someone who'd probably never been held gently in his entire life.

Her fingertips slid slowly along his abs.

Respectful and careful. Dex's eyes fluttered half shut at the contact like it physically hurt him. But he loved it. Craved it.

“So…perfect.” She whispered. Her hands trailed between the valleys of his abs and pecs, biting her lips before she looked up at him.

His breathing caught. She knows.

For one suspended second, neither of them moved. Then exhaustion finally dragged him under completely.

[̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_][̲̅_]

When Dex woke the next night, the room was dim and warm. His body ached less now. The first thing he registered was touch. Soft fingers gliding carefully across his ribs while changing the bandages near his side.

Paris sat beside him wearing one of those oversized shirts again. Hair messy. Face bare. Beautiful enough to ruin him completely.

Dex stared at her silently. Paris noticed immediately. "You're alive. Thought I was going to have to call them folk for your body." She said, not looking at him. She cleaned his wounds thoroughly. Carefully.

"Barely."

"You drooled on my pillow." She gestured towards it.

His mouth almost twitched. She was hoping to see it.

She finished taping fresh gauze into place before her hand lingered unconsciously against his stomach. Dex looked down at it.

Then back at her. Something thick settled into the room. Dangerous. He caught her wrist gently before she could pull away.

Paris stilled instantly. This was the first time he'd touched her awake like this. Not teasing or accidental.

Intentional.

His hand was warm despite the injuries. Large around her wrist without squeezing. Just holding.

Like he needed proof she existed. Dex swallowed hard. "I need to leave."

Paris frowned slightly. "You're not even healed. Hell no.” She scoffed at him.

"They could've tracked me here." He said throwing his legs over the bed, wincing at the pain.

"They didn't."

"You don't know that." He snapped at her.

She kept her calm. With a sigh she said. "I do."

His eyes narrowed. "Paris—"

"No." Her voice sharpened. "You don't get to decide for me."

A dangerous silence fell between them. She stood up out of the bed. Dex stood up despite the pain. Paris moved instinctively to steady him, hands landing against his chest.

Bad idea.

Because the second her palms touched him, Dex's control visibly cracked. His eyes darkened immediately. His hands slid to her waist before he could stop himself.

Warm. Possessive.

Paris felt her pulse spike.

"Dex. Sit.”

"You shouldn't want this." His voice sounded rough now. Fractured. "There's something wrong with me."

Paris laughed softly at that. Not mocking but sad.

"You think I haven't figured that out already?"

His grip tightened unconsciously.

"I break into your apartment."

"I left the window open for you."

"I watch you."

"Thank you. It makes me feel safe."

"I stole your underwear."

"You stole my favorite one. The black lace? Keep the others but I want that one back.."

Each confession sounded uglier coming out loud. Why wasn’t she disgusted. Running. Dex looked genuinely disturbed now.

She slightly pushed his chest back on the bed as he sat. His infuriation grew, curious about what she had to offer.

But Paris only stepped closer between his knees.

"You wanna know what’s actually scary?" she whispered. His jaw tightened. "I liked—no loved—every second of it."

Dex stared at her like she'd struck him. Paris reached up slowly, fingers brushing the scar along his face. "You looked at me," she admitted softly, "and saw something worth obsessing over."

Her thumb dragged lightly across his jaw.

"And I looked at you and realized..." Her voice lowered. "Finally. Someone who understands me."

Something in Dex's expression cracked open completely then. Terrified at the admission yet wanting more.

Paris climbed into his lap slowly, careful of the injuries wrapped around his torso. Dex inhaled sharply the second her thighs settled around his waist.

Every muscle in his body tightened at once. His hands gripped her instinctively now. Sliding up her thighs. Around her waist. Touching her like he was starving and afraid simultaneously.

Not sexual but reverent. Like he couldn't believe she was real. "You should be afraid of me," he whispered.

Paris leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "But I'm not."

His hands trembled slightly against her body. That undid her more than confidence ever could.

The realization hit him all at once. The books. The teasing. The way she never feared him.

She'd been inviting the obsession closer.

Dex looked genuinely shaken now.

Not by danger. By acceptance. Paris kissed him softly once. Then again.

Slow enough to hurt.

"You came to me bleeding," she whispered against his lips. "Out of every place in this city...you came here."

His hands tightened around her waist almost painfully. “Not Matt Murdock. Not Frank Castle. Me.”

"Because you're mine," he admitted before he could stop himself.

Paris smiled immediately. There it was. The truth. Not obsession anymore. Not stalking. Not fascination.

Something deeper. Belonging.

"And you're mine," she answered quietly.

The words destroyed whatever restraint Dex had left.

He kissed her hard enough to steal breath, hands sliding up her back like he needed to feel every inch of her at once. Paris melted into him instantly, fingers tangled in his hair while his forehead pressed against hers between kisses.

And somewhere underneath all the violence and obsession and twisted devotion—

They finally felt understood.

[diamondthedoll]

🖤💜𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓜𝓮💜🖤

Hi! My name is Diamond. (She/Her)

I am a Marvel/DC nerd. I love to read and write.

I am 24 years old ♑️

I want to start back writing on tumblr. I use to love it but life happens. Just want to get back into doing what I love! Feel free to help out with any ideas. I do only write for black women since I can only write as a black woman. Apologies in advance