sams relationship w bucky is wayyyyyy more tangled up in steve than buckys relationship w sam and if yall understood that maybe everything would be alright in the fandom
It has not escaped me how Dex mirrors the people he fixates on, and it's often revealed in his tone of voice or choice of words.
In s3 DD, he mirrored Julie for a little bit, but when he was working for Fisk, I noticed he took on Fisk's cadence. It's subtle, but it's there, in the way he says "we are not done".
In s2 DDBA, when he was on his "time to help matt (by killing fisk)!" bullshit, I noticed sometimes he leaned into Matt's tone of voice, to the point where their voices were blending in my head.
The few times he spoke in ways that didn't feel influenced by others, was when he was talking to Karen in that beautiful shirtless gun scene.
And not to promote my Dex fic, but he also regurgitate what other people say to appear more human, which is why in my fic I emphasized his desire for honesty, which derives not from his own self but from Dr. Mercer telling him from a young age "Be honest, we like honesty around here."
He learned honesty from Mercer but he never actually applied much honesty to his life because he was too busy pretending to be normal.
But what does honesty truly look like to Dex? Honesty is rarely words. It's an exchange of silence, it's violence, and it's admitting he likes violence.
I'm certain he feels like an animal, and that he's uncomfortable with it to some degree, which is why he asked Matt in DDBA S1 E8:
The most genuine he felt was actually when he wasn't speaking. That scene of him killing his copycat, with the wordless grunts and low chuckles. That right there is Dex.
i should’ve written about my pitt oc working this season’s shift since it’s literally the 4th of july. but in my defense i was watching today’s game w/family that came over
watching the langdon/dennis scene is so funny knowing that langdon is probably completely unaware that dennis is trinity's roommate. like bro don't try to be all buddy-buddy with him the dude literally resides in the home of your #1 hater
Football au | Footballer!Dex x PR manager!reader where you are assigned to media-train him.
TW workplace romance, obsessive/possessive Dex, stalking, suggestive locker room makeout, murder jokes. This is referring to what the Americans call soccer.
Dex is the most accurate striker the league has ever seen.
He’s not just clinical. Not just “good in front of goal.” No. He’s so accurate, it makes a lot of people uncomfortable.
He doesn’t shoot unless he already knows where the ball is going: Top corner. Bottom corner. Over the keeper’s shoulder. Under his arm. He scores penalties so perfectly the keeper doesn’t even dive, he just turns around like his career just flashed before his eyes.
Even free kicks bend like the ball is scared of disappointing him. First-time finishes look pre-planned. Through balls cut past defensive lines like an arrow.
His passing is even better because he does not pass unless he has decided, mathematically, that you deserve the ball. And when he does, it lands exactly where he meant it to. Commentators are always like, “That is frightening precision,” and the camera cuts to Dex looking completely dead behind the eyes.
So no, he does not just kick a football. He selects a target and executes.
The weirdest part to most people, is that Dex doesn’t even celebrate his goals.
Not because he is humble. But because what is he celebrating for?
It’s his job.
He scores, turns around, and walks back to the halfway line like he just filed paperwork. Everyone else is screaming. The stadium is shaking. His teammates are chasing him, trying to jump on his back and get him to celebrate, and Dex is just standing there, blank-faced, waiting for the match to restart.
Commentators hate it. Fans are obsessed with it. The club media team wants to die.
Because how are they supposed to market this man?
“Here is our star striker, Benjamin Poindexter. He has scored twenty-six goals this season and smiles once every three months.”
The club is exhausted.
They have tried everything: Media coaching, charity shoots with children, behind-the-scenes videos where he is supposed to seem approachable. It never works. He stands there and says the most mundane things in the most unsettling tone anyone has ever heard.
What is the club supposed to say?
“Our striker is a psychopath but at least he scores goals????”
C’mon.
And then the press conference incident happens.
Some journalist asks, “Dex, do you think people overstate your finishing ability because the team is built around giving you so many chances?”
And Dex just stares.
He should’ve said something flattering about his team and his manager, something like, “credit to the lads” or “our coaching staff is wonderful”
But no. Flat-faced, he says, “No. I think if your job is watching football and that’s what you saw, you should be embarrassed.”
The whole room goes silent.
It’s not even the rudest thing a footballer has ever said, because footballers say insane things all the time. It’s because Dex says it like he’s already decided where the journalist would be buried after he kills him.
So the club panics and assigns him to you.
You, the PR manager everyone loves. You, who can charm the press, calm agents down, make a scandal sound like a “miscommunication,” and somehow convince angry sponsors that Dex is “passionate” and “misunderstood” and “just very committed to the game.”
And Dex needs you. Badly.
After your first meeting, you start by printing off a list of safe answers:
“We take every game as it comes.”
“The boys worked hard.”
“I’m grateful for the support.”
“The manager has a plan and we trust it.”
“I don’t listen to outside noise.”
You even add notes:
Smile here.
Mention the team.
Do not stare for more than three seconds.
Do not correct the journalist unless I say you can.
Dex takes it way too seriously.
He practices in the mirror after training, still in his club tracksuit, hair damp from the shower, face empty, saying, “I’m proud of the boys,” like the boys are being held hostage off-camera.
Then the next press conference happens.
Reporter says, “Dex, how do you feel the team handled the pressure today?”
Dex leans into the microphone, dead-eyed and emotionless. “The boys worked hard.”
And you think, okay. Fine. He’s trying.
Reporter: “You scored twice today. Do you feel like you’re in the best form of your career?”
Dex glances at you, and you give him a tiny nod.
“We take every game as it comes.”
Okay. Robotic, but it’s okay, I guess.
Reporter: “There’s a lot of talk about the title race. Do you listen to outside noise?”
Dex pauses, as if trying to remember the sheet of paper you gave him. “I don’t listen to outside noise.”
See, technically, he’s doing it right. The answers are safe and no one can accuse him of being rude.
But he’s saying it like an assassin reading an insulting birthday card.
Then a journalist asks, “You seem calmer with the media lately. Has something changed?”
Dex looks directly at you. Directly. In front of everyone. And says, “I’ve been taught to behave.”
You facepalm so hard you nearly concuss yourself.
The journalists start typing like wolves.
Dex looks pleased because he thinks he nailed it.
So after that, you stop trusting the list and start practicing with him properly, in person. You sit across from him with your notebook while he sits there like a cat being taught not to scratch the scratching post.
“No, Dex. Less… murder-y.”
He tries again.
“No. I— why does that sound like more of a threat? Can you say it normally?”
He blinks. “That was normal.”
“It’s not.”
He tries again.
You teach him where to pause, when to smile, how long eye contact can last before it becomes a problem. How to say “credit to the team” without making it sound like the team owes him money.
You even physically stop him from answering “what went wrong in the first half?” with “our midfield kept making bad fucking decisions.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. But he cannot say that into six microphones.
After a while, Dex gets obsessed with you because you’re nice to him.
You’re not even fake-nice or club-mandated nice. You talk to him like he’s a person. Like his brain is strange, yes, but not broken beyond understanding.
One day, a reporter asks about his parents.
Dex freezes, because he has never been briefed on this yet. What the hell was he supposed to say?
Before Dex can answer, your voice cuts in, sweet as sugar.
“You don’t have to answer that.”
Oh?
You even smile at the reporter, “We’re keeping questions focused on the match today, thank you.”
You didn’t even flinch. You just stepped in front of the question like it was nothing.
So Dex fixates on you.
How could he not?
He watches your mouth when you explain things. He copies your tone. He stands perfectly still when you fix his collar before interviews.
You chuckle, “Relax.”
And his body listens to your command.
It becomes a problem. Especially when that stupid midfielder asks you out.
And he’s not even a good midfielder! Why the club even signed him is beyond Dex’s understanding.
Like, that’s the part that really makes Dex feel insane. The guy kills every counterattack by taking one extra touch. He sees a perfect run and passes backwards. He overhits simple balls. He cannot cross to save his life. Last game, he sent one so badly behind Dex that Dex had to stop in the box, turn around, and look at him like he was deciding whether murder was worth the red card.
That guy gets to go out with you?
Well. You keep saying it’s not a date. You say it’s just friendly drinks because you work with all of them and you are friends with all of them.
But Dex thinks you’re amazing. And he knows his teammate thinks that too, that creep. He knows he has a crush on you.
Ugh.
Dex feels sick.
So he follows you. Secretly, obviously. He tells himself it’s for safety reasons, which is fascinating because you are literally just sitting in a bar, laughing politely over a mojito, while Dex stands across the street in a hoodie, glaring through the window like a widowed mafia wife.
And then the midfielder kisses you goodnight. Not sweetly, and not in the way Dex has imagined kissing you, careful and shaking and half-ruined by wanting you so badly.
The idiot leans in like he’s earned it, and you push back almost immediately, startled and uncomfortable, because you thought this was friendly. You thought saying “not a date” had been clear enough.
And Dex remembers it forever.
Next match, he simply refuses to pass to him.
The midfielder makes run after run. Dex sees every single one. Of course he does. Dex sees everything. Dex could spot a gap in a backline during a thunderstorm with one eye closed. He could make that midfielder look brilliant if he wanted to.
He doesn’t want to.
The midfielder points. Dex ignores him.
The midfielder shouts. Dex turns the other way.
The midfielder is wide open in the box, practically begging for the easiest assist of Dex’s life, and Dex takes the shot from a worse angle and scores anyway.
The commentators call it confidence. The pundits call it hunger. The fans call it ice in his veins.
By the time the transfer window opens, Dex walks into the manager’s office and says, “He doesn’t fit the system,” talking about the midfielder, of course.
And what are they going to do? Upset the league’s most accurate finisher? Their star striker? The man who scored four goals in two games this week and made every single keeper look stupid?
Bye bye, stupid midfielder. Sold to a second-tier club for pennies.
Anyway.
With the only competition removed Dex starts making his moves.
He brings you coffee with your order memorised. He asks if you have eaten, like, every twenty minutes. He starts giving better interviews only when you are in the room, because he’s not really speaking to the press anymore.
He’s performing being good for you.
Then, after one press conference where he actually sounds almost charming, the club management praises him for finally learning how to handle the media.
Dex barely reacts.
He just waits until you are walking beside him in the corridor, away from the cameras and staff, then leans close enough that his shoulder touches yours.
“Did I do good?”
Oh. My. God.
Pathetic star striker. Six-foot-something nightmare of a man who can ruin an entire back line’s confidence forever, make world-class defenders second-guess every step, send keepers home questioning their career choices, and he’s still standing in front of his PR manager with those hazel eyes because if you don’t tell him he did good, he might actually die.
And he looks so earnest about it!! So hungry for it!!
It’s as if all the goals, all the chants, all the headlines mean nothing compared to you looking up at him and saying, “Yes, Dex. You did so well.”
His face changes. His shoulders drop. His eyes flick to your lips and stay there.
And sure, maybe you should step back.
No. Actually. Obviously, you should step back. He’s the club’s star striker. You are his PR manager. This is a bad idea. A terrible idea. A “you should know better” idea.
But then he says, almost embarrassed, “I like when you say it.”
And that’s it. You kiss him first, and you feel him freeze under your hands, all that frightening control going useless the second your mouth touches his.
Then he kisses you back like he has been waiting through every practice interview, every press conference, every time you fixed his collar and told him to breathe.
It’s not casual. It’s not smooth. It’s very Dex.
So of course it feels a little insane.
His hand finds your waist carefully at first. And then you make this tiny sound against his mouth, and when you don’t pull away, he presses harder, and suddenly the league’s most clinical finisher is backing you against the corridor wall like this is the only target he has ever been afraid to miss.
You whisper between kisses, “This is a bad idea.”
Dex kisses the edge of your jaw. “Yeah?”
“We work together,” you point out
He kisses you again, slower this time. “And that’s bad?” He asks, genuinely confused.
“It is,” you breathe, even though your hands are already in his hair. “Starting a relationship in the workplace is always bad.”
Dex pulls back just enough to look at you.
His mouth is wet, eyes are dark. He almost laughs in your face. “What are they gonna do, fire me?”
No, actually, they won’t.
Dex knows how valuable he is.
What are they going to do? Sack the man carrying them through a title race? Bench the striker who treats goalkeepers like training cones? Fine him for kissing the PR manager when he is the only reason half their sponsors are still smiling?
Ha! Of course not!
They are going to sigh and panic and schedule another meeting with HR. And Dex is going to score anyway.
So when he drags you into the empty locker room after the next match, you know you should really stop him.
You don’t.
Because he scored twice and still came off the pitch looking for you before anyone else. Because he stood under the floodlights with the whole stadium chanting his name and didn’t smile once until he saw you waiting near the tunnel.
The second the door shuts behind you, he is on you.
His hands are at your waist, your back, your hips, like he is trying to convince himself you’re real. He kisses you against the lockers with all that bottled-up focus, metal rattling behind you.
You tell him, “You were brilliant today.”
And Dex makes this ruined sound against your mouth.
You say it again, because now you know exactly what it does to him. “So good, Dex.”
His head drops to your shoulder as you both desperately and frantically take every piece of clothing off.
The lockers rattle again.
And yes, this is reckless. Yes, anyone could walk in. Yes, later you will have to fix your lipstick in the mirror while Dex stands behind you looking smug and so completely in love and the club owner has to pretend like he doesn’t know what’s going on.
But in the moment, all you can think about is him pressing you against cold metal, kissing you like winning meant nothing until he got to come back here and be with you.
Then the next week, he scores again.
And for once, he doesn’t just walk back to the halfway line.
For once, Dex celebrates.
The stadium goes wild. His teammates barely know what to do when Dex scores, turns, and points straight at you.
Like what else would he celebrate for?
The goal is his job.
You are the reward.
—end.
Note: Yes yes, I know I will eventually do a pro baseball Dex AU because that is literally his sport, but I have no idea how baseball works. I do know football, though. Also it’s the World Cup, so this is topical!!! Leave me alone 🫠🫠🫠I also lowkey am thinking about turning this into like my full-length Bucky football au fic. Thoughts?
This is also inspired by this variant cover of the upcoming Daredevil #4 by Geoff Shaw:
rafe a father in at least TWO readers’ lives, sarah gay, and john b does not wanna be a father but he is so scared of being like his dad he is overcorrecting. i love this island show
✦ introducing: (fem black) pitt princess!reader for THE PITT.
fairytales aren’t real— and yet, she’s a real life princess. loves megan thee stallion. short, well kept nails. whimsical. hidden tattoos. in on all the nurse gossip. unintentional charmer. undercover nerd. naturally nymph-coded. stubborn when offended. black barbie. doe eyes. a cutie more than baddie (but she has her moments). vinyl geek. small stud earrings.
pitt princess!reader!
✦ pitt princess!reader whose love language with those older than her includes ragebaiting. robinavitch is the easiest and most frequent target for her, but that doesn’t mean she won’t go after mckay or langdon, too. nothing in the world is quite as amusing as michael pinching down his nose as soon as he spots her beelining towards him.
✦ pitt princess!reader who’s a 2nd year resident (as of season two) just like trinity santos. in fact, they went to the same college! she lives in an apartment alone, however, in a different complex than santos. it’s a little closer to the hospital, and filled mostly with senior tenants.
✦ pitt princess!reader who bonds with mel over megan thee stallion. they talk about her often and send instagram posts and tiktoks concerning her back and forth every day. they have a strong tiktok streak due to the amount of edits they trade. it’s almost a game to try and find edits that the other person hasn’t already seen.
✦ pitt princess!reader who was dr. collins’ apprentice until she left the pitt. it’s odd, not having an immediate mentor. robby’s there, of course, and he even promised dr. collins that he’d take care of you, but it’s not the same by a long shot. the closest person she has in place of dr. collins is dana.
✦ pitt princess!reader who always keeps her nails done in accordance to hospital policies: neat, short, no gel or acrylics, and never chipped. there’s a subtle (and unappreciated, she thinks) dedication that comes with painting your nails as a doctor. the moment they’re chipped, all the paint has to be redone!
✦ pitt princess!reader and dennis, who has the teensiest tiniest crush on her. he’s always liked his partners older, even if it is only by a year or so… the experience gap just gets him going, for whatever reason. him complimenting her on getting joy to open up. he tries to be smooth, but trinity always calls him out.
✦ pitt princess!reader who, outside of work, loves a good perfume. light, fruity, clean scents are always going to be in style for her. anything that makes her feel like a springtime goddess is an automatic yes!
✦ pitt princess!reader who has an unrequited(?) hallway crush on parker ellis. the whole night crew, in fact, count as hallway crushes for her, but there’s something in particular about dr. ellis that leaves her with butterflies in her stomach. suddenly she’s back at her first pride ever and she’s overwhelmed by how hot the women around her are.
✦ pitt princess!reader who loves posting and reposting things on instagram. yes, she runs her close friends story like the navy. yes, she has a spam account. yes, she has an even stricter close friends story on her spam account. putting a song that matches her mood best as her note and choosing the perfect snippet for her stories is more than an art to her, it’s a science. also, she has a reaction picture for every situation on the planet.
✦ pitt princess!reader who was told by robby to “play nice” with his temporary replacement, dr. al-hashimi. it isn’t hard to do, considering how pretty baran is. the older woman’s mature and decisive while still offering pitt princess!reader plenty of opportunities to shine on cases. sure, robby, she’ll play nice; maybe even too nice!
✦ victoria loves to work cases with pitt princess!reader. they discreetly nerd out over online fandom stuff together. when cassie, victoria, and pitt princess!reader are all in one room, it’s always an interesting time. once, cassie referred to them both as “her girls” and the two have been chasing that high ever since.
✦ pitt princess!reader who turns cold and distant when offended or upset with someone. she can hold a grudge for years (don’t ask her about sixth grade unless you want to hear a mouthful on it). robby’s been on the receiving end of this a few times, and it’s never pretty. it’s more passive aggressive than anything considering she doesn’t want to be completely unprofessional in the workplace, but it still stings.
✦ this reader is: open to requests & paired with anyone atm / works can be found under #pitt princess!reader ✦ the pitt!
FINALLY got around to fleshing this reader out some more and recycling headcanons into a formal background post. i thought it would be cute if she was a naturally flirtatious/charming cutie pie. what hair style she has is up to your imagination. same with her heritage (whether she's african american or an immigrant or a 2nd gen etc). + here's my current masterlist!
