bf!dex who puts himself to sleep by eating the soul out of you. he swears he doesn't need medication or any other clinical method to silence the overwhelming thoughts that insist on keeping him up at night, that's why he has youâand that sweet pussy of yours, of course.
he'll go down on you almost nightly if you let him, thick fingers stuffed knuckle deep inside you and curling repeatedly against that sweet spot of yours that he recently found out makes stars explode behing your eyelids, eager mouth blabbering nonsense into your pussy the whole time.
he can make you come more than three times with his tongue and fingers onlyâthe most he has ever achieved without you threatening to pass out beneath himâand probably won't even register your tiny whimpers of "dex, that's enough" until you start kicking and pushing at his shoulders, forcing him to break away from the mess he made between your legs.
he'll climb back on top of you with the most relaxed expression you've ever seen on his face, eyelids heavy already and chin dripping with your arousal. dex drops his head to your chest then, humming a sound similar to a content little cat, then proceeds to sleep like a baby for the rest of the nightâsnoring and everything.
Do not trust people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people
raw. deep. messy. wet. backwards. against the table. against the wall. against the window, infront of a mirror. on the bed. on the kitchen counter. on the couch. on the floor. in the bath.
pairing: benjamin âdexâ poindexter x fem!reader
cw: 18+ mdni!!, smut, lowkey implied reader is plus size, smoking, obsessive behavior, panty stealing, stalking, possessiveness, angst(?), teasing, marking, pet names, slight switch!dex, fingering, oral sex (receiving), brief handjob, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, (rushed) aftercare, no use of y/n
a/n: i started writing this like a year ago after the first season of dd:ba specifically bc of this edit of dex but season 2 had us eating reallll good so i needed to run it back lmao. itâs been a while since iâve posted anything so pls be kind! feedback is appreciated!!
Tuesday
The city that never sleeps seemed alive more than ever tonight. The sound of choppers flying overhead pass by Dexâs building, accompanied by the wailing of sirens scattered across the borough.
Dex sat in front of the large window in the living room. The soft glow of the TV is the only thing illuminating the room as Dex had remained glued to his post since the sun went down, just watching.
Watching you.
You sat on your fire escape, your phone held up to your ear in one hand while the other rolled the filter of the cigarette you were smoking between your fingers. You put the extinguished cigarette in the ashtray you had seated on the windowsill next to you and begin to reach for the pack for another, just to realize itâs empty. You curse to yourself, then climb through the window back into your apartment.
A smile creeps onto Dexâs face watching you grab a hoodie off your bedpost before jumping into a pair of sweatpants. You leave your apartment, and Dex loses sight of you momentarily.
In this time, Dex exits his own commandeered unit, but stays to the shadows once heâs out on the street, keeping out of your eyesight as you leave your building.
Dex waits until you enter the deli on the corner before he crosses the street and hoists himself up onto your fire escape with a practiced ease.
He finds the window to your apartment left wide open and climbs through it himself. Dex looks around your bedroom, seeing the familiar grey sheets hazardously thrown across the bed from when you overslept this morning, leaving it unmade. Carefully making his way around your room, he stops at your vanity, examining the new pictures you have stuck to the mirror alongside the old ones Dex has already seen before.
As he reaches for the closet doors, he stops in his tracks when a piece of blue fabric lying on the floor catches his eye. He bunches the soft lace-lined cotton material between his fingers as he brings it to his nose, deeply inhaling your scent. Dex clenches his jaw and balls up his fists even tighter, feeling the primal urges stirring deep within him.
He hears your voice from the other side of the front door, still talking on the phone as you shove your key into the lock. Dex stuffs your panties into his pocket before he leaves the same way he came in.
Thursday
Dex has been staring into the dark window of your apartment for an hour now.
With a few errands of his own to run earlier, Dex couldnât follow you to work or even drop by your office building to watch you have lunch at your desk today. But having your work schedule memorized, he knows you should be home by now.
Your bedroom window was wide open yet again, and it beckoned Dex across the street like a sirenâs song.
He ignores every rational thought that screams at him not to as he crosses the short distance from his side of the street to yours.
Climbing through your window, Dexâs eyes quickly adjust to the darkness of the room, looking around to see no one in sight. He instead finds a trail of clothes leading out of the room like breadcrumbs down the hallway, where he sees a sliver of light peaking through the bathroom door.
You are home.
Instead of turning around like he told himself he shouldâve, Dex continues to follow the sound of the shower running, carefully making his way down the hall. Right outside the bathroom lies another pair of discarded panties. Itâs nearly instinctual now for him to bend down and pick them up to add to his growing collection in his bedside drawer back at his apartment.
With the bathroom door left slightly ajar, Dex nudges it gently, further opening it for him to look inside.
You were obstructed behind the glass from the condensation clinging to the shower door, but heâs still able to make out the suds of soap cascading down your body as you bathe yourself. Standing under the stream of warm water, he can visibly see the tension dissipating from your shoulders. Your body wash clings to the humidity of the small space, enticing Dex further into the bathroom. His hands itch to touch you, wishing they were running all over you instead of your own.
Dex nearly reaches for the shower door handle when he hears the sound of your phone ringing from your bedroom, breaking him out of his trance.
He retreats back to your room to find your phone charging on your dresser, lit up with a call from your father. You must be speaking to him again. Dex watches the call go to voicemail before he picks up your phone and unlocks it. He smiles to himself. Of course, your passcode remains the same even after all this time.
After looking through your messages and finding nothing exciting among the threads with your coworkers, Dex swipes open your camera roll to see the recent food youâve been eating, the bars youâve been frequenting, and the friends youâve been hanging out with.
âYou couldâve used the door, you know.â
Too distracted catching himself up on your life, Dex didnât hear the shower shut off. Nor did he hear your footsteps enter the room.
âYou know where I usually leave the key,â you say.
This was an issue Dex kept having with youâhe let his guard down.
Dex looks to see you illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window. Youâre only clad in a towel with your arms crossed over your chest, looking at him like he were a child caught with his hand in the candy jar. He feels the blood draining from his face and remains frozen in the shadows.
âI should go,â is all he says as he begins to back away toward the window.
âWhy even come at all then?â You stop him before he can leave again.
A beat of silence passes before Dex admits, âI needed to.â
You reach over to flip on the light switch.
âDonât.â Dex switches the lamp off before you could get a good look at his face. But you ignore his warning and turn the light back on.
Dex canât tear his eyes away from yours as you approach, worried about what they might tell him once you see him up close. But all they hold is sorrow; the sight of the fully healed scar across his cheek breaks your heart all over again.
âOh, Ben.â You caress his face gently, and he immediately leans into your touch.
Dex caves in, pulling you into his arms and locking you into a tight hug like someone would come and rip you away from him. âI needed to see you,â he mumbles into your hair.
âSeems like youâve been seeing me just fine,â you say, nodding toward the open window that faces his apartment.
He opens his mouth to question how you couldâve known, but you beat him to it.
âAfter hearing about an inmate escaping from Rikerâs merely hours before an attempt is made on the mayorâs life by a sniper, it was pretty easy to figure out whose prying eyes have been watching from across the street.â You know him all too wellâit kinda scares him. âI missed you, too,â you peck his lips.
One kiss was all it took for his entire resolve to break.
Dex flattens his hands against your spine to pull you in for a kiss again. Your lips meet in a hungry, needy clash of tongues, making your knees nearly buckle.
You only pull away when you feel your towel loosen around your body, threatening to unravel.
âWanna let me get some clothes on?â you ask between giggles, attempting to pull away from Dex as you readjust.
âWhy would I wanna do that?â he barely budges, firmly keeping you flush against his chest.
âIâm still very much naked under this.â you raise a brow.
âAnd youâre still wearing too much if you ask me,â he lowers his head to your neck, letting the faint scent of shea butter lingering on your skin flood his senses. But then Dex feels the uneven skitter of your pulse when he softly presses his lips to your jugular.
âWhat is it?â Dex asks, searching for an answer in your eyes. He can read you as well as his favorite book; thereâs not much you could hide from him if you really tried.
âA lot can change in a year,â is all you say.
He certainly did.
Dex was fit before, but heâs practically doubled in size. The thin material of his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves contouring his bulging biceps, while his sweatpants hang low on his hips, hugging his deliciously thick thighs.
âI can see,â Dex grins, sliding his hand down to your lower back, âYou somehow got more beautiful,â he tells you, planting a kiss on your cheek.
You involuntarily roll your eyes, âyouâre just saying that,â you mutter.
âOh am I now?â Dexâs brows stitch together incredulously, âI kinda find that hard to believe when that new coworker of yours tries to find every excuse under the sun just to come and talk to you. He spends more time leaning in the doorway of your office than he does at his own desk.â
You laugh. How long has he been watching?
âBrianâs just a friend.â
âDoesnât change the fact that Iâve seen how he looks at you. I mean, he was practically drooling when you came in yesterday wearing that baby blue dress.â Itâs not like Dex could forget, even if he wanted toâit took everything in him not to put a bullet between Brianâs eyes as he walked to his car after clocking out.
âA lot can change in a year but what I feel about you hasnât.â Dex says, âUnless itâs how you feel about me thatâs changed,â you can visibly see the worry weighing on his shoulders.
âI wouldnât have left the window open for you all these nights if it had,â you smile.
Dex kisses you again, but this time softerâslower. He gently cups your face, deepening the kiss as you crane your neck. Dex runs his tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the minty mouthwash you had rinsed with before you found him in your room.
Your hands travel up his chest, and it intimidates you a bit, feeling the difference in his size from the last time you saw himâfelt him. Dex lowers himself to grab the back of your thighs and hoists you off the ground in one swift motion. You gasp into his mouth, feeling your feet leave the ground, and grab onto Dexâs shoulders. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you grab his face eagerly accepting.
Dex takes his time walking over to your bed like he wanted you to savor every moment just as he was.
He sits down at the edge of your bed with you straddling his lap without breaking the kiss. You only part from his lips to catch your breath. Dex chases after your lips, desperate for more, forgetting he needed to breathe himself. He opens his eyes to find you looking at him.
You run a hand through his hair, slightly tugging his head back. Dexâs low-lidded lashes flutter as he grips the soft plush on your thighs, trying to fight those primal urges yet again. Heâs waited this long to have you in his arms again; he didnât want to rush this moment with you.
âMy beautiful, beautiful angel,â Dex mutters as he drags you by your thighs higher up on his lap, seating you right on top of the bulge tenting his pants.
He begins littering kisses across your chest, and you arch into his touch.
âDex,â you sigh, carding your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.
âYeah?â he lowly draws out.
âTouch me.â
âI am,â he laughs.
âDonât be such fucking tease. Not now, been too long,â the second half of that sentence came out as a whine.
Dex slides his hand under your towel, carefully dragging his hand across the skin of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.
âLike this you mean?â he spreads your folds, softly petting your clit.
Dex slips two of his fingers inside of you, musing as he watches your face contort with pleasure. He languidly curled his fingers inside of you, moving at a slow come-hither motion as your hips begin to rock against his hand.
He croons, feeling your warm, wet walls open up for him. Dex keeps his eyes locked on you as you desperately grind against his hands, wishing heâd move his fingers. But Dex knows thatâd be too easy. He knows your body too well; he could definitely make you cum with his hands tied behind his back.
âThatâs it, pretty girl, get yourself off for me.â his arm flexes with each gentle stroke of his digits against your gummy walls.
âDex, please,â You desperately whine as he pulls his fingers away just enough to stay gloved by your pussy but just missing that sweet spot inside of you.
He finally gave in to your pleas and sank his fingers the rest of the way until his middle and ring fingers were knuckle deep inside of you.
You buried your head into Dexâs shoulder as you gush onto his hand. Dex slowly pumps his fingers, hitting that soft spongy spot inside of you every time. You grab onto his arm, gently digging your nails into his skin as you feel yourself get closer to coming.
He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tight, calculated circles, and you cling to Dexâs shoulders tighter. He flips you onto the bed, lying you down while keeping his fingers buried inside of you.
His eyes stay trained on your face as he hovers over you.
âCome on, sweetheart,â Dex whispers in your ear, âWanna feel your pretty pussy cum for me.â You feel him smile against your skin as your hips rise from the bed, chasing after that high. Your back arches and your thighs tremble. Your walls spasm around Dexâs fingers as they ferociously fuck you through your orgasm. The harmony of your whiny moans and obscene, slick squelching from between your legs filled Dexâs ears euphoniously. He basks in your beautiful sounds.
Your fingers wrapping around his wrist gets Dex to slow down before he slips his wet fingers out of your heat. Dex examines his glistening fingers as they catch the moonlight, coated with your arousal, before bringing them to his mouth and licking your juices clean off his hand.
âGod, Iâve missed the taste of you,â he says before lowering his head to your neck, softly licking and nipping your skin between his teeth. Dex presses open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as he inches a hand up your thigh, pushing your towel open further. His hand continues the rest of the way up your body, until the rest of the towel unravels.
Dex sits back on his haunches, taking in your bare figure laid out before him like a gift he just unwrapped, and runs a hand through his hair.
As Dexâs eyes slowly drink you in, you were suddenly hyper aware of how exposed you feel while he was still fully clothed. You attempt to re-cover yourself, but Dex stops you by pinning your arms to the mattress beside your head.
âOh, darling, donât go trying to hide from me now,â he darkly smiles. Dex begins to make his way down your body, alternating between soft kisses and love bites.
He releases your arms to let his hands roam all over you, groping and kneading every part of your body. His calloused hands cupped your breasts, humming in delight as he welcomed the weight of them in his hands.
Dex buries his face between the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking your skin to leave red splotches that would blossom into purple bruises. Dex was careful of where he placed them, making sure youâd just barely be able to hide them; only visible to those staring hard at your cleavageâlike a certain coworker of yours.
He rolls his thumbs over your pearled nipples, tweaking them between his deft fingers. You yelp, nearly grinding your hips against his clothed thigh.
Dex settles between your legs, shouldering them wider apart to make room for his broad frame. He kisses each of your thighs, directing them over his shoulders. Without hesitation, he laps at your folds, tasting the remnants of your previous orgasm. Dex hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to his face, burying his head deeper into your pussy. Your legs threaten to close around his head, the skin of your inner thighs scratching the stubble on his cheeks. But Dexâs arms barely budged, keeping you right where he wanted you.
Dex closed his eyes, losing himself in the taste of you on his tongue, gushing into his mouth like a never-ending fountain.
You could feel the growing wetness sticking to your thighs as Dexâs drool mixes with your slick, making a mess of the sheets below you. Dex brings his free hand between your legs, spreading your lips to tongue your labia.
His tongue weasels inside of you, and his nose bumps your clit, making you buck your hips against his mouth. Dex flattens one of his arms across your stomach, pinning you back to the bed. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, not because you wanted him to let go but to get him to exert more of his strength. You mewl, your head spinning as he keeps you locked in this position.
âFuck, babyâyouâre gonna make me cum again,â you moan. Your fingers comb through his hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp as you grip onto his dirty blonde locks.
Dex growls back in response, hungrily sucking on your clit. His tongue worked relentlessly, languidly swirling the bundle of nerves in his mouth. You cried out Dexâs name and roughly pulled on his hair, making him groan into your mound. The vibrations from his mouth send jolts of electricity up your spine, and your toes curl.
Your upper body flailed and jerked as your lower half was kept pressed against the mattress. Dex lapped up your cum, gladly drinking down your release until he felt the tense quiver of your thighs around his ears.
Dex sits up, and you look at him through your lashes, the lower half of his face wet with your juices. You watch as he licks his lips and wipes his mouth of your essence before he grabs the back of his shirt and tears it off over his head.
Your eyes run down the expanse of his chest to his defined abdomen, flexing with every slow breath he takes. You watch the muscles in his arms ripple under his skin as he begins to push his sweatpants down his hips.
Fuck me.
Dex looks up at you and laughs, âIâm getting there, sweetheart. Mind a little patience?â
Fuck, you said that out loud. No backing down now.
You slide off the bed and stand in front of him, âIâve been patient enough, Poindexter, donât you think?â You grab the waistband of his boxers and pull him close.
Dex brings his lips to yours, and your hands push his boxers down his thighs, freeing his dick from its confines. You take him into your hand, making him moan into your mouth. You run your thumb over the leaky slit, smearing his precum over his shaft. You twist and jerk your wrist as Dex throws his head back, giving you access to his neck. You lick a stripe up the side of his throat before tugging his earlobe between your teeth. You softly litter kisses across his neck before you return the favor and suck a bruise above his Adamâs apple.
âFuck,â Dex sighs as he rocks his hips into your hand. He picks you up once again, guiding your legs around his waist. âI need to be inside of you,â Dex mutters against your neck, âneed to feel you,â he says as he climbs onto your bed with you still clinging onto him like a sloth hanging on a tree branch. Dex sits with you in his lap, resting his cock between your wet folds. You reach between your bodies to take his cock into your hand again, rising out of his lap to guide his tip to your sopping core.
You bite your bottom lip as you feel the blunt head of his cock pushing into you. Dex roughly grunts, taking hold of your hips in both hands, trying to keep himself from slamming you down onto his lap in one go.
âAttagirl,â Dex deeply sighs, âjust take it easy,â he soothingly rubs your back. His eyes fall to where your bodies connect, watching the way your pussy slowly sucks his cock the rest of the way in.
Your eyes screw shut as you drop your forehead to rest against his, feeling him fully sheathed inside of your warm cunt.
Dex wraps his arm around you, wanting to feel impossibly close to you. But even balls deep inside of you wasnât enough for himâhe wanted more. More of you.
âHoly shit, you fit around me just so perfectly,â his voice reverberates in your ear, âItâs like you were made for me.â
You hum in agreement, moving your legs from beneath you to flatten your feet on the bed and grab onto his neck.
âJust for you,â you tell him as you roll your hips.
Dex drops his hand to your lower back, letting you set the pace. You lean back, resting a hand on his thigh behind you to steady yourself as you rock your hips.
âThatâs it, angel, take what you need," he rasps. "I'm all yours to use," he tells you. You moan at his words, throwing your head back with a lustful smile. You bring your lips back to Dexâs, and he swallows your sensual whimpers and cries.
You push him back onto the mattress, and his hands on your waist move south to cup your ass as Dex angles his hips up into yours. The tip of his cock easily finds your sweet spot, and you cling onto him once more. You let Dex take control, thrusting up into you at a fasterâmore desperate rhythm.
âOh god, Ben, please,â you pant.
A deep growl rumbles in his chest. He slides his hands up your back, locking you into a bear hug as his thighs flex beneath you with every thrust of his hips. Your breathy whines and broken moans fill Dexâs ears while his cock repeatedly bullies your g-spot.
A smile spreads across Dexâs face as he watches you completely lose yourself on his cock. He pushes you back onto the bed, never slipping out of you as he fucks you into the mattress. He hooks an arm beneath your hips, spearing into you while using his other hand to press his thumb to your clit.
âGod, youâre so wet. I can feel how close you are from the way youâre soaking me,â he says, reveling in the way your pussy pulses around him.
âMâso closeâŚfill me up so goodâfeels so fucking good,â you slur.
A guttural moan rips from your throat, and your hips desperately buck into Dexâs. Your walls clamp around him as you cum. Dex nearly cums himself and quickly pulls out of you, making you whine from the sudden loss of contact.
He doesnât leave you untouched for long, however, with his hand finding its way between your thighs once again, slipping his fingers back inside of you. You shoot upright and grab onto Dexâs arm, closing your legs around his hand.
âDex, itâs too much please. I canât-â tears pricked your eyes, feeling overstimulated.
âOh but I know you can, darling. Need you to stay wet and ready for me.â Dex says like it takes much for you when it comes to him anyway.
Dex stands before you can process the emptiness his hand leaves you with. He wraps an arm around your middle, manhandling you onto your knees at the edge of the bed. Your head spins from having him toss you around like a ragdoll.
Dex brings his cock back to your slit, gently tapping your clit with his cockhead, and you fall back against his chest. Dex pushes inside of you, enrapturing you once again. He grunts deeply, letting his breath fan over your shoulder, feeling the way your warm, wet walls open up just for him. His lips press languid kisses up the back of your neck as he holds you there, not movingâjust leaving his cock buried deep inside of you. You try to move your hips with his tip curving deliciously into your sweet spot, but Dex tightens his hold on you, restricting your movements.
âJust look at yourself,â he gently grabbed your face and directed your eyes to the mirror across from your bed by the window. The same mirror Dex would watch you stand in front of for half an hour, contemplating your outfits. Looking at your reflection, your lower stomach pools with arousal, seeing the scene before you. Dex slowly draws his hips back, just barely leaving his tip inside of you before filling you up again, making you shudder. âMy precious angel, so needy, all fucked out. All just for me,â he says lowly in your ear.
Dex hugs your shoulders, and you feel his bicep nearly close around your neck every time his arm flexes as he thrusts into you. You werenât worried heâd hurt you, though he was fully capable of doing so in this position. Your hands rest on his forearm, but you donât stop him, and just roll your head back onto his shoulder.
âIâm so close, baby, please donât stop,â you reach behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair, âWanna cum againâwanna cum with you.â
His eyes were glued to your reflection in the mirror, intensely watching you as you fall apart. Dexâs arm around your waist pulls you back onto his cock, hitting that sweet spot inside you with such precision every time he bottoms out.
âNeed me to fill you up?â he asks, and you slowly nod. âGonna stuff you so full of my cum youâre gonna be dripping for days afterwards. Brian wonât have a doubt in his mind who you belong to then,â your velvety walls flutter around Dex, and he laughs. âOh, you like the sound of that, huh? What a fucking tease you are.â
Dexâs hand reaches down to your puffy clit, pinching the sensitive bud between his fingers. Your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train, and you see stars. Dex continues to pump his cock into you, his hips stuttering as he feels the damn begin to break inside of him. Dex sharply pounded into you, the skin of your ass roughly slapping against his lower stomach.
If Dex still wasnât holding you, you wouldâve fallen forward face first onto the mattress, your legs unable to hold you up as you cum for the fourth time tonight. Warm ropes of Dexâs cum coat your inner walls in white. You quietly chanted his name, your mind growing hazy, only able to think of the man wrapped around you. Dex leaves kisses on your shoulder as his dick begins to soften, and he slowly eases out of you.
Dex hooks an arm beneath your thighs, effortlessly scooping you up bridal style. You settle in his arms, circling your own around his neck as you kiss him.
âBen-â
He interrupts you because he doesnât need to hear you say it. âI know,â and he passionately kisses you.
Not wanting to let you go, Dex carries you out of your bedroom to the bathroom. He sits you on the bathroom counter, starting up the shower before opening the door to step inside. He holds his hand out for you, which you quickly accept, allowing him to pull you into the shower with him.
After your second shower of the night, you were finally able to dress yourself in one of Dexâs old Quantico shirts and now lay with your head on his chest.
The sounds of the city coming in through the window were drowned out by the sounds of Dexâs heartbeat in your ears. You feel him trace spiraling shapes on your skin with the tip of his fingers.
He breaks the comfortable silence to ask, âWhen did you start smoking again?â
âFew weeks after you were indicted. Itâs a good distraction,â you answer, gently stroking the blonde hairs on his chest.
âItâs not good for you,â Dex says, but you can hear the hint of amusement in his tone.
You lift your head to look at him, âWhen has that stopped me?â
a/n: thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed <33 feedback is appreciated!!
your taunt was meant to be cruel, edged with a secret clark guarded with his every being. his face contorts in frustration, annoyance ebbing deep within him. his body remained bowed above you, trembling with effort when you deliberately shifted.
his hips jerk involuntarily, tip of his cock grazing your clit, throbbing and aching from having been blue-balled. "don'tâŚsay that." you release a shuddering breath as his thumb comes down to your sensitive bud. you jump at the rough callouses, rubbing against it hard.
your gaze snaps up, catching the conflicted look paint his expression, mirroring one of your own when he withdraws completely from you without breaking eye-contact. clark lifts you, a motion that was effortless as he carries you toward the bed. the tense, impulsive air from earlier â wanting to fuck each other so bad that you'd both been on the floor, had been promptly broken, replaced with clark's much more competitiveness and determination to prove you wrong.
he doesn't immediately re-enter you as he lowers you onto the unmade bed. instead, he kneels between your parted thighs. warmer, bigger palms slide up the plush fat, tightening in a painful intensity as he tugs you abruptly to the edge. it knocks the breath completely out of you.
his thumb skirts at the edge of your inner thighs where you were slick with arousal. the silence felt much more unnerving than his usual show of poutiness. "...clark?"
clark leans down, replacing the pads of his thumb on your inner thighs with his mouth. you jump at the press of his lips, followed by the sharp nip of his teeth on the sensitive skin. he works his way upward, holding you still against the mattress.
it's agonising. all of it. his slow explorative touches, all the hot, wet kisses everywhere but where you needed it the most. he's somehow managed to park his own aching need, painfully bobbing against his own abdomen â with the intentional dragging out of your pleasure.
you wince when his gaze meets yours. they aren't unkind, but they're glazed with a new teasing glint you hadn't quite seen from clark yet.
"claaarkâŚquit teasingâŚ"
your sweet plea echoes in the room, and you feel a low, approving hum vibrate against your skin. as though he'd been waiting for you to get the taste of what you'd deprived him of. his mouth wraps around your pussy without further teasing. tongue flattened, pressing a firm and relentless pressure. your back arches off the bed, though restricted with a possessive hold pushing them back down onto the duvet.
"f-fuck! cla â hhrk. don't â stop!"
clark's palm slides up your belly, moving upward to cup your warm, sweat-slick breasts. he squeezes the softness as his tongue works your pussy. dipping in and out of your tight walls and up to your clit. his mouth was just so fucking big that it felt like he was everywhere around you.
helplessly, you buck into clark's mouth, rocking and grinding into the gentle curve of his nose. whimpering incoherently at the assault of his wet, insistent tongue curling to the roof of your cunt.
he knows when you're close. and he sucks your bud hard, the sound wet and obscene in the room, "a-ah fuck! gonna cum. g'na cum!"
clark's acknowledgment rumbles riiight against your clit. he feels the telltale sign of your orgasm as you pulse on his tongue. broken cries spill from your throat as you cum hard, thighs quivering with how clark refused to relent, drawing out every last drop of your slick until you're a trembling puddle beneath him, with an arm strewn over your eyes as you finally come down from the high.
the mattress dips at the shift of his weight, the shadow casting over you ominously just as you think it's over.
he looks to you, desperate and broken, unable to curb his own need. you feel him pry your arm away from your face, "gonna put it in okay? hm?"
you barely get to protest as he positions himself at your entrance. offering you enough time for refusal or hesitation. but the needy look of his gaze was enough for your body to act in compliance. you slide your palm past your navel, to the folds of your cunt, parting it wider for him to see the eager pulse.
a low broken groan rumbles in clark's throat at the sight, the quiet invitation being all he needed. he enters you in a deep thrust, accentuated with a jerk of his hips. you both gasp simultaneously, the overwhelming full feeling coming so soon after your earlier orgasm has you tightening deliciously around his cock.
"mmhâŚbaby you need t'relax," he chokes, enforcing his iron will to make good on his unspoken promise to make sure you feel like he fucked you.
he wanted you to feel him even days after, and that determination was enough for him to keep a languid pace, designed to draw out your pleasure.
and god, it had. each stroke of his girthy cock in your walls, the creamy, slick that made it so much easier for him to fuck your pussy in shallow thrusts. the sounds alone were making your belly churn with need, let alone that sweet spot he hit over and over again.
your palms come up to rest at his abdomen, each thrust making you go dumb, incoherent babbles spilling from your lips. his body remains a fortress. the muscles in his arms tensed and reddened, back rigid and strained with every fiber of him taut.
"s'tooâŚmuch!" you squeak, weakly pawing at him, in attempt to push him.
clark catches your hands, lacing his own fingers with yours with a single palm, pinning them gently above your head with a pressure that offered you escape if you wished. he keeps at the pace, brows knit in focus.
"i-i can't anymore."
he merely tuts softly at your breathless whisper, clearly having lost all the fight from your earlier taunts. he sees the truth in your words, the trembling or your thighs and blissed out look in your eyes. but he shakes his head, voice low and equally pleading.
"yesâŚyou can."
"claaaaarkâŚ" you whine softly as he guides your limp arms over his shoulders, cupping one of your palms flush against his fever-hot cheeks.
"i'm getting realâŚreal close baby," his voice cracks for a second, "can you hold on? f'me?" through laboured pants, he continues grinding and circling his cock into your cunt.
you pulse around him with another, drawn out whine. dragging your nails down his damp, strained biceps. when you offer a weak nod, the bed creaks louder. whispered curses were quickly swallowed when he shifts his angle a tad, hitting a spot in you that made your vision blur.
"fuck! t-there", you gasp sharply, fingers digging into his muscles. you nod hastily, unsure at even what â the insistent probe of his cock in that gummy spot deep within you sent shockwaves through your entire body. pushing you into another, white hot peak. the bed frames only continue scream louder under the relentless motion he keeps up.
"here?" he pants, gaze unfocused as he tilts his body to support his weight, with his forearm against the duvet to keep the angle.
"FUCK, yes! there, there â thâah!"
your pussy gushes around him with no further warning, fluttering hard along his length as you cum again. a ragged grunt resonates against the side of your head, followed by clark's growls. his hips bucks wildly, body shuddering as he coats your insides deep with spurts of his thick spend.
the force of his very last thrust elicits a screeching crack of the bed frames, and you both drop hard.
the two of you briefly look at each other in a bewildered surprise and synchronised breathing, and you finally break the intense haze.
"shit." you croak, voice hoarse in its delivery.
clark lets out a huff, rolling to his side and taking you with him so you're nestled against his chest instead of being crushed beneath him as he slump.
Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures (ONE SHOT)
Benjamin Poindexter x Reader
TAGS/WARNINGS: none
Synopsis: You find out that Dex is Bullseye and ask for some space while you mull things over. Dex cannot handle space, he needs you. And so? He begs.
âNo, nonono, please-â Dex is moving towards you, eyes desperately searching yours, hands reaching for you. âPlease, I can fix this, just let me fix this-â
âDex,â Your eyes fall shut and youâre pinching the bridge of your nose, exhaustion evident. This is unbelievably overwhelming and fuckâs sake, you just need to be alone so you can think clearly.
âBaby, please,â Heâs pleading with you, moving from the chair heâs been sitting in for the last thirty minutes so he can try to stand in front of you but you hold your hand out to stop him.
âDex, stop, please, I canât do this right now,â Thereâs an edge to your voice, frustration painfully evident as you move to turn away your boyfriend. Was he that still? You honestly werenât sure anymore.
âY/N, please,â he sounds desperate, eyes wide with panic, breathing laboured as he continues to try and station himself in front of you. Heâd spent the better part of the hour explaining that he was, in fact, the masked killer Bullseye.
Heâd been tucked into your living room chair, palms pressed flat to his knees as he explained, in detail, what his second life was like. Youâd stood there, arms crossed, body rigid, as you mulled over what your boyfriend had told you.
So not only had he hid a secret identity from you, but he was also, essentially, a villain.
Great.
And the worst part? It made so much god damn sense. How had you not seen it? Were you really that fucking blind? Or had you hoped, prayed, that youâd finally been dating a good, decent man?
You knew that Dex had killed, yes-he was in the FBI, of course heâd had to. But killing out of necessity was very different than a criminal paying you because they put a hit on someone. The late nights, irregular bruising and body aches made so much more sense now. Yes, some part of you figured he was doing vigilante work but this wasnât vigilant work.
It was straight up immoral.
Dex had tried to keep this a secret. He hadnât wanted to, but this had been so good. He had been so good. He liked this relationship, had fallen in love with you, and was happy. Coming home to you had proven to be as adjustment he looked forward to. It had made him feelâŚnormal. He didnât have to pretend around you: he had his outbursts, his moments of panic, felt the need to keep things organized and in their place, and you were always so kind about it. Heâd been put in his place by you, of course, but heâd been trying. He wanted this, needed this, needed you. But the look on your face now left him feeling scared, terrified even. Fear rose like bile in his throat and he felt his heart beating frantically in his chest, like a caged bird beneath the confines of his ribs.
The wretched, angry animal in him was clawing at his insides, begging to be set free.
She canât do this to me. She canât leave.
Youâd been standing with your arms crossed the entire time heâd been talking to you, and god heâd been trying so hard not to shake or sweat but the hardened look on your face was making it difficult not to. And now you wanted space? Time to think? So you didnât understand him like youâd said you did. If youâd actually understood him, knew him, cared about him, then this would make sense. Youâd be understanding.
Why werenât you understanding?!
Sweat had gathered on Dexâs temples and he swallowed loudly, palms facing you, terrified you were suddenly scared of him after realizing what he was capable of.
âPlease, just-â The panic was evident in his usually calm, level voice. âLetâs just sit and talk. If you let me explain-â
âBenjamin,â Your voice is curt, short and nearly halts him in his tracks. âWe have been talking. Thatâs what this was. You explained yourself and I asked for space.â
Dex felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack. The need to fold in on himself was beginning to chisel away at whatever was keeping him standing in front of you at this moment.
He could feel the tremor in his hands as he fought the urge to lunge forward and pull you into him. He couldnât let you have space. Then you could leave him, decide it was better to be apart, and what if you didnât want to see him again? What if you broke up with him? What was Dex supposed to do? Nonono, he needed you. He needed you.
Dexâ breathing was sharp, his heart in his throat as he moved to block your path again, his hands still out, palms facing you, showing he was safe.
Iâm safe baby please.
Iâm safe.
Safe.
Your face twisted and Dex could see your frustration with him quickly shifting into anger. He was overwhelming you, he knew that, but he couldnât stop. This awful, awful ache in his gut made him feel like he was drowning and you hadnât even left. What would he do if you did? What would he do if you said you needed space and actually took it?
He tried to keep himself from reaching for you, from touching you, from pulling you into him and making you listen and just fucking understand him.
He side stepped when you moved, planting himself back in your path.
âDex-â A warning.
âPlease, just-â He could hear how desperate he sounded, and maybe he should have cared but he couldnât. âDonât leave. Can we please talk? About this? Please?â
An exasperated sigh left you, and Dex watched your lip curl in a way it only did when you were reaching your limit.
âI know you said you needed space,â He rushed to explain himself, muscles tense as he prepared to physically stop you from moving away from him. âI just think we need to go over some things a little bit more.â
âDex, did you lie to me?â It was curt, short, abrupt.
He froze, eyes boring into your own.
He swallowed.
âYes, but-â
âThatâs all I needed to hear,â Youâd thrown your hands in the air, eyes rolling as you turned to move away from him again. âPlease leave now. I just need some time to myself-â
Dex should have been embarrassed at his desperation. Honestly, heâd never even imagined heâd end up in a relationship let alone love someone the way he loved you.
He needed you.
Youâd guided him. Hell, heâd even worn the mask exponentially less because he wanted to be around you so often. He wanted to be more like you, to love you, to protect you, to own you. You were his and only his.
So he did what any sane man would do: Benjamin Poindexter dropped to his knees and begged.
âOh god,â it escaped you in a startled whisper.
âPlease,â His voice was strained, brows drawn together as if it pained him to speak. His hands were on his thighs in front of him, flexing, as if he was forcing them to remain there. âI-Iâll do anything Y/N, just-just donât leave.â
It was pathetic, he was pathetic. Begging on his knees in your apartment, pleading with you to just give him another chance.
His chest was heaving, sharp breaths escaping him as he gazed up at you. He looked wild and barely contained, and you could tell in that moment that even if you tried to make him leave, it was more than likely that heâd simply refuse. Or linger in the area. You hated how much you loved that about him.
âBenjamin,â It escaped you in a startled sigh, blinking rapidly as you gazed down at your boyfriend. Youâd never seen him so distraught, so desperate.
It made your chest and pussy ache.
âPlease,â His voice was hoarse. âIâŚI canât do this without you.â Dex leaned forward on his knees, tentatively reaching towards you. âIâll do whatever you ask me to. Iâll be good, I promise.â
Your hand came up to cover your mouth, lashes fluttering in surprise at how earnest he was being. You really had only wanted spaceâŚjust-just some time to think. The realization that Dex was Bullseye was heavy. And, truthfully, you knew that this was manipulative. Dex could, absolutely, be manipulative. But he was also desperate and possessive. And honestly? Pathetic.
You loved that about him.
âDexâŚâ It was soft, the way you said it, and Dex moved to wrap his large, warm hands around your thigh, drawing you closer to him.
âBaby, please, I need you,â It was rushed, whiny, âI-I can fix it, just let me fix it.â
âDex,â You started, eyes fluttering shut as you turned your face to look away from him, overwhelmed by his demonstration. âYou canât stop being yourself, and this is-â
He looked anguished. âI know I upset you, I know I lied and I promised I wouldnât-â His hands were flexing around your leg, demanding, fingers almost bruising. âI fucked up. But I need you Y/N.â
Fuck.
You lifted your gaze to the ceiling for a moment, cursing yourself under your breath. Were you really going to cave? Fuck, it was so hard not to with him. He was soâŚDex.
When you finally looked down at him again it almost made you catch your breath. His lips were parted, cheeks a soft hue of pink, brows drawn together and hair moussed. He was a wreck, begging on his knees for you, his hands wrapped around your leg. Heâd moved closer so that your foot was resting between his knees now as he gazed up at you.
âDonât make me leave,â His voice cracked as he spoke and you nearly wailed in frustration.
âFine,â It was a soft murmur and you reached out to gently smooth his hair back from his forehead. âYou can stay. JustâŚcalm down, okay?â
Dexâ eyes fell shut, face immediately shifting into one of relief as he leaned into your touch.
âThank you baby,â He managed, and when he gazed up at you, you nearly caught your breath. âI promise Iâll behave.â
He pulled you closer to him then, crowding around your leg as he began planting open mouthed kisses atop your thigh. You could feel his tongue and teeth dragging along the skin as you continued to rake your fingers through his hair.
âThank you, thank you,â He kept whispering between kisses, hand hand smoothing up the back of your thigh as he drew you even closer to his body.
fem! reader, mdni. 850 words. cw: kinda mean dex, use of vibrator, dex being dominant, dex restricting readers arms, mentions of control, slight degradation, pinv, throat holding, finger sucking, mentions of orgasm denial, general filth
he's far bigger now, dex. though it's not like he was never small in the first place, rather now, he's just big. everything about him the same, only bigger.
you like it. you like how beefy he's become, how broad and wide he feels when he's behind you. above you, more specifically. the way he now appears to take up significantly more space than you has become something that creates a short circuit in your brain.Â
with these meetings you've had with dex over the years, you've noticed a stark difference in his body. it was a striking change with those large biceps and expansive shoulders of his that just seem to agitate every little want within you. it's always been the case with these mindless fuckings you shared, but there was something about him more recently that did it more for you than it had ever done before.
it made you feel deranged. made you act it too.
he's above you, chest to your back â near full weight of him keeping you in place. keeping you exactly where he wants you. where you need.
he's close, hands wormed around you beneath him; elbows anchored beside your head for his own support, fingers snaked around your face between. his hold on you is firm, grasp possessive with the way he manipulates it. you.Â
you're almost bound, in a position like this. with your own arms sandwiched under your weight, dex's too, you're utterly restricted. forced in place, unable to rid your clit of that dull, tedious, slow speed vibrator you've been made to hold against it. it's almost agonising, the low pace not one that you typically favour.
it's all part of the control he craves, you believe. anything he can possibly govern, he will. even if it meant what you can feel in your own body.
his hold on your face shifts slightly, each moving from either cheek and instead to the upper of your throat, the inners of his hands perfectly nestled in the space like it was made for them specifically. his first two fingers follow with the change in placement and they soon find themselves worming between the gap of your slightly agape mouth.Â
"suck on them, baby," he husks into your ear, voice low and sort of sinister. "wrap your lips around 'em⌠yeah there we go, that's it. attagirl⌠you like that, don't you?"Â
you hum, pleased noise sort of muffled.
"god, you're so dirty," he nips at the lobe of your ear, holding the squishy flesh between each set of teeth â tone now gritted ever so slightly. "my dirty girl."
it's all so deliberate, how he moves. the winds of his hips into you below are meticulous, each one slow and timely in a way that's calculated. while they're near full pumps of his cock, they're not nearly as satisfying as what they usually are. and it's almost as if he's being purposely withholding, like he's not giving you exactly what you want.
with the lack you get from the vibrator betwixt your pussy's lips and the pittance you get from his cock, you can't help but make a discontented whine, a sound so desperate that dex can't help but take pity on you.Â
"aw," he coos behind your ear, mocking sympathy in a way that shouldn't turn you on as much as it does. "poor thing," he adds, lips brushing at your skin from the closeness.Â
his inconsistent grunts hit at your cheek and you're not sure how long you can manage teetering in this directionless void of bliss. it grows too much with the lack he allows you to fully feel. his hold around your throat tightens, just slightly, and it's with that pulse-like squeeze that he lifts it carefully. he elevates the position of your head, in turn bringing you that bit closer to him.
dex licks a stripe along the upper bone of your cheek and his lips hover above the streak of saliva. he keeps himself there, furthering the territorial marking act.Â
"can you wait?" he teases, hinting at the release you've yet to be granted with.
you shake your head.
"can't hear you, baby," he tuts, fingers worming that bit further into your mouth.Â
"no," you muffle around his two fingers, word just about audible. though not enough.Â
the amusement of his is evident in that slight chuckle beside your ear. he slips his fingers from between your lips and grabs a hold of your cheek â wiping his wet spit fingers across your skin just seconds before he hooks his hold onto the side of your face.Â
"go on, one more time for me."
"no."
"no?"
"no," you whine, the noise kind of pathetic.
"I didn't think so."
those sporadic winds of his hips become something slightly more consistent, each one picking up until an almost pattern forms. one you've been desperately chasing.Â
if you carry on being good, he might let you change the setting on the vibrator. you'll have to be good though.
but even then, he still might not permit your release.
Hii can I please request smut of jealous Dex x reader? Maybe she's getting too close to Matt so he reminds her who she belongs to
Loose My Mind
Benjamin Poindexter x fem!Reader
warning: jealousy, reader works for Matt, smut (MDNI,18+!!!), doggy, ass slapping, nipple play, Dex acts possessive
A/N: hehe absolutely loved writing this. Although I feel like the smut here isnât written good, I still hope you enjoy <33
Dex knew something was wrong the second you said Mattâs name too softly.
It wasnât even anything obvious at first. You were just sitting across from him at his apartment kitchen table, scrolling through your phone while half listening to him talk about work. But the second Matt texted you, your entire expression changed.
You smiled. Just a little smile. Dex noticed immediately. Of course he did.
âWhoâs that?â he asked casually. Way too casually.
You didnât look up from your phone. âMatt.â
The name alone made something ugly twist in his chest. Dex leaned back in his chair slowly, watching you carefully while you typed out a response. âMurdock.â
âMhm.â
âWhat does he want?â
You shrugged lightly. âNothing. Weâre just talking. Mostly about work.â
Just talking. Mostly about work. Right. Dexâs jaw tightened almost instantly. The problem with Matt wasnât even entirely Matt himself. It was the way you acted around him lately. Softer. More open. Like you genuinely enjoyed his company.
And Dex hated it. He hated how often Mattâs name came up now. Hated the fact you defended him every time Dex made a comment. Hated the way Matt looked at you like he already knew things about you that Dex didnât.
Worst of all? Matt was calm about it. Like he knew Dex was bothered. Like he enjoyed it. Which is not the case, Matt really just likes you as a friend.
âYou spend a lot of time with him,â Dex muttered.
You finally glanced up. âOkay?â
His fingers drummed once against the table. âYou didnât before.â
âPeople become friends, Dex. Thatâs usually how it works.â Friends. That word alone irritated him. Because Matt did not look at you like a friend.
And Dex knew men. He knew the way they watched people they wanted. The tiny shifts in breathing. The hesitation before speaking. The careful tone.
Matt wanted you. Dex would bet his life on it.
And lately, it felt like you were too distracted by Matt to notice what was happening right in front of you. Or maybe you did notice. Maybe that was the problem.
âYou smile at your phone when he texts.â Dex said quietly.
Your eyebrows lifted slightly. âAre you seriously jealous of Matt?â
âNo.â The answer came way too fast.
You stared at him for a second before laughing softly under your breath. âDex.â
âIâm not jealous.â
âYou literally sound angry.â
âI am angry.â
âWhy?â
Because he caught Matt staring at your mouth twice last week. Because youâd started saying Mattâs name with this softness in your voice that made Dex feel borderline violent.
But instead he just said, âI donât trust him.â
You snorted. âMattâs harmless.â
Dex actually laughed at that. But he didnât find it funny. Not even a little bit.
âHarmless?â he repeated.
âYeah?â
âMurdockâs not harmless.â The intensity in his voice finally made you pause. Dex was already staring at you now, fully focused, blue eyes sharp and unreadable in the dim apartment lighting. The tension in the room shifted instantly. You swallowed slightly.
âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
âLike what?â
âLike youâre about to interrogate me.â
âMaybe I should.â
You rolled your eyes, but your heartbeat still sped up a little. âYouâre being dramatic.â
âNoâŚâ Dex said quietly. âYouâre being careless.â That irritated you immediately.
âWith what?â
âWith him.â
âOh my god. Dex we work together!â You stood from the table, grabbing your water bottle before walking toward the living room. Dex watched you go silently for a few seconds before following.
âDex, seriously.â you said, turning around. âMatt is my friend.â
âAnd Iâm supposed to believe he only wants to be your friend?â
âYes?â His expression darkened immediately.
âYou really donât see it.â
âSee what?â
âThe way he looks at you.â
You crossed your arms. âYouâre imagining things.â
âI donât imagine things.â That shut you up for half a second. Because unfortunately, he was right. Dex noticed everything. And right now he looked genuinely worked up over this.
âYouâre overreacting.â you said softer this time.
Dex stepped closer slowly. âAm I?â
âYes.â
âHe touches you too much.â
âHe literally taps everyone when he talks.â
âHe flirts with you.â
âHeâs nice.â
âHe wants you.â The words came out sharp and immediate. Your chest tightened slightly at the raw jealousy underneath them. Dex rarely admitted things directly like this. Usually he buried it under sarcasm or irritation. But now he looked completely done pretending.
You tried to laugh it off anyway. âYou sound insane.â
âMaybe I am.â Another step closer.
âYou know what the problem is?â Dex asked quietly.
âWhat?â
âYou let people get too comfortable with you.â The low roughness in his voice made your stomach flip nervously.
âDex-â
âYou smile at them. Touch them. Sit too close.â His eyes locked onto yours. âThen act surprised when they fall in love with you.â
The room suddenly felt too warm. Your pulse was pounding now, but you still crossed your arms tighter defensively. âMatt is not in love with me.â
Dex tilted his head slightly.
âYou wanna test that theory?â Your breath caught. Something about the way he said it made heat crawl up your neck immediately.
âYouâre jealous.â you whispered.
His eyes narrowed instantly. âYeah.â
The honesty shocked you quiet. Dex stepped directly into your space then, close enough that you had to tilt your head back slightly to look at him properly.
âAnd you know whatâs really pissing me off?â he murmured.
Your throat felt dry suddenly. âWhat?â
âThe fact you know exactly what youâre doing.â
âIâm not doing anything tho.â you reply a little confused. What could you possibly do to have him act this weird?
âBullshit.â The word came out low and rough. Dexâs hand suddenly landed against your waist, fingers tightening just enough to make your breath hitch.
âYou think I donât notice the way you mention him around me?â he asked softly. âThe way you watch my reactions?â
Okay. Maybe he had a point there. You didnât think talking about work and mentioning Matt was such a big deal.
But you still lifted your chin stubbornly. âMaybe I just like talking about my friends.â
Dex laughed quietly, but there was nothing amused about it.
âYou want my attention.â
âI already have your attention.â His grip tightened slightly.
âNo.â he said softly. âYou want all of it.â The way he looked at you then nearly melted your brain completely. Possessive. Like heâd finally hit his limit.
âYou keep getting closer to him.â Dex murmured, eyes flicking briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes, âand itâs making me wanna remind you exactly where you belong.â
Your heart slammed hard against your ribs.
âDexâŚâ
âYou know I hate sharing.â You shouldâve stepped back. Instead, you stayed perfectly still while he moved even closer.
âAnd MurdockâŚâ Dex continued quietly, âis getting way too comfortable touching whatâs mine.â
The possessiveness in his voice shouldâve scared you a little. Instead it sent heat rushing straight through your body. Your breathing turned uneven instantly, which Dex noticed immediately because of course he did. His eyes darkened at the reaction.
âThere you are.â he whispered. Then his hand slid up your waist slowly before he leaned down close enough for his mouth to brush your ear.
âGo ahead.â he murmured. âText him back.âYour stomach flipped violently. Dexâs other hand tilted your chin toward him carefully.
âBut youâre looking at me now.â His hand now traveling down to the waistband of your joggers.
Your breath hitches when you feel your joggers and your panties hit the ground. Oh, youâre in for a long night.
âI think I need to remind you who you belong to.â he whispers in your ear and the next second you hear his jeans fall to to the ground too.
He picks you up in a swift motion and walks towards the bedroom, resting you on top of it now.
His lips crash into yours, kissing you hungrily and angrily. Your hands are on his back now. The kiss turns into something messy and before you can register anything, you feel Dex entering your slightly wet pussy with his hard and big cock.
No matter how often he fucked you, you could never get used to his strength.
Your mouth falls open and you let out a moan mid kiss. But that doesnât stop Dex from kissing you. He is on mission now.
Your nails dig into his bare back and you close your eyes.
His tip hits your cervix with each thrust. And itâs not like heâs going slow like every other time. No, he is fast and angry.
âThis pussy belongs to me. Only me.â he groans.
âSay it. Now. Who do you belong to.â
âYou, Dex. Fuck. I belong to you.â you scream. You feel his finger playing with your hard nipples. His lips now kissing and sucking the sensitive spots of your neck.
You feel yourself clench around his cock and this causes Dex to moan.
The whole bed is shaking underneath you both with how fast he is fucking you now. Stars start dancing around your eyes.
âMatt could never fuck you this good.â
Dex doesnât feel the need to slow down. Quite the opposite. He starts thrusting inside you faster and deeper. With each thrust, you feel his balls slap your bare ass. His mouth travels down your body and starts kissing and licking your hard nipples. His tongue danced around it and the feeling of it alone sends you in absolute heat.
His free hands are now on your hips.
âMine. Only mine. Fuuuck. Scream my name.â
And you do as he says. Letting the neighbors know he is fucking you mercilessly. But you wouldnât want to have it another way.
And without a warning you feel yourself cum all around his cock. Dex stops and looks at you.
âAww you couldnât hold it inside you any further?â he says mockingly. He removes himself from you, leaving you feel empty now.
He is still between your legs on his knees. His cock still hard and you know what heâs going to do now.
âTurn around. On your hands and knees.â he demands and you do as he says. You feel his hands rest on each side of your hips and he enters your pussy from behind now. His cock stretching your walls until heâs buried deep inside you again.
You leave out a loud moan as soon as he starts thrusting inside you again. His hands holding you tightly in place as he picks up the speed.
âYouâre mine to love. And mine to fuck. Understand?â
You nod. But apparently that is not enough for him. He needs you to say it out loud.
âSay it.â he demands.
âIâm yours. Only yours.â you moan chasing the pleasure now. You feel Dex slapping your ass from behind causing you to whine loudly.
You cry our his name a few times more until you feel Dex cum inside you which eventually causes you to let yourself cum aswell.
One thing about Dex, he is big on aftercare. No matter how much you piss him off sometimes. No matter how hard or soft he goes on you. He will not leave you after fucking you. Because at the end of the day youâre still his girlfriend and the love of his life.
So, he picks you up slowly and moves into the bathroom. Just to clean you up properly.
âYouâre mine, okay? Tell Matt to act fucking professionally around you.â
can't stop thinking about starlight from the boys and her eyes glowing when she orgasms, soâŚhehe.
tags: pwp, KINKY!!, readers eyes glow when she cums, mutant!reader, p-in-v, post-coital conversations, teasing, sexual tension, pussy whipped!clark (1.1k wc)
â
you could count the amount of times you'd orgasmed in your entire life on a single hand.
it wasn't that every man you met was devastatingly bad, there were good times. but it was a much bigger, brighter problem when you could cum. you'd gotten tired of explaining they why of the light-show that came whenâŚyou came. so you'd decided, the next person you fucked, would be someone entirely capable of handling you in the oddities of your quirk.
that manâŚhappened to be none other than clark kent.
you'd met him in the justice league, hit it off instantly. mainly because you really adored how fascinated he got whenever you'd use your powers in his presence. so he should've been fine if you beamed as you orgasmed.
âŚthat's what you told yourself anyway. the theory was yet to be tested.
when you forewarned him, he was more embarrassed than weirded out. "the idea that i could even get a gorgeous girl like you toâŚyou knowâŚit's not weird at all. it'll be rewarding. c'monâŚdon't be silly."
despite his casual deference to your forewarning, his ears were red, all the way down to your neck. so you figured, what's the worst that could happen.
the words tumble out of you breathless, hasty & jumbled. too overwhelmed to even form coherent sentences with how much clark's cock was stretching you out. fucking you so hard and deep.
your body arches right into him. hot, sweaty chest, soft and pressed up against his own. clark's muscle tenses, his hip thrusting relentlessly into your squelching cunt. the sharp burn you once felt had manifested into something so dangerous and potent â the aching pleasure of your belly burning wildly and intensely.
clark's arm curls around your hips, his forearms flexing, holding you securely in place as he drives up into you. he'd barely begun fucking you and he already knew you were going to cum, with your pussy fluttering so warm and tight around him. the combined sweat makes your skin slick where you're pressed together.
he thinks he might've imagined it when he sees a flicker of an amber glow casting form your eyes. it pulses in your pupils, threatening to take over. clark keeps at his pace â the room then lights up, in the direction your head was tilted.
his eyes widens. an awed gasp caught in his throat as the amber coats your irises, illuminating his face for a brief second before you tip your head. column of your through visible as you come hard, coating the space in an otherworldly glow.
"jesusâŚlook at you."
the glow pulses from within your skin. forcing clark to slow in the presence of the eerie hue. he stares, completely captivated. it quickly churns in him â a quiet, heady want that fills him. before you even begin to feel judged beneath his scrutiny, his hand comes to cradle your cheeks, thumbing gently at your cheekbone.
you lean into his touch, shy. "i-is it weird?" his gaze only makes you pulse around him harder.
clark lets out a low, shuddered groan at the flutter, hips jerking up into you.
"g-gosh no. not weird. it'sâŚyou."
his thrusts resume much slower, careful not to overwhelm you after your orgasm. but he's mesmerised, by the gentle flow that fades from your eyes. grinding slow and deep into you.
"you're soâŚso beautiful."
you feel his palm slide to the back of your head, flexing his fingers in locks of your hair. "m-mhn. you'reâŚnot just saying that to be nice?" you punctuate your words with a circle of your hips, matching the pace of his thrusts.
clark visibly winces, grunting low as he feels the familiar tightness in his balls. "you'reâŚunbelievable." his gaze remains on you, sheepish, but truthful, "it isâŚsoâŚincredibly hot," he croaks, his own head looks to the side. focussed on driving his cock into you velvet, tight pussy. "you're glowin'âŚcause of me."
you don't think you have another orgasm left in you. but you're as determined to get him to feel the same pleasure you did. a low growl rumbles in your throat as you squeeze harder around him.
"h-holyââŚugh!"
a broken whimper leaves his throat as soon as you relax around his length and his belly tightens, convulsing beneath you as he pants your name over and over. arm tightly locked around your hips as he empties himself deep inside you in helpless, desperate thrust.
you whine at the abrupt change in position, where clark pulls you down next to him, breathing heavily in the wake of his own orgasm.
clark's turns to you with a deep, content sigh, his hand coming up to brush the damp hairs stuck to your temple to the side. "wasn't such bad thingâŚ" he murmurs, thumbing by your cheekbones.
"you're so weirdâŚ"
he lifts his head in mock offense, "how does that make me weird?"
"me beaming like a lighthouse is weird. liking it makes you weird. " you mumble with an embarrassed laugh, burying your face in his chest.
"it's not weird," he tuts, draping your trembling thighs over his hips, "first time iâŚ.cameâŚ.i laser beamed my bedroom in the barn."
you snort. nudging your jaw on his chest.
"you're fucking with me."
"m'not," clark raises his palm, folding his fingers. "scout's honour."
"âŚyou really think it's hot?" you lazily rest your cheeks on the sweaty, tuft of hair on his chest."
"are you kidding? i came harder than i have in years just watching you get like thatâŚ"
"you're just saying that." you cut in, hasty and in disbelief. "what's so hot about it?"
"gosh it'sâŚ" clark sighs, head slumping back, a lop-sided grin on his cheeks. "letting go for me like that, your entire body reacting soâŚbeautifully. it'sâŚit's like heaven â"
"jesus. you're so poetic for no reason. say it dirtier." you murmur. running your knuckles down the deep indents of his cheeks.
clark lifts his head enough to size you with a pouty look, but then he slumps. pondering on your words. you don't think he was actually going to follow through until you feel his voice drop an octave lower, gaze intently on yours.
"watchin' youâŚcome apart on my cock is one thing. but seeing your eyes justâŚglow. like some kind ofâŚextra-terrestrial adult filmâŚstar. i don't think a guy can ask for more. i thought i would explode. like i was gonna laser beam at my release like it was my first damn time."
you lift your head, almost in awe at his use of words, a soft, appraising growl leaving your throat.
The window slammed upward hard enough to rattle the glass.
Cold night air swept into the apartment first.
Then him.
Dex` landed in a controlled crouch on the hardwood floor, black tactical suit absorbing the impact like it weighed nothing at all.
You looked up from the couch without surprise.
âFront door still broken?â you asked softly.
âI was closer to the fire escape.â
Dex straightened slowly. The mask hid most of his face, but not the intensity behind his eyes. You locked eyes, the intensity of his stare already making you feel warm. You stared right back at him, scanning him from head to tow, searching for injuries, but also admiring how he looks with his suite on. He looked more feral with it. Dangerous. Untouchable. Menacing. But he was yours and he was never any of those things with you.
âYou left the window unlocked,â he said.
âI know it's your favourite entrance to the apartment. I need to remind you though that you do have keys.â
A beat of silence.
You notice blood on his suite. He tilts his head slightly. âYouâre not asking whose blood that is.â
âI figured if it was yours, youâd already be bleeding on my floor.â
That earned the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth beneath the mask.
Dangerous thing, making him smile.
He moved toward you carefully, like a predator pretending not to stalk. The suit creaked faintly with every step. Youâd learned there was always restraint in him, not gentleness exactly, but effort. Constant effort.
âYou should keep it onâ you murmured, fingers brushing the armored plating on his chest.
Dexâs hand caught your wrist instantly.
Not rough. Reflexive.
His thumb pressed against your pulse, feeling it jump under his touch.
âThe suit?â he asked quietly.
You shook your head once.
âYes and the mask.â
He went completely still.
Through the black fabric, his breathing changed.
âYou want me to keep them on?â
There was something fragile hidden underneath the question. Something wary. Like he was waiting for the joke or disgust or rejection afterward.
Instead, you stepped closer until your bodies nearly touched.
âI like looking at you like this,â you admitted. âMakes you feel dangerous.â
âIt doesn't scare you?â
âMaybe Iâm into scary things.â
A low exhale escaped him - almost a laugh, almost disbelief. He smirks underneath the mask and the smirk reaches his eyes.
Your fingers slid up the side of the mask, tracing the seam near his jaw. Dex leaned into the touch before he could stop himself. That tiny unconscious movement always got to you more than the violence did.
Because no one ever imagined someone like him wanting softness that badly.
âYou had a bad night?â you asked.
His silence answered enough.
Then, quieter:
âI needed to see you.â
The honesty in it hit harder than anything else.
You kissed him through the mask first.
Slow.
The material was cool beneath your lips, and Dex made this strangled sound in the back of his throat like the contact short-circuited something in him. His hands settled at your waist carefully at first â too carefully for a man who could kill with a paperclip.
âYouâre sure?â he asked against your mouth.
You nodded once.
âKeep it on.â
That finally broke whatever restraint heâd been holding onto.
He lifted the mask enough to kiss you back hard and steal your breath, gloved hand sliding into your hair while the other braced against the wall beside your head.
And underneath all the armor and violence and instability, you could feel the terrifying truth of it:
Dex loved being wanted exactly as he was.
He backs you up againt the wall, never breaking the kiss. He has one hand on you waist and wraps the other one around your neck, cutting your air flow just enough.
"So, I fucking scare you, huh?"
"Fuck"
"Tell me, sweetheart"
"Yes, and you know what Dex? It turns me on"
He growls, moving his mouth to your neck, kissing and biting at your sweet spot. You moan loudly in his ear instead. When he comes up at your mouth again you push him away. He looks startled, afraid he took things to far, until you take your robe off, completely naked underneath it, drop to your knees and start unbuckling his belt.
The sight of you in your knees with his dick in your mouth, naked while he is fully clothed with his suit on made him feel more in power and turned on beyond belief.
He puts a hand in you head, not pushing you just feeling you move. You are not slow with it. No. You don't have the patience for slow. You are fast and rough, taking him all in, sucking him in like it's giving you oxygen when you can't breath. You moan around him when you hear the sounds he makes, which drives him even more crazy.
He grabs your hair and pulls your head back. You whine at the loss of contact, looking at him with pleading eyes.
"Stand up, sweetheart, it's my turn"
The moment you stand up, he lifts you up and carries you to the bed. He climbs on top of you like a predator, kisses you hard then slowly descents parting your legs forcefully.
His mouth is then on you with deadly precision, taking your breath and mind away.
"Oh fuck, Dex, how are you so good at this?"
The praise making him moan around you, the vibrations adding even more intensity to your pleasure.
He builds your orgasm almost in seconds, lapping at you like a starving man, but you tip over the moment you look down and see him eating you and watching you through the mask. The image was addicting and you looked while the waves of pleasure took over you, and he looked right back at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Before you could calm down from your orgasm, he lowers the mask, climbs back up, pins your wrists next to your head and enters you with one swift motion, cutting the air from you lungs.
"You are always so tight for me, want me to open you up?"
"Yes, please" You wrap your legs around his waist, driving him deeper and you almost wanted to tell him to rip you apart if he had to.
His face, still covered by the mask, hovered just inches from yours, only his eyes visible now, heavy-lidded, dark, and unfocused in a way that betrayed how much control he was losing, the sharp intensity usually there dulled into something warmer, hazier, like he was barely holding onto awareness of anything beyond you.
And the fact that you couldnât fully reach himâcouldnât kiss him properly, couldnât close that final gap because the mask was still thereâonly made the tension tighten further in your chest, the frustration and want twisting together into something almost unbearable as his breath brushed your skin and he stayed just out of reach, like he knew exactly what he was doing without meaning to.
He starts moving, with hard and slow thrusts, each rougher than the previous one, hitting in just the right place like he always does. You feel your mind slipping away, lost in the pleasure the masked man is offering you.
"Are you going to hurt me masked man?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Show me why I should be scared of you, Dex" the words driving him even more feral, making his thrusts crueler and faster, making it feel like he wanted to rip you in half. He fucked you right at the line of pain and pleasure, perfectly balanced with neither winning.
"You are fucking perfect"
Perfect wasnât a word he used lightly. It didnât feel like it belonged to people. People were inconsistent, noisy, unpredictable in ways that usually meant control slipping away from him. But you - there was a kind of alignment in the way you responded to him. You didnât try to fix what you saw. You didnât try to pretend he was something gentler than he was. You looked at the danger and stayed anyway, and not just stayed you took pleasure from it. You owned the fear.
It wasn't hard to reach your peak once again, the intensity of the act drove you through the edge, and Dex followed right after you when he felt you clenching around him.
He collapsed on top of you, still holding himself up a little so that he wouldn't crush you, with his head tucked in you nape.
The moment you catch your breath, you gently lift his head up and take his mask of.
"No matter how much I enjoyed this, I missed your pretty face" you said softly.
For a second, he didnât move.
Dex had never really understood words like that - pretty, soft, anything that didnât come with a tactical purpose or a threat attached to it. He didnât think of himself in those terms at all. Never had. It wasnât relevant. It wasnât useful. It wasnât something people like him got to be.
But when you said it, something in him still reacted.
Not logically. Instinctively.
Like the word landed somewhere it wasnât supposed to reach.
His gaze flicked to you sharp at first, almost confused by his own response, before it softened in a way he didnât fully control. He didnât correct you. Didnât dismiss it.
Because with you, it didnât feel like a mistake.
It felt⌠wanted.
He leaned in, slow and deliberate, and kissed you lightly, just enough to bridge the space heâd been holding between you without fully closing it. No rush. No violence. Just contact, careful and almost testing, like he was checking that the moment was still real.
And when he pulled back slightly, his thumb lingered at your jaw, anchoring you there.
He didnât say anything about the word.
But the way he stayed close, just a fraction longer than necessary, like he didnât want to lose the feeling of it, said enough.
"Shower and sleep?"
"Shower, round two and sleep?"
"How could I possibly say no to that? Lead the way my beautiful masked man."
THE END
PS It's my first time writing smut, Dex just has that effect on me
actually im doing really well except for the fact that everything makes me sad and the things that dont make me sad make me angry. but other than that im fine
Licking on dex scar during missionary⌠that alone will drive him crazy. heâd get sloppy afterwards mumbling and cursing bcs you could do anything to taunt him; he has the patience for it all but licking the scar??? wheww thatâd do itâŚ.
WHEWWW
and at first he would be thrusting into you slowly and lovingly, his cock sinking into your tummy and drawing little gasps from you. your quivering legs just closing in on his waist every time he draws back and pushes his length into your cunt. and with how tender dex is being it makes you so needy that you just want to kiss him :(( making grabby hands at him until he smiles and lowers his head down for you, letting you wrap your arms around his neck. âneedy girl..â heâll mumble, knowing he totally loves it when you get like this.
youâre just pecking at his lips and his neck, whines of dex.. and feels sâgood.., sweetly leaving your lips after every smooch. youâve pulled him so close that your cheeks are pressed together and you could hear his breaths in your ear, hard panting and strained groans every so often. and you really werenât thinking when you did it, your lips were already kissing at his cheekbones when you decided to lick a long stripe against his scar. tongue gliding over the damaged skin with a pant as you hold him close to you, tasting the sweat of darkened scar. and dex just stills in his movements, his cock still snug in between your legs as he takes in how fucking hot that was.
you hear dex groan out a rough, âfuck..â, his hands moving from holding behind your head to gripping at your hips, sloppily pounding into your cunt with need. and he hits right at your g-spot extracting a sob from your throat, instinctively hiding into dexs shoulder. âhey, stop that. keep doing what you were doing sweetheart.. for me yeah?â dex urges, taking one of his hands from your hips and pulling your head from his neck. with tears running down your face you start to lap at dexs face again, and you give him little kitten licks at his scar with a whimper.
his mouth curls into a grin and he bites his lip, eyes shut in pleasure as his hips rock into you harshly. âatta girl just like that..â you hear, feeling your core tighten up with an intense orgasm creeping up on you.
you can barely keep up steady licks on dexs cheek, only managing a slick stripe on his skin every moment from how much heâs rocking you back and forth on the bed. and his thrusts stutter when you clench around his length, tightly squeezing around him while you cum, his cock having to pry itself from your sopping folds. dex is mumbling curses in your ear and you know heâs about to cum himself, cos he gets all sloppy and hazy, cock pulsing with the need to paint your walls. dex plunges his load in your hole with lowly moan â youâre hiding in his shoulder again, and his face is all messy with spit because of you!
 ÝÝâ pairs: ddba!dex poindexter x super-soldier!female reader.
 ÝÝâ themes: Morally gray FMC, Age-gap, Obsessive/Possessive Love, Dark Romance & Toxic Codependency, Emotional Manipulation, Homicidal Ideation/Violent Fantasies, Dissociation & Emotional Numbness, Violence as foreplay/love language, Identity & Moral Corruption, Control vs Chaos, Graphic Violence & Gore, Explicit Sexual Content (Power Struggle(Femdom), Bondage(metal cuffs), Injury Kink (Dex still healing), Dirty Talk, Degradation (Little Shit, Sadistic little Bitch, Dirty Dog), Slapping Dex Mid-Threat, Teasing/Denial, Breath Play(Asphyxiation/Smothered by pillow), Begging & Submission, Handjob, Voyeurism/Exhibition(?), unprotected piv(lets wrap it up), Cowgirl, Creampie, Body Worship, Marking (Bites, Kiss marks), Rough Sex), Gun Violence, Car Chase, Murder (AVTF agents/Fisk Minions welp.), Mentions of blood, Savior Complex, Post-Prison Dex, No use of Y/N, reader will be portrayed as physically fit (literally a super-soldier), apart from that no other physical adjectives are included...i hope.
Authorâs Note: Welcome to the unhinged portion of the program. If you are new here: yes they're toxic. Yes, both of them are a walking red flag. THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP OKAY? If any of the warning is triggering please take care of yourself and SKIP this fanfic (YOU HAVE FREE WILL) because it's getting dark in here. Going over the top on warnings here cause I am nervous... it's NOT Haunting Adeline level dark but still....
Part I - Masterlist
You walked into the DoDC bullpen with your chin high and a quiet, vicious little thrill humming under your skin.
Let him suffer.
That was the thought looping in your head the entire ride over. Leaving Dex frustrated felt like the perfect petty punishment for everything heâd put you through. Yeah. He deserved blue balls and a bruised ego.
You barely had time to drop your jacket over your chair before someone muttered, âValentinaâs on her way up.â
You groaned internally, already reaching for your coffee like it could save you. Not again. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine had been circling you like a shark for months, dropping not-so-subtle hints about âspecial projectsâ and âteam workâ, as if John Walker would work with you and as if youâd ever work with John Walker. The man publicly murdered Nico with the shield. If you ever came face-to-face with him, you werenât sure youâd be able to stop yourself from snapping the douchebag's neck.
The meeting room was already half-full when you walked in. Valentina sat at the head of the table like she owned it, eyes scanning the room like she was picking out her next pawn (probably you). Fisk and her having unclear relations only made her more dangerous because she played the long game, always three steps ahead.
You took your seat near the end, trying not to yawn. You haven't slept in more than forty hours now. The serum kept you functional, but it didnât stop the heavy drag behind your eyes or the way your body begged to slump.
Valentina started talking (something about new threats) and you forced yourself to look attentive, nodding at the right moments while your mind kept drifting back to Dex.
The agent next to you gave you a weird look and leaned in slightly, voice hushed. âWhat happened to your head?â
Your hand flew up instinctively, fingers brushing the dried cut along your temple. Shit. Youâd completely forgotten about it in the chaos of getting here. You forced a sheepish little laugh, quiet enough not to draw Valentinaâs attention, and leaned closer to him.
âSlipped in the shower,â you whispered, rolling your eyes like it was the most embarrassing thing to admit. âTripped over my own damn foot like an idiot. You know how it is when youâre half-asleep.â
The agent chuckled softly and nodded, buying it without question. âBeen there. Looks nasty though. You good?â
âYeah, all good,â you murmured, giving him a small smile before turning your attention back to the front of the room like nothing was wrong.Â
Valentinaâs gaze landed on you.
âMy favorite Reject,â she said smoothly, smile widening. âThe CIA would love to have someone with your⌠particular skill set on board. Think about it.â
Every eye in the room suddenly shifted to you. A few barely-hidden sneers from people who still remembered your history. You felt the collective judgment like a physical thing crawling over your skin.
âNo,â you said evenly. âIâm goodâŚ.respectfully.â
A few people shifted uncomfortably. Valentinaâs smile didnât falter and widened, you know she wasnât going to give up until she had her way.
Valentina let out a soft, amused hum, like sheâd expected nothing less.
âPity,â she murmured. âBut the offer stands. Always.â
You gave her a small, polite nod and turned your attention back to the briefing like the entire exchange hadnât happened. You had bigger problems to handle, like the unhinged man currently waiting for you at home.
â
When the meeting finally dragged to a close, you stood up a little too fast, you didnât want Valentina catching up and pulling you aside again. You were halfway out the door when a hand landed gently on your arm.
âGot a minute?â Deputy Director Mason asked quietly.
You forced a polite smile even as your stomach twisted. âOf course, sir.â
He pulled you aside into the quieter hallway, away from the dispersing agents. His expression was cautious, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that made your chest tighten.
âThose two AVTF agents we sent for your welfare check,â he said quietly. âTurns out they did report in before they went dark. Their last logged location was at your address.â
Your pulse spiked.Â
âHowââ You caught yourself mid-word, blinking like you were genuinely confused. Then you tilted your head, eyes widening just enough to look innocent and concerned. âWait⌠thatâs a good thing, right? If they reported inâŚâ
Mason studied you, eyes narrowing just slightly. Then he leaned in closer, voice dropping to an interrogative tone, âWhat time did you get home that night?â
Inside, something cold and venomous uncoiled in your chest. You tilted your head slowly, letting just the right amount of hurt flicker across your face.
âAre you interrogating me, sir?â you asked softly, voice laced with disbelief. âYou donât trust me?â
You let the silence stretch when he couldnât answer, eyes wide and wounded, the perfect picture of a loyal soldier whoâd just been slapped in the face by someone she respected.
Mason sighed heavily and rubbed his stubbled jaw, glancing around the empty hallway like he didnât want anyone to overhear. His blue eyes softened just a fraction when they landed back on you.
âYou need to be straight with me here. Given your history with Poindexter⌠the agency canât afford to have someone on the inside protecting wanted criminals. If thereâs anything youâre not telling me about, nowâs the time. Because if I find out later that youâre covering for himââ
âWow,â you whispered, sounding genuinely hurt. You took a small step back, wrapping your arms around yourself like you were trying to hold yourself together.
âI thought you knew me better than that,â you continued, voice trembling just enough. âI thought⌠after all the times Iâve had your back, after everything weâve been through⌠youâd at least give me the benefit of the doubt. But I guess not.â
You looked away, biting your lip like you were fighting back tears, then met his eyes again.
âIf you really think Iâm covering for Poindexter, then go ahead and investigate me. Suspend me. Do whatever you have to do.â
Masonâs jaw tightened. The softness in his eyes deepened, guilt flickering across his face. He opened his mouth, but you didnât give him the chance to respond.
You just gave him one last wounded look and turned away, shoulders slumped like a woman whoâd just had her loyalty thrown back in her face.
Let him stew in that. You smirked.
You pushed through the doors and stepped out into the bright 6 a.m. sun, squinting as it hit your tired eyes. The city was already awake, cars honking, people rushing by with their coffees. Your motorcycle waited on the other side of the street like a beautiful black promise of getting the hell out of here.
You were halfway down the steps when you heard Mattâs voice call out.
âHey! Wait up!â
You picked up your pace down the stairs muttering, âOh hell no, man.â
âHeyâwait, just a secondââ
You kept walking, boots hitting the pavement with purpose, pretending you suddenly had the hearing of a normal person.Â
Matt fell into step beside you like a stubborn mosquito that refused to be swatted, âWe need to talk.â
âNo.â
âOkayâŚcan we talk, please?â
You stopped dead at the curb, turning to stare at him incredulously as the pedestrian light blinked red.
â...What the fuck?â you blurted, actually laughing in exhausted disbelief. ââPleaseâ? You really thought that was gonna work?â
Matt had the audacity to look mildly hopeful.
The light turned green.
You started crossing the street again. âStill no.â
Matt sighed like you were the difficult one, âItâs important.âÂ
You reached your motorcycle, stopped, and started patting your pockets for your keys, muttering curses under your breath when you couldnât find them immediately.
âMatt, I havenât slept in probably two days nowâŚâ you said, still rummaging, âI love that you âcareâ, truly, but right now the only thing I want to do is shoot myself in the face so I can finally get some sleep. If you donât get out of my way in the next three seconds, Iâm going to cry on you. And then maybe stab you with my keys. In that order.â
Matt opened his mouth, looking grim. âFisk is looking for his shooterââ
You snorted so hard it scratched at the throat, then leaned in close to him like you were sharing the worldâs worst secret.
âThat was meâŚâ you whispered, deadpan.
Matt didnât even blink.
âYeah, I know,â he said, sounding both exhausted and exasperated. âThatâs why I want to talk to you!â
You stared at him for a beat, then let out a tired, slightly manic laugh as you finally found your keys.
âUgh. Fine.â you groaned, âWhere do you want to talk?
Matt gave you a small, relieved smile, âThereâs a diner right there. My treat.â
â
You slid into the booth across from Matt, yawning so wide your jaw cracked. He sat there in his glasses, looking perfectly put-together like he hadnât spent the night dealing with you.
You slumped back against the vinyl seat and waved a tired hand at him, âStart talking, Matt. Clockâs ticking.â
Mattâs blind eyes stayed fixed forward, but you could feel him reading every shift in your breathing, every tiny movement. He waited until the waitress dropped off two coffees and left before speaking.
âYouâre on Fiskâs list,â he said quietly. âNot just as a random shooter. He found out that youâre Poindexterâs girlfriendââ
âEx-girlfriend.â You snorted into your coffee, the sound tired and bitter.Â
âYouâre not together?â Mattâs head tilted slightly, surprise flickering across his face.Â
You took a long sip, then shrugged, âItâs⌠complicated.â
Matt exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face like he was suddenly very tired too, âComplicated is still going to get you killed. If he thinks youâre connected to him, heâll come after you to hurt him. An eye for an eye. For Vanessa.â
You stared into your coffee for a second, the steam curling up like smoke signals you didnât want to read.
âYeah, well,â you muttered flippantly, âjoin the club. Add Fisk to the list.â You paused, then grinned sleepily, trying to redirect. âHowâs his hand, by the way? Please tell me I blew up his middle finger.â
You softly suppress a laugh bubbling up.
âI donât knowââ Matt jerked his head back, eyebrows shooting up behind his glasses. â...Why?â
You let out a loud, delirious cackleâthe kind of unhinged laugh that only comes after two days without sleep. Your head fell back and you slapped the table once, hard enough that the silverware jumped.
â...Whatâs so funny?â
âBecause thenâbecause then he canât flip anyone off when heâs mad!â you wheezed, still laughing. âImagine itâbig bad Wilson Fisk tryna tell someone to go fuck themselves and thereâs just⌠nothing there. Just a sad little stump. Heâd look so stupid.â
You cackled again, snorting accidentally, shoulders shaking, the exhaustion making everything ten times funnier than it was.Â
âIf he does math with his fingers heâs going to have a hard timeââ
Matt just sat there, lips twitching like he was fighting a smile and losing. He looked away covering his mouth, a quiet laughter escaping despite his obvious effort not to encourage you.
âYou really are sleep-deprived,â he said, almost fondly, âHow are you even gonna drive that bike home?â
âIâll be fineâŚâ your laugh faded, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. âThis is nothing.â
Matt shook his head as you calmed down, the corner of his mouth stayed curving up.
âLook, I want you to know, Iâve got your back.â he said, leaning forward a little, voice dropping into that familiar, protective register. âIf you need help, you call me. Day or night. In times like this...we need to stick together.â
You gave him a tired little nod, appreciating it even through the fog of exhaustion. He paused, then sighed like heâd been holding it in for the last ten minutes.
âBut PoindexterâŚâ Matt continued, rubbing the back of his neck. âCome onâŚyou can do better than himâyou know heâs not going to change. He is wired wrong on a level most people canât even comprehend. He needs someone stableâand youâŚâ
He let the words hang there like he hated saying them. You rolled your eyes lightly and muttered âoh here we go.â
âYouâre not that person. You know he cannot reciprocate love normally, itâs all about survival no matter how much you love himâI lost Foggy, Father Lantom and Ray because of himâI donât want you added on that list.â
âNoâŚhe was manipulated, thereâs a difference.â you gritted out to prove your point.
You stared at him, the exhaustion making everything feel sharper and blurrier at the same time. For a second you wanted to snap at him more, to tell him he didnât know shit about you or Dex or what you could handle.
But the worst part was⌠some small, tired voice in the back of your head was whispering for you to listen.
You looked down at your coffee, jaw tight.
âBut, message received,â you said quietly, voice flat.
Matt reached across the table in an attempt to comfort, but you pulled your hand back before he could touch it.
âI should go,â you muttered, standing up. âThanks for the coffee.â
You didnât wait for him to reply. You just grabbed your jacket and headed for the door, the weight of his words sitting heavy in your chest like a boulder.
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
You didnât even make it to the bed when you arrived.
You barely made it past the threshold.
The door clicked shut behind you and the next second you just⌠collapsed. Face-down onto the couch with a heavy groan, jacket still half-on, boots still on, one arm dangling off the edge. The cushions smelled faintly like Dex and your own shampoo.Â
It shouldâve felt gross without freshening up. Instead it felt like sinking into the only safe place left in the world. For a few minutes you just lay there, cheek smashed into the cushion, eyes closed, letting the silence of the apartment settle over you. The cut on your temple throbbed dully.Â
You were out cold in seconds.
Dex crossed the room slowly and crouched down in front of the couch like he had beforeâright in your line of sight so you couldnât ignore him.
âRough night Soldier?â
You didnât even lift your head. Just made a tired little noise of acknowledgment, too drained to form actual words.
Dex reached out and brushed a strand of hair off your face. His thumb lingered on your cheek for a second, then slid up to trace the dried blood along your temple.
âYou shouldâve cleaned this⌠it might get infected,â he murmured.
You hummed lazily.Â
Dex stayed and you felt him rubbing your back stifflyâthe way he did when he was trying to be empathetic. Your breathing evened out as you slipped deeper under, body finally giving in on the couch with Dexâs hand still resting protectively on your back.
At some point, dimly, you became aware of hands at your jacket, the muted clink of your boots hitting the floor. Dex was saying something under his breath, low and irritated but the words blurred together before you could make them out.
â
You woke up after two hours. That was all it took and the serumâs done its job for you to feel refreshed and clearer-headed.
You blinked at the ceiling, realizing you were no longer on the couch. You were in your bed, tucked under the covers. Your work clothes were gone, replaced with one of your soft, oversized shirts. The faint taste of toothpaste lingered in your mouth.
Someone had moved you, cleaned you up and changed you.
You sat up, wiping a small streak of drool from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, and glanced at the clock. 9:30 a.m.
You swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, bare feet silent on the hardwood and padded through the apartment looking for him.Â
Living room: empty, the hole in the drywall already patched and sanded smooth like it had never existed. Kitchen: spotless. Bathroom: dark.
No sign of him.
You were back in the bedroom when his voice drifted in from its balcony.
âLooking for me?â he called out lightly.
You turned.
Dex was leaning against the railing, shirtless in the morning light, fresh bandage still in place. A mug of coffee steamed in his hand. He took a slow sip, eyes dragging over you like he was trying to figure out which version of you had woken upâthe exhausted one, the angry one, or the one that still wanted to pin him to a wall.
You crossed the room in quick strides, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him inside.
âAre you crazy?â you hissed, sliding the balcony door shut behind him with a sharp snap. You yanked the curtains closed too, plunging the room back into soft morning dimness. âAnyone could see you out there. The whole city is looking for you, and youâre just⌠just sunbathing like a cat?â
Dex let you manhandle him, but the second the curtains were drawn his eyes narrowed and he noticed the way your eyes darted toward the windows like you expected someone to be watching.
âIs there a problem?â he asked, voice deceptively calm as he set his coffee down.
You sighed, letting the curtain slip from your fingers. You turned to face him fully, arms crossing tight over your chest.
âYes,â you addmited. âThere is a problem.â
Dex took one step closer, then another, crowding you just enough that you had to look up at him.
âTell me.â he murmured, reaching out to brush his knuckles along your arm. You wet your bottom lip, the nervous habit betraying you.
âThe Deputy Director is onto me.â you said quietly. âApparently those agents you killed reported their last location.â
The corner of his mouth twitched.
âYou want me to deal with him?â His voice was soft. His hand slid from your arm to your waist, pulling you in until your bodies were flush. âI can make it look like an accident. Heart attack in his sleep. Car crash on the way home. Your choice, Ace.â
You shook your head, pressing a hand to his chest to keep some distance even as he held you close.
âNo,â you said firmly. âI need to know if heâs connected to Fisk first⌠before deciding anything, he's a good mentor okay?â
Dexâs brow furrowed slightly, head tilting like youâd just spoken in another language. Then he let out a short, disbelieving huff of laughter.
âWhatâs the difference?â he asked, eyes narrowing with genuine confusion. âWhether heâs on Fiskâs payroll or not doesnât change the fact that heâs a threat to yourâŚimage now.â
His grip on your waist tightened, possessive and warm, thumb still tracing those lazy circles like he was trying to soothe you into seeing reason.
âIf heâs sniffing around you, he needs to go. Simple as that.â
You reached up and cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to keep looking at you.Â
âThere are other ways to solve a problem,â you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes. âIf you want to prove yourself to me, youâre not going to kill him yet, okay?â
You slid your hand up his chest, resting it right over his heart, feeling it beat hard and fast under your palm.
âOnly if heâs working with Fisk then do it, if not?â You gave him a small, sweet smile. âThen youâre not going to touch him. Can you do that? For me?â
Dex stared at you, visibly warring with the part of him that wanted to rip Masonâs throat out right then and there. Finally he exhaled through his nose and gave one sharp nod.
âYeah,â he muttered. âI can do that.â
You smiled wide, looping your arms over his broad shoulders and pulling yourself flush against him. Your fingers traced lazy patterns at the nape of his neck, nails lightly scraping his skin, feeling the shiver that ran through him as you tilted your head and looked up through your lashes.
âReally?â you purred, dropping into that low, seductive register. âCan you? Because Iâm having some trust issues here, BenjaminâŚâ
You pressed your body closer, letting your clothed breasts brush against his chest as you rose onto your toes, lips hovering just below his.
âYou said youâll listen⌠you say youâll be good for meâŚâ Your fingers tightened slightly in his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch. âBut you didnât. So forgive me if I need a little⌠reassurance.â
âI willâŚâ
Dex leaned in instantly, chasing your lips like a man starved, eyes half-lidded and hazy. You leaned back at the last second, keeping that teasing inch of space between you.
âAre you sure?â you asked, sugary sweet and dripping with mock innocence.
âYeahâŚâ he murmured, still trying to close the distance. Looking drunk on you already.
Your nose scrunched up in that adorable, dangerous way as your smile turned sharper.
âShould we do a little exercise on that?â you whispered, still hovering so close he could almost taste you.Â
Dex let out a breathless chuckle, that half-grin tugging at his mouth like he was already enjoying whatever game you were playing.
âWhat exerciââ
Before he could finish, you shoved him hard in the chest with both hands.
Dex fell back onto the bed with a surprised grunt, eyes flashing with dark delight. He propped himself up on his elbows and started scooting up the mattress, backing toward the headboard as you stalked after him on all fours.
You straddled him, knees planted on either side of his hips, hovering just above him without giving him the satisfaction of your weight. You reached over to the nightstand, grabbed the handcuffs from the drawer, and dangled them in front of his face, letting the metal catch the light.
âOh, hell no,â he growled, the playful tone vanishing. He bucked hard, using his core to throw you off, and used the momentum to flip you both. Years of tactical training made him fast and precise even while injured.
You landed on your back with a surprised squeal. Suddenly Dex was on top, pinning your wrists above your head with one strong hand.
You laughed flirtatiously, letting him think he had the upper hand for a moment. You were stronger, but right now you were enjoying the heat of the struggle, the way his muscles flexed and strained against yours.
You grinned up at him, eyes sparkling with challenge. Dex smirked, thinking he had youâuntil you twisted your wrists free with effortless strength, hooked a leg around his waist, and flipped him right back over.
Now you were on top again, straddling his chest. Dex growled and bucked hard, trying to throw you off. You rode the movement, grinning down at him as you caught his wrists and slammed them above his head.
âFuckââ he snarled while the staples pulled, half-laughing and frustrated, still writhing underneath you. âGet off meââ
You leaned down and whispered against his mouth, âMake me.â
He surged up again, using every bit of skill and leverage he had, nearly flipping you before you pinned him harder, thighs squeezing his torso like a vice. The wrestle turned messy and heated; hands grabbing, bodies sliding, breath mingling in sharp pants.
You were holding back. A lot. Especially now that youâd recharged and Dex knew it. That only made him fight dirtier, more desperate, more turned on.
âStay down,â you hissed. Finally you got both his wrists pinned above his head again, leaning your full weight on him, panting softly as you looked down at his flushed, furious, beautiful face.
Dex bucked hard again. âYouâre not cuffing me, you little shitââ
âToo late,â you whispered triumphantly, lips brushing his ear as you clicked one cuff around his wrist anyway.
Dex let out a frustrated groan that quickly turned into a deep, breathless laugh. He kept struggling just enough to make it fun while you secured the other wrist to the headboard.
âFucking super soldier,â he muttered, chest heaving, looking up at you ferally. âYouâre cheating.â
You hovered back, smiling down at your handiwork: him cuffed, flushed, and glaring at you with so much want it was almost funny.
âCheating?â you echoed sweetly. âNo. This is just me reminding you what itâs like when you test me.â
Dexâs eyes locked on the cuffs. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, before grinning. You shook your head with an incredulous little laugh.
âGod, youâre so hot,â you murmured fondly. âToo bad youâve been such a dirty dog⌠you leave me no choice but to treat you like one.â
He sucked in a harsh breath at your words, letting out a gravelly little laugh. A savage, thrilled smirk lit up his face.
Holding his stare, you dragged the baggy shirt up and off, tossing it aside. Nothing but those black panties left. Your breasts bounced free, nipples already pebbled tight from the cool air and the heat in his eyes.
His gaze devoured your bare chest, breath ragged, cock thickening hard against his sweatpants, the outline pulsing visibly. You still hovered right above him, giving him zero weight, letting him soak up the sight.
âNow tell me,â you said, dragging one finger slowly down his chest, âhow exactly do you think youâre going to atone for giving me hell?â You stopped just shy of his waistband. âChoose your words carefully.â
His hips snapped up uselessly off the bed, searching for friction that wasnât coming. His breath came out shaky as he stared up at you, gears visibly turning.
âIn chargeâŚâ he rasped, giving the cuffs a deliberate little shake, the metal rattling against the headboard. âYou want to be in charge.â
A slow, satisfied smile curved your lips. You nodded, still hovering above him, breasts on full display just out of his reach.
âThatâs right,â you whispered, voice dripping with approval. âI can be in charge too. Just⌠like⌠this.â
You dropped down and rolled your hips once, teasingly grinding against his thigh, then lifted away again before he could enjoy it. Dexâs expression darkened instantly. His jaw clenched tight, eyes flashing with irritation and that familiar need for dominance.
âAw, baby,â you cooed, dragging your nails lightly down his chest again. âLook at you getting all mad suddenly. Is this hard for you? Not being the one in charge?â
Dexâs nostrils flared. He let out a dark, dangerous chuckle that vibrated through his chest. He yanked hard at the cuffs, metal biting into his wrists as he stared up at you with looks that could cut.
âWhen these cuffs come off,â he growled viciously, âIâm going to wrap my hand around that pretty throat while I ruin every hole youâve got and make you scream so loud the neighbors think Iâm killing you sloââ
Slap.
Your palm connected with his cheek just enough to sting and shut him up. Dexâs head snapped to the side. For a second the room went dead silent except for his ragged breathing.
God, that felt good.
Youâd wanted to do that for so longâever since you found out heâd been looking at Julie like she could give him something you couldnât. You flexed your fingers, admiring the faint red mark blooming on his cheek, and let out a soft, almost dreamy sigh.
âMmm. Iâve been wanting to do that for a while,â you admitted, pleased. âFeels even better than I imagined.â
Dexâs eyes flashed with anger again. His chest heaved as he slowly turned his head back to look at you smiling innocently.
âYouâre failing this exercise real bad, Benjamin,â you murmured, patting his reddened cheek gently. âTalking like that? Threatening me while youâre cuffed to my bed?â You clicked your tongue, shaking your head. âMaybe I should just leave you here like this. Hard and unsatisfied again. Maybe you need more time to reflect.â
You started to lift off him, making a show of it.
Dexâs eyes flashed with panic, backpedalling immediately; the words tumbling out strained and growling through clenched teeth.
âOkayâokay! I get it!â he growled, still breathing hard. âI swear, I will not do anything stupid. Justâfuckâjust donât leave. I want you.â
You smiled and glided your palms from his abs up to his chest, feeling every tight muscle twitch under your touch.
âYou want me?â you asked softly.
Dex looked completely riled up, eyes wild and glassy with frustration and lust.
âEvery inch of my body wants to kill you right now,â he rasped, hips jerking up helplessly, âbut I crave you more.â
Your nostrils flared. A slow, wicked smirk curved your lips.
To Dex, that smirk was everything.
You adjusted yourself, then sank down, settling your full weight on his painfully hard bulge. The thick length pressed right against your clothed pussy, and his eyes nearly rolled back at the sudden pressure and heat.
âFineâŚâ you purred, then gritted out firmly, âThen beg.â
âFuckââ he groaned, head falling back against the pillow, the cuffs rattling loudly.
âYou want this?â you asked, rolling your hips slowly on top of him.
His jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle jump. Begging didnât come naturally to him anymore. But right now, with you grinding on his cock and looking down at him like you owned every inch, the word wanted to claw its way out.
âFuckâYes!â he forced out, angry at how much he needed it. âGive it to me.â
âThatâs not begging. Try. Again.â You grabbed the pillow from under his head and slammed it over his face. âYou want this?â you reiterated, grinding down harder, rolling your hips with purpose.
âYesâPâŚPlease.â Dex forced through the fabric, voice muffled and strained. Even though he couldnât breathe properly, his hips kept bucking up into you, chasing every roll of your body like a man possessed. You could feel him throbbing, leaking, the front of his sweatpants growing wetter with every grind as he drifted deeper into that beautiful, delirious madness.
You kept riding his hard-on like that until his muffled sounds turned ragged and his struggles against the cuffs grew sloppy.
Only then did you yank the pillow away.
Dex gasped sharply for air, chest expanding hardâonly for you to immediately replace the pillow with your mouth. You slammed into a dirty, possessive kiss, swallowing his desperate moans while he attacked back like he was drowning and you were oxygen. His tongue slid hot and frantic against yours, greedy as hell.
You pulled back just enough to hover your lips over his, so close he wanted to inch closer.
âAre you going to be a good boy for me now, Benjamin?â you whispered, sweetly and cruelly.
âYes,â he rasped, Adamâs apple bobbing hard as he swallowed. âIâll be your good boy.â
You inched back slowly, dragging your hands down his chest as you went, feeling every hard ridge of muscle twitch and shiver. You leaned down and kissed a hot, open-mouthed trail along his collarbone, then lower, sucking a mark right over his heart before moving down his abs. Dexâs breath hitched with every press of your lips, cuffs rattling as he strained to touch you.
You settled on your knees between his spread thighs and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers. With one sharp tug you ripped them down his thighs, freeing his cock.
It sprang up heavy and flushed, thick and veined, bouncing once against his stomach with a lewd slap before settling, leaking at the tip.
You sat back on your heels just admiring it. Admiring the way it throbbed under your gaze while you bit your lip; the vein running along the underside, the way it curved slightly.Â
He chuckled deeply.
âYou gonna ride it?â he rasped, hips twitching up like he couldnât help himself. That cocky, teasing smirk tugged at his lips even while he was cuffed. âOr are you scared?â
âScared?â you echoed sweetly, dragging one fingernail lightly up the underside of his dick,â...Iâm just deciding how long I want to make you keep suffering.â
His smirk faltered as you kept teasing him with feather-light touches, watching his cock jump and leak.
You kinda loved seeing him so desperate for you. The great Bullseye, reduced to a panting, cuffed mess because of you.
You leaned up on your knees, pushing your tits out as your hand dipped between your thighs. You slipped your fingers under the black panties and started rubbing slow circles over your clit, letting out a soft, breathy hum.
âThis is what you want so badly?â you asked, voice husky.
âFuck yes, give itâI mean please,â Dex begged, eyes glued to your hand, practically salivating. His mouth was open, tongue darting out like he could taste you from there.
You spread your legs wider, giving him a perfect view as you rubbed yourself, letting soft little moan slip out while biting your bottom lip just to torture him more.Â
Dexâs reaction was immediateâhe growled, deep and frustrated, yanking hard at the cuffs until the headboard creaked.
âGrrrâfuck!â he snarled, muscles straining, cock twitching angrily in the air. âLet me touch you. Take these fucking things off right now. I need toââ
âStill barking orders,â you sang.
He caught himself, breathing hard through his nose, trying to calm down. His voice dropped into something more rough and pleading.
âI already said Iâll do what you ask of me,â he almost whimpered, eyes locked on your fingers as they circled your clit. âPlease⌠I want to fuck you so badly. Iâll do anything. Whatever you want, fuckâI swear.â
You responded with a laugh and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. You peeled them down, sliding the soaked fabric down your thighs while keeping your legs spread for him. The way Dexâs eyes followed every movement. You could see the pure anguish in his face as your glistening pussy was finally revealed, right in front of his aching cock, close enough to touch but so far out of reach.
You sat back on your ass, legs still spread, letting him stare. Then you dragged two fingers through your slick folds, coating them thoroughly, before sinking your middle and ring finger deep into your tight heat with a solid moan.
Dexâs whole body jerked. An angry groan came from him as he watched you finger-fuck yourself, right there in front of him.
âUghâYou sadistic little bitch,â he growled, wrecked by lust and rage.Â
You pulled your fingers out with a wet sound, lifted them to your mouth, and sucked them clean, eyes locked on his the entire time. You moaned softly around your own fingers, tasting yourself while he watched, helpless.
Dexâs head fell back against the pillow with a loud groan, cuffs rattling violently.
âJesus Christââ he rasped, âI canâtâI need to be inside you. Please, babyâŚâ
Dex looked like he was about to lose his mind.
You reached down and wrapped your hand around his throbbing shaft, giving it one slow, firm stroke from base to tip. Dexâs hips jerk like heâd been electrocuted, and gasped, âOh my godââ ripping out of him as his eyes squeezed shut.
You kept stroking him lazily, thumb circling the leaking head on every upstroke, spreading his precum while you watched his face contort with pleasure and frustration.
âIf you fuck up again,â you said in a military tone of voice, still pumping him with slow, torturous strokes, âI wonât just leave you like this. Iâll keep you cuffed here for days. Iâll edge you until youâre crying and begging and losing your fucking mindâthen Iâll ride your face until I come, while you get nothing. And then Iâll walk away and let you stay hard and useless until I decide youâve earned it. Are we clear?â
Dexâs breath hitched, another wrecked moan spilling from his lips as you twisted your wrist just right. âYesâfuck, yes, I understand,â he gasped, hips chasing your hand desperately. âI wonât fuck up. I swear. Iâll be so good for you, baby. Pleaseââ
âGood.â
You lifted your hips, hovering right over the swollen head. Dexâs eyes were locked between your legs, breath shallow, every muscle in his body strung tight.
Then you sank down.
The first inch of your tight, wet heat enveloped him and Dexâs head slammed back against the pillow and a moan tore out of him heâd never heard himself make before.
âOhâŚâ you moaned too, sinking deeper and deeper down his shaft, taking every thick inch until your ass met his hips. âYouâre so⌠thick.â
Dexâs cock throbbed hard inside you, not just from how fucking perfect you felt, but from the words themselves. His hips jerked up on instinct, driving him even deeper.
âYou can handle it,â he managed with a wicked, cocky grin, even while completely at your mercy.
Your eyes narrowed. You grabbed the pillow from under his head and slammed it over his face again.
Dex spluttered, sucking in what little air he could through the fabric, the thrill of oxygen deprivation mixing with the mind-melting heat of your cunt clenching around him was electric.Â
You finally tore the pillow away. Dex gasped wildly for air, nostrils flaring as he sucked in oxygen, his eyes were wild, cheeks flushed.
âDonât get cocky now,â you warned.
âHow could I not,â he rasped, voice hoarse, âwhen this greedy fucking pussy is dripping and clenching like it missed me?â
Heat flooded your cheeks. He saw it immediately.
âWait,â Dex said slowly, realizing something.
âWhat?â
âYou missed me didnât you?â he teased, voice wrecked but so fucking smug. He whimpered when you slid your slick folds over his sensitive tip again. âItâs okay to admit it. Itâs only natural to get all flustered when youâre riding someone as handsome as me.â
Your eyes widened in shock, cheeks burning hotter. âWhy youââ
You shoved the pillow back into his face, hard enough that he truly couldnât breathe this time. Dexâs cock throbbed violently inside you, the lack of oxygen making him twitch and pulse like crazy and you took away the pillow again.
âBaby,â he groaned, breathless and grinning, âIâm not judging youâwhat else do I have to offer but my looks, my charm⌠and this dick thatâs currently splitting you open so good?â
âYou have more than thatâŚâ
You rolled your eyes, a fond, exasperated little huff escaping you even as you sank back down. You took him slowly at first, then faster, rolling your hips deeper and deeper with every thrust. The stretch was heavenly, almost too much, filling you perfectly.
âF-fuck, just like that,â Dex groaned beautifully as you started moving.
You rolled your hips in languid circles, one hand sliding between your thighs to rub tight and fast over your clit while the other squeezed and played with your tits, pinching your nipple hard. Soft, breathy moans spilled from your lips as pleasure built.
âHmm⌠You like watching me touch myself, donât you?â you taunted.
âOh, fuck yes,â Dex bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. His wrists strained violently against the cuffs again. âGod, thatâs so fucking hotâlet me touch you, pleaseââ
âNo, you can just enjoy the show while it lasts,â you chuckled breathlessly.
You began bouncing properly now, head falling back in bliss while your fingers flew over your clit. Dexâs eyes were glued to you, drinking in every bounce and the way your body swallowed his cock over and over. The room filled with the rattle of the cuffs mixed with the slick sounds of you fucking yourself on him and his desperate, little grunts.
He could feel you getting closerâyour walls fluttering and clenching tighter around his thick shaft, squeezing him like a vice.
He tensed his hips hard beneath you, while jerking up to meet your rhythm. He wanted nothing more than to grab your hips with both hands, press you down firmer, and fuck you through itâpounding up into you deep and relentless while you fell apart on him. But the cuffs dug into his wrists, keeping his arms pinned and useless above his head. All he could do was strain and thrust up as best he could, growling in frustration and raw need.
Your orgasm crashed into you hard. Your thighs shook violently, muscles pulsing and squeezing around him as you came with a keening moan, grinding down deep and riding every wave. Your whole body quaked on top of him, fingers still rubbing your clit through the aftershocks.
Dexâs eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan ripping from his throat as his own release slammed into him. He came hard deep inside with thick ropes of cum shooting out in heavy spurts that his whole body jerked and trembled violently beneath you. He kept thrusting up through it, chasing every last squeeze of your fluttering walls like he was addicted.
Dex swallowed hard, chest still heaving. Then a breathless chuckle escaped him, dark and full of promise. He poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes gleaming wickedly even while cuffed and spent.
âIâll have my revenge,â he muttered roughly and dripping with filthy intent. âJust you wait.â
You chuckled as you slowly lifted yourself off him, still trembling a little from the intensity of it. Dex hissed softly through his teeth at the sudden loss of warmth.
You leaned forward, brushing your fingers over his wrists before undoing the first cuff. Then the second. The moment the metal clicked free, his arms dropped with relief. You rubbed lightly over the red marks left behind, and a small smile tugged at your mouth.
âIâll look forward to it,â you murmured.
Dexâs expression sharpened instantly at that.
âOh you should.â he surged upright and caught you around the waist, pulling you straight into his lap with a suddenness that made you laugh softly in surprise. His mouth crashed against yours immediately; hot, needy and impatient.
There was nothing restrained about him now that he could touch you.
One hand slid up your sides, fingertips dragging over sensitive skin before spreading splayed across your back. The other cupped your breast possessively, squeezing firmly enough to pull a muffled sound from your throat. Dex swallowed it with another kiss, groaning deeply against your mouth while his hands kept roaming like he couldnât decide where he wanted you most.
His fingers traced your spine, then your waist again, clutching you closer against him.
âYou feel so soft,â he muttered between kisses, âChristââ
You felt him shift underneath you, already trying to pull you tighter against his hips despite the healing wound in his side. His thumb brushed over your nipple while he kissed you deeper, breathing hard through his nose.
Immediately you pulled back enough to grab his wrist.
âDex.â
He kissed along your jaw instead, stubborn and distracted, hand sliding back up your ribs.Â
âMm?â
You caught his face this time, making him actually look at you, his lips swollen from kissing.
Dex exhaled hard through his nose, visibly annoyed by the reminder. Even now his thumbs kept stroking against your skin absentmindedly, like he physically couldnât stop touching you.
âIâm fine.â he muttered, âIt barely hurts now.â
âYou are absolutely not fine.â
His eyes narrowed a little, but there was heat there more than irritation. He leaned his forehead against yours with a frustrated groan.
ââŚYouâre really ruining my plans here,â he muttered again.
A laugh slipped out of you, âYouâll survive.â
He leaned in to steal one more slow kiss, âYeah,â he murmured against your lips. âBut Iâm gonna complain about it.â
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
Dex is completely knocked out beside you lips parted, dead to the world after draining himself.
âBig talker,â you whisper with a soft laugh, âbut look at you now.â
He lay on his back now, one arm flung out toward you, head turned slightly in your direction like even in sleep he was reaching for you.
Because you didnât get your way that timeâHe flipped you onto your back ignoring your advice.Â
âFuck your authority right now,â heâd growled and had you on your back in seconds, that big cock slamming back inside before you could even refuse him again. He fucked you stupid; pissed and obsessed at the same time, growling shit like ââjust to be clear this isnât my revenge, iâm just not satisfied yet,â while he had you pinned and screaming into the pillow as he bit and sucked marks all over your breasts, your neck, your inner thighs, your stomach, even the soft skin right above your clit.Â
He made you come thrice, shaking and squirting around him; heâd flipped you, folded you, fucked you from behind while yanking your hair, then flipped you right back and pounded you missionary so he could watch your face while he filled you up with load after load.Â
By the end you were absolutely peppered in dark bite marks and possessive purple kiss marks from your collarbones all the way down to your thighs.
Youâre pretty sure your neighbors know his name by now.
You lay beside him, propped on one elbow, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Your fingers moved on their own, tracing the thin, faded scar that ran along his right cheek. The skin there was smooth under your fingertip, softer than you expected. His face was completely relaxed; no more tension in the jaw, no calculating sharpness in his brow.Â
He just looked⌠peaceful.
He looked⌠normal.
For a moment it almost hurt how normal he looked. Like any man sleeping beside the woman he loved. Like someone who could be gentle. Like someone who couldâ
You know heâs not going to change, right?
Your throat tightened.
He needs someone stable. Youâre not that person.
Your heart clenched so hard it felt like it was cracking open. You pulled your hand away from his face like youâd been burned. The absence of his warmth on your fingertips made the room feel colder.
No one else was coming. No team. No friends. No family waiting in the wings to pull you back from the edge. Matt might call, might check in, but you both knew it was a professional concern dressed up as friendship.Â
Dex was your air even though that air is extremely polluted.Â
You knew he wasnât stable. You knew this was dangerous. You knew loving him meant walking a tightrope over a pit you might never climb out of. But you also knew what it felt like to be alone in a city full of people. And you werenât ready to feel that again.
You stared at his sleeping face for a while, the quiet rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room.
When was the last time things felt normal with him?
The memory came uninvited. It was early on, back when he was still FBI, before Fisk. Youâd been on the rooftop of the old field office after a long case, the city lights glittering below. Dex had found an old baseball in one of the storage rooms and decided, for reasons only he understood, that you needed to learn how to throw a proper curveball.
Heâd stood behind you, chest to your back, one hand guiding your arm, the other on your hip. His voice had been low and patient in your ear.
âRelax your wrist. Like this. See? Not too much force. Just let it roll off your fingers when you throw.â
Youâd thrown it âterriblyâ.Â
Heâd laughed, actually laughed, that rare sound that made your chest feel too full. Then heâd picked the ball up, thrown it himself with perfect form, and looked back at you with this almost shy little smile, like he was proud of himself for knowing something so ordinary.
He wasnât Bullseye. He was just Benjamin. Teaching his girl how to throw a baseball on a random rooftop because he wanted to feel normal with her.
Youâd had all of him then.
Then most.
Then some.
Now⌠none.
You were holding on to whatever was left with bloody fingers, telling yourself you could still fix him. That everyone could be redeemed if someone just loved them hard enough. That you could be the one who made the difference.
You didnât know if you believed it. It was delusional but it was all you had left.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
You pushed the cart down the produce aisle, eyes scanning the apples. Dex had insisted on coming. Youâd argued for twenty minutes that he is a wanted man but heâd given you that look. The one that said if he stayed cooped up in your apartment any longer he was actually going to lose what little was left of his mind.
So here you were. Playing house in a grocery store.
Youâd dressed him up like a downtown fuckboy trying too hard to be incognito: bomber leather jacket over a hoodie, baseball cap pulled low, sunglasses on even though it was now overcast outside. âKeep your head down,â youâd hissed before you left the car. Heâd just smirked and said, âYes, maâam.â
But is he doing it? No.
You picked up a couple of apples, inspecting them, when you heard the rustle of plastic behind you. Dex had wandered off and returned, dropping an entire bunch of bananas into the cart with a satisfied little hum.
Then he disappeared again.
You sighed, already regretting every life choice that led you here, and moved on to the dairy section.
You reached to grab a carton of milk, when a loud crash echoed from a couple aisles overâfollowed by startled gasps and the sound of things scattering across the floor.
Your stomach dropped.
You abandoned the fridge and rushed toward the noise, heart hammering. When you rounded the corner, a small crowd had gathered around a display of knocked-over canned goods and scattered boxes. Employees were already hurrying over with brooms.
Before you could spiral, Dex popped up right behind you, casually popping a grape into his mouth.
âTsk tsk,â he muttered around the fruit, looking at the mess with fake disapproval. âSo clumsy.â
You stared at him sighing in relief. He stared back, the picture of innocence behind those stupid sunglasses, chewing his grapes like he hadnât just caused a minor grocery store disaster.
âWhy the hell did you do that?â you snapped under your breath, eyes darting around to make sure no one was paying too much attention. âWeâre trying not to get recognized.â
Dex just popped another grape into his mouth, chewing slowly with that shit-eating little smirk hidden behind the sunglasses.
âThey had a bad stacking job,â he said innocently, shrugging. âIt wasnât me, it was gravity.â
You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling through your teeth.
âShouldâve just left you at home.â you muttered, already steering the cart toward the checkout trying to outrun the chaos he left behind.
Dex fell into step beside you, still eating his grapes like they were complimentary samples.
âRelax,â he murmured, amused. âNo oneâs looking at me now. Theyâre all looking at the mess. Itâs called a perfect distraction.â
You shot him a glare but kept moving.
Checkout was mercifully quick. You paid in cash, ignoring the way the cashier kept glancing at Dexâs sunglasses-and-cap combo like she was trying hard to place him. The second the bags were in the cart, you practically dragged him out the automatic doors.
You were halfway to the car when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. A black SUV sat idling two rows over, windows tinted way too dark for broad daylight. It definitely wasnât there when you went in.
âTen oâclock,â you muttered, barely moving your lips.
Dex didnât even glance that way. He just shifted the grocery bags in his arms and answered under his breath, âAh, fans.â
His voice was light and playful, but you felt the shift in himâlike a switch flipping from lazy boyfriend to predator.
You kept walking like nothing was wrong. âPretend you donât see them.â
âWhat do you think Iâm doing?â he shot back, the smirk clear in his voice. âOr we could go say hiâŚIâm feeling good and real friendly today.â
You elbowed him hard in the ribs, right over his still-healing wound. He hissed but didnât miss a step.
The second you were both inside the car, your heart slammed against your ribs. Dex tossed the bags in the back and dropped into the passenger seat as you peeled out of the lot.
You checked the rearview. The SUV pulled out right behind you.
âGreat,â you muttered, deliberately turning the opposite direction of home.
Dex leaned back, eyes on the side mirror, that lazy grin still in place. âStalker alert.â
âJust keep watching them,â you snapped, weaving through traffic. Go by The Chemical Brothers pulsed low through the speakers, the beat syncing with your pulse.
Dex glanced at the mirror again.Â
âTheyâre still with us, three cars back,â he said. âYou could maybe go faster than your grandma drives? Just a thought.â
You tightened your grip on the wheel and pressed the gas a little harder.
âIâm trying not to cause a damn accident!â you hissed, swerving around a crawling truck. The SUV accelerated behind you, closing the gap fast.
Dex chuckled, low and dark. âRelax, baby. I think you're doing great. For a civilian.â
The first gunshot cracked through the air. You ducked instinctively as the rear window spiderwebbed. âCivilian my assâShit!âÂ
Dex was already twisting in his seat. âYou got a gun in here or are we doing this with the eggs and frozen peas?â
âGlove boxâunder the seatâsomewhere!â you shouted, swerving around a car. âAnd stop moving, I canât see!â
âLeft! Hard left!â he barked, yanking the pistol out.Â
âIâm going left, you asshole!â
Dex hit the sunroof button, shoved it open, and hauled himself up with that terrifying grace he had even when half-injured. Wind whipped at his hair and jacket as he opened fireâthree precise shots that dropped the driver like a puppet with cut strings.
The SUV behind you swerved wildly and smashed into a fire hydrant, but two more appeared in its place, closing fast.
âDex, get back in here before you lose your head!â
âIâm a little busy, honey!â he yelled over the wind, squeezing off another round. âWhy donât you try driving like you stole the car?â
You jerked the wheel hard to avoid a turning van, bullets pinging off the trunk. Dex nearly tumbled out and cursed loud enough to be heard over the engine.
âWill you stop swerving like a goddamnââ
âStop bitching and kill them!â you screamed. âYouâre Bullseye, arenât you?!â
He dropped back down for half a second, breathing hard, then grinned like a maniac. âNot if you keep driving like that!â
Before you could bite back, he reached over, unbuckled your seatbelt, and yanked you toward him. In the middle of the chaos you slammed the brakes just enough for him to scramble over you into the driverâs seat. As you slid across his lap, he leaned down and sank his teeth into your assâhard.
You yelped. âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?!â
He just laughed, wild and bright, hands already locking onto the wheel.
You snatched your neck gaiter from the center console and yanked it up over your face while Dex floored it. The car shot forward like a rocketâcutting lanes, running reds, taking turns so sharp the tires screamed, even hopping the sidewalk for half a block.
You popped up through the sunroof, gun in hand, wind tearing at your hair. Two SUVs were still on your tail, closing fast.
You firedâthree shots, then four more. One tire exploded. Another windshield shattered. The lead SUV fishtailed violently and slammed into a parked car.
Two more kept coming.
One pulled up beside you. You ducked inside as bullets shredded the passenger window. Dex swerved violently, nearly kissing a bus, then straightened with another unhinged laugh.
Suddenly he cranked the wheel hard left, whipping a violent, completely illegal U-turn. The world blurred. The two SUVs tried to follow and ended up splittingâone on your left, one on your rightâboxing you in.
You popped back up through the sunroof with a gun in each hand, arms stretched wide like a gunslinger. Wind whipped your hair as you locked onto both drivers at once.
Bang. Bang.
Both slumped instantly.
You dropped back into the seat, breathing hard, eyes wide, neck gaiter still in place.
Dex glanced over at you, eyes bright with adrenaline and pride. âHoly shit.â
âGet us out of here,â you panted, âBefore more show upâlike the authorities.â You shoved a fresh mag into the pistol trying not to smile.Â
Ă Ă Ă Ă
The car was a wreck.
Bullet holes riddled the trunk and doors like metallic acne. One back window was completely gone. You sat on the hood under a deserted bridge, the river murmuring below, while Dex paced in front of you like a caged animal. Your arm burned from a fresh graze, and the cut on your temple had reopened, blood trickling down the side of your face again.
Youâd been arguing for fifteen straight minutes, because of Matt Murdock.
âI donât need to tell you everything!â you snapped, voice echoing under the concrete.
âHe warned you about Fisk and you waited until we were in a fucking shootout to mention it?â
âJesus Christââ
âThe blind knight in shining fucking armor swooping in to warn you about Fisk. How convenient,â Dex snarled, now standing firm. âHow long has he been âchecking on youâ huh? How many little private talks have you two been having behind my back?â
You let out a sharp, bitter laugh that bordered on hysterical.
âOhhh, thatâs fucking rich coming from you!â you shouted, shoving off the hood to stand toe-to-toe with him. Blood smeared across your cheek as you jabbed a finger at his chest. âWhy donât we bring Julie back to the table, huh?! Hey Julie! I heard you had a nice dinner with my ex-boyfriend! Real cozy, right? Did she make you feel all nice and mentally stable while I was too much for you?â
His jaw locked tight, but you didnât stopâthe words poured out, venomous and exhausted.
âAnd now youâre mad that Murdockâwhoâs never once tried to fuck meâwarned me about the man who wants an eye for an eye? Fuck you, Dex. Matt saved your life.â
âEnough.â
He rolled his shoulders once, then slowly cracked his neck to the left⌠then to the right.
âI am fucking sick of hearing her name.âÂ
He stood up straighter, towering over you. The heat was gone. What remained was ice-cold, emptiness. His hand came up slowly, fingers brushing a strand of hair off your bloody temple with terrifying tenderness.
âYou want to keep bringing her up? Fine. But every time you do, remember this.â His voice dropped to a whisper, lips brushing your ear. âI never felt bad about how she ended up dead.â
Dex tilted his head, studying your face like you were an interesting insect. âBut you⌠you keep dragging her corpse out every time you want to hurt meâŚI wonder what would happen if I stopped being so patient with you.â
Your eyes burned as you searched hisâlooking for the man who once taught you baseball on a rooftop, for any trace of the Dex who used to laugh with you. All you found was that cold, empty calculation. The monster who could kill without remorse.
Without breaking eye contact, you reached behind you, pulled your gun from your waistband, checked the chamber with a sharp click, and pressed it into his palm.Â
âI also want to know, why not beat Fisk to it?â you whispered, voice hushed even as your eyes glistened at the rim. You stepped forward until the barrel kissed your forehead.Â
Dexâs fingers tightened around the grip. His breathing stayed even, too even. For one terrifying second the world narrowed to the cold metal and the empty look in his eyes. Part of youâthe exhausted, heartbroken partâalmost wanted him to do it. To end the cycle.
Dexâs breathing grew shallow. His jaw clenched so tight the muscle stood out like a wire. The gun trembled once in his hand.
Thenâbang.
He fired. The shot cracked inches from your temple, the muzzle flash burning white across your vision as the bullet screamed past and punched into the concrete pillar behind you.
You flinched, ears ringing.
Dex stared at you, eyes wide and wild like heâd surprised even himself. Then the control snapped. He made an aggressive, guttural sound and hurled the gun sideways into the river with vicious force.Â
It hit the water with a distant splash.
He stood there breathing hard through his teeth, hands opening and closing at his sides like he didnât trust them anymore. His shoulders were still rolled forward, ready to snap again.Â
When he finally looked at you, there it wasâthat strikingly forlorn look in his eyes. As if youâd just ripped his heart out and shown it to him. It makes you want to run over to him and kiss him. But the violence still flickering behind the pain kept you rooted.
âI canât,â he whispered, voice cracking like it physically hurt him. âI canât fucking do it.â
He looked smaller suddenly, the towering menace folding in on itself.
âI canât fucking do it,â he says, snorting before shaking his head. âEven when you want me to.â
You couldnât say anything and kept looking straight ahead except his eyes, tears finally slipping down your cheeks.
He stepped in close again, crowding you back against the wrecked car until it dug on the back of your legs. One hand slammed flat on the hood, caging you in.
âI wonât set you free,â His eyes were glassy as he laughed unhingedly, âYou donât get to provoke me and then check out on meââ his grin vanished, ââwithout youâŚI am nothing. Iâve been so alone my whole lifeâeverything taken away from me⌠and Iâm not going back to that.â
You couldnât look at him anymore.
The tears kept falling, hot and silent, as Dexâs confession hung in the air. His words should have terrified you. Instead they settled heavy in your chest, cracking something deep that had been holding on by a thread for months.
This wasnât his fault.Â
(Play Down With The Sickness. Trust me)
He was trying his best to be good, heâd asked you for structureâbut you canât put him back in the shark tank. Youâd seen the man on that rooftop, sharing his favorite hobby with you. That man was still in there somewhere, buried under all the shit Fisk and the FBI piled on top of him. They broke him. They used and crucified the person you loved.
You gave Dex every good piece of yourself and they burned all of it to ash. And you realized, with a sickening clarity, that they would do the exact same thing to you. No matter how loyal you were. No matter how many times you bled for them. They would chew you up and spit you out the second you stopped being useful.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. The cut on your temple throbbed in time with your heartbeat.Â
Then something inside you simply⌠clicked off.Â
The air under the bridge seemed to drop ten degrees. Even the river sounded quieter, as if it knew better than to interrupt.
You wiped the last tear streaks from your face with the back of your hand like it was an inconvenience and when you lifted your gaze to Dex again, your face was blank, but your eyes⌠your eyes promised graves. The blood on your temple and cheek suddenly looked like war paint instead of wounds.Â
He took half a step back without meaning to.
You just stared through him. In your place stood someone who had decided the world owed Dex a blood debtâand she was going to collect with interest.
In your mind you saw it all unfolding like a beautiful, brutal movie: Fiskâs skull caving in under repeated blows until the light left his eyes, his empire burning around his broken body. You saw every corrupt FBI handler dragged into dark rooms, bones snapping one by one as they begged for mercy that would never come. You saw them realizing too late that the monster they created had a sharper, colder blade standing right behind him.
You tilted your head slowly, the motion almost birdlike, and a small, serene smile curved your lips.
You stepped forward, closing the distance heâd tried to create, and reached up with the most gentle, affectionate pat. Your palm was still warm from the tears youâd wiped away.
âLetâs go home, Dex.â
Your voice was soft. Sweet, even. But the calm in it was the terrifying kindâthe stillness after a guillotine blade falls.
 ÝÝâ pairs: ddba!dex poindexter x super-soldier!female reader.
 ÝÝâ themes: Morally gray FMC, Age-gap, Love-Bombing, Obsessive/Possessive Love, Dark Romance & Toxic Codependency, Emotional Manipulation, Violence as foreplay/love language, Identity & Moral Corruption, Control vs Chaos, Graphic Violence & Gore, Explicit Sexual Content (blood tasting, degradation, choking, hair pulling), Gun Violence, Murder (AVTF agents welp.), Mentions of blood, âI can fix himâ mentality, FMC who keeps trying to Dom him but failing spectacularly. Post-Prison Dex, No use of Y/N, reader will be portrayed as physically fit (literally a super-soldier), apart from that no other physical adjectives are included...i hope.
Authorâs Note: Again, this is NOT what a healthy relationship looks like. Dex will be toxic/yandere and both characters enable the worst in each other. Take care of yourself and do not read if this is not your cup of tea.
Prologue - Masterlist - Part II
Dex slammed the apartment door behind him, the cheap frame rattling the single photo on the wall. He didnât bother with the lights. The sickly orange glow from the city outside was enough. He preferred it that way now.
But your voice wouldnât leave him the fuck alone.
If you want to keep me, youâre gonna need to love me harder than that.
It looped in his head, louder than the dried blood still crusted under his nails from the two agents heâd taken care of for you. Heâd scrubbed every surface, wiped every print, bagged the bodies, and left your place spotlessâjust like you asked. And what did he get? A reluctant little âIâll see what I can doâ and that bullshit about laying low.
He wanted everything. Every second of your time. Every flicker of your attention. Every inch of that super-soldier body that used to press against him like it was built for his rituals. He wanted your image, your career, the careful little life youâd rebuiltâall of it twisted around him. Not the version of him you kept trying to leash with your rules.
He paced the narrow hallway, fists clenching and unclenching. Back when he was still FBI, before Fisk turned the whole world into a blood-soaked game, heâd done it right. Coffee exactly how you liked it. Memorized your shifts so he could âbump intoâ you. Took you to the range and let you win half the time because thatâs what normal boyfriends did. Heâd studied other couples, copied their touches, their smiles, their easy little lies. Heâd given you stability. Security.
And you still wanted harder.
He stopped at the kitchen counter, eyes narrowing at the neat row of knives. His breathing was too fast, too loud. He could still hear the way your voice dropped softly when you told him he was incapable of love. Right before you dangled yourself like bait and then ripped it away.
His hand snapped out. One of the knives left the counter in a blur and buried itself hilt-deep in the drywall with a satisfying thud.
âFuck you,â he snarled into the empty room, chest heaving.
Youâd let him bleed devotion all over your floor and then tried to send him away like some stray you could forget about.
He closed his eyes and forced the old breathing pattern. In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. Dr. Mercerâs voice floated up from somewhere deepâthose sessions heâd burned the tapes for, back when he still pretended he could be fixed.
How would you define love, Dex?
Love was taking every single piece of someone until nothing was left for anyone else. Heâd never given her the real answer.
Thatâs what heâd tried to give you. And you threw it back in his face because of Julie. Because heâd needed a stabilizer for a little while, and somehow that made him incapable in your eyes.
His eyes snapped open.
He wanted to punish you for that. The old Dex wanted to kick your door down right now and make you understand exactly who you belonged to. But that would just scare you off. Push you deeper into that perfect Sergeant armor you loved so much.
A slow, cold smile spread across his face as the new plan clicked into place.
Fine.
He was going to love you so hard youâd never get free again.
Dex pulled the knife from the wall with one calm tug, wiped the plaster dust off the blade, and set it back exactly where it belonged. Then he sat down at the table, fingers steepled, already turning the pieces over in his mind.
You were going to learn what harder really felt likeâŚbut first he needed to balance some scales.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
The Department of Damage Control never slept. Even at this ungodly hour the bullpen ran like a machine that couldnât afford to stop. You sat at your desk near the back, one leg crossed neatly over the other, your coffee steaming beside you like a prop. The wall-mounted TV played the same blurry New York chaos on loop for the fifteenth time.
âJesus Christ,â someone muttered by the printer. âYou hear that guy used a fucking oyster claw as a weapon?â
Another agent snorted. âBullseyeâs a goddamn animal.â
âGuyâs completely off the rails.â
Your eyes flicked to your phone. The tiny blinking dot on the tracker app was moving. Slowly at first⌠then picking up speed, heading somewhere it definitely shouldnât be.
What the fuck are you doing, Dex?
Youâd told him to lay low. Youâd given him clear instructions. And here he was, already drifting off course like a dog that couldnât stay on the porch.
A heavy hand landed on your shoulder.
You jolted hard enough that coffee nearly spilled. For one razor-sharp second your brain supplied Dexâs faceâhis hand, his grip, his presenceâbefore reality snapped back in.
âWhoa, easy,â Deputy Director Mason said, lifting his hand immediately. âDidnât mean to sneak up on you.â
You forced a tight, professional smile, heart still hammering. âYouâre fine, sir.â
He studied you a beat too long. âActually, I wanted to ask you something.â His voice dropped. âThe two AVTF agents sent for your welfare check the other night. Did they ever make contact?â
Your stomach plummeted, but your face stayed perfectly composedâthe same mask youâd worn standing over Julieâs apartment, feeling that cold rush of relief that someone else had handled the mess.
You could lie a dozen different ways.
âI wouldnât know,â you said smoothly, tilting your head with just the right touch of puzzled worry. âI came home really late⌠crashed hard after shift. Didnât hear a knock.â
Masonâs brow furrowed. âSo they didnât?â
You shook your head, widening your eyes just enough. âIs everything okay?â
He hesitated. Bullpen chatter swelled behind him: âYou think Bullseye got them too?â and you felt it like a gift.
You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice to that soft, intimate register you knew worked on men who wanted to feel useful. âGod, I hope theyâre alright. I wouldâve told you if theyâd come by. You know that.â
The lie tasted sweet.
Because the truthâthat Dex had killed themâdidnât serve your image. It didnât serve the careful life youâd rebuilt. And if protecting that meant feeding Mason exactly what he needed to hear, youâd keep feeding him until he choked on it.
Masonâs gaze flicked to your phone, lingering on the cracked screen. You kept your expression open and concerned.
He exhaled. âWeâll keep looking. If you hear anythingââ
âOf course,â you said softly, reaching up to briefly touch his arm. âAnything at all. Just let me know how I can help.â
He nodded and walked off. The second his back was turned, your polite smile dropped.
You picked up your phone again. The blinking dot was still hauling ass across the map, moving way too fast.Â
Where the fuck are you going?
The TV caught your attention next.
ââŚand in tonightâs local news, Wilson Fisk is hosting an exclusive charity boxing match at the old arena. Sources say itâs part of his ongoing community outreach, but with recent tensionsââ
Your head snapped toward the screen. The camera panned across the venue, flashing Fisk ringside like a king on his throne.
You pressed your lips together. Of course.
The tracker kept moving. Straight toward the arena.
Donât do this, Dex. Not tonight.
Your thumb hovered over the screen. Part of you wanted to grab your coat and go right nowâdrag him back by the scruff of his neck before he could blow everything up. But another part of you whispered that chasing him would only make it worse. Heâd see it as proof you cared. Proof you were still his. And once Dex got even a taste of that, he never let go.
For a long second you debated, thumb twitching between calling him and throwing the phone across the room. Then you set it face-down on the desk, exhaled slowly, and reached for your coffee like nothing was wrong.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
The arena was a screaming, flashing hellhole, and Dex moved through it like he was born for exactly this kind of noise.
Heâd come here to settle the scales. One clean good deed. Fisk had to die since the Devil clearly didnât have the balls to finish it and maybe if Dex put the bastard down, the static in his head would finally shut the fuck up.
He was on the floor, cutting through panicked spectators and flying chairs, hurling anything sharp he could grab. Broken champagne flute. Metal railing spike. A goddamn serving knife. Each one found its mark with surgical crueltyâthroats, shoulders, knees, eyesâclearing a path straight toward the ring.
Every throw landed perfect. Every wet impact scratched that deep itch behind his eyes.
Fisk loomed near the ring like a goddamn king, security swarming him, Vanessa tucked close in white like she wasnât married to the rot at the center of everything.
Two AVTF agents rounded the corner ahead, rifles up. Dex pivoted, arm already cocked back with a jagged shard of glass pinched between his fingersâ
POP. POP.
Both agentsâ heads snapped sideways before they dropped.
Dex froze mid-throw. That wasnât his shot.
His eyes sliced through the smoke and strobing lights until they locked on a figure half-hidden by the east exit ramp.
Black cap low. Black neck gaiter hiding the lower half of her face. Leather jacket. Silenced pistol still raised.
He knew that stance. Knew the exact angle of those shoulders. The way she steadied her breath right before the shot. The little tilt of her head afterward, scanning for the next threat.
A slow, manic grin spread across Dexâs face beneath his mask.
Another agent charged his blindside. You dropped him with two suppressed shots before Dex even finished turning. Blood sprayed across concrete.
Jesus Christ.
Heat crawled down his spine, thick and vicious. You looked so fucking beautiful like this; mask on, no polished Damage Control bullshit, no pretending. Just cold, precise death moving through the chaos.Â
His blood rushed south so fast it almost distracted him from the knife flying at his head. He snatched it out of the air and whipped it back. The blade buried to the hilt in the attackerâs throat.
His eyes found you again instantly. You lowered the pistol after another clean kill, and your gaze locked with his across the arena. Even from this distance he could see the fury burning in your eyes.
You were pissed heâd ignored your orders. Pissed heâd come here at all.
And you were still helping him anyway.
Dex felt invincibleâuntil he spotted the heavy commemorative glass ornament on the ground beside the ring. Sharp edges. Perfect weight.
He kicked it up, everything slowing around him.
He could already see it: Fiskâs skull splitting open, blood painting the ring, the noise in his head finally going quiet.
Balance.
Dex hurled it with everything he had. It cut through the air like a missile.
At the last second Fiskâs hand jerked his belt up, deflecting it. The ornament shattered against Vanessaâs head just as a bullet punched into Dexâs side.
He stumbled back into the chairs, hot blood soaking his shirt. Security surged. Somewhere across the arena he heard you shout his name.
Fisk was already raising his own gun, eyes promising slow death. Your silenced shot caught Fiskâs hand, jerking the barrel sideways. The bullet meant for Dex shattered glass somewhere behind him.
Then Daredevil (who finally caught up) slammed into him like a freight train, hauling him toward the nearest window. They exploded through it in a storm of shattering glass and cold night air.
You cursed viciously under your breath, blood trickling down the side of your face from a cut you hadnât even felt. No time to deal with it. You melted back into the shadows, slipping through the panicked crowd, dodging AVTF and Fiskâs men as you sprinted for the exit youâd scouted earlier.
Your motorcycle waited two blocks away. You ran flat out, leather jacket flapping, cap low, gaiter still hiding the lower half of your face.
By the time you reached the rooftop across from the arenaâs service exit, heart hammering and temple stinging, the street below was swarming with sirens and flashing lights. You scanned rooftops, alleys, the broken window theyâd crashed through.
Nothing.
Dex and Daredevil were gone. Vanished into the night like theyâd never been there.
You stood on the rooftop with the cold wind whipping at your jacket, blood cooling sticky on your cheek. The tracker on your phone flickered once⌠then went dark.
âFUCK!â
The shout ripped out of you, echoing across the empty roof. You cocked your arm back, ready to smash the phone into the concrete, but stopped at the last second, fingers tight around it. You still needed the damn thing.
Instead you spun and slammed your boot into the metal exhaust vent beside you with everything you had. The steel caved with a deafening clang, leaving a jagged crater like something had exploded.
You stood there panting, chest heaving, hands shaking with adrenaline and fury.
Heâd promised heâd lay low. Heâd looked you in the eye and said heâd listen. But the second your back was turned heâd gone charging into Fiskâs arena like a goddamn missile, forcing you to burn your own cover just to keep him breathing.
And now Daredevil had him.
That sick, twisting worry clawed its way up your throat. The one man in this city more relentless than Dex. What if Daredevil decided the only way to end Bullseye was to finish what Fisk couldnât?
You dragged a bloody hand down your face, smearing red across your skin, and stared at the blank tracker screen like it might magically light up again.
âYou stupid, reckless bastard,â you whispered, voice cracking. âWhen I find you⌠I swear to GodâŚâ
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
Dex woke up standing in the middle of the old FBI bullpen, feet rooted to the linoleum like a ghost watching his own life on replay.
Across the room, the memory unfolded.
Past-Dex sat at his desk, sharpening a pencil with the same four precise spins he always used. The elevator doors opened. You stepped out beside one of the Assistant Directors, nodding politely as he spoke.
His head turned without thinking and spun one-eighty on his chair just so he could keep looking. You must have felt it, because your eyes flicked over and locked with his for a beat longer than necessary before you looked away.
He watched his past self straighten a little taller in his chair.
As soon as you disappeared around the corner with the deputy, Dex turned to the nearest agent leaning against a desk.
âNadeem,â he called out quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the hallway youâd vanished down.âWho the hell was that?â
Nadeem followed his line of sight and immediately smirked. âOh, her?â He gave a low whistle. âThatâs the governmentâs latest headache.â
Past-Dex finally looked over at him.
âSheâs one of the new generation super soldiers,â Nadeem explained. âIn-between agencies right now. DoDC, FBI, counterterrorism. Everybody wants a piece of her.â
Dex listened silently and Nadeem continued, âShe used to run with the Flag Smashers.â
Dexâs past self raised an eyebrow. âThe ones who hit the GRC Headquarters?â
âYeah.â Nadeem nodded. âFrom what I heard, she walked away after the whole thing collapsed and took a deal with the Government rehab program. Now they parade her around as one of the success stories.â He shrugged. âGuess they figured itâs easier to point her at monsters than lock her in a box somewhere.â
Dex looked back toward the hallway again. Youâd laughed softly at something the AD said.
It echoed strangely in his chest.
Nadeem noticed the staring immediately and barked out a laugh, âHolyââ He pointed at him. âNo way.â
Dex frowned slightly. âWhat?â
âYouâre interested.â
âI only asked a question, how is that being interested?â
âYeah, and you never ask questions about people.â Nadeem grinned wider. âYou thinking about asking her out, Poindexter?â
Nadeemâs grin turned knowing instantly, âOh, you absolutely are.â
âI donât date. Especially not coworkers. And definitely not someone her age.â
âSheâs not technically a coworker,â Nadeem said, still smirking.
The dream shifted again, pulling him deeper.
Now he stood at the back of the elevator like a silent shadow, watching the memory play out in crisp detail.
Past-Dex stood rigid in his dark suit, hands clasped behind his back, trying to hold himself together. You were right beside him. Alone.
He remembered this ride perfectly.
Three weeks of stolen glances in hallways. Three weeks of catching fragments of your voice through closed doors. Three weeks of staying up until 3 a.m. in his dark apartment, reading every classified file he could access on the Flag Smashersâold NGO records, photos of you smiling while helping kids in refugee camps, the way the Blip had shattered everything and pushed you toward them. How youâd become their medic and logistics backbone. How youâd survived Zemoâs bombing.
Dex kept reading long after he shouldâve stopped and Dex latched onto every word because you werenât a monster in those pagesâyou were good, just a misled young adult, just broken by the same world that broke him. And if anyone could understand the rot under his skinâŚit had to be you.
The elevator dinged softly as it passed another floor.
In the memory, Dex glanced sideways again, unable to stop like his eyes were magnetised. Your head turned at the exact same moment, and your eyes met.
He looked forward immediately.
Too late.
A small, amused smile tugged at your mouth.
âWell,â you started lightly and teasing in the quiet space, âIâm pretty sure itâs illegal to keep stealing glances at someone without at least saying hello.â
You snorted softly. âNo but what's crazy is, I counted at least five stolen glances.â
His eyes flicked toward you again before he could stop it.
Six.
You caught that one too and let out a soft laugh that did something strange to his chest.
âYou did it again,â you said, clearly enjoying yourself.
Past-Dex straightened like his own body had betrayed him. âYou always notice everything?â
âYou donât survive with enhanced senses if youâre not paying attention,â you replied, leaning lightly against the wall. âEspecially not when someoneâs staring like theyâre trying to memorize me.â
He nodded once, then added, âLike the Flag Smashers?â
The words slipped out before he could pull them back. Most people shut down. You didnât. You studied him, curious instead of defensive.
âYou did your research.â
âI profile people.â
âThat sounds creepier when you say it out loud,â you teased, but there was no real bite in it.
A tiny, reluctant smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. You noticed that too, of course.
âYou know,â you said more quietly, âpeople always focus on the violence. Nobody ever asks why we got desperate enough to burn everything down.â
The elevator lights caught your face as you spoke, and Dex remembered thinking how tired you looked under all that strengthâlike someone whoâd been carrying something too heavy for too long.
âWe werenât trying to conquer the worldâokay maybe Karli tried butâŚâ you trailed off, trying to choose the right words in front of him. âMost of us were just trying to stop people from being abandoned.â
Dex stared at you openly now. He understood that feeling better than heâd ever admit out loud. The bone-deep fear of being discarded.Â
The elevator slowed to your floor.
You stepped out, then paused halfway into the hallway and looked back at him over your shoulder.
âYou gonna keep staring at me tomorrow too, Agent Poindexter?â
Past-Dex felt his throat tighten because you knew his name. ââŚProbably.â
Your grin widened, warm and a little wicked. âGood. Wouldnât want to break tradition.â
The doors slid shut between you, and the memory began to fade at the edges, bleeding back into darkness.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
Twelve hours later.
Dexâs eyes snapped open to the sound of Karen Pageâs voice cutting through the haze.
âGet up.â
He forced himself upright with a low grunt, the sharp sting in his left side flaring hot and vicious where the staples pulled tight. Handcuffs bit into his wrists. The room was dim, concrete, somewhere underground. Pain radiated with every breath, but he pushed through it, sitting up on the edge of the cot like the hurt didnât matter.
Karen sat a few feet away, watching him with that cold, unreadable stare sheâd perfected.
âStaples hurt?â she asked.
Dex let out a low, rasping chuckle that sent another spike of pain through his ribs.Â
âGood,â Karen said flatly, like she was glad.
He looked up at her, eyes glassy with exhaustion, âYou gonna shoot me, Page?â
âProbably,â she answered without hesitation.
Dexâs mouth twisted into a smile. âGo ahead. Vanessa opened a window and I went through it. Your friend Foggy paid the price. Foggy for my freedom⌠me for Foggy. Itâs just an equation.â
Karenâs expression didnât change. She smiled to herself, small and decisive because sheâd finally made peace with something ugly. She raised the gun, steady and sure, and pressed the barrel to his forehead. The hammer clicked back with a cold, metallic sound.
âThank you.â Dexâs forehead pressed harder into the barrel, eyes half-lidded like he was already tasting the end. Karenâs finger tightened on the trigger.
Before she could finish it, one arm snakes around her throat from behind in a brutal headlock, your bicep flexing hard against her windpipe as you yank her backward. Your other hand clamps over hers on the gun, shoving the barrel upward just in time.
Karenâs eyes go wide. She pulls the trigger anyway.
BANG!
The shot cracks through the concrete room like thunder, bullet slamming into the ceiling and raining down dust and chips. Dex flinches but doesnât look away, that glassy stare locked on you now.
You donât give Karen a second to recover. With a grunt you spin and hurl her across the room like she weighs nothing (because to you, she doesnât). She hits the far wall hard enough to knock the breath out of her, sliding down in a heap, gun still clutched in her hand.
You stalk over, boots echoing, and grab a fistful of her blonde hair, yanking her head back so sheâs forced to look up at you.Â
âDamn, Karen. Youâve got some balls.â you chuckled.
Sheâs gasping, eyes blazing with fury and shock, but you just smirk and pry the gun from her fingers with zero effort.Â
You start walking back toward Dex, popping the magazine out with a smooth flick of your thumb, then racking the slide to eject the chambered round. Bullets spill across the floor one by one as you move, clinking like tiny bells while you toss the empty gun nonchalantly to the side.
Dex watches you the whole time, that rasping chuckle starting up again even through the pain. âDidnât know I had a guardian angel tonight.â
You stop right in front of him and give him that pissed-off fake smile as you lowered onto the cot where Karen had been sitting, knees straddling his lap as you settled in close, the heat of your body pressing against his.
You draw your own gun, press the cold barrel right under his chin, and tilt his head back with it, hard.
âYou stupid, reckless, cocky son of a bitch,â you growl quietly, eyes locked on his. âI told you to stay the fuck down. But nooo, you just had to get yourself stapled back together like a discount Frankenstein.â
You dig the gun in a little harder, eyes locked on his glassy ones, that fake smile never wavering. âNext timeâŚIâll just make sure the bullet hits somewhere way more interesting.â
Dexâs breath catches, pupils blown wide. That rasping chuckle turns into a low, turned-on groan as he twitches and hardens beneath you like your threats are the best foreplay heâs ever had.
But then your super-soldier senses pingâsoft shift of boots on concrete, the faint click of a slide being racked. Karenâs already back on her feet, moving faster than you expected, and sheâs got a backup piece aimed right at the center of your skull.
âWhat the hell are you doing?!â Karen snaps, voice shaking with rage but steady on the trigger. âHe killed Foggy! You know that. Foggy and Matt got you your second chance. And now youâre protecting this piece of shit!?â
You slowly glance over your shoulder at her, gun still firm under Dexâs jaw, your body still straddling him like you own every inch.
âI know,â you say, voice low and even. âIâm sorry for your loss, Karen. Foggy didnât deserve thatâbut Poindexter is mine. So lower that peashooter before I have to take it from you again⌠and this time I wonât be nice about it.â
Karenâs eyes are blazing, finger twitching on the trigger, torn between grief and the raw shock of seeing you like thisâsomeone she thought she knew, now riding the man who caused so much grief.
âIf you pull that trigger, youâd better not miss⌠because I wonât.â you taunted.
Two batons come flying out of nowhere and crack hard across Karenâs wrist. The backup piece clatters to the floor as she yelps, grip completely busted for the second time today.
Matt steps into the dim room, no mask, heaving like he ran here. His blank eyes somehow still manage to look concerned as hell.
âI canât let you do that, Karen,â he says, voice low and final, already moving between you and her.
Karen crashes out; voice cracking, tears mixing with pure rage as she screams at him, gesturing wildly at Dex, at you, at the whole bloody mess. Mattâs trying to calm her, trying to pull her back, but sheâs not having it. Their argument fills the concrete space like a storm, words flying so fast you can barely track them.
You and Dex just⌠look at each other and he gives you the tiniest clueless shrug.
The argument reaches its peak. Karen rips herself away from Matt with one last broken shout, storms past the both of you without another glance, and slams the door so hard the hinges rattle.
You swing your leg off Dex and stand up slowly, gun loose in your hand. The adrenalineâs still buzzing through your veins as you turn to face Matt Murdock head-on. Heâs standing there in the dim light, sightless eyes somehow still tracking every shift in the room.
âI did not expect thisâŚâ you mutter, shaking your head, a stunned little laugh slipping out. âAll this timeâŚyouâre daredevil?â
âI know. This is not the reunion I was expecting either.â He exhales as he takes a small step closer, head tilted like heâs listening to your heartbeat, your breathing, everything. âI donât know how you crossed paths with PoindexterâŚbut this is not who you are. You know youâre better than thisâbetter than what he pulls out of you. Don't throw away what you built for someone like him.âÂ
Your eyes burned suddenly, and you hated that Matt could read you. Dex lets out a low chuckle from behind you, but you donât turn around yet. Mattâs words hit harder than you want to admit, hanging heavy in the dusty air.
âIf you know me so well⌠then who am I, Matt? The final girl? The survivor?â A bitter laugh escapes you. âYeah, I survived Zemoâs attack on the transport to the Raft. I watched the rest of myâmyâŚfriends get burned to hell while I crawled out of the wreckage with nothing but scars and a target on my back. And for what? So the government can parade me around as their shiny little success story? Meanwhile Iâm walking on eggshells every damn day, waiting for the next time they decide to finish the job because they can never really trust an ex-terrorist can they? So tell me, counselor⌠if thatâs who I am, then maybe Dex is exactly what I deserve.â
Mattâs face softens, that blind gaze somehow full of the kind of gentle worry only he can pull off. âYouâre more than the worst thing that happened to you, and you donât have to settle forââ
âNopeâsave it, Matt.â Your voice cracks but you force steel into it. âPoindexter is coming with me. Right now.â
Matt stares at you for a second, mouth pressed into a tight line like heâs biting back a whole sermon. Then he just sighs and lifts his hands in surrender.
âOkayâŚâ Matt glanced toward Dexâs direction, who was watching the whole thing with that maniacal smile plastered on his face. âBut I need five minutes with him. Alone. I have something he wants. After that⌠Iâll release him. You have my word.â
You stared at him for a long, heavy beat, jaw tight, the cold calculation still burning behind your eyes. Finally you gave one sharp nod, stepping back but not lowering your guard.
âFine.â
Matt nodded once, already turning toward Dex as you moved to wait outside the room. Mattâs five minutes felt like forever, but eventually the door opened and Dex stepped out wearing a black shirt, uncuffed and now moving under his own power. His side was freshly bandaged, face pale but eyes bright with that dangerous, satisfied sparkle.
Whatever Murdock had said to him, it looked like heâd finally gotten it.
The early evening air hit cold when you reached your motorcycle parked in the alley shadows. You yanked the spare helmet from the saddlebag and shoved it hard into Dexâs chest. He caught it with a grunt, the impact pulling at his staples. A familiar dark smirk tugging at his mouth even through the pain.
âCan I drive?â
You donât even dignify it with an answer and just swing your leg over the seat and fire up the engine with a deep, pissed-off roar.
Dex chuckled low, the sound wet from the blood in his lungs and put the helmet on.Â
âIâll take that as a no.â He climbed on behind you anyway, arms sliding around your waist a little too possessively, and pressed his chest against your back.
You rev the throttle harder than you need to, tires screaming as you peel out of the alley and tear into the empty streets. The wind whips cold against your face while you head back toward your apartmentâwhether he deserves it or not.
You can feel every shallow breath he takes against you, every tiny flinch when the road bumps pull at his wounds. Half of you wants to slam the brakes and dump his reckless ass on the curb for all the chaos he dragged you through. But the other half⌠knows heâs yours to deal with. Yours to break. Yours to keep.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
You barely get the door locked before Dex is on you from behind, his hand sliding around your waist like he just canât help himself.
You spin fast, trapping his injured arm and twisting it hard while your other hand slams into his throat. You drive him straight back into the wall with a solid thud. The impact knocks a rough grunt out of him, but instead of fighting, Dex lets out this low, wrecked chuckle that you feel vibrating against your palm.
Your grip tightened on his throat immediately.
âWhat the fuck did I tell you?â you hiss, eyes burning into his.
Dexâs head knocks against the wall as you shove him harder against it. His breathing is ragged, fresh blood already soaking through the bandages, pain flashing across his face with every inhale. But heâs still smiling like this is heaven.
âYou told me to lay low,â he rasps, voice strained under your grip.
âAnd what did you do?â
âI improvised.â His eyes glittered up at you with that same dangerous, obsessive brightness from the arena.
You squeeze harder, cutting off more of his air. Another pleased, broken sound slips out of him.
âYou ignored every single warning I gave you,â you snarled, voice shaking with pure fury. âYou got half the city gunning for you, nearly got yourself killed, and dragged me into your shitshow. All because you canât sit still for one goddamn night.â
Dex swallowed carefully beneath your palm, never breaking eye contact.
âYou really gonna stand there and act like I forced you into any of this?â he whispered, each word chosen so precisely. âSweetheart⌠I never asked you to come find me. You did all of that on your own, you were able to track me. You put a bullet in Fiskâs hand and nearly crushed Karen on the wallâYou did all that because losing me made you crazy.â
He leaned into your grip, letting the pressure on his throat turn the words intimate and almost loving.
âAnd now youâre angry at me for it?â His voice dropped lower, warm and coaxing, âIâm the one whoâs supposed to be the monster here⌠but look at you. Holding my life in your hands, covered in blood you spilled for me, and still pretending this wasnât exactly what you wanted.â
Dexâs eyes softened just enough to look wounded and vulnerable, like he was the one being hurt by your accusations.
âI only ever gave you the chance to be exactly who you are,â he murmured. âThe rest⌠that was all you. And I loved every second of it.â
That does it.
You shove him off the wall with a violent push, letting go of his throat like it burned you. Dex stumbles, coughing once, then rubs his neck slowly, fingers tracing the marks you left like heâs proud of them.
âGoddamn,â he rasps, voice hoarse. His eyes rake down your body and back up, dark and hungry. âI canât be around you when you get like this. That strength⌠fucks me up every time.â
You turn away from him with a sharp scoff. âShut your mouth, Dex.â
He laughs under his breath, the sound following you as you storm toward the bathroom. You rip open the cabinet, grab the first aid kit and a towel, and slam them on the counter.
âClean yourself up,â you snap, cold and flat. âIâm not dealing with your horny death-wish bullshit tonight.â
Dex just chuckles again, low and satisfied, already peeling off his shirt as he follows you into the bathroom like he owns the damn place. His eyes never leave you.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
You barely hear the bathroom door click before Dex steps out, hair damp and messy, water still dripping down his neck. Heâs got one hand hovering near the ugly line of staples along his side, wincing every time his fingers accidentally brush the raw skin.
Youâre parked on the couch, remote clenched in your fist, staring at the grainy news footage. Thatâs you on the screen. The chyron at the bottom read: Authorities seek mysterious masked vigilante believed to be working with Daredevil and Bullseye.
ââŚpossibly a new player or accomplice in last nightâs chaos. Law enforcement is asking anyone with informationââ
Dex plucks the remote from your hand, clicks the TV off, and drops it on the coffee table with a loud clack.
Your eyes follow him as he stands there in front of youâbroad shoulders, droplets sliding down his chest, that fresh bandage already starting to peek red at the edges. You stood up without a word, pointing at the spot on the couch where youâd been sitting.
âSit.â
Dex didnât argue. He lowered himself onto the cushion with a tight grunt, one hand still hovering near his injury, trying not to touch it this time.
You grab the fresh supplies from the side table, drag the coffee table closer, and perch on the edge like itâs your personal stool. Then you start cleaning around the staples, jaw locked, shoulders tight.
Dex watches you the whole time, hazel eyes soft and burning. He can see the storm youâre barely holding back.
You press the fresh gauze down a little harder than necessary. Dex jerks hard, a muffled âMotherfuckerââ slipping through his teeth.Â
You donât apologize.
You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the tiny, satisfied smirk from breaking free. Good. After he put you through nearly twenty-four hours of no rest, he can take a little sting.
He catches the twitch at the corner of your mouth anyway. âYou think this is funny?â he rasps, voice still rough.
âHold still,â you answer sweetly, pressing the tape down extra slow just to hear that gravelly grunt again.
Dex exhaled through his nose, watching you fuss about taping it neatly. After a moment he spoke again, serious this time. âYou shouldnât watch the news. Not if itâs going to put that look on your face.â
You didnât answer. Instead you busied yourself gathering the bloody gauze, the discarded wrappers, bundling everything into a tight little ball. If you didnât throw this out immediately, Dex would start twitching and get all icky about it. You werenât in the mood to manage one of his episodes on top of everything else.
You stood, turning your back to him as you headed for the trash can in the kitchen, shoulders still tight. The movement gave you a second to breathe, to push down the knot of panic and anger still lodged in your chest.
Dexâs eyes followed you the whole way, tracking every movement, âI mean it,â he added quietly. âTurn it off and leave it off.âÂ
You stayed silent and rinsed your hands at the sink instead, letting the water run longer than needed while you tried to push the grainy image of yourself out of your mind.Â
When the sink was finally off, you walked back over and pushed the coffee table back into its exact original position with a little more force than necessary, the legs scraping against the floor.
Before you can straighten up, Dexâs hand shoots out and catches your wrist. He tugs you down fast, swapping your places so youâre on the couch and heâs crouched between your knees, looking up at you.
âLook at me.â
You donât right away, so he cups your chin and turns your face to his, thumb stroking along your jaw like heâs memorizing you.
âIâd burn this whole world down before I let it touch you,â he murmurs, eyes locked on yours with that terrifying, all-consuming fire. âYou know that, right? Youâre mine to protect.â
âActions speak louder than words, Benjamin.â you remind him, âYouâre not off the hook about your stalking.â
Dexâs jaw tightens for a split second, that familiar flicker of anger flashing behind his eyes. He fights it hard and swallows it down, forcing his expression to stay soft even though his fingers press just a fraction harder against your jaw.
âCan we⌠not talk about her right now?â The words come out almost gentle, but thereâs that tight strain underneath, âIâll get there,â he promises, nudging the tip of your nose with his, breathing you in. âDonât worry.â
Heâs so close now. You can feel his breath mixing with yours. His gaze drops to your lips, lingers, then drags back up.
âI told you already⌠youâre the only thing thatâs ever made sense in my fucking head.â he whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke. âThe only person who sees exactly what I am, you know that, donât you? So stop pretending you need all that control. It's sweeter when you hand it over to me.â
He tilted his head just slightly, a crooked, knowing smile ghosting across his lips. He hovered there, lips barely a breath away, waiting for the sharp retort he knew was coming. When it didnâtâwhen you stayed silent and trembling under his hands, a satisfied smile widened.
He kisses you slowly at first, almost mocking how gentle he can be. But the second your lips part, it turns hungry. Dex groans low in his throat, fist twisting tight in your hair as he yanks your head back roughly with open-mouth led kisses and licks into your mouth like heâs trying to climb inside you.
He pushes you down onto the couch, settling heavy between your legs, grinding against you even though his staples have to be on fire. Pain was nothing compared to this.
You shove at his chest. âYour staplesââÂ
He doesnât even let you finish by chasing your mouth and bites your bottom lip, voice rough and amused against you.
âI donât give a fuck about the staples.â He rolls his hips again, letting you feel exactly how hard and heavy he is. âYou choking me out earlier? Slamming me into the wall? Thatâs what gets me going. So stop fighting it and let me fuck the anger out of you already.âÂ
Every nerve in his body lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree the moment you were under him again. The pain in his side was irrelevant. All that mattered was the way you tasted, the way you felt, and the way you made the static in his head go quiet.
âIâve been wanting to fuck you since I saw you in that arena,â he growled against your mouth, biting your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. âAll masked up and killing for me.â
His fist tightens in your hair and yanks your head back, exposing your throat. The sharp sting pulls a little gasp out of you, and Dexâs cock twitches hard against your thigh at the sound.
âFuck, I love that noise,â he growled against your throat, the sound vibrating through your bones. His hot tongue dragged up the exposed column of your neck in one long lick, tasting every inch of his property. A deep, hungry hum rolled out of his chest as he savored you.
He slammed his mouth back onto yours, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip until the delicate skin splits. Copper bloomed across your tongue, metallic and sweet. A low, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest as he licked it up slowly, then sucked on the fresh bite, easing the sting. Before you could catch your breath he was kissing you again, drunk on the taste.
For a second you lose yourself too; hips rolling up to meet his, fingers digging into his shoulders as heat swallows everything else.
Then the next second there was a soft knock knock knock at the door.Â
Dex ripped his mouth off yours with a vicious snarl, head snapping toward the door like he could set it on fire with his eyes. His chest was heaving, lips swollen and shiny with your blood, hair a total mess from your fingers.
âIâm gonna to skin whoever that is and wear their face as a mask.â he growled, low and murderous.
He hovers over you another second, breathing hard, seriously debating just ignoring the knock and burying himself inside you anyway. The pure sexual frustration on his face is almost funny.
Another polite knock comes. You let out a tiny, breathless laugh while Dex huffs this unhinged little chuckle that sounds halfway feral.
âDonât. Fucking. Move,â he mutters against your lips, giving your hair one last possessive yank.
He presses one more bruising kiss to your mouth, then pushes off the couch with a sharp wince. Topless, sweatpants doing nothing to hide how hard he still is, he stalks to the door like heâs heading to a kill.
Dex ripped the door open with way too much force, and a cute college girl in oversized hoodie and bunny slippers stood there, holding a half-empty bag of chips. Her eyes went wide as saucers when she took in the sight of a very tall, very shirtless, very aroused Dex glaring down at her.
âUh⌠hi? I-I heard a loud thud earlier and swearing and I just wanted to make sure everythingâsââ
Dex forced the fakest smile which looked more like he was baring his teeth.
He shuts the door in her face with a firm click before she can even blink.
When he turns back around, expecting to find you right where he left you, youâre already off the couch with your phone pressed to your ear.
âYeah⌠no, Iâm on my way. Fifteen minutes,â you say, all business as you head toward the bedroom to change. You glance back at him and mute the call. âWork emergency. Gotta go in.â
Dexâs face goes through about five stages of disbelief in two seconds flat.
âAre you fucking kidding me?â he rasps, âYouâre just gonna leave me like this?â
You were already peeling off your shirt, tossing it toward the hamper while balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder. âJust jerk off or something,â you called out casually. âIâll be back when I can.â
He stares at you, jaw tight, looking genuinely betrayed for a second. You grab a fresh top, throw on your jacket, and give his chest a quick, almost condescending pat as you pass.
âTry not to kill anyone while Iâm gone.â
Then youâre out the door.
Dex stands there in the middle of the living room for a long beat, jaw ticking, cock still throbbing painfully against his sweats.
âWork emergency,â he mutters to the empty apartment, voice dripping with acid. âSure.â
Bullshit.
This was punishment. It had to be.
His eyes flicked across the room and landed on the small, jagged hole in the drywall where your butter knife had buried itself a few nights prior. A tiny imperfection staring back at him like a scream in an otherwise quiet room.
His fingers twitched.
The itch started low in his spine and crawled up his neck. He knew exactly how many times heâd have to run his thumb along the edge to smooth it. How many precise little pushes it would take to make the hole disappear. He could fix it right now. Grab some spackle from under the sink, sand it down perfectly, paint over it so no one would ever know it was there.
Speaking of punishmentsâŚ
He dragged a hand down his face, then stalked back to the bedroom. He grabbed his phone and two burner apps and a voice modulator later, he was just another pissed-off New York nobody.
He hit the dial on the Department of Damage Control public tip line heâd memorized months ago and a tired-sounding woman picked up on the second ring. âDoDC tip line, how can I help you?â
âYeah, hi,â Dex said, thickening his accent just enough to sound like a Queens local whoâd had three beers too many. âLook, I live in the building over on 48th and 9thâyou know, the nice one with the new lobby? LookâŚI pay my taxes, I mind my own business, but what the hell is going on with all the tactical vans and agents showing up at all hours lately? Two of âem came banging on my neighborâs door the other night, middle of the damn night, woke up half the floor. Scared the hell outta my girlfriend. She thought it was a raid or some shit.â
He let the complaint roll out easy, sounding genuinely irritated.
The agent who sounded tired suddenly sounded more sharp. âSir, can you give me the apartment number or the residentâs name? We can look intoââ
âNah, nah, I-I donât wanna get involved like that,â Dex cut in, smirking at the ceiling. âIâm just a concerned citizenâyou guys sending armed babysitters to her place now or what? âCause if sheâs dangerous enough to need that kind of protection, maybe this building ainât safe.â
He could hear typing on the other end. Good. âIâll pass this up the chain, sir. Can I get your name andââ
âJohn. Just John,â Dex lied smoothly, voice still in that nasal civilian tone. âLook, Iâm not trying to cause drama. I just want to know if my buildingâs safe. Thatâs all. Thanks.â
He hung up before they could ask anything else, tossed the burner onto the bedside table, and let the slow, satisfied grin stretch across his face.
âRound two, baby,â he muttered to himself, âYouâre gonna be so fucking busy putting out fires⌠you wonât have time for anything except come running back to me.â
Dex looked down at the very obvious tent in his sweatpants, then towards the bedroom door, where the hole in the living room is out of sight.
He let out a long, suffering groan.Â
âFuck it, itâs just you and me, hand.â he muttered. Right now he needed to handle this before he lost his goddamn mind. He could deal with the hole on the wall after.
i need a weekend getaway where i can smoke all the weed i want and have her fucking me in the bed of her truck for hours until i canât move anymore.
where sheâll put the joint in my mouth and tell me just relax and listen to the sounds of the night. itâs all to distract me from her slowly pulling my shorts down. i wouldnât be wearing underwear since weâd gone swimming earlier and sheâs so happy ab it.
sheâll tell me i look pretty and how she just wants to keep me like that, needy and soaked.
sheâll eat me out til iâm crying that itâs too much and that i canât take it but she says âyou can take it, baby, take it for me.â and sheâll call me an angel and say that iâm doing so good for her.
sheâll let me cum all over her, soaking me in and telling me iâm perfect.
blakekathryn
prguitarman
jacobvanloon
annaxmalina
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
