Choices
Feel free to send any dark, angsty Dex x Reader prompts (only angst/dark please!)
Ships: Benjamin Pointdexter x Reader
Words: 2,252
Warnings: Strong language, mentions of self harm, strong depictions of violence, stalking, minor spoilers
Category: Angst
Synopsis: Dex really hasn’t had time to “look out” for you recently and when he sees that you have someone special to you... well... obviously he has to put a stop to that.
The night was cold, freezing, in the October moonlight. Dex sat in his car which was situated in the dark patch between luminescent streetlights- he hid from their all-encompassing glow. In the distance he could hear the wailing of police sirens, possibly working off the tips that the Devil of Hell’s kitchen was taking out a drug ring near the river. This was obviously staged by Fisk, trying to get the NYPD away from the meeting he was currently orchestrating with the city’s most infamous crime bosses.
Dex probably should have been there, looking over the situation and making sure the other associates of Fisk knew that he had the FEDS on his side. But no, Dex had taken a pass for more important matters at hand. He hadn’t recently had time to check on you, watch you, as Kingpin had been taking up large amounts of time in his everyday life; his new north star, guiding him.
Though, that didn’t negate Dex’s care for you as he still held you in high esteem. You were the only person he could even imagine himself being with in any sort of intimate way despite the fact that all he had ever done was watch you from afar. You didn’t know it but in fact Dex was a guardian angel of sorts- looking out for you, making sure that things went your way.
And making sure that no one got close to you. Not in the way that he should be close to you.
Dex drummed his fingers anxiously on the dashboard of his new car (bought by the money Fisk had been funnelling his people in the FBI) his eyes watched the door to your apartment building. It was a Tuesday, meaning you had tomorrow off work. You had specifically negotiated that in your contract and, as Dex knew, you got whatever you wanted.
You finally emerged from the apartment some fifteen minutes later just before Dex was going to go and pull the fire alarm. He allowed himself a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing back into the leather chair of his vehicle.
Dex drank you in as you stood out on the pavement, idly scrolling through your phone. You wore a tight, satin, scarlet dress which hugged your curves in all the right places. Seemingly to make up for the tightness of the fabric you had draped a denim jacket over your shoulders. You bristled as the freezing air caressed your skin. You looked around, evidently searching for something of which you were yet to find. Your eyes even darted over Dex’s car, totally and completely unaware of the man whom sat within and what you meant to him.
A few minutes later a black SUV pulled up just before you, coming to an abrupt halt with half of it climbing onto the sidewalk. Dex immediately sat up straight, subconsciously reaching for his loaded glock secured in his holster. If anyone had come after you he would bring fire and fury burning down upon this godforsaken city.
But somehow, this was worse.
You smiled and moved toward the car. A man got out, clad in a suit and tie and obviously dressed for a special occasion- much like you were. You gave him a swift embrace, your newly painted nails trailing softly through his hair. Dex clenched his fists, his knuckles turning bone white.
You smiled like how Dex wished for you to smile at him. The mystery man rubbed the nape of his neck, like a high schooler asking his crush to homecoming. Except, this was a date and they were both adults. You should be allowed to make any decision you wanted. You should be able to do whatever you want.
But no, that’s not how it goes.
Not now.
Not with you.
Dex thrust his key into the ignition, for a moment glorying in the low hum of the powerful engine before he set off, following the car that had his greatest strength and weakness within.
You.
***
It had been about two hours when finally the two of you emerged. Dex had remained outside, watching you and your date from the window you had booked. You had laughed a lot, a smile almost constantly caressing your lips. Dex had taken many measures to stop himself from rushing into the restaurant after you took the other man’s hand in your own.
By the time you went your separate ways (you moving into a bright canary yellow New York taxi and him in his fancy car) Dex had ravaged his lip so a coppery taste blossomed over his mouth and bloody half-moons were cut into the palm of his hands. His stomach growled for some kind of sustenance as he hadn’t eaten all evening, too set on watching you and the man you were associating with.
Before you had stepped into the cab the man took your hand, brushing soft, calming, circles on your palm before whispering what only Dex could presume were sweet nothings in your ear. You giggled before placing a kiss on his cheek. The man turned his face at the at the last second and finally caught your lips with his.
Dex felt the steering wheel buckle and bend under the rage he inflicted on it. His brain murmured a sweet mantra: it should be me, it should be me, it should be me, it should be-
But the moment was broken when the taxi honked its horn and, frankly, Benjamin Pointdexter could not be more thrilled.
The man got into his car with a final, fleeting look at you before driving off. Little did he know that that would be the last time he would ever set eyes on you and Agent Pointdexter absolutely revelled in that fact.
It was a fairly mundane journey back into the upper east side of Manhattan, the exquisite architecture and the promise of blood soon to be spilled kept Dex alert. The car which contained his target came to a halt before turning into a dark garage. Dex pulled into a nearby space before getting out of the car, his breath quickening with anticipation.
He moved across the street, swift and silent, and managed to squeeze through the closing garage doors. The seemingly desolate room full of desirable cars sat in silence for a few beats before Dex ducked behind a bright red Ferrari. His quarry was just making his way to the elevator.
Dex took a few deep breaths, running one large hand through his hair as he did so, before moving toward the sliding doors with a false smile. Beneath the surface he was a boiling pot of rage just moments away from bubbling over.
“Hey!” Dex called as he walked toward the elevator. “Can you hold it?” He continued, he was a good twenty meters away at that moment.
“Sure, buddy,” The man replied, pushing the button to keep the large metal doors from saving his life.
“Thanks,” Dex smiled as he made it inside. He rolled his shoulders and subconsciously patted his holster.
“No problem. What floor you going too?” The corpse walking asked, a self-satisfied curve to his lips. He was evidently still riding the high from being in your company.
“Oh, uh, eleven,” Dex replied.
“Alrighty.”
They stood there in awkward silence, predator and prey, for about a minute or so. Dex revelled in the energy, drinking in this man’s final hour. He enjoyed the sensation of playing God, of deciding who lives and who dies. He also took note of the man’s floor number, nine. Dex allowed a smug smile to hug his features as he saw the man take out his room key. A mistake he would live to regret. Or, more realistically, die to regret.
“Have a nice night,” Dex wished his victim as he exited the confined space.
“You too, man,” He replied, his fingers playing with the room key.
The doors closed and Dex stretched, cracking his neck at the same time. A determined expression marred his features. Somehow he wondered what his therapist would think. What she would say to him as he prepared to murder a man for simply spending time with you.
Dex pushed that thought to the side as he exited the elevator, waited a few beats, and pushed the call button once again. There was a ring as the machine pulled the suspended metal box up the floors and finally the doors opened. Dex re-entered, cracking his knuckles. He didn’t want this man’s demise to be quick, oh no, he was going to feel every, single, punch.
***
Dex arrived at the room within a few minutes. He stood outside the door; rearranging his clothing despite the fact the man would most likely avoid commenting on Dex’s fashion sense when there was a loaded gun in his mouth. He placed one hand on his pistol, a comfortable grip that felt like the closest thing he could call home.
Dex wrapped twice on the large door, his bloodied, bruised knuckles highlighted against the birch. He swiftly ducked so that he was no longer in view of the peep-hole. The hairs on the back of his neck began to raise, a sort of electricity racing through them as the excitement of the kill raged through his bloodstream. He allowed himself two deep breaths to steady himself as he heard footsteps begin to advance toward the door.
Dex was sure that if he listened closely he would be able to hear the man’s heartbeat begin to ramp up as the lock clicked and the door opened.
“Hello- you?” He rubbed his eyes, already clad in grey boxers and not much else. “What’re you doing her-” His voice came to a swift halt as Dex raised the butt end of his glock and hit him on the back of his head. The man scrambled away from the door, fear and blood riveting down his face.
Dex advanced after him, closing the door with a soft click.
“Please- please…” The man uttered as he finally reached a wall. He leaned back so that he was as far away as possible to the FBI agent now mere feet away. “I- I have a fami-”
“What’s your name?” Dex cut him off by shoving the pistol’s muzzle to his chest.
“Calvin.”
“Well, Calvin, we’re gonna have a little chat, hm?” Dex trailed the muzzle of the gun almost sensually around Calvin’s jawline. “How’s that sound?” No reply. “Now, now, Cal- can I call you Cal? Well, I’m gonna be the last person you ever talk to so there’s no point in holding your tongue with me, y’hear?”
A brisk nod.
“Good. Now… how do you know (Y/N)?” Despite the situation, Dex still enjoyed the sensation of your name on his lips.
“(Y/N)? Is this what this is all fucking about?” Calvin asked, sweat dripping in beads down his bloodied face.
Dex shoved the pistol just under his chin, clicking the safety off with an audible tick. Calvin inhaled sharply.
“Don’t you ever, ever, say her name again. Got that?” Dex’s voice was low with the promise of making his death as slow and as painful as humanly possible.
“Ye- yes.”
“Good. Now answer the fucking question: how do you know her?” Dex watched for any signs of possible lies but none appeared. He was simply a man staring down the barrel of his impending death.
“We- we met through work. I thought she was… she was cute. She smiled a lot and she- she was funny. I asked her out a few months back and… we’ve been going on dates ever since.” Calvin avoided Dex’s cool gaze.
“Just dates or anything else?”
“What the fuck man- this is so messed up,” Calvin exclaimed when he got the gist of what Dex was insinuating.
“Remember what I just said, Calvin.” Dex practically shoved the pistol in his mouth.
“Fine- fine… yes… we- we had sex.”
“More than once?”
“Jesus Christ man I- yes. Yes more than once.” Calvin was looking around for any possible escape route of which there was none. “What is this all for?”
“(Y/N) is… important to me. I enjoy her… What’s she like to be with?” Dex allowed a shadow of a smile to appear on his scar ridden face before swiftly returning to the matter at hand.
“Please- I can pay you… I won’t go to the police or- or anyone! Just let me-”
“Jesus Christ! You’re really beginning to annoy me now, Calvin.” Dex shook his head, clenching his free fist with an anguished distain.
“Fine, fine… she’s smart- smarter than me. She makes the world seem better just being around her. More… hopeful.” Despite the situation, Calvin’s eyes seemed far away.
Reliving memories that Dex should be the only one to have. Finally the rage which had always been simmering just below the surface for his entire life finally boiled over; and Dex could not have enjoyed it more.
Dex revelled in finally pulling the trigger. The satisfying shot rang out throughout the room and the corpse of Calvin fell to the ground with a dull thud. His face still held the wonder of past memories. Dex decided that he was never going to forget this image for the rest of his days, the blood painting the walls like an art exhibit and crumpled corpse of a man who had dared get close to you.
Yes… Dex would enjoy this for a long time.