Welcome to voidreynolds; my coping mechanism and escape from reality!
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I don’t write: childbirth, baby/newborn related fics (i have a thing; therapy didn’t work) explicit smut, or anything extremely graphic and extremely triggering. I also don’t do character x character (ship wars scare me). Happy to write angst, alllllll the fluff, pining, mental health struggles and anything steamy.
i only write x f!reader!
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[ joe keery, lewis pullman, finn wolfhard, kaz brekker & bob floyd ]
situationship with ace except maybe it means more than just letting off steam and distracting each other from the high stress and tension of the war and maybe you’re both completely in love with each other but are terrified that if you voice that you’ll make it real and then it will be something worth losing-
summary: it was cute, at first, the way the young straw hat wearing captain clung to your every word and watched you like you had strung together the very sea that he loved so much. it became extremely annoying, however, when you realized you had fallen for him, too— even harder.
or: luffy discovers something he loves more than food.
warnings: reader is a chronic flirt, rivaling even sanji. slight tension, banter, luffy is intoxicated by reader, reader is manipulative– not in a toxic, icky way but in a way that drives luffy (and poor sanji) insane. *clears throat* walk him like a dog, sis, walk him like a dog…..
the sun was already up, as you made your way across the deck of the merry. zoro was still in his sentry soldier stance, guarding the ship from whatever he had envisioned the biggest threat to be. nami was scolding usopp about using her pen to scribble down ideas, and sanji, judging by the sweet scent wafting through the air, was cooking lunch.
“looking good, zoro. if you hadn’t acknowledged my presence, i really would have thought we got a new statue to decorate the ship.”
zoro eyed you, the slightest hint of amusement on his face, “i see you’ve finally woken up. nice of you to join us today, you almost missed the part of the day when the sun isn’t the highest point.”
“perfect timing to sunbathe…”
“i beg you not to.”
“can’t stand the sight?”
“i can’t stand the way the other two act around you…”
at this you smiled to yourself and crossed your arms, “they’re cute. it’s rather amusing…”
“to you.”
“you could ease off our poor captain… sanji at least can take it.”
“no he can’t!” you snorted, “the first time i flirted back at him, he collapsed.”
this made zoro smile, looking more amused than you had ever seen him, “i know. but it never gets old…”
you grinned at him, shaking your head slightly. you had formed some kind of odd friendship with zoro. you had bonded over the stupidity of most people and barely attainable aspirations. you nudged him once as you brushed past him and he acknowledged you with a non irritated glance.
“he was looking for you, by the way.”
“sanji?”
“probably. but no…”
you smiled to yourself, despite the attempt you had really made not to get attached, “where is he?”
“his usual spot…”
you started up the curved horns of the ram’s head, but you didn’t make it far before there was an enthusiastic inhale and a head appeared over the edge. “there you are!”
“captain…” you smiled up at him and tried to remember when they stopped being forced and only an act.
each time you addressed him as captain, luffy swore he malfunctioned just a little bit. he pulled you the rest of the way up, dragging you directly into his lap like he forgot there were others around.
you hummed contently, “good morning…” what you had meant as a quick greeting kiss, luffy always escalated. he pulled you closer, kissing you with the fervor of a man that had not, in fact, seen you eight hours previously. you tilted your head slowly as luffy traced down your neck. you put a hand on his chest, steadying him with a breathy laugh.
“luffy—“
“hmm?” he pulled away from you slowly, eyes glossy and pupils blown.
“let me at least eat first…”
“oh, great idea! i could go for seconds!”
you eyed him in amusement, huffing slightly as he dragged you down the figurehead and towards the gulley. “good morning, beautiful. i was wondering when you’d show up… luffy was wandering around like a lost puppy waiting for you.”
luffy gave you an innocent smile, blushing slightly.
it hadn’t always been like this. you had no intention of falling for the captain at all, or forming any kind of romantic relationship. you had heard of a crew going to the grand line and taken your opportunity. sanji, tending the bar at the time, had told you everything with only one coy smile to him. you had taken one look at the crew and rethought your odds greatly– but you had been proven wrong again and again and the straw hat crew had turned your entire world on its side.
even the captain seemed to be fond of you from the beginning. luffy was always checking on you, always asking for you specifically to accompany him when off the ship. it had originally made it easier to make more requests, it had been easier to get anything you needed— though anyone on the ship wouldn’t have hesitated to make sure you were comfortable and taken care of— and it was even easier to actually fall for him.
the small smiles that got you anything, the slight brush of his arm that had him stopping whatever he was doing and giving you his full attention… it had shifted to something beyond just an end goal— you had wanted to be around him. you wanted to greet him before anyone else… you wanted those few touches to linger and shift into something else.
you still felt guilty— dragging him along on whatever self serving agenda you had. but then it had become real and you were more scared than you had ever been. because that wasn’t supposed to happen. you were never supposed to stay with this crew… you were never supposed to fall for the captain in a straw hat, but now that’s all you wanted.
you had told luffy once, on the quiet of the ram’s head, that you were sorry. you hadn’t meant to use him and that you promised now it was real.
luffy just looked over at you with those constant soft eyes, the smallest smile on his face, “i know that. at the time i just thought i was so lucky to spend time with you. i knew you would never actually go for someone like me… but then the more time i spent with you, the more i realized you were perfect for me. and you were always meant to be here with me.”
shit.
you had cried then.
and every wall you had put up and every brick you had placed to be independent and on your own shattered. because you wanted him. you wanted to be with the captain of the straw hats. you wanted to be by his side when he found the one piece, more than you ever wanted anything.
it was impossible to hide from him, you learned quickly. he was always there— circling you, looking out for you, telling you what was wrong when you hadn’t even been able to identify it yourself. horrifyingly, you fell for him fast. he defended you in arguments even against zoro, he had protected you on more than three occasions, as if it was just the only thing that had ever crossed his mind to do.
you fell hard. and he loved you with every bit of himself, just like he did everything else. sometimes he was dizzying, sometimes he took your breath away just by the sheer force of him—
“are you alright?”
a hand settled on your shoulder as you leaned against the barrier, elbow brushing against the orange tree. you glanced over at the soft brown eyes under the familiar black curls.
“i’m good, luffy… very good.”
“you were thinking about something…”
it wasn’t a question.
“you.”
this made luffy grin like a kid on their birthday, overlooking their stash of presents. “i like hearing that…”
you smiled to yourself and let your head fall on his shoulder. his hand was there immediately; pulling you closer, grabbing you, always acting as if he hasn’t seen you in years. you placed a delicate kiss under his jaw and he pulled you fully into his lap with a grin.
“oi, lovebirds! remember we can see you.”
“ah, i think it’s charming… look at how pathetically whipped our captain is. if his eyes could be heart shaped i think they would be.”
“sanji, not everyone is as hopelessly romantic as you.”
“and yet she landed with luffy and not me…”
you smirked to yourself, glancing over your shoulder at sanji, “are you jealous, gorgeous?”
sanji muttered a curse under his breath as you batted your eyelashes with a grin. he still couldn’t handle female attention— and you still thought it was great fun to mess with him.
“sanji!” luffy huffed, crossing his arms and pouting, “stop flirting with my girlfriend!”
sanji gaped, stammering over protests, “i— i wasn’t! i wasn’t, luffy! she—“
luffy snorted, cackling like it was the funniest joke in the world. sanji cursed again, looking at you like you were responsible for his constant torment and verbal assaults.
you smiled innocently, eyes sparkling mischievously. zoro was nearly as amused as you; always thoroughly enjoying jokes at the cook’s expense.
“i don’t see why you’re laughing, mosshead! she tried flirting with you, too! you just are broken or something!”
zoro snorted, smirking in even more amusement, “i happen to remember that i was the first one she tried fighting…”
“usopp was the easiest. i think he was too easy… he was tripping over his own jaw when she winked at him.”
nami rolled her eyes, glancing between you and luffy, “for all the torture she put you boys through, i don’t think she planned on falling for that one.”
sanji grinned, “she certainly didn’t. i would have been the obvious choice…”
“oh, yes. the blond haired blue eyed cook.”
“well it wouldn’t be the mosshead!”
zoro snorted and luffy had reappeared to shove sanji in the face with an irritated expression. his overprotective jealousy was rather adorable to you. his possessiveness when any male gaze was on you was more amusing to the crew than his love for food— until it was directed onto them.
“luffy, be nice to sanji. he really tried…” you winked at sanji playfully and sanji huffed. you turned your attention back to luffy, fingers sliding up the space of his stomach between his unbuttoned shirt, “he just couldn’t compete with brown eyes and black curls…”
luffy melted into you, tensing and breathing in slowly, eyes dilating as if hit with an adrenaline shot. he leaned in towards you, eyelids heavy and mouth parted just slightly; now looking remarkably like he was drugged or in a trance.
you grinned up at him, looking innocent despite your hands on either side of his shirt. luffy’s eyes softened, though there was still that slightly wild look about him. you placed a quick kiss on his jaw and his smile grew. he put his hand on his hat, like he always did when you kissed him— like he was preparing to be knocked off his feet.
“the hair, huh?” luffy’s eyes sparkled, smiling softly with the faintest teasing expression. you smirked faintly, tilting your head, “among other things.” you straightened his shirt that you had messed up, smiling up at him.
“you’re still happy here?”
you paused, as if offended by the question.
“with me? you don’t regret it? you’re still…”
“luffy.” you turned to face him fully, “i plan on following you to the end… until you find the one piece and become king of the pirates…”
“or until you’re sick of me…” he said it like he believed it.
you shook your head, “no. i think we’ll both be old and grey and retired on a beach somewhere before that happens…”
luffy beamed, seeming to stand straighter and get closer. he kissed you again and there was collective groans from the crew. they had thought— perhaps hoped— that the pda and luffy being all hands and puppy eyed and pathetic for you would be a phase you would grow out of.
How would Zoro, luffy and Law (if you write for him) react if they find out their s/o loves to fangirl about them to the crew behind their back. i.e. all the strawhats except zoro know reader is always squealing about how good zoro looks whilst he’s training. How would he react when he finds out the reader is his superfan (sorry if this doesnt make sense it’s nearly 2am n i’m struggling to type 😭😭)
a/n: eeeee yes boost those men’s egos!! i haven’t gotten to law yet (🙉) so i’m adding ace instead & ofc sanji my mans
warnings: flirting, established relationships, banter, reader LOVES her bf, a few suggestive comments, mild language, reader is like a feral cat, sanji FOLDS so fast
Giggling and Kicking Your Feet
⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⚔︎
Zoro was at it again. torturing you slowly, meticulously and agonizingly. or, maybe just working out. he was in the middle of the deck, hot sun blaring down at him as if challenging him to push himself even further. he never did it intentionally— he just trained like he always had and would continue to do daily. you couldn’t even be mad about being up so early to watch him when his abs were displayed in full glory as he lifted his swords above his head and—
“ohhuh,” you felt your knees weaken slightly as you stumbled to grab onto the banister. your head was spinning, vision dancing slightly.
zoro was a hazard to you.
you stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tumbling into sanji, who looked up from the sink in alarm. upon seeing that it was you, he smirked, eyeing you knowingly. “mosshead training again?”
you groaned in answer, your head falling against the counter slightly too hard.
“oh, love…” sanji sounded pitying, though he was still smirking in amusement. he slid you a glass of water and clicked his tongue, “suppose you could stop watching him every day? avert your eyes to literally any other direction…”
you scoffed, eyeing him like he was insane.
“oh, of course… of course you couldn’t. how silly of me…”
“cook,” you flinched as if you had been shot as zoro stepped into the gulley. he took you in, eyes softening, dangling shirt shifting from his hand to over his shoulder.
“morning,” he nodded to you, the faintest smile evident on his face.
“morn—“ the rest choked out and was cut off as your eyes drifted south, to where his abs gleamed with sweat and the v of his—
sanji whistled and you flinched. you flushed scarlet, eyes dropping to literally anywhere else.
“can i get some water?”
you stumbled over your own feet and beat sanji to the faucet to fill him a glass. sanji just eyed you incredulously, still thoroughly amused.
“are you okay?”
you watched him down the water, swearing time seemed to slow as his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“i think she just needs a cold shower. she may have overheated a bit…”
you shot sanji a glare but zoro was already moving, hand outstretched towards your forehead, eyebrows knit with concern.
“i’m– no, i’m okay—“
zoro eyed you with a worried intensity, sliding the glass back towards sanji as he looked you over, “you seem alright… is there anything i can get you? do i need to get the cook to make you something?”
sanji hummed, slicing potatoes into thin cubes, “not sure i have what she’s wanting… it’s not exactly on the menu—“
you stomped backwards, heel landing on sanji’s foot with clear intention. sanji cursed and muttered under his breath, looking up at you with wide, slightly tearfilled eyes.
zoro just looked at you, looked to sanji, then blinked. sometimes you wished he was slightly less oblivious. especially when it came to you and the painfully obvious effect he had on you.
nami was sighing in time with you, batting her eyelashes sarcastically as you ogled over zoro once again. she was watching you, torn between annoyance and amusement. anyone who saw you half bent over the guard rail and doe eyed would call you pathetic— and they would be right.
“you’re going to cut yourself in half if you don’t stand up straight.”
“just look at him— i mean, that physique shouldn’t even be possible.”
“he works out for at least an hour every day… of course he’s going to be fit.”
“fit.” she said it so casually and you snorted, “you say that as if he’s not… like, utter perfection. sculpted by—“
“zoro!”
zoro glanced up, eyebrow lifted.
“put on a shirt before your girlfriend chokes on her own drool.”
your face flushed and you looked at nami furiously. you glanced back at zoro and nearly shrieked when you found him inches away, now eyeing you with a smirk.
shit. holy shit, he was even nicer up close—
as if you hadn’t seen him a million times and woken up with him smothering you as he snored and nearly suffocated you with an arm across your cheek.
“you look a little red…”
you tried to glance anywhere but him but he took two fingers and pulled your head to face him. “it’s hot.”
“is it?” his voice held that dangerous tone, voice rasping just slightly. your legs turned to jelly and his smirk deepened.
“if you see something you like, you can just ask… i would be happy to make special arrangements so you can touch the merchandise—“
you cursed as your stomach flipped and heart raced, eyes meeting his likely like a deer in headlights. zoro only grinned wider, smug with that expression that promised something you couldn’t entirely handle. zoro tilted his head, smirking, “have you always been this interested in my workouts? and have they always gotten you so….”
he gestured vaguely, eyes hungry as his smirk remained, “hot and desperate.” you crossed your arms, eyebrows lifted in exaggerated offense.
“i’m not judging you, sweetheart. it’s quite flattering. who knew i didn’t have to touch you to get this worked up.” he leaned down and shifted his fingers to your jawline, tilting his head slightly with a smirk. “would you like me to do something about your predicament? sanji mentioned a cold shower… or we could try other methods…”
you stumbled and nearly collapsed into him at his words, exhaling shakily as he caught you with a smirk, “come on, sweetheart. i’ll help you to our room…” he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
ঌ ঌ ঌ ঌ
Ace never wore a shirt— in your defense, it wasn’t hard to stare at him. he was taller than almost everyone else, broader than almost everyone else and again– had a cruel and torturous aversion to shirts. really, it was harder to not stare at him. it wasn’t just you, either! anytime you were out with him, there was at least four women eyeing him like he was a prize stallion up for auction. you really couldn’t help yourself… he was, in every way that counted, exquisite. sculpted by the gods, freckles hand painted to look like the stars you loved so much.
the problem was your beloved boyfriend didn’t seem to realize just how much effect he had on you. and he had truly no shame when it came to sprawling out on the deck; tanning or napping, doing push ups, doing sit ups— or gods forbid— pull ups. the pull ups… the way his veins popped and sweat glistened off him reminding you of some dessert you very much would lick frosting off of—
“ahem.” you wheeled around so quickly you lost your balance and nearly sprawled out on the deck like a corpse. there was snickers as you huffed and brushed yourself off.
“sorry.” you tried to regain your bearings but the glazed, out of it expression wouldn’t leave your face– nor would the blush that was the result of your stomach twisting and heart racing, “what?”
“gods, he has got to give you a break.”
“i wasn’t— we weren’t—“
gods, your mind was in the gutter. you rubbed your face and cursed the effect he had on you– and how it was obvious and insulting to everyone else on the crew. marco was smirking with his arms crossed over his chest. izou only glanced between you and ace with an exasperated smile that he didn’t fully mean.
“hey, hot head!”
ace lifted his hat off his face and squinted into the sun. he grunted slightly as he stood up, muttering under his breath about uninterrupted nap time. he stretched, horrifyingly, arms above his head, muscles drawn tense as he flexed and stretched out before yawning again.
“one hundred berry says she faints.”
izou snorted and eyed marco with an amused smile, “again…”
you rolled your eyes and huffed, sending both of them an irritated glare, “perhaps you’re just jealous. because we’re happy and i’m obsessed with my—“
izou clicked his tongue and snorted, “no, no, sweetheart. you can have hot head. he is all yours. i got my booze and the sea. i have no desire for all….” she gestured rather grotesquely and you fought back a smirk, “that. or anyone…”
“we hear enough about it already to ever have a desire for what…you two have.”
“i have never once gone into detail!”
“no need, sweetheart! you always look at him like he’s the first meal your starving ass has ever seen.”
your cheeks flushed slightly but your smirk only grew.
“not to mention it’s not a very large ship.”
“oi, and the walls are thin…”
other crew members had gathered around you and joined in on the snickering and apparent betting on how soon it would be before you fainted or walked off the side of the ship just to cool off. you gritted your teeth and breathed out slowly, thrilled that your attraction and fondness of your boyfriend was such an amusing group spectacle.
“what’s going on here?”
ace had crossed the ship and stopped in the middle of the heckling crew, lifting an eyebrow with a skeptical expression.
“making bets, hot head.”
“oh yeah? two hundred berry on whichever side is against marco.”
you fought back a smile but it didn’t last long before someone else opened their mouth, “actually, we’re betting to see weather your girlfriend will pass out or drown herself before she implodes.”
ace paused running his hand through his hair, eyebrows raised, amusement turning to concern, “what?” he turned his attention to you, suddenly wide awake, “why would she do that?”
you moved to take several steps away from him, but marco smacked you on the back with a phlemy laugh, “i think she’s got the hots for you.”
ace furrowed his brows, waiting for him to elaborate, as if that wasn’t already obvious since you had agreed to that first date you had nearly begged him for.
“i think she’s just hot…”
“and bothered.”
you cursed under your breath and glanced over your shoulder, considering if a jump off the plank really was worth avoiding this. ace eyed you, confusion and cluelessness written on his face. you opened your mouth to laugh it off and tell him to ignore them, but apparently the crew’s grievances about you constantly tripping over yourself and drooling over your well established boyfriend had them finally fed up.
“oh she doesn’t shut up about you. she was chopping vegetables this morning, going off about the color of your eyes.”
“she tripped and knocked over barrels of whiskey because you were cooling yourself off yesterday.”
“next time you’re exercising those muscles you’ll have to warn us so we can at least blindfold her first.”
oh, yes— drowning would have been better than this.
you were envisioning how to slowly kill each and every member of your crew, when ace finally turned to you. your brain short circuited and you once again fought the urge to just shrivel up and die.
ace was smirking. not just his usual playful or flirty smirk— no, this smirk was lethal. it was smug and egotistical, as if he had gotten away with stealing the entire universe.
“is that so?” ace crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head slightly in a way that made your knees nearly buckle. godsdamn him for being so lethally attractive. even without his smirk. or those dark eyes that locked you in place.
you knew you were blushing. you knew your face was so red that you wouldn’t be able to look at anyone for a week. even still, you couldn’t let him win. you couldn’t let him keep that satisfied, smug smirk on his face.
stupidly, you crossed your arms and tilted your chin up, challenging him, “and what about it?”
ace narrowed his eyes slightly, smirk deepening as if the thought of you challenging him made this even better. your hands were shaking, your knees threatened to drop you. his tongue flicked across his bottom lip and you broke. your knees dropped, stumbling forward into him with a shudder. ace was ecstatic. his smirk turned to a grin and you breathed out shakily.
“sweetheart.”
you braced for the comment or nickname or suggestive words that would inevitably be your killing blow.
“yes, ace?” you sighed, bracing for impact, bracing for collapsing into the floor once again.
“if you ever stop being this in love with me, please let me know… i shall walk myself right off the side of the ship.”
you scrunched your nose up and tugged him down to finally kiss you— as if that was payment for torturing you and enjoying it.
౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ
Sanji was attractive; this was plain to see to everyone yet it still baffled you that he had never once had luck with women. zoro and nami constantly gave him shit for it, pointing out how much effort he put in just to be shot down repeatedly. when you had first met him and he flashed that charming smile and met you with those blue eyes that locked you in place, you were done for. truly. you had never once believed in love at first sight until you met sanji.
even more shocking- when sanji flirted with you it worked. too damn well… sanji was so caught off guard that he stumbled through the menu and mispronounced half of the wines, visibly sweating and trying to stay standing. you couldn’t keep your eyes off him and zoro wondered if he had put some kind of spell on you.
sanji had almost thought you were joking when he first asked you to dinner— a private dinner he had cooked, somehow away from luffy— and you had said yes. he was rather pathetic when it came to you- going out of his way to do anything and everything without being asked. you practically melted the first time he took your hand and kissed your knuckles, your arm, your shoulder, finally your neck— he was everything romantic and chivalrous and didn’t at all belong on a pirate ship or on a wanted poster.
months in, and you were still just as pathetically and grossly obsessed with him. zoro was on the deck shirtless, sweating and being slightly in the way, while luffy and usopp dared him to add more and more weight to lift. “are you enjoying the view?” you snorted in amusement and shook your head, eying nami with a playfully incredulous expression. nami laughed and nudged you, “i forgot, you only admire sanji. when he’s cooking, when he’s smoking, when he breathes…. when he’s sleeping.” you smirked to yourself, not about to deny a fact. you just smiled smugly and stepped into the gulley where your preferred and favorite view lied. sanji was at the counter, slicing vegetables like it was an art. you bit your lip as he rolled his sleeves up and wiped condensation from the steaming pot off his forehead. if sanji glanced at you now, he would fold like a piece of paper. the eyes you were giving him, the flush of your cheeks, your lip tucked between your teeth… he would abandon lunch completely and once again everyone would have you to blame for a late meal, burnt food and a heated make out in the kitchen that someone accidentally walked in on.
sanji looked up as soon as you were close enough to him for him to sense your presence. his eyes lit up and he leaned over the counter to kiss you, “hello mon amour… is there something i can do for you?” you tugged at his shirt collars when he moved to pull away, deepening the kiss as if he had been so cruel and unjust as to withhold kisses from you since this morning.
“oh gods, not again–“ nami stopped in the doorway, looking torn between irritation and a small fondness for how happy you truly were.
“something you need, nami?” sanji barely took his eyes off you, still leaning to kiss you.
nami crossed her arms, lifting her eyebrows in question, “can i make a request?”
sanji shrugged, glancing over at her with minimal interest, waiting for her to continue.
“stop making out in the kitchen.”
sanji’s mouth twitched, eyes returning to you with that intense hunger that always made you fold, “if you can’t stand the heat, nami, get out of my kitchen…”
sanji placed one more delicate kiss on your forehead and you inhaled shakily as he returned to the stove. he always dropped whatever he was doing to greet you and make sure you knew you were the priority. sanji pushed the diced vegetables around in the pan, lifting a cigarette with his other. your mouth hung open slightly as he lit it and inhaled deeply. he readjusted his sleeves above his elbow and exhaled. you watched the smoke curl up from his lips like a trance, unaware of how utterly pathetic you looked. nami snorted and you barely noticed. sanji ran a hand through his hair and your knees buckled; you nearly collapsed onto the floor, had your hands not been gripping the table, white knuckled.
“good grief,” nami eyed you like she was in awe of your brain function getting lesser and lesser when it came to sanji. sanji glanced up, over his shoulder, eyeing you with lifted brows, “are you alright, my darling?” the softness in his tone nearly had you folding again and nami huffed, “that’s going to make it worse, sanji. care less… ignore her. do something—“
you glared at nami briefly, but sanji just lowered his head to place another kiss to your forehead, “i would never ignore you, mon cherie…” your grip on the table tightened and nami choked out a laugh, thoroughly amused that him being so reassuring and loving just made you all the more worked up.
sanji held your hand as you glanced into every shop window you passed. you had lost the rest of the crew somewhere between docking and the town square though neither of you would complain or worry about rare alone time.
“if you see something you like, mon amour, please don’t hesitate…”
you glanced up at him shyly, smile slowly starting to spread. sanji eyed you with a soft amusement, “mon cherie, i’m offended you didn’t speak up. what is it? anything you want and it’s yours…”
you tugged on his hand for him to follow you back the way you had just come, though sanji didn’t need to be pulled— he was already following you before you had taken a step away from him.
you returned to the agreed upon meeting place five minutes late, flushed and slightly out of breath, with sanji both carrying your bags and asking if you were okay— the former was why he had needed to ask the latter. nami was staring— she nudged zoro who was smirking in utter amusement, “get lost?”
“not at all. my angel saw something she liked…”
nami glanced at zoro and his smirk widened even more, “whipped.”
nami sighed, shaking her head in amusement, “if only he knew the truth. neither one of them would ever be able to stand straight or be in the same room…”
sanji lifted an eyebrow, “what are you two smirking about?” you held your hand out to take the bags from sanji, to which he switched the bags to his other hand, put his free hand in yours and then brought your hand up to his lips.
oh, that had done it.
zoro and nami watched your brain short circuit and your breath catch as you breathed out shakily. you were now staring at the ground, trying very hard to stay standing.
“are you alright my—“
“for goodness sake, sanji! don’t say another thing to her if you want her to remain conscious.”
sanji froze, glanced at nami, wide eyed and confused, then glanced at you in concern, “what’s going on? did i do something?”
“oh, you were pretty much just born…” zoro sighed and shifted on his feet, hand resting on his swords like he was tired, “and then she met you in a restaurant. and we’ve not stopped hearing about you since…”
your eyes shot to zoro with a look that you hoped promised a slow, painful death.
nami was almost laughing now, clearing her throat to find a voice that was playfully meant to be you, “oh, sanji is cooking again… i’d better make sure i’m in there to drool over him.”
zoro smirked, amused and joining in, “oh, he rolled his sleeves up, someone better catch me when i inevitably pass out—“
“he’s smoking again, someone better dump cold water on my head—“
“alright! thank you…. for that.” you had seemed to shrink several inches, posture tense and awkward. sanji was eyeing you with a questioning expression, a small, timid smile on his lips.
“are they…. do you…do that?”
“do i— well— i just— i think— i—“
sanji looked very near to melting. his grip had tightened on your bags and his hand shifted from your hand to your chin, gentle. “i never noticed?”
“i was hoping not… half the time u don’t realize im doing it… you’re just so—“ you gestured to all of him and zoro scoffed.
you braced for a comment, a flirtatious remark, a smirk that would bring you to your knees— maybe even for sanji to throw you over his shoulder and sprint you both back to the merry.
instead, sanji knelt down— knelt down– in front of you and took your hand in both of his. there was a choke behind you but you couldn’t even focus on your surroundings. the world slowed, your head spun—
“i’m undeserving of you, my darling… you love me so well. so much… after all this time. to think you look at me the way i look at you. to think i am loved even a fraction of the way i feel for you— thank you. thank you, my angel… please let me spend the rest of my life with you. please let me keep loving you and being with you…”
zoro coughed, nami stood with her mouth open and luffy and usopp were just showing up, both applauding cluelessly. you just nodded, nearly as stunned as nami, though much much closer to passing out.
“i should get a ring— i should—“
you dropped to your own knees, despite sanji quickly standing and trying to pull you to your feet and make sure you never lowered yourself for him– you met him half way with a kiss that had both of you wrecked— but it was a very good thing you were both already on your knees…
᳂ ᳂ ᳂ ᳂
Luffy had grabbed you so suddenly that you hadn’t even yet been aware of what was happening. sanji and zoro were already approaching as luffy swung his first strike. you never really got used to the rubber thing… every time he fought or went out of his way to pull you against him, it was like seeing it for the first time— ironic, since luffy was all hands and all consuming all the time. he had saved you enough times now that you had learned to stay out of his way and not to question him if he was randomly pushing, pulling or dragging you rapidly away.
zoro and sanji stopped beside you with a sigh, “what now?” you just shrugged, eyes watching luffy in the fight that you hadn’t heard the beginning of or reason for.
regardless, luffy always looked good fighting. he managed to keep his hat on, which was a remarkable achievement of its own, when he was all limbs and flailing half the time. you winced as a single blow landed on luffy, though he either didn’t feel it or didn’t care—
“not the face…” you sighed, crossing your arms. zoro snorted, while sanji shook his head, “our captain is more than capable, as you know by now…”
“doesn’t mean i want his pretty face bruised.”
you pouted slightly, though your eyes were playful. luffy flew through the air suddenly and you cursed.
“do you think we should help him—“
zoro had his hands on his swords, though no sooner than he moved did the opposing foe drop to the ground. luffy returned to you with a small smile, only slightly out of breath.
“what was that about?”
“he looked at her.”
you almost snorted, eyeing him with an amused disbelief.
“your girlfriend was worried about your face, by the way…” zoro returned his sword to his side and smirked only slightly.
luffy turned to you, brows furrowed, “really?” you expected him to say something cute, but he wiped at his face in determination, “was there food on it?”
this time you did laugh, “no, luffy… believe it or not, i don’t want you buried and broken.”
he grinned at this, realizing you were being cute. he moved closer to you, arm around your shoulders, “not to worry, then… it all bounces off me.” he placed a messy kiss against the side of your cheek and you grinned.
his kisses were always messy and wet, sometimes acting more like he was tasting you than kissing you. “i think it’s cute that you worry about me.”
you scrunched your nose up slightly as he pulled you even closer until you almost couldn’t breathe, “and i just think you’re cute.”
luffy let out one of his laughs, loud and obnoxious, warming your chest like a hug. he flushed only slightly, hand on his hat like he was worried he would lose it. he kept his hand in yours as he moved to return his attention to food.
“i think luffy could beat anyone…” you shrugged innocently, pushing your half finished plate towards luffy, who would have no problem finishing it off.
“anyone?” nami eyed you incredulously.
“yes, anyone… name a single fight he hasn’t walked away from.”
“well arlong—“
“using sea water doesn’t count, nami.”
“i mean it is—“
“no, nami. using someone’s weakness isn’t winning…”
nami opened her mouth to argue, but sanji just shook his head slightly, as if warning that this was a useless argument. you truly believed luffy would beat anyone— would win any fight. sanji reminded nami of this and she just huffed.
luffy looked at you with wide eyes, glancing over his plate. he didn’t need you to defend him- he didn’t need you to believe in him, yet you always had. since they day you met him and joined his crew.
“it’s nice that she thinks so highly of me… if i ever stop believing in myself, i know there’s someone who will.”
you smiled softly at him from across the table and luffy just went back to eating, as if that hadn’t been one of the most romantic things he had ever said.
“you know she talks about you all the time… even when you’re stuffing your face, somehow… she thinks you’ve hung the stars.”
you flushed slightly, but zoro wasn’t lying. luffy’s eyes found you again, softer, the slightest amusement hid behind that loving expression.
“i know… i hear her. it’s nice… it makes me feel important.”
“you are—“
luffy lowered his now empty plate and took your hand, “i’m really glad you’re here. thank you.”
you fought away a stupid smile, sinking further into your chair as your heart swelled. “always, luffy… i would follow you anywhere.”
luffy stood up in his chair– much to everyone’s horror and dismay– and leaned down to kiss you. messy and fully, both hands on your face, like he was trying to absorb you.
warnings: language, death, mental health struggles and coping, manipulation, violence, blood, miscarriage, mentions of trauma, feral bullseye, tension, injury, betrayal, heavy themes of suicide and self harm, incarceration and psych ward, dex still likes to bite, dual pov, slightly graphic at the end… again, i’m really very sorry
the handcuffs were cold on your wrists. nearly thirty years having avoided handcuffs and you were finally placed in them by your brother. something rumbled deep inside your chest. it was coiled tightly, vibrating with an energy that was uncontrollable.
“open your eyes.”
you did. though the man across the table from you couldn’t see the murderous expression in them.
“you killed him.”
“we’re not talking about dex.”
“don’t you fucking say his name.”
matt held something up between his fingers, rubbing his thumb over them like only one other person had before.
“don’t touch those—“
“why do you have these?”
“give them back.”
your anger had turned to a plea as you moved to feel for the dog tags no longer around your neck. the chained handcuffs clinked as you met the end of your range of motion.
“how long have you been involved with poindexter?”
you just stared straight ahead. eyes glossy, unfeeling—
“you should have told me.”
you blinked once, eyes on the dog tags like they were dex, himself.
“i need you to talk to me or this will go so much worse for you.”
“fuck you, matt.”
matt just nodded, hands folded calmly in front of him. he was looking past you, to the camera above the door. it flickered once. matt breathed deeply, like he was wrestling with what to say next. like he knew he shouldn’t say it—
“he’s still alive.”
you felt like you had been thrown into ice water.
“let me see him.”
“no.”
you hand twitched, itching for something to lash out with.
“this will go one of two ways. you get life in prison or you plead insanity and get put in a rehabilitation program.”
you actually snorted, “i’m not insane.”
“doesn’t look like it from this side of the table. what were you possibly thinking?”
“fuck you, matt.”
he exhaled slowly, rubbing his face, “i’m trying to help you. believe it or not your life is about to suck even more than it already does.”
you snorted again, “i would be more worried about everyone else.”
matt tilted his head, lifting a cautioning finger, “what does that mean? is he planning something? i need you to tell me right now.”
you laughed, shaking your head pathetically, “do you realize what you’ve done? you took me… you’ve broken the leash off the beast… what is going to stop him now? t the entire point was so i didn’t—“
matt shifted slightly, the briefest concern washing over his face, “he’ll never be free again. i am going to insure that.”
“you think anything will stop him?” you were laughing again, “i was the only one holding him back.”
“bullshit. he doesn’t listen to anyone.”
you threw your head back with a groan, trying to remember why your head hurt, “he listens to me. he listens to me… you’re going to break him— you can’t—“
“dex knows he needs to be an upstanding citizen. he knows what happens to you if he isn’t.”
you stoppped short, looking up at matt fully now. matt noted the leap in your heart rate.
“you can’t use me against him. please don’t make me leverage…”
“it’s the only thing that has worked.”
you gritted your teeth. this was the last thing you had wanted. you to be used against him… to be—
“is he okay?”
“why him? how the hell did you get tangled up with him?”
you let your head fall forward and sighed, “is he okay?”
“he’ll be fine if he behaves.”
you shook your head, smiling slightly.
“how long? at least tell me how long…”
“i first met him eight years ago.”
“eight—“ matt ran his hand through his hair and stood to his feet, beginning to pace.
“when he was in the fbi?”
you said nothing, only stared at him, eyes locked on him with blame and something more dangerous.
“did he manipulate you?”
“what, are you, my lawyer now?”
“that’s exactly what i am right now— find me a single other lawyer that doesn’t think you’re a lost cause.”
his words stung. they hurt more than you would admit… but he wasn’t wrong. and for a moment you hated him… your gaze stayed fixed on him, he stared back— somehow too intense for a blind man— and the tension was pulled like a taught wire. it was an electrical wire— sparking and zapping, filling the room with a dangerous energy that risked combusting.
“have you given up on me? do you think i’m a lost cause…”
the question dazed him. he took a single step back as if struck. his breathing faltered— he tilted his head slightly as if he hadn’t heard you.
being mad at him would do nothing. he hadn’t killed dex. but he could have… he could have had you shot in the street rather than taken in–
but no—
he had still done this… but he was still here. he had stayed.
“i think you’re in trouble. i think you’ve gone so far past the line that you never even thought to look behind you.”
you stared down at your handcuffed hands, vision blurring slightly, “i don’t think there is a line anymore…” you glanced back at the dog tags that had been set back on the table, “i think there’s only people… people who are willing to do what it takes to stop it and people who just let it happen.”
“there are other ways—“
“people who hurt others and people who stop them.”
“you hurt people too!”
“bad people. i hurt bad people, who do much worse things to innocent people…”
“that is not your judgement—“
“judgement! the judgement of a man who wears devil horns and calls himself a man of faith? the judgement of a jury that will give a killer the death penalty when they don’t even have all the facts—“
“if you’re taking about dex—“
“don’t. dont say his name like you know him.”
“i know him plenty— i have the scars and dead friends because of him. he’s tried to kill me, he’s tried to kill you—“
“he’s never tried to kill me. if he wanted me dead he wouldn’t have missed everytime he threw things at me or shot at me.”
“so what? he’s the exception? you fall in love with the very thing you take people out for?”
“he’s not like them.”
“the things he has done—“ matt spat, “he is a murderer and he is clinically insane. he is more dangerous than even fisk— he kills people and enjoys it. he takes a beating and he laughs.”
matt said your name and you felt a tug in your stomach. he thought you needed saving… he thought you needed saving from the one person who had kept you here—
“so what? you love him? you really love him? you think you understand what the greatest mystery of the world is for someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill me— kill you.”
you slammed your hand in the desk and matt flinched. “he didn’t.” that was the only thing you had ever known. ever been sure about— dex would never— “he won’t.”
“he killed foggy—“ matt clenched and lunged forward like he was going to attack you.
“don’t. don’t you dare bring him into this—“
“he killed foggy because she was going to kill me…”
matt had froze. you watched the circuits in his mind short circuit. you watched the way his head twitched as he scrambled to reach a rational conclusion—
“i told him not to. i begged him not to. i tried to get him to just leave. we could have just left—“ your voice shook and you shook your head as if shaking away the emotions.
“who?”
you gritted your teeth. shook your head once. he would be killed— if it ever got out— dex…
“i won’t say anything that puts it on him.”
there was a curse and matt was pacing again. you may as well have confessed to killing his best friend yourself. matt was distraught— the only relationship you had ever had and it was—
“matthew.”
he stopped to glance your direction, irritation growing, betrayal marked across his face.
“you’re a few years too late for that. this means you’ve been conspiring with him for years— you’ve known— you’re now an accessory. to everything. you need to talk. you need to talk or you will go down for all of it.”
the corner of your mouth twitched up. the camera flickered back on and you breathed deeply, closing your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace flooding over you. you glanced up into the camera and you lied through your teeth. smiling…
“everything benjamin poindexter ever did was on my request. if anyone was manipulated, it was him. he needed stability, i needed someone with more skill. after fisk, i saw an opportunity and he filled it perfectly.”
you turned to matt, jaw set in determination, eyes burning into him with a look you knew he could feel. he had never looked so defeated. he had never looked so shocked or disappointed or horrified— he looked at you like you were a stranger. he shook his head faintly, almost looking completely broken— the door opened and guards rushed in. you were pinned to the table, laughing as your hands were pulled behind your back and you were restrained too tightly to even breathe.
you were hauled to your feet, shoved and dragged forward like you were fighting it and being violent. your eyes were on matt as you were dragged away, feeling not an ounce of remorse or fear.
“thank you, councilor…“
he knew you were lying. his voice was shaking.
“you should have told me…”
he knew you were willing to go down instead of him… he could have helped— he should have known—
“you should have told me you were never really dead.”
the target was fast. surprisingly agile for his size. you glanced to the watch on your wrist. it had stopped working long ago. it had stopped working the night it’s owner died. the face was cracked, but you still saw your reflection in it’s face. shattered and broken, remarkably like yourself. but this watch brought comfort— you only brought death.
the fake daredevil knew you were following him. you had been watching him for a while. he knew that. you knew he was good. too good. military background, fbi— corrupt and deadly. just how you liked them…
“i don’t think that suit belongs to you.”
he stopped walking, head tilted slightly. it reminded you of matt. he turned, slowly. his body was tense— coursing with energy and restraint. he reminded you of a penned up wild animal. a storm cloud being held in a bottle… something feral and deadly but somehow captivating.
“you should go home. it’s dangerous for women to be out by themselves at night.”
it wasn’t a threat.
his head lifted slowly, locating you on the roof above him. there was the faintest smirk on his face. something twisted and unstable.
“lucky for me, i’m not by myself.”
“you don’t have any backup… you wouldn’t need it.”
you inclined your head; clearly he had done research, himself.
“you’re here, are you not? do you often stand by idly if a woman gets grabbed at night?”
he faltered slightly, caught off guard.
you weren’t scared of him… you weren’t even slightly unsettled.
“i—“ he pulled himself together, mind now racing to grasp onto potential tricks or strategies being set up.
“take the suit off.”
“that’s very forward. i’m not one to let a masked woman undress me in an alley.”
you had scaled down the roof and landed a few feet from him. he tensed slightly, caught off guard by your swiftness but he didn’t step back.
“take it off. daredevil is dead. there’s no need to ruin his name…”
“his name?” there was that smirk again. you were struck by the assumption that a real smile from him may be earth shattering. “you’re here for a reputation?”
you said nothing. only watched him, noting his stance— the knife held between two fingers, pressed against his palm— he could have thrown it by now and killed you, but hadn’t.
“are you planning on killing me?” he spun the knives between his fingers, still looking at you with the faintest head tilt. like he couldn’t quite hear you— or like he was deciding something, “because that may not go very well for you.”
“you haven’t killed me yet. which means you don’t see me as a threat.”
“i don’t see anyone as a threat.”
you smiled at this, realizing in horror that you quite liked him. he was remarkably like yourself– reckless and entirely too confident. “and i don’t care if i die trying. seems like we would have quite the fight…”
“tempting.”
“is it?”
“you don’t seem scared of me…”
“i’m not scared of anyone.”
he laughed like he was actually amused and then was eyeing you with that smirk again. like he knew something you didn’t. like he looked forward to proving you wrong— “and you know who i am…” it wasn’t a question. he almost sounded impressed.
you shrugged, sighing slightly, “everyone bleeds.”
this time his mouth twitched up, “only if you can hit them.”
you moved as a mirrored pair. you fired, he threw. you both dodged— the slightest brush against your shoulder had you snapping your head to the side. you had been perfectly pinned to the wall, two knives stuck against in your shirt sleeves, pinning the fabric of your shirt to the brick wall so you hands were on either side of your head. he hissed, looking down at the faintest tear in his suit and the barely bleeding cut in his side.
there was laughter as he glanced at the blood that had come off on his hand. he was smiling— really smiling. and it was just as lethal as you had imagined.
“you know… i kind of like you.”
“you are much more fun than the usual…”
he glanced at each of your outstretched arms, almost amused. as he approached you, you felt your stomach twist. he was perfectly calm. his face held no malice or anger or even that twisted look men often got when they thought they had the upper hand over you. he stopped inches from you and you met his eyes with a cool collectedness that was just as off putting as he was.
“i never miss... i can’t.”
“do you want a sticker?”
there was that laugh again. twisted and slightly off— it was almost dizzying. “if i wanted to kill you, i would have hit you.”
“i’m not going to thank you.”
“oh, i wouldn’t want you to…”
he was so close. so intense… so…consuming. almost magnetic. there was a static in the air between you. an energy that buzzed like a powerline. it was thick and heavy and filled with the promise of something looming. like the sky before a storm, hair standing up before the strike of lightning. the earth warning of a horrible collision. a dangerous mixture in the air that created a rare, lethal phenomenon…
then, as if the world tilted and threw you back on your feet right before you fell, he had his hands on both sides of you. you flinched in a way that made your heart race. his arms were outstretched to keep that minuscule space between you. he tore the knives out of the bricks that pinned you to the wall behind you. you had your gun loaded and drawn again in a second, pointed at him.
he was remarkably calm— that may have been the most terrifying thing about him. he was still smiling, looking impressed— looking like he was enjoying himself.
“take it off.”
a grin. devilish and devestating.
“you first.”
“i have the gun.”
another smirk, head tilting slightly, “so you do…”
he stepped closer, until the gun was directly against his chest. your breath caught, head spinning slightly. he was terrifying. he was insane… he held his hands up, similar to how he had had them pinned, now smirking like he was looking forward to whatever happened next. you cocked the gun but found yourself no longer wanting to pull the trigger. his mouth twitched, not moving an inch aside from the slow, relaxed rising and falling of his chest.
you reached forward and still he didn’t so much as flinch. your hand gripped the mask and you pulled it off his head. it was a gesture that seemed entirely too intimate— it should have been rough, he should have fought you—
instead he just smirked. he didn’t even move to stop you. his eyes were locked onto you in a look that almost made your knees buckle. instead of the twisted stairs you had always gotten from men, his eyes were lit with something deeper— a desire. not a hunger, not a dark intention— there was pure intensity and a startling clarity in his eyes. and they were brown. a soft brown, deep enough to get lost in.
he still smirked, hands still in the air like he had no intention— or even thought- of ever trying anything. he was dazzling. striking in a way that was almost impossible.
“you next?”
oh, he was fun…
“maybe next time, poindexter. or do you prefer bullseye?”
he stiffened just slightly. he hadn’t realized you knew who he was. you had recognized him… you knew him. you really saw him. his mouth curved up again, eyes shifting over you in a way that almost felt invasive. so much intensity…
“don’t look so excited, gorgeous. people only ever get to see my face once…”
this seemed to only excite him more. his tongue flashed over his lips just once and your stomach rolled. he was dangerous. he was lethal…
movement caught your peripheral seconds before a gun went off. you threw your arm out and tackled bullseye hard enough to knock you both into the opposite wall. you felt the bullet fly past your ear and hit directly where he had been standing. bullseye threw out his hand and a knife sailed through the air, sinking into the roof sniper’s chest and sending him tumbling onto the ground, dead. his eyes were on you, though. you didn’t think he had taken his eyes off you once— even to throw the knife.
he was transfixed.
he was bewildered.
he was obsessed…
you gritted your teeth against the so called food between your teeth. it was gritty and burnt and everything there had made you nauseous. you had grown to hate the color orange and you hated shared living spaces even more. nothing here was organized or damn near sterile and as the days passed, you began to feel yourself slip.
you had been allowed to keep the dog tags. they sat around your neck like a phantom hug. the first night here you had tried to escape. the second night here, you had attacked your guard. now, three weeks in, you were put on suicide watch. you knew it was matt’s doing. you knew he had done it as your brother, not your lawyer. you had been allowed to keep the dog tags because everyone learned you would never risk breaking them…
twice a week, matt would visit. he would talk. you would listen, each time looking less and less like yourself while a hallow and haunted expression took over. he would update you on dex. as if you hadn’t had access to news…
“you’re only held here until trial.”
“you can still take everything back…”
there would be no trial.
you had confessed fully.
“he isn’t going to be sentenced for almost a year. by then, we can—“
“matthew.”
you put a hand up and exhaled, not wanting to do this today. you were more tired than usual. you started to wonder if maybe this place would be your undoing…
it had been a month. a full month without dex. a full month without foggy… a month since you had confessed and dex had been kept in custody.
“you should have represented him.”
the look on matt’s face was thoroughly amusing. as if it had been hard for him to argue for someone who had been all but proven guilty. because he knew you cared about him— and yet he still hadn’t understood.
you let out a laugh and wondered if today would be the day you finally snapped. “murdock, face the wall.” you glanced to the door and felt an anger in your chest. they had booked you as murdock. you were called murdock or a number. not even your new name— the name you had chosen to take— the name on the marriage license, the name you carried with you like it meant everything.
“good news, miss murdock. you’re moving.”
matt had stood to his feet, clearly uninformed, “what— but she can’t go in general pop, she’s dangerous. she’s—“
“she’s going to a psych ward. between her violent tendencies and her desire to harm herself, she is too high risk here. judge just cleared it.”
“what, but—“
“mister murdock, i thought you wanted your sister kept out of prison. and this prison is surely no place to grow a baby—“
the pen you had tucked up your sleeve clattered to the ground in a sharp inhale. your own heart beat was all you felt in your head— louder and more overwhelming than the fights that broke out at night—
“what?” you didn’t recognize your own voice.
“she’s…” there was another look you had never seen from matt before. it was disgust. it was horror. it was pity… it was betrayal. “she’s with child?”
“i assumed she knew… i figured she had told you—“
your heart was beating incredibly fast and your legs suddenly couldn’t hold your weight. you stumbled forward and it was matt who caught you. you could feel his own pulse as your hand closed around his wrist. he was panicking. he had never been caught off guard so much—
“well, congratulations, miss murdock… i truly wish you the best.”
your vision blacked out and the last thing you felt was matt catching you just before you hit the ground.
“you’re smiling. who died?” foggy eyed you skeptically, the slightest smirk on his face.
you glanced at him with an incredulous smile, rolling your eyes slightly. this seemed to only encourage him more and you shifted to look at him as he continued, “the fact that you’re here at all nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“it hasn’t been that long…”
“a year. i think it was matt’s last birthday… i haven’t seen you since…..” he trailed off and your chest constricted.
well, shit.
“did i hear something about you having a date?”
you gripped the glass of wine too tightly, eyeing foggy with raised eyebrows, “sorry? no. still no time— or desire– for that. perhaps you heard karen say matt always wished i had a date. found a nice man. settled down… whatever the hell that means.” your heart ached just at saying his name. you never talked about him… you had no one to talk to him about. sometimes in the quiet of your apartment you would just say his name so you didn’t forget the feeling. so wherever he was, he knew you would never forget him— would never feel completely whole ever, now.
“still um…” foggy gestured to the city outside vaguely.
you quirked your lip up, “doing my vigilante shit?”
“off the record, of course…”
“well of course, mister nelson.”
it has always been easier with foggy. he was less intense. less skeptical, less critical… he had known you since college— while he was in law school with matt and you were causing trouble on the streets and crashing in their apartment too drunk or too high or too beat up to make it home… he was almost a friend, if someone like you could have those… deserved those…
you walked home that night with your shoulders lighter but feeling a weight in your stomach. part of you longed for something else. a normalcy. friendships that didn’t involve hiding what you did at night or hoping all the blood was scrubbed off your hands and clothes as you met for drinks. you paused at the crosswalk, feeling a shift in the evening.
you squared your shoulders and steadied your breathing, turning your head just enough to listen behind you. the footsteps stopped when you did– your hand reached for your gun as you heard the rustling of a jacket.
you turned. and you should have been more worried when you saw who stood behind you. wearing his civilian clothes and not the usual red suit you saw him in. he was staring at you like you had been following him.
“who was he?”
“if you’re going to keep following me, you could at least do it quietly.”
poindexter’s mouth twitched into that damn smirk and you watched him step closer. he was only slightly less intimidating out of the suit— you couldn’t see the curve of his muscles or how he stretched the suit out much more than matt had—
“who was your date?”
you inclined an eyebrow, smirking, “are you jealous special agent poindexter?”
“i’m actually not fbi anymore… i was a bit–” he tilted his head, “unpredictable”
your mouth twitched up into a smile. unpredictable, unstable, untrustworthy… everything you usually put down. yet somehow you seemed drawn to him. “i knew that. what happened to the suit?”
“i only wear it when i’m told to.” but his heart was pounding erratically. you kept tabs on him just as much as he did you— you knew. you had actually taken the time to find things out about him— his mind raced and to him it may as well have been a marriage proposal.
“what does wilson fisk want with daredevil?”
dex looked surprised— almost guilty— but impressed. he stuck his hands in his pockets and stepped closer, “answer my question first.” he didn’t seem threatening. you should have been on higher alert— your guard up, your weapon ready—
“it wasn’t a date… just dinner with a friend.”
“i thought you didn’t have friends.”
“i don’t… foggy is different.”
“your lawyer friend…”
“we go way back.”
“sounds like something you would say about someone you dated…”
“sounds like bullseye is jealous…”
he almost smiled.
a full month of running into him oh so casually. as if he hadn’t been keeping tabs on you. as if he didn’t follow you around in his free time and obnoxiously interrupt fights you got yourself into while the rest of the city slept.
“if you follow me home again, i might have to take a warning shot at you.”
“i truly think that would have the complete opposite effect on me that you would hope for… can’t let people know you’re into me following you home?”
your mouth twitched and you chose to ignore his first comment, though your face lit up like a tomato, “can’t let people know i have an obsessive guard dog who used to be fbi and now works for one of the most dangerous men in the city.”
this time he did smile and it still rattled your very soul, “you didn’t say obsessive like it was a bad thing… and you aren’t supposed know about that.” he almost sounded sorry.
“i don’t think i’m supposed to be anywhere near you either… and yet—“
“can i walk you home?”
“you would anyway.”
he didn’t argue.
“at least this time walk next to me, not behind me.”
dex was smiling as he joined your side, falling in perfect stride with you. he walked with a lightness that did not become someone so deadly and dangerous. he looked at you with the softness of a lover, not someone who could kill you before you even blinked.
every time he had run into you, he had no business being anywhere near you. the second time you met him you had almost shot at him. the third, you had nearly stabbed him. he hadn’t stopped you either time… the fifth time you ran into him— while he caught you from being ran over in the middle of the street, he had mentioned you would be even more lethal if people saw your face. you had never taken your mask off near him. you had never shown him your face. you asked him how long he had been following you, with his arms pinned behind his back, while he just grinned. he could have stopped you from restraining him. he could have killed you with a single flick of his wrist— but he never stopped you. he never fought back. he enjoyed every second of it…
“why didn’t you stop me? you knew i was following you for weeks… you didn’t say anything.”
you stopped outside your building, glancing up at him with a tired smile. you said nothing. dex leaned in closer, “what?”
your mouth twitched up, “if i answer that, i may sound just as insane as you.”
this intrigued him all the more.
“come sit with me.”
this nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.
“are you inviting your stalker into your home? that’s a terrible idea… probably the worst one you’ve ever had…”
you smiled and dex felt his chest constrict.
“no… i’m inviting you onto the roof.” you pulled down the fire escape ladder and he followed you without a word. without possibly thinking it was a trap, that you could be luring him to his death… he would follow you straight there regardless— with that same damn smirk.
you sat on the edge of the roof, feet dangling off the edge as if there was a net to catch you. “it’s lonely.”
dex looked at you perplexed, thinking he had misheard you.
“that’s why i don’t stop you. i like the company…”
like the sun accompanies the moon. or like a bullet accompanying a gun… backwards. like opposing magnets facing each other but not quite meeting.
“oh,” it came out quiet. softer. dex considered this for a moment. his feet swung gently back and forth and he lost himself in thought. you knew the look of overthinking well. never having anything to stop it or drown it out—
you nudged him back to reality and he breathed, “okay.” that was it. he had accepted that answer— liked the way you said it…
he came by almost every night. sometimes as himself. sometimes as bullseye. sometimes as daredevil… sometimes as an exhausted man who had never had anything remotely like what he deserved. every part of him you sat with, never looking at him differently if he carried himself a little tighter or looked more spread thin. he could be covered in blood but assure you it wasn’t his. he would have a black eye and busted lip and you would just sit with him, bringing him ice or a damp cloth. you would sit for hours— shoulder to shoulder but not quite touching. sometimes you wouldn’t talk— other times you would see just how much you could provoke him before he said something stupid…
it was nice. it was terrifying.
you liked that he had no filter. he was obsessed with everything about you. he would say something horrifying with a straight face and you wouldn’t look at him differently— you would just nod and say you saw his point. that was the final straw for him— you weren’t scared of him. you didn’t look at him like he was insane or broken… you just accepted him. you listened. you almost seemed to…like him.
“what if i was jealous? that night…” he said one night when the city was finally sleeping.
“what if i wanted you to be?”
there was that smirk again. his eyes lit up, sparkling with something intoxicating and surely a very bad idea. he just looked at you, like he was solving a case, like he was reading a file.
“i was wrong, by the way…”
you inclined your head, waiting.
“you are a threat…”
you shifted slightly, almost reaching for your gun.
dex laughed softly and you relaxed only slightly, though that should have put you even more on edge. a twisted part of you could easily fall for this man— but you still didn’t trust him. not fully. not yet. but you didn’t hate him. so far from it… and that scared you more than everything about benjamin poindexter’s past.
“oh, you’re terrifying.” his voice had dropped slightly, almost rasping now, “i think you could just about bring me to my knees without even moving a muscle.”
oh.
“and you know what—“ there was that disbelieving, amused laugh again, “i think i would let you.”
wherever you were, it was sterile. but it held no softness or warmth. it could never be your apartment or anywhere he was… it was too cold. the lights were too bright. and when you opened your eyes, matt was watching you once again. the handcuffs were gone. you still wore your orange jumpsuit, but there was pajamas folded neatly beside you.
“are you just babysitting me full time now?”
matt sat with his back against the wall and you knew he was eyeing you with a pity look, even under his glasses.
“don’t pity me.”
“i’m not.”
he was.
“is it his?”
his, as if his name was taboo. or a filthy word he couldn’t bring himself to say.
“if you mean dex…”
“you know exactly who i mean.”
you smirked despite the situation, hand resting on your stomach that held proof that you were still capable of good, “yes. it’s his… i’m not one for polygamy, matthew.”
“ah, how noble for a murderer…”
your mouth twitched, “i would bite anyone else’s head off…”
“so of course you find someone worse…”
“he’s good…”
matt snorted and you glared at him.
“you think you love him… whatever he’s-“
“matt.” you let your hand fall on your stomach and sighed, “i—“
matt sighed, shaking his head and holding his finger up in a way that had always meant you were done talking, “bringing in a baby— that just complicated everything… but it may work out for you.”
you wanted to laugh. actually you wanted to cry— with all the chaos and destruction in your life you had never once considered this a possibility. it had never crossed your mind to be even be something to ever think about— there was a sick sort of twisting in your stomach. you and dex were never what you would consider careful— even still- this seemed like a cruel joke. for him to not be here…
to not know—
to have created something purely good.
“i want to talk to him.”
you knew matt would argue. you knew he would try to talk you out of it— to convince you that he was the absolute last thing you needed and that your baby would be better off as far as possible—
“okay.”
the fight seemed to snap back into your very soul. you looked at him, blinked once. daring him to repeat himself in case you misheard him.
“i’ll get you a phone call. i can’t promise anything else…”
your stomach twisted, heart fluttering as a softness settled around you.
“matt—“
you grabbed his hand as he stood up. he looked surprised— almost startled. your grip was soft, hand shaking just slightly, “thank you…”
he nodded once, sighing.
“please keep him safe…”
“i’ll do what i can…”
“matt.” your tone was pleading and matt seemed to fight the urge to pull you in for a hug.
“i need to pay him a visit anyway.”
there were tears in your eyes now, though you weren’t completely sure why. something about the way he was still here. still looking out for you— his damned loyalty now that there was a baby involved…
“you’re going to be a damn uncle…”
you almost laughed. because really, that was the most ridiculous part about all of this. somehow… after everything. you had still been given this one thing. this gift… this flicker of some sort of normal future.
matt said nothing, but you didn’t miss the smile on his face as he turned for the door.
you knew something was wrong before you had even unlocked your door. something had broken even before you saw the broken dishes, and the usual quiet of the apartment was tainted— there was a heaviness, a darkness. you turned the light on and your eyes found him before your brain could even process the shattered plates—
“dex.”
he was somewhere else entirely. he sat on the floor, knees to his chest, wide eyed at absolutely nothing— breath ragged and labored, made evident by his shirtless form that was soaked in sweat.
“dex…” you dropped anything you had in your hand and closed the door. hard enough to maybe snap him out of it.
it didn’t.
you cursed softly, crossing the apartment in a remarkably small amount of steps. he looked so…broken. nothing like himself. your stomach twisted and you put a hand out, timidly— as if reaching for a dog with a tendency to bite.
“benjamin— dex… hey—“
your hand on his knee drew his gaze to you. you took a shaky breath, keeping your eyes locked on him. “hey…” you felt stupidly relieved that he was coherent.
dex opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath. he was shaking. eyes glossy like he had been crying. his eyes were bloodshot, his expression almost void aside from the haunted look that you knew you would never forget. you had never seen him like this— not really. he had always had swings. he would overthink and spiral for hours. you knew his triggers by now— you had always been there to talk him down. to sit with him while he relived everything in silence.
“dex.”
his gaze was on the wall again— there was a hole that hadn’t been there. he looked guilty— he looked like he hated himself for it. for a brief moment you had a vision of him running. getting as far from you as he could in case he hurt you too.
“can you stand up?”
his eyes were vacant again, glossy, slowly drifting to you. you saw recollection strike him— a clarity washed over him as he looked up at you like he had just woken up from a heavy sleep that left him disoriented and lost.
“dex…” you shifted so you knelt between his legs. his expression softened slightly, realizing you were here.
“hey—“ he had tried to find that smirk. he had tried to find that tone that made everything suggestive or seductive. but his voice shook and his tone was uneven and cracked.
“i’m here… you’re okay.”
he shifted closer to you instinctively.
“look at me.”
this was a softness you had never had a use for. your voice carried further than it should have. it seemed to carry through the apartment and sink deep into dex’s own chest. he lifted his head, eyes locked onto you like you were an anchor. you didn’t move, hand still on his knee with a steady pressure that proved you were there. he had needed you there— more than you realized… he couldn’t be alone. he shouldn’t be alone…
“i’m sorry.”
you shouldn’t have just left him.
it was only supposed to be twenty four hours.
you realized just then how much he really was like yourself. you should never be alone. you were always alone… always surrounded with your too loud thoughts that carried and ricocheted around the room like bullets.
dex breathed deeply and it sounded like a shattered cry. you shifted closer, until all he could feel was you. you had never been this close to him… you had never been this close to anyone. even a hug from matt felt nothing like this level of intimacy. “eyes on me. don’t go wandering off on me…” dex tilted his head back just slightly so he was eye level with you. you felt the air rush out of your lungs and your stomach twisted uncomfortably. there was something in the space between you. the opposing magnets were now on your backs— pushing you forward. someone was on a diving board, propelling you to jump in way over your head.
“i’m sorry…”
he almost sounded like himself.
“no.”
you racked your brain for anything of help. grounding exercises, breathing patterns— things that helped with a panic attacks but of no help when dex was completely lost in his own mind.
“hey.”
you took both of his hands and he didn’t flinch. he didn’t flinch… you hadn’t touched him like this since the night you stitched him up. brushes of shoulders and occasional boosts during fights— nothing like this. nothing so electric.
“focus on me… okay? i’m right here.”
dex nodded, eyes softening, locked onto you like he would drown if he looked away. slowly, you lowered his hands onto your own shoulders and you watched his breathing deepen. his arms trembled slightly but it had nothing to do with his mind now… a clarity struck him and it was the most terrifying look you had ever seen. he looked like he wanted to swallow your soul— like he could see every inch of you suddenly. he had tears in his eyes and you said nothing. you didn’t move, your pulse hammering erratically under your ribs. his hand moved from your shoulder, sliding down your sides in a way that made your eyes close. he took your own hands, removing them from his knees and placing them on his own shoulders.
oh.
you reminded yourself to breathe. steady. even. like this was an interrogation.
every nerve in your body seemed to freeze— anticipating, on fire, frantic with the weight of the moment.
“dex…”
he wasn’t breathing. he had no idea what to do with you in his arms. he was scared to move. scared to twitch muscle— terrified he would break you. terrified you would become like the plates or the wall— like he wouldn’t be able to carefully handle you… like he would break the thing he had come to need so much…
your words were a ghost against his ear, “i can take it. it’s okay.”
he pulled you against him like a predator pounding on prey. it was sudden and all encompassing. every nerve in your body was set off— your arms wrapped around him like they had meant to be there all along. you felt his shoulders shake. you felt his face bury against your shoulder, pulling you closer desperately, even though there was no room between you. he was crying. you knew he was… his fists tightened around the fabric of your shirt like he hated himself for it. like he was restraining himself— trying to stop himself… to pull himself together.
he had never been held like this. you had never held anyone like this… like you meant it. like you were the sole thing keeping him together… his breath was hot against your neck as he breathed you in entirely. you realized like a startling splash of water that you were holding him together. he had never had this. you had never wanted this before… your fingers slid from his shoulders up the back of his neck and into his hair.
the groan that rattled through him was visceral. it had awoken something inside him that he hadn’t known was deep in slumber. your fingers raked gently through his hair and he breathed out like it hurt. he was shaking more now, head falling heavier against you as if he couldn’t physically keep it together.
“i’ve got you, dex. i can take it…”
your words seemed to shatter him completely. then rebuild him. he buried himself against you and you swore he almost purred as you twisted strands of his hair between your fingers. you gave him the faintest tug and there was another animalistic groan.
oh.
“you can let go… it’s okay.”
you didn’t mean let go of you.
there was a shaky breath as he fought to restrain himself. he was shaking, trembling like he was about to come undone. your finger shifted to the back of his head again, tracing circles through his hair. your other hand dipped between his shoulders, rubbing his back in a way that felt natural.
he shifted his head just slightly, nose brushing against your neck in a way that set you on fire. and then, just as if you imagined it, his teeth grazed the skin of your throat.
your body reacted before your mind had processed it. a tidal wave crashed through you as fire spread through your nerves. you swore you felt his smirk against you as he shifted just slightly, hot breath trailing across your neck, to your collarbone. you breathed out shakily, grip tightening on his shoulders until your nails dug in slightly. his exhale sounded like a growl and when he dropped his head again it was with more intention. his mouth closed around your throat, tongue sliding down to your collarbone, where he bit down again, harder.
he was making sure it stuck. teeth marks, marks from sucking on your skin. he was marking you… claiming you. and you didn’t stop him.
benjamin poindexter was already smirking when matt entered the room. it was like he knew something matt didn’t. it was like he always knew he had the upper hand despite being the one in handcuffs… matt was always unsettled by him. he hated him but there was something visceral in it— he never knew what he would do next. he never knew just how far he would go, absolutely unprovoked…
“good afternoon, councilor.”
“don’t bullshit me, dex.”
his mouth twitched again, “what can i do for you?” there was that tone again— matt was visibly on edge. the polite words coated with a tone void of all emotion.
“she’s going to take the fall for you.”
his posture tightened. he froze. his infuriating smirk slipped and he actually looked capable of emotion—
“she said that she did all of it. everything you did was because she ordered it. she’ll get the death penalty for this— she–“
dex’s knuckles closed around the table. his jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid. “so what… you’re a good lawyer.” his voice betrayed his act of not caring.
“there’s nothing i can do now. she confessed on camera. there’s no jury in the world that will let her walk…”
“why… why would she do that…”
“you tell me! what the he’ll do you have on her? what kind of hold—“
dex laughed, bitterly and pitifully. “i told her to run. i told her to get as far away from me as possible…” he let his head fall back and shook his head, “always so damn stubborn… god, she wouldn’t listen for a damn thing… she knew what she was doing… goddamn her. i told her from the beginning— and i always fucking protected her—“
“no one protected her from you. if i would have known—“
“it was her idea…” dex’s voice was soft– almost fond. it made matt’s hair stand up, every sense of his dialed to eleven and a heavy uneasiness settled over him.
“what was her idea— not foggy—“
“the marriage.”
dex smirked at the look of shock on matt’s face. the way his body tensed and he was thrown completely off kilter.
“what…”
dex smirked further, leaning forward with a smug expression, “she didn’t tell you… did you think we just hooked up a few times? formed some sort of sick and twisted…. well- maybe we did.”
matt’s jaw clenched, mouth twitching, fists clenching as he fought for restraint.
“you’re lying.”
“i’m not. i don’t get off on lying to people… the truth always seems so much more shocking…”
“you’re— prove it. how do i know you’re not just running some scheme? not just using her for—“
“you can go get the marriage license. i thought the words and dog tags were good enough but she wanted to be all official…”
“the dog tags—“
dex looked matt over as if gaging his next move. matt looked torn between rage and denial– debating if he should fight or flee.
“why are you here?”
“i thought you should know. thought maybe you should care that your wife is taking your sentencing.”
matt didn’t miss the rise in dex’s pulse. he didn’t miss the anxious grinding of his teeth. he was putting on a front but matt couldn’t see the way his nails dug into the palms of his hand until there was blood. his hands shook, his control slowly diminishing.
“this is on you. she begged me to save you… she demanded it, frankly. i don’t understand what she’s doing with a psychopath like you but—“
this time dex did smile— grinning like he had won a fight. this was something they agreed on. “do what you have to do. but once she sets her mind to something, there’s no changing it…”
“like picking you.”
“like when she held a loaded gun to my head because i was going to kill you.”
matt froze. dex watched the gears in his mind spin, processing—
“what?”
“she was going to shoot me in the head. protecting you… i would have let her.”
matt just stared— saying nothing, head tilted slightly as if listening for the lie.
you had—
dex’s heartbeat never changed. the only time he had ever heard it increase was when you were in the room or you were brought up. god damn him…
benjamin poindexter was his fucking brother in law.
“i can get you a phone call.” a single act of grace before he tried to put this all on him again, “she has news.”
dex’s heartbeat increased again and matt hesitated. he actually did care for you— even if he would watch the world burn just for something to do…
“is she okay?”
there was genuine concern in his voice— a softness. he would worry about you. he would sit and stew awaiting the news— he would spiral and likely do something reckless.
“she’s pregnant.”
“do you know any women you want gotten rid of?”
you stopped dead as you fried and egg and turned, slowly, taking dex in as if you had misheard him.
“good morning? sorry— what?”
dex was not fully dressed yet, which meant something was bothering him. you eyed him quizzically, removing the pan off the burner.
“i need a date. but it has to be someone i can neutralize afterward so they don’t talk.”
“i—“ you set the plate down harder than you had meant to and dex flinched, “excuse me? you need a date? you’re planning on asking some woman out?”
dex froze, realizing his grave mistake.
“oh, no— it’s not like that—“
you eyed the knife near the butter dish and glanced at dex expectantly, waiting for him to talk. your eyes promised that you were not asking.
“it’s something i don’t want you anywhere near.”
“sounds very loyal and monogamous…” your tone was sarcastic but your voice held an edge.
dex’s mouth twitched up, “you’re jealous.”
you glared at him furiously.
his smile only grew as he stood up, “you are jealous. please, sweetheart. it isn’t like i’m going to pay her any attention.”
“who the hell is her?”
his eyes flashed and you were horrified to realize he was enjoying this. he was getting off on you being jealous over him. that you actually couldn’t bare the thought of someone else on his arm or giving him eyes, even if it was completely one sided and would result in her unfortunate demise.
you wanted him. you had actually been driven slightly insane of the thought of someone else with him. he was grinning. that twisted smile that effected you in all the wrong ways.
he crossed the apartment and stopped just in front of you, leaning in slightly until your breath hitched and you were sure he could feel your pulse. you braced yourself for his body against you— the roaming hands, the heavy grip, the hunger that never seemed to be placated —
and he grabbed his coffee mug and gave you a wicked smirk as he drank from it.
you blinked once, staring at him as if he was next on your hit list. “i’m going with you.”
“i don’t want you attached to this.”
“i don’t give a fuck. i’m going.”
dex had irritated you now and that seemed to amuse him even further. he watched you cross the room— away from him- eyes still trailing your every movement.
“are you upset with me?”
he could always tell with you. with other people he guessed, trying to understand why they possibly felt the way they did— until he had met you when love and obsession mixed together to form this twisted relationship between you that wasn’t entirely healthy, but seemed to be the only thing keeping you both living.
you crossed the kitchen with a huff, glancing over your shoulder with a look of disgust. dex straightened his shoulders and followed you across the room with his eyes, “are you—“ you disappeared into your room and slammed the door. dex cursed, but he had the faintest smirk on his face as if he was very much amused by this. he stepped into your— and also his, at this point— room, not at all stopped by the slammed door or your glare.
“you’re angry with me.”
you were digging through your closet, grunting in response. all that seemed to do was encourage dex, as if you being jealous and mad at him was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. he followed you into the closet, standing behind you in silence. his chest was pressed against your back and you tensed. dex smirked again, lowering his head just slightly until his breath was on your neck, “i suppose if we’re doing the silent treatment, you won’t mind if i keep my mouth occupied elsewhere…”
you inhaled sharply, cursing the way your body reacted to him. you closed your eyes, hands pausing their sifting through your clothes. dex placed a single, open mouthed kiss against your neck, “sorry you were jealous…”
sorry you were jealous. not sorry for making you jealous. not—
you turned quickly and put your hand against his face; kiss he was about to give you hitting your open palm. dex was smirking as he pulled away, glancing at you from over your hand innocently.
“would you like to accompany me?”
you scoffed, turning your back to him again.
“do you own a dress? i think i’ve only seen you in clothes that provide adequate stretch and agility.”
he knew he was pushing you now. dex though it was fun to provoke you— make it so you gave him that irritated glare that could never fully reach anger.
“i happen to own several. just because you have never seen me in them, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
dex’s fingers twitched, jaw clenching slightly.
ah ha.
that had done it…
“show me.”
you smirked to yourself— no matter what, he would always be easier to get to. it took almost nothing to make him jealous or possessive or over protective.
“show me.”
there was a desperation in his voice now, an almost plead.
you turned slowly, looking him up and down, “patience, benjamin… one might think you’re desperate.”
“do you want me to beg? it’s not as if i haven’t before…”
you smirked again, adjusting the collar of his shirt. maybe you did. maybe you enjoyed that. maybe you had earned it…
“fine.” you pulled out a black dress that had proven very useful in the past. “but i expect you to look pretty too…” you patted dex’s cheek with a suggestive smirk and all dex could manage in response was a low, pathetic growl.
your hand shook as you lifted the phone to your ear. matt was watching you with an expression caught somewhere between fear and pity— he wouldn’t put it past you to say something to send dex on a murder spree or give him the motivation to break out.
“hey…” you couldn’t fight the tears in your eyes at the shaky voice on the other end. it had been months. you weren’t supposed to show emotion. you weren’t supposed to react or do anything that would make it so he would be used against you— but you couldn’t help it. you missed him. you needed him… you wanted nothing more than to see him and make sure he hadn’t completely lost control in his time away from you, trapped with his thoughts.
“are you okay?”
“i’m— i’m….” worn down, exhausted, slowly breaking… worried about the stage of this baby that didn’t deserve to be brought into any of this–
dex’s voice shook on the other end and you but your lip to stop from crying. you blamed the baby, but really, dex had always held you together. it was twisted and backwards, but he was the one who always made it bareable. liveable….
“how’s….” there was almost a disbelieving laugh there, “how’s our baby?” your heart swelled and then sank, making your stomach twist in a wave of nausea.
“she….he… it’s okay… it’s…” it’s ours.
“she? you said she first…”
“i don’t know… it isn’t just an it…”
you could almost hear him smiling.
“matt told you…”
“i might have stabbed him if he didn’t.”
this you did laugh at slightly, hand on your stomach like you could feel the baby moving. you could imagine it— part of you itched for that day. hand on your stomach, tea mug in your hand, leaning back against dex’s chest in a house far away from all of this…
“are you okay?”
“don’t worry about me.”
“dex—“
“they got me on meds… the councilor got me an insanity deal… i’m in a goddamn padded room. or it feels like it— but i’m not…. i’m not alone. they have me…bettering myself.”
“good.” you fought the urge to cry in relief. he was out of prison— he wasn’t alone… his own mind would kill him. you smiled against the phone, closing your eyes as if imagining it wasn’t between you.
“i’m not really—“
the line clicked and hummed with the tone of a dead signal.
“dex?”
the line was dead.
that hadn’t been five minutes—
“no…. no—“
matt was there, then. one hand on your forehead, pulling you in for a hug you hadn’t realized you needed. your arms wrapped around him and you cried into his stomach like you were ten years old again.
“i’m sorry…” his hand smoothed your hair, holding you tightly like he knew you were about to break apart, “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry…” matt repeated it like a prayer while you just clung to him in a desperate, futile attempt to get yourself back together.
the ledge you had talked him down from tonight had been different. this one was almost literal— as he stood with shaking hands with his hand around his own throat.
“dex.”
his tearful eyes met yours, shaking his head slightly, “i can’t…. i can’t get it out of my head— the things….. the things i did– the things i sometimes want to do…”
you had debated calling matt just for something drastic. he could take him in— he could almost beat him…
“we have both done fucked up things. we may never make up for them…” your words came without much register to what you were saying.
“no— no. you never worked for him! you never—“
“dex, you had nothing to hold on to. he gave you purpose… he put you on a pedestal and praised your every move… you were like a stray dog… attaching to the first hand that tossed you food.”
dex’s eyes were still on you, jaw clenched and hands shaking as if in a fight with himself, “you…. you knew what i did. you knew that i—“
“you needed something, dex. i saw it in you the first time i met you… you were searching. for purpose, for a reason, for anyone who would see you as something more than a weapon.”
his breath faltered and his grip around his throat loosened only slightly.
“you know something…” you fought the urge to rush towards him as his fingers twitched, “i never could bring myself to go through with it… i never miss. i can’t. yet i couldn’t fucking go through with it. it’s like i’m waiting… waiting for someone to step in. to stop me… to care enough to fucking— they never did. not once…”
you had tears in your eyes now, watching him with an expression you couldn’t hide, “dex…”
“it’s like maybe i just should, then… maybe i am irredeemable and past saving… i should just take myself off the board since no one else is strong enough or good enough to do it…”
you bit your lip to stop a sob, “no. no… don’t say that. if you’re not worth saving, then i have no chance…”
“you?” his expression softened, head tilting slightly, clarity returning momentarily, “you don’t even compare… you’re so good. too good to me… too kind to me… you’re so fucking beautiful. and i don’t see myself ever deserving you…”
“don’t you fucking leave me.” this time it came out as a sob, “my brother is dead. you are all i have!”
his eyes widened slightly, taking a step back and lowering his hands. he didn’t fully believe you yet… he still knew you would be better without him.
“i need you. please god, you can’t do this. if you go, then—“ your voice shook as more tears fell, “then i have nothing… there’s nothing tethering me to sanity or humanity… i just— i… i need you. okay? please… please don’t leave me here… please don’t take yourself away from me— i–“
when you nearly collapsed under the weight of grief, dex was there. he had stumbled forward to catch you, now shaking more than he had been. his eyes were wide, staring past you like his own mind wouldn’t let him believe it.
“your north star…” you breathed out shakily, clinging to dex like he may disappear if you loosened your hold even a little, “you said you needed it…. you said you would always look for it—“
“it’s you…” his voice was hallow, as if confessing it was condemning you to death, “it’s you. but i don’t deserve you. and you shouldn’t have to—“
“no.” your fists tightened around the collars of his shirt, “let me… let me be your north star. please… let me hold you together and tether you and— please, god- if it keeps you here… i just need you to stay here….”
dex eyed you like he had been shot— not believing it, but feeling the impact, “i’m not…. i’m not a good man. i can’t…. i can’t help you be better. i can’t…. i’m not like…” matt. he wouldn’t say his name.
“i don’t care. i don’t fucking care, dex… i don’t want good or a moral compass… i just— i want you. i need you. please let that be enough…”
dex kissed you like he was scared of you. fingers tentative and gentle, like he was defusing a bomb. like maybe he had made you up and his touch would cause you to evaporate like smoke. you didn’t disappear under his touch— you kissed him back like you had been waiting years. and dex melted into your touch, body coiled tightly beneath you, flush against you like he needed to crawl in your skin. heavy and desperate and messy… you clung to him like you had no greater need than holding him together.
“marry me…”
his tongue paused against your own, lips slowly pulling back from you, nose still crushed against your own.
“what did you just say?” his tone was like a warning– the way he would laugh before a death sentence.
“marry me. promise me you’ll stay…”
“i—“ his eyes took you in fully, wide and wild, as if now he really was hallucinating.
“i meant all of it. every fucking word…”
“i—“ the world seemed to tilt, his chest constricted as the city around him closed in like a crushed water bottle. he stared at you; horrified and disbelieving and close to spiraling.
“you’re serious.”
it could have been a prank. you could have laughed it off and pushed him off the building and he still would have loved you. he would have thanked you for the wonderful final thought before splattering on the concrete and seeing nothing again. you would have been his final thought. your smile as you mockingly laughed, you standing before him in the morning in only his unbuttoned shirt, you as his wife…
“whatever this is, it isn’t fucking casual. the first night i brought you home i knew you would never leave.”
dex couldn’t feel his legs and wondered if the air on this roof was thinner because of how high up he was—
“marry me, benjamin poindexter… before we both go down and no one remembers us. let me be everything to you. let me be your—“
dex’s lips crashed onto yours again, needier and messier and more desperate than you had ever seen. his fingers closed around the dog tags that you had worn to draw him back- that you kept always, as a reminder of who he was. and who he could be again…
“yes.” dex forced it out between kisses that turned into bites along your neck, as his hand slid down your ribs and grabbed your thigh like he was using it to keep from drowning. he loved you. his very universe rotated around you and of course he would make you a promise. he could keep that promise.
he could stay. for you…
he would stay.
for you.
a month had passed and you were never granted another phone call. matt had updated you on dex— as much as he knew— but started worrying about your mental state. because you were happy. the baby had started to show and where there had been anger, resentment and desperation, there was a peace and excitement.
matt visited almost daily— sometimes in disguise, other times only as daredevil— but a small part of him wondered if this was the new future. a restored relationship, a good, happy future for his sister…
until one visitor changed all of it.
you had stopped breathing when you noticed it was not your usual nurse. immediately, you knew something wasn’t right. you tensed, hands at your side ready to fight, as if the extra size and weight of your belly would be any sort of help—
“good evening, miss murdock— ah, mrs. poindexter. apologies… are you ready for your exam?”
“i’m— yes.”
why was there a man here? you knew his face. you knew— a badge flashed under his jacket and your heart rate leapt. task force. they had finally come for you… what about dex— was he…
no.
you had to worry about yourself. you had to get out of here… to survive—
they wouldn’t kill you. surely not with a baby…
you wanted to scream for matt- surely he would be here any minute. he always came at six pm on tuesdays—
“relax, mrs. poindexter… you’re not in any kind of danger. in fact, someone just wants to talk to you.”
if it was fisk you would kill him yourself.
if it was dex—
you stopped as the door opened. your feet were planted and you were shoved forward so hard you nearly tumbled into the desk and hit your chin. you didn’t bother cursing. you didn’t show a flicker of pain or discomfort. you stared straight ahead. eyes burning into the woman in front of you.
it was not the mayor.
it was not even your therapist—
it was the woman to blame for all of this. for everything…
vanessa fisk.
you stumbled forward with your hand already around the task force’s neck, squeezing and pulling until you heard a crack. the man slumped down, unconscious, as blood soaked your sleeves from his nose. others rushed forward but vanessa raised her hand. she was smiling. as if amused and impressed by your kill.
“impressive, mrs poindexter… truly. especially being out of practice and in your condition…”
your jaw clenched, teeth gritted together like you were holding back a storm.
“i wanted to congratulate you… and apologize.”
you lifted your eyebrows, fury never leaving your face.
“woman to woman, i’m sure you understand… we must protect that which we hold dear… we don’t have a lot of power. but when we get it, we’d best demonstrate it… yes?”
your eyes trailed her as she crossed the room. you flinched instinctively as she reached you. her hand coiled in your hair, twirling it around gently with a tight smile.
“so beautiful… to bring a child into this world.”
her hand dropped to your stomach and you fought a wave of nausea. alarm bells sounded in your head but you just watched her. coiled, tense, ready to strike. you knew you wouldn’t leave the room if you touched her. for the sake of your baby, you didn’t move.
“i’m sorry about benjamin.”
you wanted to tear her head off just for saying his name.
“things were supposed to be different, you see. daredevil wasn’t supposed to be there. he wasn’t supposed to be caught… he could be free and you could be raising your baby in peace… off the radar, name cleared…”
your heart raced, fighting against every instinct that was telling you to run or fight.
“that is why he’s getting out. i let him go… special request, you see. but the problem…is..” her eyes dropped to your swollen stomach and you stepped back, “he isn’t done yet… he isn’t supposed to be happy yet..”
“what are you—“
“so i need you to do something for me.”
you stepped back again, but a solid chest and the arms of a task force agent stopped you, “i need you to never tell him about this…”
“why would—“
her hand moved before you could. a sharp blade into your stomach, long enough to go all the way through you. deep enough to be fatal.
“i apologized.” her voice shook as she tilted the knife just enough to drop you to your knees, “i really am so sorry…” she jerked down, the knife cutting a jagged line down towards your pelvis.
you fought to take a breath, trying to gasp but finding no air. you collapsed on your hands and knees, gasping, watching your own blood pool around your hands. you reached for your stomach— trying to hold it together, keep it in one piece. you stumbled, trying to stand but throwing up instead.
blood covered the floor, your arms shook and failed to hold you up. the door closed behind you and you tried to scream. you tried to stand up. to go after her. to kill her—
you threw up again, the act causing a wave of pain all throughout you. your head spun, your vision darkened. you crawled against the wall, pulling yourself up with the little strength you had left. you glanced down, barely able to cry out at the mess that was your stomach.
