#and dex is taking his shot

[chevvy-ryder]

[NC_RES]-31102049-EUR-GER scharfenberg_g_portraits_033_CC_GBM.file ///core:_ryder_von_scharfenberg.file\\\

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⚠️ READ: Please do not repost/reupload any of my art here or to any other platform, or I will be forced to do anything to get it annihilated.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation

Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!

“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room. 

Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”

“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”  

“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”

“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him. 

“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team. 

“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–” 

“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.” 

“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”

“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”

Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend. 

“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day. 

“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could. 

“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”

“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”

“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”

“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”

“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”

Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced. 

“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck. 

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off. 

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that. 

The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night. 

“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”

He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail. 

Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter. 

“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.” 

Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him. 

“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down. 

His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.” 

“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said. 

You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”

“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”

Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”

“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly. 

Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”

“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you. 

“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend. 

“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation. 

Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play. 

To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck. 

He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead. 

Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his.  He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out. 

“Hi baby, there you are!”  

Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised. 

Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him. 

In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”

Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you. 

Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side. 

You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied.  He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along. 

Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.  

“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly. 

“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.  

Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over.  Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding. 

The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.  

You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there. 

You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.  

“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look. 

You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached. 

“Shit– yes.”

“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot. 

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together. 

“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening. 

“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist. 

“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.” 

“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes. 

“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.  

“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating. 

But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”

“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger. 

There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off. 

“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off. 

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.  

That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily. 

“What a creep,” one of them said. 

“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon. 

“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.” 

The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well. 

“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod. 

“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”

You shivered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.  

“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances.  You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”  

Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.  

“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them. 

“She was into you, Tyler.”

He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing. 

Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.” 

Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled. 

“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said. 

“And do what?” Tyler asked. 

Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”

Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.  

Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.  

He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.  

“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.  

“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was. 

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…” 

Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger. 

But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”

Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out. 

Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”

Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”

With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand. 

“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly. 

[chufflepop]

The winners garden

This was inspired by my emerald rogue run (the old one), with my pidgeot whom I have named Victory after the run ended (or caught a pidgey in the safari and pretended it was her)

This'll be long because it affected me that much. I didn't expect to win this run- I thought I was a goner after Wallace. I swear this run felt like a movie sequence because my god it felt so climactic (to me)

Victory was a random pidgey I caught at before the first or second gym, and I was originally going to trade her off but I just felt like I lacked flying types. Eventually, I thought she was actually a really valuable member and kept her in. It also helped alot that the pidgeotite appeared the next time I got into the battle stop store, so it felt right keeping her around-

My team had a latios, thunderus, sylveon (who died but I managed to get him back because of the random lab encounter, thank god it was just a species curse), serperior, dracovish and mega pidgeot. Pidgeot with hurricane spam is so good I kept her around even more

It was a really solid team until I accidentally stumbled into a trainer battle while getting an item, and due to an unlucky crit, my latios goes down

At this point, I got mad because "AH, MY BEST TEAM MEMBER". He had a choice specs on and his job was to spam, but unfortunately, his psychic didn't kill the mega kanghaskan we encountered. It was unfortunate, I didn't level up because I thought I could avoid the trainer, but oh well

Caught a random alolan ninetales that did good aurora veil blizzard (after buying an ability patch) and I thought she'd be fine and for awhile, it was

Until I reached the champion. Wallace killed 3 of my team members, down went my serperior, my newly caught alolan ninetales, and my dracovish. And there was also an unskippable trainer when I moved on to the next route which killed my sylveon, leaving me with only my thunderus and my dear pidgeot

Remember the species clause I said earlier? That thing screwed me over when it only had 3 available pokemon (and worse, it was a water route so the surf point also had staryu, maybe I was just impatient and maybe another mon is in the surf point idk). I caught a starmie, a toxapex and a jellicent in that route. With the species clause active, I was handicapped to fight the REAL champion. I only had 5 pokemon instead of 6

The last poke stop. The trader was there, so I took a gamble with him and traded my starmie. And what came out of it felt right- It was a victini. At this point, I was giggling to myself like "I might win" because of victinis dex entry and such, about how it being with you is basically a guaranteed victory.

After I prepared my team to the best that I could and with some small confidence growing, I pressed on.

At this point, I only remember the pidgeot battle so I'm just trying to remember here and I'm probably wrong in some details

Red was the final champion and my victini took the lead. Victini died first, he was scarfed and spammed bolt strike until he MISSED. But it was still good enough, it was now a fair 4v4. Jellicent didn't have much, but he had will o wisp, which helped alot. He wasn't trained as well as the others so he was frailer than he was supposed to be, but he weakened one pokemon enough for thunderbolt range and died. 3v4 now

Thunderus tbolt, he goes down. Thunderus had a z crystal and it one shotted I forgot who immediately after.

It's now a 2v2

Terrakion. Easy enough for toxapex to take down (and spam recover)

2v1

Final pokemon was a giratina. Shadow force. Didnt want to switch out because tox was in good health and I wanted to knock off, but it critted and tox was lower than anticipated. Knock off did alright damage and I was sure it was a clear 2 hit ko if pidgeot lived. One outrage and tox was down

1v1.

My pidgeot, the pidgeot who's been with me since the start, the pidegot that I was going to trade away, the pidgeot that I doubted. From a little helpless pidgey to now facing Satan head on

She megas and hits her first hurricane but it doesn't kill and an outrage hits her and SHE BARELY LIVED. SHE WAS CLINGING FOR HER LIFE. AND THERE I KNEW, I KNEW I WON. ONE LAST HURRICANE AND DOWN GOES GIRATINA, AND MY SOLE SURVIVOR WON ME EVERYTHING!

IT FELT SO PERFECT. THE SPECIES CLAUSE, THE VICTINI, THE TOXAPEX, THE STRESS I BUILT, THE IMPORTANT POKEMON DYING JUST BEFORE RED, THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP TAKING DOWN POKEMON SATAN, IT DIDN'T LOOK LIKE MUCH VISUALLY AND SOME PEOPLE WOULD PROBABLY THINK IT'S CHILDISH, BUT I IMAGINED MY PIDGEOT ABSOLUTELY LOOKING COOL AND GOING HAM ON THAT FINAL BATTLE. THE FINAL BATTLE WAS COOL IN MY HEAD OKAY

After we won, I caught a female pidgey on the safari zone and named her Victory. It's the same pidgeot now pidgey that in my heart. And that's literally why I made this drawing. And also I significantly love pidgeot more now. I would also make an essay about my thought process when making this, but I think this tumblr blog is long enough (it was so corny ngl). Too bad I can’t bring her over but the newer game is fun too

I'm sorry this was long guys, I enjoyed talking about this way too much ahshsh

[angellicxx]

Steady - Benjamin “Dex” Poindexter x Rookie FBI Reader

summary: As a new FBI agent, you’re paired with Dex for your first mission manning a sniper’s nest. Your aversion for each other has you both struggling with staying on objective and following the rules.

warnings: Gun, unprotected sex, smut, semi-public sex, bruises, scratching, strong pull out game

a/n: first smut let's goooo

w.c: 3,400

You were new to the unit.

A fresh graduate from Quantico, you proudly wore your badge of Special Agent for the FBI with a smile. The other agents had been welcoming and kind; throwing out tips about the rugged New York streets, helping with the overwhelming paperwork— and even assigning a more experienced agent to show the ropes and keep a watchful eye on you.

Agent Benjamin Poindexter.

Even the name gave you chills.

When his dark eyes glared at you for the first time, greeting you with a raspy voice and that smug smirk, you knew it was going to be rough.

Unlike the other agents, Dex wasn’t that enthusiastic on helping a rookie.

Cocky and independent, you could tell he hated you.

It ruined his order of things.

He would always send you down to fetch his coffee or do some other chore he couldn’t be bothered with, anything to get you away from him. Yet whenever you weren’t next to him, obediently waiting and ready for the next task, you could feel his piercing gaze from a far, just in time to see him quickly look away when your eye caught his.

You could really feel his stare when he was assigned to man the sniper position with you.

One of your first ever real missions; keeping watch during a high profile event where some underground crime network might attend, of course you were thrilled— until you found out you were going to be stuck with Dex all night.

The job was easy, if things went south while the other agents were in the building, the sniper would take out the problem from an isolated distance.

The kind superior he was, Dex of course gave you the honor of being the sniper—which was really just lookout and a punishment for ruining his night. The bright streets of Midtown were alive with distant sirens and pedestrian chatter echoing off the buildings. Too bad you had to enjoy it on a cold rooftop lying stomach down on the ground next to the one guy who hated you the most.

Six feet of Dex was towering next to you, completely engulfed in his work and eyes rarely leaving the building through his telescope. Your bones had began to ache— your hips had been digging into the floor for the past hour and your arms were tired from gripping the rifle, which was positioned on a tripod at the edge of the roof. You were becoming dizzy from the height, multiple stories and the cold concrete being the only thing separating you from falling whenever the wind shifted.

It was late, but you didn’t know how long this event was going to last and if things were going to even get exciting. As far as you knew, you would be stuck like this next to Dex until dawn.

After a while of staring at the windows and entrance, you began scanning the New York skyline, trying to name as many familiar buildings as possible.

Just when you were adjusting the sights to see the Brooklyn Bridge, a rasped voice pierced the silence.

“Do you even know how to handle that thing?”

You pulled back, looking up to see Dex had lowered his telescope and was now watching you.

“If you didn’t know if I could handle it, why give me the gun?”

He only shook his head. “Stop messing with it, its not a toy from your training.”

“I’m not.”

Your objection was no use. You could see that smug look in his eye through the dark, peering down at you like an ant near his boot.

“Then take a practice shot, rookie.”

A nervous feeling formed in your gut at the future criticism that was bound to happen.

“We’re not authorized to fire unless its for approved force.”

Dex was almost surprised at your defiance. “I’m your superior, you can do what I say or leave. There’s not going to be any action anyways.” He sighed, putting the telescope back in the sniper case, crossing his arms over his chest with a patronizing smirk. “Now c’mon, lets see if you’re really the hot shot you think you are.”

You swallowed your pride for a moment, looking back into the scope and gripping the gun steady. You brought the sights back to the area, scanning the nearby rooftops for a target to hit.

There was a low groan of annoyance when Dex landed on his knees next to you. He took one close look at your form and position and scoffed.

“Lower.”

You rolled your eyes, shuffling your hip against the hard floor. “I can see.”

“No-” A rough hand pushed your shoulders, knocking your chest to the ground and nearly your jaw. “Here.”

You gritted your teeth to stifle the whimper at the hit to your ribs. “I got it.” You managed to hiss, nudging your shoulder to get his hand off of you.

“No, you don’t.”

Before you could fit another snide remark in, arms wrapped you— caging you to the ground and gun.

His broad forearms were on the concrete floor on both sides of you, biceps flexed and brushing against your numbing arms. Dex’s chest was hovering just above your flexed back, shifting his weight to draw closer to the scope.

His head loomed over your shoulder for his eye to reach down the sight, so close you could feel his breath on your cheek— hot and raspy. His knees were anchored to the ground next to you, the holsters and buckles of his belt dug into the side of your leg, your hip brushing his waist.

He felt close.

Way too close.

You were now pushed nearly face forward into the ground, your superior almost completely on top of you and so close you couldn’t tell if it was his heartbeat you were hearing or just the blood thundering in your ears.

You had no choice but to try and slow down your breathing and not make a noise every time you felt him touch you. You kept your eye through the lens, not even realizing his hands were reaching for yours until you felt them wrapped over the sides of the weapon.

Dex moved the gun around on the ground, just enough to find the new target as you laid there in a daze.

“Right there,” he whispered. “You see that billboard?”

You could only manage a small nod as you felt your breath catch in your throat. The large billboard was on the building parallel from you across the street, featuring a model posing in the newest collection of a fashion designer; big blue eyes peering at you through the dark night, sparsely illuminated by the bright lights on the street level.

“I want you to hit the eye, got it? Right in the middle.”

His hand brushed against yours as he reached the scope, adjusting the ring until it was in perfect focus for the distance and looking right into the model’s pupil. Rough skin cradled your own as he gently moved your loosened grip around until he decided it was right.

“Deep breath,” His right hand disappeared from your own as it reached back, gently resting on your back below the end of your vest.

The vision in the scope seemed to blur and fade away for a moment as he brushed it lower, sending a shiver straight through your body from the contact. You obeyed, stirring the night air into your nervous lungs as his hand pressed deeper into you the more you inhaled.

“Just like that.”

He assured, yet it sounded more like a growl than a whisper.

His index finger lightly applied pressure over your own, pressing on the trigger. You breathed in tandem with him, your back brushing against his tense chest as the heat between your bodies overwhelmed you more than the cold air ever did.

He let out a deep exhale against you, pushing your finger down as your body jolted against his, a shot ringing out into the night and piercing the eye perfectly in the middle.

You could finally breathe again when the sound of the shell clattered to the ground and snapped you from the trance, a sheepish smile formed on your face as you admired the perfect hit.

You pulled your eye from the scope and looked over your shoulder to suddenly become face to face with Dex.

His jaw clenched, a flicker of something raw flashing behind his eyes. The grip on your hand tightened, just slightly, like he was holding onto restraint by a thread.

A soft gaze— his dark eyes glinting with the reflections of city lights. It was out of character seeing Dex look at you like that.

He must’ve realized he was staring at your lips— his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, “Good.”

The praise lingered in your ear, whistling in the wind and reverberating in your mind.

His lips hovered inches from yours. You could feel his breath ghosting against your skin, every inhale shared in that narrow space. His eyes searched yours like he was trying to find a reason not to do it, trying to remember what lines he wasn’t supposed to cross.

But then his hand slid further down your back—deliberate, grounding, possessive.

He hated that he was stuck with you.

He hated that he was always partnered with you. He hated that he couldn’t get your body out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

He hated every single second he was near you. And he hated that he couldn’t stop himself.

Your lips brushed.

A mistake.

You gasped softly, and that was all it took—Dex’s mouth crashed into yours like he’d been starving for it, rough and hungry and angry at himself for wanting it this badly.

His hand gripped the side of your neck, tilting your jaw up and holding you like he was afraid you’d pull away, the other still pressed firmly into your back, anchoring you in place— slowly skimming lower down the curve of your spine and over your hip.

Your breath hitched and his smirk pressed into your lips.

You kissed him back just as desperately, your teeth grazed his lip— you weren’t sure if it was punishment or need—but it made him moan against you, breath hitching as he pushed you further into the rooftop floor.

A hand hooked under you, flipping you to your back and pulling you by your hips away from the edge and the gun as you struggled to regain your lost breath. Dex loomed on top of you, straddling your body with his knees on each side of your legs.

His belt clinked as he shifted above you, his weight pressing into you harshly. One hand slid up your shirt—calloused fingertips exploring every line and curve like he had to memorize, methodical and precise , just like how he handled the gun.

You moaned into his reconnecting kiss, your hands clutching into his hair.

Your conscious returned for a moment and you managed to breath out a plead.

“Dex—the mission-”

“Fuck the mission.”

He practically ripped your vest off from the sides in one brute stroke, tossing it the dusted concrete next to you.

He leaned back just enough to rip the rest of your shirt over your head, his eyes dragging over your body like you were something he couldn’t believe he’d kept his hands off this long. There was something frantic in the way he moved now—like weeks of tension had finally cracked open all at once.

His eyes stayed on you as he shrugged off his vest, tossing it next to yours and pulling his shirt off in one brisk motion. The warmth of his chest hit yours, your fingers digging down his neck to his back, pulling him against you.

A deep groan escaped him as he dropped his head to your neck, gently biting your sensitive skin as his arms hooked under your back, lifting you from the cold concrete to unclasp your bra.

A trail of heat led from your collarbones to your breasts as Dex kissed your exposed skin, fingers caressing over your peaking nipples and gripping your ribs as he trailed down your torso.

You were breathless and flushed, looking down to see Dex’s arms flexing as he manhandled you to lift your hips, tearing off your pants as you kicked off your boots in desperation.

The cold night air brushed at your bare legs, but it was nothing compared to the burn his mouth left as he trailed kisses along your jaw, down the slope of your neck, teeth grazing just enough to make your pulse stutter.

Your back arched off the concrete as his hands dragged down your thighs, rough palms searing into your skin with every possessive touch as he reunited his lips to yours.

This wasn’t the same Dex from a moment ago, complete control and smooth precision—this was chaos breaking through, hungry and shaking as he grappled your body with a wet mouth and trembling hands.

You whimpered as his belt dug into the thin fabric of your panties, sending a sensitive throb in between your legs.

“Dex-” You breathed out as his hands gripped your thighs. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Shut up.” He growled, spreading them wider as he pressed his hips against yours. “They’ll call if they need us. Right now, I need this.”

He looked down at you from half lidded eyes as his fingers hooked under your waistband, dragging them down as your bare legs moved to cling to his hips.

Dex grunted as he leaned back on his knees, towering over your vulnerable form as his fingers undid his belt— never breaking eye contact as he freed his straining cock, stroking the pre-cum over bulging veins.

In one swift, harsh motion he pinned your hip in place and thrusted inside of you, stealing the air from your lungs as you managed a breathless whimper, fingers digging into his tense shoulders to stabilize the blinding pressure that pierced your body. Dex began a rhythmic pace, digging deeper into you with each movement, grinding you into the ground as the silent rooftop filled with the raw noise of your bodies slamming together.

“Oh, fuck—” Your hand reached for his stomach, nails trailing down firm abs to his v-line as you clutched at his skin, palm pressing into his tense muscle.

His outstretched arm holding him up from the ground next to you buckled for a second, breath catching in his throat as he hovered closer over you.

Dex brought his mouth to yours, your moans mixing together with a sloppy kiss.

You were ruining each other, abandoning all sense of the mission to fuck each other senseless, the rooftop dissipating as his body slammed against yours. Your muscles strained to keep up with his movements, hips bucking and back arching.

His mouth bit into your neck, sucking at your pulse and hand pushing into your hip so hard you knew it would be a black bruise by morning. He was fast, desperately driving deeper to reach both your climax’s before you were caught. The anticipation was driving you mindless, resisting the impulse to let your eyes fall back by keeping them locked on Dex.

Your moans were erratic, high pitched and needy as tension in your body became overwhelming against the friction. You whimpered incoherently as your fingers clung into his shoulder, a plead to continue. He grunted as your nails dug into his skin, obeying with a sharper thrust.

You cried out as the orgasm shook through you, your hold on Dex being the only thing keeping you grounded. He groaned with his last thrusts, trembling as your pulse around his dick sending him over the edge.

Dex tore himself away, spilling hot cum over your belly and dripping down your thighs as you both struggled to catch your breath in the cold night air. Hot pants rippled through the quiet, your chests heaving as you gasped for air. Dex collapsed back onto his knees, muscles twitching and abs trembling with rapid breaths and covered with red welts left from your nails.

Your eyes locked in the dark, staring at each other in awe as you resisted regret. You swallowed, remnants of his spit trickling down your throat as his hand flinched close to your skin.

“Poindexter.”

The static of the comms tore through the silence. “We’ve got movement.”

Dex didn’t move, breath rasping as he looked down at you.

“Dex, do you copy?”

The sudden wave of shame and cold air rippled over you as Dex pulled away, harsh reality pulling you from your lust induced trance.

He switched into sniper mode in an instant, like a trained command and subconscious pull of routine. All distractions of the mission fell away.

He would curse himself for abandoning procedure, for falling through and giving in— to you.

As you breathlessly stared at the dark sky, Dex was already at the edge of the roof, pants zipped and in position, one knee down cradling the gun in his arms— eye trained down at the street.

“Suspect exiting through west side.”

He was back in his domain, grip steady— the same tight force around the gun like he’d used on you.

But metal doesn’t bruise.

He gripped it harder, forcing it down as he breathed out. A sharp roar of the gun rippled in the night. Dex jolted with the weapon, the end jabbing into his tight uncovered shoulder, red marks decorating the skin.

A yelp pierced the air from below, a man screaming echoing across the street as sirens lit up.

After a few seconds the comms crackled back on. “Nice shot, Dex. We got him.”

He lingered with the rifle, his bare back glistened with sweat in the faint light, flexed muscle trailing from his shoulders to his biceps as he moved with rapid breaths.

A finger trembled over the trigger— like it was taking everything in him to resist the urge to plunge the next shot through the bastard’s skull for so selfishly interrupting your moment.

He had to follow orders. Keep the suspect alive.

Not like he was good at following them— not when a second body laid breathlessly naked behind him.

Finally, he pulled himself from the gun, keeping his eye on the scene below, refusing to look back at you. With practiced ease he dismantled the rifle, stowing it back in the case as he retrieved his shirt and vest like nothing had ever interrupted the job.

You managed to tug your clothes back on, wincing as the fabric clung to skin smeared with cum and dirt, every movement a sharp reminder of what had just happened.

“Transporting suspect to Mass General—shot obliterated his kneecap. Recon at lobby.” The comms buzzed and clicked off.

As you clipped your vest into place, Dex loomed over you—one hand gripping the case handle, the other securing his belt with a harsh tug.

Without warning, he grabbed the strap of your vest, hauling you up with one arm until your toes barely scraped the ground.

His face lingered inches from yours, looking down at you. “You don’t tell anyone about this, got it?” He rasped, low and cold. “Not a fucking word.”

You nodded fast, breath caught in your throat before you could mutter a promise.

Then, without warning, he kissed you—sloppy and raw, more claim than affection. He pulled back just enough to flash that crooked grin.

“Good girl.”

He let you go, sending your half tied boots staggering for a grip on the floor as he brushed past you. You looked back at the empty roof, red and blue lights cascading through the dark from below, revealing the emptiness— proof nothing had ever happened.

The only evidence left now marked both of your bodies in reddening lines and darkening bruises.

You followed Dex down with a lowered head, praying he wouldn’t turn around and see your creeping blush and smile.

[takenbypeter]

Shoot Your Shot

Benjamin Poindexter x reader

Words: 530

Dex wanted to protect you. If it were up to him he’d be by your side twenty four seven just so he knew you were okay and happy. But, it wasn’t up to him. He had a job and you had a job, it just wasn’t physically possible. 

Thus came his great idea. Taking you to the gun range. 

While you initially weren’t fully on board with the whole idea of shooting a gun, he raised some good points about protection that you definitely did agree with. 

But now standing in here across from the target you were starting to get second thoughts again. 

“You got it?” Dex asked, his question bringing you back down to earth. He had just explained and showed all the logistics of how to handle the weapon but honestly it all went in one ear and out the other. 

You’ve never held a gun before and while you knew this was the best place to do it, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach flip flop.

You looked at the weapon questioningly then looked back at him before ultimately shaking your head, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He pulled the gun back towards his body. 

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

It was stupid really. Feeling sick. It wasn’t even that serious right? You were just learning, for the “just in case” scenario, yet something in you just felt bad about it. You knew you must’ve looked dumb to Dex for being such a chicken especially considering the fact that he did this all the time for work. 

And while you stood there thinking about how idiotic you looked, Dex stood there thinking about how precious you looked. Of course you didn’t want to shoot anybody he knew it would be hard for you but he also knew there could come a time when you had to. 

So while he didn’t want to pressure you, he knew it would benefit you in the end. 

“Do you want me to help you?”

The question was sincere without any sense of patronization behind in it. Finding his offer helpful you nod prompting him to put his noise reduction ear muffs back on, while you followed his actions. 

Once on, he positions you towards the target and takes his place behind you.

You feel the gun and his hand brush your dominant hand and you take hold of the gun that he passes to you. 

With him now holding your hand that’s grasping the weapon he takes a step closer. His body presses against your back while his arms lift yours until they’re clasped out in front. 

While it’s a bit hard to focus with the gun in front of you and him behind you, you try your best to pay attention to his hands which take over yours. 

Together, you take a couple shots, and after the initial surprise you start to get the hang of it. 

Eventually Dex lets go, allowing you to take a couple of shots by yourself as he proudly steps back and observes. 

Despite your initial fear he had a feeling you were going to be alright.

[zev-zev]

i will truly never get over just how beautiful silverv is written. like getting to see “the johnny silverhand” in action, catching glimpses of a man who’s just…well let’s be honest, not a good man. he treats alt like shit, treats rouge like shit, and treats kerry and the rest of his band pretty much like shit too. he left kerry without so much as a goodbye—all just to go on an arasaka bombing run. we see him literally pick alt over rouge and then turn around to beg rouge for her help in saving alt.

like of course johnny is an unreliable narrator and you can’t really take his word on everything but— i think some truth lies within. and i think we get to see it as he genuinely changes because of v.

and yeah you could argue that it’s just the construct and yada yada but the construct was created with the data of rocker-boy johnny silverhand on it. it’s data of his angry, former self right after blowing up arasaka. it’s his personality from when he was in the war— data literally created with him wrapped all up in a bundle of rage…so why does he change? he didn’t change for kerry. didn’t change for rouge and never got the chance to change for alt. i mean sure the relic’s data could be written to adapt and evolve, and i don’t know if it did evolve or if it could, i’m not sure but still. i genuinely just think v is the one who changes johnny. johnny’s engram is supposed to completely take over v, and while it clearly does throughout the game(and ofc this is all a special circumstance bc the relic’s data believes v was dead before it started taking over their psyche etc etc), it wasn’t supposed to be the other way around. and v doesn’t take control of the relic or anything, i know, i mean it in a way that instead of johnny’s relic outright taking over, v somehow changed johnny’s data as it ate away at v themselves. the instructions for the relic were clear and yet…when we, the player, meet johnny, he was very much that asshole from his former glory days come back to life again— where he literally threatens to kill v and just take the body…multiple times…but by the time v and johnny find his unmarked grave, johnny has changed.

he, in the softest tone we’ve heard from johnny up until this point, tells v that they’re the closest person to him by a long shot. how he’s always been such an asshole and used every person in his life for his own selfish needs but it’s v that ends up being the only one who gives a shit about him. and now he truly desires to be the person to save v, even as the relic is in the process of actively killing v against their will. he was so upset about the thought of fucking up what v and he had, and when you point it out that he almost did fuck that up? he’s scared of losing v. asks for a second chance, begs v to let him make things right! for the both of them. definitely something the old johnny would have NEVER done. (not to mention the ost during this scene? god, how hauntingly beautiful it is. also it gives off this vibe of how truly lonely johnny is and would be w/o v.)

and then there’s v. sitting on some rusty-dusty piece of metal, carving johnny’s initials into said metal just to leave something behind of him, whether he was buried there or not; v still made it apparent that they cared for johnny. and proving it even further when johnny asks what they would really write, if he had a proper burial and headstone. and without hesitation v tells him, after everything they’ve been through— the hurt, the venom laced words, wanting each other dead—“the guy who saved my life.”. and you could argue that v just means the relic saving them from the bullet dex dishes into their head but i truly think it’s so much deeper than that. after everything? johnny lying? cursing v’s every waking second? using v for his own selfishness—his old self—and v still picks the moment johnny literally saved their life? like v could have very easily instead made a joke about the situation. or tell johnny they’d write something harmful or meaningless on his grave to get back at johnny for all the shit he’s put them through but no! with their own soft voice, they tell johnny the one good thing he’s done in his “life”, sitting atop his “grave”, is that he saved them.

idk i have so many silverv thoughts because they’re written plain as day as soulmates. like platonic, romantic or whatever, they’re soulmates— literally meant to be. if it had been anyone else’s head, johnny might not have become someone “different” from his former self. and v would still have their life, sure, but even then they changed too; changing from wanting johnny dead to panicking at the thought of johnny not being there with them?

UGHHHH. they give me the biggest brain-worms. i love silverv so much.

[cbartonscoffee]

I love how much the simple movement of Vanessa taking Dex's pills out of his reach does to show us exactly what's happening in the whole scene. His hands trembling uncontrollably, blindly reaching for his medicine. Her hand, sure and stable, unwavering as it takes his shot at redemption/penance away from him.

[finalgirlesque]

cannot get over the way matt is just fully off the rails. stalking around new york seething with barely suppressed rage. emotionally neglecting his girlfriend who just shot a man. playing the idiot showing up 30 minutes late to his own law firm with a black eye, crashing out on a client, refusing to tell his partner anything. making cherry chase him all over the city. grabbing dex by the hair and mockingly calling him sweetheart and then beating his head in. forgetting he's not supposed to act like daredevil when he's dressed like a lawyer. thinking about foggy constantly, incessantly, every waking second but refusing to ask anyone for help. crashing fisk's ball and standing there like >8[ before stealing his wife for a dance. all that and THEN he takes a bullet for the man he hates more than anyone else in the world. matt murdock the absolute nutbar you are

[lambse7en]

Coffee Chance

(established Benjamin Pointdexter x Reader relationship)

summary: Dex is kinda desperate to make you the perfect coffee.

warnings: no big warnings? jealousy? this is just kinda goofy fluff, dex is social awkward (he’s trying his best) and he doesn’t drink coffee in this (not even decaf i guess) and he is also obsessive about the damn coffee. yall work together. >short< one shot.

language: english

!link to ao3!

notes: I refer to him as Dex this time fam✊ (still think he would allow reader to call him Ben if he trusted them enough). i’m almost sure i wrote reader as gender neutral. anadaonetanku :)

─━━━━━━⊱ 𖦹 ⊰━━━━━━─

You sip the coffee he made and grimace.

Dex tilts his head at you from across the room, clearly waiting for a reaction. You give it to him, maybe too straight forward. - “This tastes like burnt soil and wet cardboard.”

He frowns at you. - “I watched you make it…last week.”

You lean back in your chair, smug. - “Yeah, and apparently you watched it all wrong.”

He looks at the cup like it insulted him personally. Which, knowing him, it kind of did. Because he measured everything. He remembered the brand of the beans. The mug you most likely use. He rewound the memory of you making it like a tape in his head, slowed it down, frame by frame. You stirred twice, maybe three times. The spoon clinked. You smiled when you tasted it.

So how the fuck did he get it wrong?

“You want me to throw it at someone?” - He says flatly, upset about his own failure.

You laugh at that. - “Tempting, but no. Thanks for trying, though. You get an A for effort.”

He doesn’t answer. Just stares a second longer, then walks off, too calm and too quiet for your liking. A fucking A for effort? No. He has to do it right, it just can’t be right now because you probably won’t want another coffee.

Ten minutes later, a coworker you spoke with about coffee on one of your jobs this month drops a fresh cup on your desk with a grin.

“Tried that thing you said, two sugars, tiny bit of cinnamon, just a splash of milk?”

Well, you just had a coffee. But you can’t really refuse it, not when he took the time to do something that isn’t his duty. You take a sip.

Your eyes light up. - “What the hell? Wow. This is exactly right. That’s crazy.”

You pause and look at his coffee, then think of something more to say.

“How did you get it right so quickly?”

He smiles like he just won something. - “I love coffee, just that.”

Dex is at the door before either of you notices.

“Didn’t realize this was a barista contest.” - He says rather coldly. - “Want me to fetch an apron, too?”

You look at him kinda questioning what he was trying to do here. The joke didn’t land as naturally as he expected it would.

Your coworker laughs nervously. - “Hey, man, just trynna help, K?”

Dex doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are locked on you.

You shoot your colleague a look, and he wisely backs off your room.

When it’s just you and Dex again, you raise an eyebrow.

“Jealous of the coffee now?”

He steps in closer. Close enough that you have to tilt your head further to hold his stare.

“Kinda jealous of anyone who gets to hear you say ‘wow’ like that.”

After a while, he murmurs. - “Next time, I’ll get it right.”

You blink slowly at him. - “Dex, it was just coffee.”

You say it like it should settle something.

Like it should make his shoulders drop, his jaw unclench, his eyes stop burning holes into the side of your desk.

But it doesn’t.

He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move.

Then, softly, too softly, he says. - “It wasn’t.”

There’s a pause. Long enough that you shift in your chair, just to do something with your hands.

He steps closer. Not looming, not threatening.

“I watched you make it several times. I wrote it down after the second. I replayed the sound of your teaspoon tapping the rim. I even bought the cinnamon you use. You think it was just coffee??” - His voice is low, but his words are tight. Controlled. - “I don’t get things wrong.”

You swallow, throat suddenly dry.

“Okay, I’m aware of that.” - You say, quietly. - “But it’s not a big deal. I didn’t mean anything by it–“

“But I did.”

That freezes you.

He exhales slowly, hand flexing at his side.

“I wanted to get it right for you… I don’t care how people take their coffee. I don’t even drink the shit.”

There’s a long silence between you. You glance down at the cups on your desk. The truth is that you knew he was going to overthink it. He’s not mad that you liked the dude’s coffee. He’s mad because in his mind, he already decided that you deserve perfection and that he was going to be the one to give it to you. And somehow, today, a cup of bad coffee felt like a betrayal.

He’s still watching you like you just broke something in him. The coffee thing really got to him.

You sigh. Shake your head. Then say honestly.

“I lied.”

His jaw tightens. - “What?”

“To him.” - You clarify, moving your gaze towards the full cup on your desk. - “I just told him the coffee was good so he’d never try to bring me more again.”

Dex blinks once. Processing.

You lean back in your chair and look up at him, a little smug.

“At least I give you chances.”

Then you laugh. Quiet, a little sharp. Like it’s a joke, but not completely.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares. Hard. He’s trying to understand the second meaning of your words. Yeah, it was a joke…So he laughs, imitating you. But what you really meant was…that you won’t push him away, that’s he’s different and that he can try again?

His mouth twitches like he’s about to speak then he doesn’t, just smiles and nods once, sharp. Almost to himself.

“Okay.”

He suddenly walks off, probably already in his own world, you guess.

You hear him muttering something under his breath as he disappears down the hall.

“Okay. Okay. Fine. Watch me.”

[aceofwhump]

Do you have some Neal Caffrey fic recs?

Oh my god so many, nonny. So many. There's 76 fics on my masterlist doc if you want to check that out but I'll add a few of my absolute favorite ones on here. Here ya go:

The Weather Outside Is Frightful by OnYourMark Summary: A blizzard traps the White Collar team at Peter and Elizabeth's place. The good news: everyone's safe, warm, and well fed. The bad news? Neal's spiking a fever, and in this weather there's no way he's getting to a hospital...

Blinding White by Raelin Dex Summary: Tag for episode "As You Were". What if Van Horn had been a better shot? What if the dress Whites of Neal's uniform hadn't come out quite so white? Alternate ending fic.

Hanging On by DJDangerLove Summary: An undercover operation ends up going over a ledge, a seven story ledge and Neal's left dangling. One-shot. No Slash.

Distracted When I Spike The Punch by TJ-TeeJay Summary: A migraine, a reception, punch that was spiked. A potentially hazardous combination for some, certainly a dangerous combination for Neal Caffrey. PG-13, Gen.

A Harder Sell by dusty violet Summary: An extended/alternate/perhaps more realistic scene. Spoilers for Hard Sell.

Three Kinds of Hell by TJ-TeeJay Summary: With Peter incapacitated, Neal is assigned a temporary new handler. Running through the city and spending evenings at various hospitals starts taking its toll on Neal. PG-13, Gen.

The Couch by DjDangerLove Summary: "Neal loves Peter and Elizabeth's couch. Sure, it is soft and warm, but that isn't the real reason he finds comfort in it. No, the Burke's couch makes him feel safe and secure." NO SLASH!

Arsenic and Old Lace by IsmayDeVain Summary: Take one teaspoon of crazy, plus two teaspoons of worried Peter, and one giant helping of Neal whump and what do you get? A one shot that will keep you in suspense! Hold on, readers, it's going to be a bumpy ride!

Neal Caffrey's Type of Miracle by RascalFlattsS Summary: “What if she takes a shot at Neal?” AU for Book of Hours. What if things had gone differently at the buy? MAJOR SPOILERS! You’ve been warned. Neal/Peter friendship. No slash.

Blizzard Conditions by stan_of_many Summary: “Diana looked over at the CI who sat shivering in the chair, cheeks flushed with fever yet far too pale everywhere else. “He really doesn’t look good.” Neal didn’t even take mock offense but began coughing—hard. Peter made an aborted gesture toward him, clearly unsure what to do. He looked over at Diana, hiding a worried expression that the Junior agent knew too well to be fooled...” Even simple illnesses can become dangerous if help isn’t available. The White Collar team gets stuck at the FBI offices during a blizzard and Neal is quickly becoming dangerously ill...

Loaned Away by stan_of_many Summary: “Peter frowned slightly, realizing that Neal hadn’t spoken since Ruiz had practically dragged him in by his collar. Usually he’d be making about five different excuses for why nothing could possibly ever be his fault and cheekily denying every accusation. As it was, he stood silent.” Neal gets loaned to Organized Crime for the day and Peter shows how to really care for a CI when he sees the bruises.

[souliebird]

[[and i will never let you down]]

series: daredevil | pairing: benjamin poindexter x reader

summary: in the same universe as dance of the little swans. dex returns to you after being away for a few hours.

triggers: suicidal ideation & other typical daredevil content tags

No one looks twice at Dex as he strolls into the hotel lobby. 

He blends right in with the elite clientele in his pressed business suit and ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think’ attitude. His eyes sweep the floor with the paranoia and intensity that only comes from years of being in active combat zones, looking for any hint of a threat as he makes a beeline for the elevators. No one stands out - he chose this establishment for a reason - but he does not allow his posture to relax until he is alone in the small, sealed box. 

Only then does Dex take a deep steadying breath. 

He rolls his neck, trying to release some tension, but the familiar and soothing ‘crack’ never comes. It hasn’t come since they coated his spine in metal. While he is grateful - as much as he can be - that his mobility was saved, the deep aches and pains that the surgery left in his back sometimes make him wonder about how hard a normal recovery would have been. 

But he always quickly dismisses those thoughts, because if he had been left to rot in prison - immobile and trapped - he never would have found you. 

His lips tip up into a smile as lets himself slowly slip from Mission Mode into Home Mode. He looks down to the small, delicate boutique bag dangling from his fingers. He hopes the gift is enough to make up for having to leave you alone for a few hours. 

Dex felt like his soul had been ripped to shreds when he had told you of his plan. You had looked so scared and upset at the prospect of being by yourself, but he hadn’t had many options. 

He had never really cared about money before - his veteran status and the FBI had kept him financially stable, and he had no desire for material things - but now he is starting from scratch and keeping you safe and pampered is at the forefront of his mind. Luckily, Dex has a few contacts who don't care who he is as a person - only that he can make the shots no one else can - and those types of shots cost a pretty, untraceable, penny. 

The ding of the elevator shakes him from his thoughts and Dex exits with another steadying breath. His stomach starts to turn, and his heart begins to race in his chest as he makes his way towards your suite.

He doesn’t know what he is going to find on the other side and that terrifies him.

You could be curled up in bed.

You could be gone.

You could be dead. 

He fears the last one the most. He understands more than anyone the call to the Darkness being alone brings. He understands wanting it all to just Stop when life crumbles around you - and oh life has so terribly crumbled around you.

Your Dreams have been ripped from you and relentlessly mocked. 

Your relationship had ended in the worst kind of heartbreak and abandonment. 

You have given up on being Alive, but you have yet to take that final step because Dex has been the one to hold you back.

Despite his initial plans to put a bullet neatly between your eyes, you have wormed your way in between his ribs and he will burn down the city and cull everyone in it if it gets you to smile for even a moment. He will drop to his knees at your command - he will do anything and everything for you without a second thought.

Because you are his. 

You are his to protect. To hold. To care for and comfort. 

You are his to share sweet little laughs with and to watch bad movies with. 

You are his to romance with and dine with. 

You are his to listen to and to hear his words.

You are his.

And he is yours. 

You are so good and kind. 

You know he is a Monster. You know who he has killed and how - you know all about his past with the FBI and Fisk. You know about his anger and how he needs things Perfect and how everyone has left him.

You know Dex is fucked up beyond repair, and yet you cup his jaw and kiss his forehead and thank him for his service. 

Murdock and his little friends are only alive because it is the only thing you have asked of Dex, but if Dex opens the door and you are not there to greet him, all of that will go out the window. He’d neatly explode all of their heads - and yours if you had run away from him - before removing his own. 

But he tries to not think about that, because you have to be okay and waiting for him to return.

You have to be. 

When his feet finally, finally, reach the door, he gives it three, slow, solid knocks - letting you know it is him - before he swipes the keycard with a shaking hand. 

He can’t breathe as enters the room. 

The lights are off in the sitting area, but he doesn’t expect you to be in there. He won’t admit to himself that he hurries towards the bedroom - or that a sigh of relief escapes his lips at the sight of a you-shaped lump under the covers. You are completely hidden under them, but there is a steady rise and fall indicating you are breathing. 

The TV is on across from the bed - one of the network news channels is silently showing breaking coverage of the assassination of the Prime Minister of Madripoor. He lets himself take in the scene for a moment, before picking up the remote and turning off the device. 

He sets your gift on the nightstand closest to him before lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He hesitates before reaching for you - ghosting his fingers over the blanket-barrier. He doesn’t know if you are asleep or awake in your little cove and Dex would hate himself even more if he woke you from the slumber you so desperately need. 

He whispers your name and his heart jumps for joy when you stir. 

A moment later, your head emerges. Your eyes are bloodshot, and it is clear you have been crying, but in that second, you are smiling and look oh so relieved. 

“You came back.”

He mentally Rages at the man who broke you so thoroughly that you would doubt Dex would return to you, but he doesn’t let that show. He clamps it down hard and instead focuses on the beautiful curve of your lips that is all for him. 

“Of course I came back, angel. You are never going to get rid of me.” A promise he’s told you so many times, but he can’t seem to get to stick in your head. 

You sit up, the blankets piling in your lap, and reveal you are once again wearing one of the t-shirts he bought for himself. His body thrums with approval and he moves his hand to cup your cheek. 

“Is it…is it okay?” You ask hesitantly - quietly - as you lean into his touch. Your eyes dart to the blank TV screen before closing and he more than understands what you are asking of him. 

“It is. I’m sorry it took a little longer than I initially planned,” Dex says as he rubs his thumb over your soft skin. “I got you something to make up for it.”

A small amount of light returns to your eyes when you open them to give him a curious look and he internally crows over his success. 

“You got me something?”

Dex reaches back to grab the bag without his other hand leaving your face and presents it to you with what he hopes is a sheepish smile. 

You nuzzle into his palm as you accept his gift, a beautiful soft look overtaking your features. He memorizes it all as you gently push through tissue paper to find your hidden treasure. 

He doesn’t know exactly what the style of top is called - but it certainly borders on some type of lingerie. It is a little sleeping slip that is all lace and sheer fabric - your breast will be fully covered but the rest leaves little to the imagination. There is a slit up the middle, to expose slivers of skin from your sternum down, but it is tasteful. Matching boy-short style panties are included - Dex balked at the idea of offering you a thong or something crotchless. 

You had briefly eyed a similar looking sleeping set when out shopping a few days ago, but the quality hadn’t been up to standard. It had been too lewd - too cheap - to be worthy of you wearing it. 

You are Dex’s angel - his princess - and what he had picked out was what you deserve to lounge around in. 

You apparently agree. Your smile turns blinding and a moment later you are wrapped around his neck, hugging him like he is a lifeline. He hugs you back just as tightly, trying to absorb you into him even if it’s impossible.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you so much, Dex.” 

“You’re welcome, angel. You’re going to look stunning in it.” 

Your breath tickles his skin as you huff a laugh against him and he’s desperate to stay in that moment forever. 

But as much as he wants it, he can’t bend time to his will and after the shortest eternity later, you pull away from him. 

“I think I need a shower before I put it on and model it for you. Will you join me?”

“Always,” he rushes out, honored you are asking him. He would have followed you into the bathroom anyways - not wanting to be even a room away from you any longer. He’s done it previously - sat on the counter while you spent countless minutes just letting water fall onto your skin. 

You usher him out of the bed, playfully making shooing motions as your mood begins to brighten. He dares to mirror your energy, and once you are standing, he picks you up bridal style. Your arms quickly return to being around his neck and that perfect little smile grows even more.

You let your head rest on his shoulder as he carries you into the bathroom and he loathes that he has to set you down to strip and turn on the shower. He lets you handle the water temperature - you alternate between scalding and barely below skin melting and it feels like the one thing Dex cannot memorize about you. It angers him, but you’ve gently explained it’s based on how you feel in that moment, and it can’t be predicted.  He treasures that you understand his frustration and helped him to find a solution.

Even if that solution is letting you do an iota of work. 

He allows you to help him out of his suit while he removes his shirt from your body. Each touch is slow, methodical, and deliberate - neither he or you are in a hurry, and he likes the care you put in making sure his clothes remain wrinkle free. 

Only when you are both nude and steam has covered the mirrors do you enter into the shower enclosure. Multiple sprays are going, and you hiss with pleasure as the burning water hits your skin, something Dex mimics even though he has no personal preference with how hot it is. 

He has seen you nude many, many times, and has touched almost every inch of your body, but he still turns his back to you to give the illusion of privacy. 

That sort of intimacy isn’t a line you and Dex have crossed yet. Forehead and cheek kisses are plentiful, but his lips have yet to touch yours and he would never even dare to suggest anything sexual with you. He doesn’t crave that release - not like other men do. He wants to bury himself in you to be as close as possible, but he understands that isn’t your desire and he will always be respectful of it. 

You are still his and he is still yours and that is all he needs. 

Dex begins his shower routine using the products you prefer. He would rather use things without a scent - the smell of rich honey tickles his senses a bit but it is what makes you happy and when he was out, putting his nose to his wrist helped to calm his anxieties in a way that reminded him of his long burnt tapes. 

As he starts to dig his fingers into his scalp, he hears you turn to face him. He can see you in the warped reflection of the shower nozzles but pretends he doesn’t as he watches you examine his back. Self-disgust gathers in his chest - from the base of his skull to his tailbone is the thick gnarled scar left over from his operation. The healing process had been hard and the memory of it makes Dex’s teeth gnash. It brings him back to the headspace of laying helplessly on the ground while Murdock failed to kill Fisk. 

The buzzing he hates so much is starting to vibrate within him, but before he can open his mouth to tell you to not look at him, you are stepping forward and hugging him from behind. 

Dex goes completely still, hands on his head, as you nuzzle between his shoulder blades, and then the world stops as your lips find his spine. 

You start at the nape of his neck, then slowly, oh so slowly, begin to place feather light kisses down his scar. 

He can just barely feel it but he thinks this is what is going to kill him. 

Too many emotions surge up into his chest and heart and he doesn’t even know what he is experiencing. He doesn’t know if it is good or bad - but he knows he doesn’t want you to stop despite it being almost too much. He can feel tears starting to mix with the shower spray on his cheeks. 

He is frozen as you trail down his body. 

Your hands start on his chest, making their way south on his front as you lower yourself to get the small of his back, but they never go below his navel. His abs flex under your touch, but you don’t tease or taunt. You just continue with your task, kissing right to the bottom of the scar before starting your way back up. 

His knees are quaking hard when you return to your starting point. You place a firmer kiss to the original start - Dex can hear the wet sounds of your lips against his skin over the sounds of the shower - before turning your head to press your cheek to him and tighten your arms around his chest. 

You press yourself flush to him back as the sweetest words he’s ever experienced begin to pour out of you. 

“Thank you, Dex. For taking care of me. For making sure I’m safe. For being so good to me.” 

“You deserve the world,” he croaks out, surprised he can even speak. 

You squeeze him tighter, and in a soft voice, ask, “would you give it to me?”

“Yes,” he responds instantly. Without question - without thought. Anything - he’d give you anything. He’ll carve out his heart and present it on a platter for you. 

You just have to ask. 

“I can’t give it back,” you whisper against him. “I can’t give you the world.”

He finally is able to move, and he drops his hands to find yours, lacing your fingers with his and gripping you tightly - but not enough to hurt you in any way. 

“You don’t need to. You are my world.” 

It is sappy and pathetic, but it is true. 

You became his world the moment Murdock turned and walked away from you. Murdock abandoned you - he left you to die, from either Dex’s hand or your own - and Dex will never forgive him for it. 

But Murdock’s mistake was Dex’s blessing. 

Dex protects you from your Darkness and you protect him from his. You take the things Dex hates about himself and cradle them close, make him feel like he is a Person instead of a hollow shell of a weapon. 

You are much much more than his North Star. 

You're his Angel.

You bury your face against him and Dex lets you - too scared to move and break the moment. He has no idea you stand under the spray, clinging to each other while he still has shampoo in his hair. It could be minutes, hours, or days - he doesn’t know. He just tries to commit everything to memory - how warm and soft you are against him, how your breath skirts over his skin, how your fingers flex against his. 

Eventually, much too soon in Dex’s opinion, you breathe out, “I’m getting cold,” before starting to pull away. 

Shakily, Dex licks his lips before replying, “let's get back to bed.”

He refuses to allow himself to turn around - to see you as vulnerable as you saw him - instead, he quickly rinses out his hair and forgoes the rest of his routine. 

The water stops as soon as the last of the suds fall from him and a second later, a towel is being passed to his hands. 

It is surprisingly easy to compose himself as he dries off. He watches you from the corner of his eye, envious of the cloth that gets to soak up the water that clings to you. He would lick each droplet off you if you allowed it. 

Your post shower routine is longer than his, so he goes to fetch your new sleeping clothes from the bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants for himself as he does. 

You smile at him, soft and sweet and Caring, as he lays out your top and panties on the counter.

“Do you want to wait on the bed, so it will be a surprise?” you ask him, a bit of a playful twinkle in your eye. 

He doesn’t - he never wants to be more than an arm’s length from you again - but Dex humors you and goes to sit on the bed. Through the reflections in the windows, he watches you get dressed - ruining any semblance of a surprise. 

Something warm fills his chest as you turn and examine yourself in the mirror, clearly pleased with the way the fabric swirls up when you spin. You smooth your hands over your breast, belly, and sides, before you finally turn and slink your way to him. 

You look Heavenly. The piece flatters your body perfectly and the little boy shorts make the outfit look far more innocent than he suspects it is supposed to be. His body would have no trouble responding if you wanted to slip out of those pretty panties and crawl into his lap. 

Dex wolf whistles as you do another little spin, giving him a proper full view, and you giggle like a schoolgirl. 

“I love it,” you tell him, voice full of mirth. “Thank you, Dex.”

“Of course, angel. Anything for you.”

Anything. 

And one day, you will know he truly, truly means it. 

--

whoops I wrote more of this au im not sorry

[foggyinphx]

I don't think I'd be happier per se, but I think I'd be less aggrieved if people who expect me to take Foggy's death as portrayed at face value would at least concede that it's poorly written if that is the case.

And I mean that without even touching on the Matt side of it. I'm talking specifically about the circumstances we saw play out on screen.

Bullseye has NO motivation for shooting Foggy in the chest. Especially when he immediately head shots two people after. Foggy was a still target and Dex had a scope.

"Well they wouldn't want to kill a main character that brutally on screen." Tell that to Ray Nadeem.

"He wanted to torture Matt/Daredevil." No where in the season do they imply this, at all. Additionally, it has never been established that he even knows Matt is Daredevil. If you're allowed to start assuming things then boy do I have some assumptions to lay out that I'm suuuure won't be called "delusional cope", right?

"Well they needed him to bleed out for the drama." Then that's BAD WRITING! There are a million ways to create this situation, if that's what they needed, and they chose none of them. Matt could have tackled Bullseye while the shot was going off. Karen could have seen him coming and fired her gun, spoiling his perfect shot. Foggy could have seen him walking up and moved at the last second (perhaps even thinking he was protecting Karen, and hey look at that suddenly we have an actual guilt-based motivation for Karen leaving!).

Weirdly enough, an argument I don't think I've seen anybody make is "Maybe he just wanted Foggy to hurt". Which is the closest thing to plausible. He told Vanessa he remembered Foggy. Maybe he's just still pissed about that selfie and took the opportunity at hand for some personal revenge.

But that begs my other unanswered question: What about Benny?

He DIDN'T kill Benny. Why? Benny, who Dex was specifically told to get too, who Dex roughed up in Foggy's apartment... Dex just left him there. Not dead.

Did Benny know about Foggy's Red Hook strategy? Was he taken in for questioning about being at Foggy's apartment? Did he go to jail because his lawyer died? Did he go on the run? What happened to Benny!? Who knows, cause we sure don't! Benny's entire case was relegated to a box that Matt and Karen didn't think twice about.

Benny was the subject of nearly ALL of Foggy's dialogue. They gave us an entire dialogue exchange between Foggy and Kirsten all about Dumb Benny, and then handed the Red Hook documents to her at the end of season 1. He has to be important in the future. If Benny existed just to be a voice on a phone and we never see or hear from him again, that's (say it with me) Bad Writing.

Trust me, I DON'T want it to be bad! I want it to be good! For it to all be a long con! I'm on tenterhooks about season 2, wishing and hoping that there's more to this than they presented. Especially with some of the leaks we've gotten! There has to be more.

So stop telling me to accept it at face value. Please.

[angellicxx]

rooftop watcher

Benjamin "Dex" Pointdexter x Reader

Summary: Dex loves watching you from a distance, but hates not being able to give the pleasure you deserve from him.

an:This is my first ever published fanfic one shot so hopefully its not that bad. I've been obsessed with Bullseye edits recently and just needed to write a stalker fic.

warnings: Dark!Dex, stalker, f masturbation, cumming in pants, dark thoughts, Dex daydreaming and wanting to hurt a guy (he's so precious he would never)

w.c.: 1,300 (edited 5/25/25)

A fresh breeze of the city hit Dex’s face as he adjusted his binoculars. It was the perfect view. It didn’t take him long to find it. He only had to find a building adjacent to your apartment and with a higher outlook. How lucky he was for it to have an unlocked rooftop no one ever went to. It was almost like you were inviting him to watch you, not ever closing your curtains at night. Didn’t you know there were bad people who could see you living all alone? Thats why he had to be there. To make sure you were safe.

It was a late Friday night, and Dex was so proud to see you were staying home tonight, instead of venturing out into the unsafe city where it would be hard to keep an eye on you.

You probably would go out with your girlfriends in a skimpy outfit-- that sexy, black plunge top and skirt he loved so much, the one that showed your ass perfectly--all of it earning sinful gazes from prowling men in the night who would offer you drinks and a night at their apartment. He would have no other choice than to watch you blush and smile at them, too drunk to make a decision that was good for you.

If Dex had the courage he would be the man.

He was a coward, too unworthy to approach you. Instead he would just follow from a distance to make sure the guy didn't get any wrong ideas-- make any moves that made you uncomfortable. If he did, he would leave him bleeding in the alleyway, before asking if you were alright, if that man was going to hurt you.

Maybe he wasn’t-- but he would still earn your thankful praises.

A hero in the night.

You would be so grateful for him and insist on bringing him back to your place-- oh, that would be so nice.

But that wouldn’t happen tonight. No, tonight you had chosen to stay in and rewatch that show for the third time. Dex didn’t pay attention to the show, he was too busy adjusting the magnification of the lens to get a better look at your tank top and shorts. They must’ve been new and not worn in yet because they were just so tight.

In the faint glow of your dark room he would see your delicate nipples pushing at the fabric, your breasts stretching the cotton. The sleep shorts riding up your thighs as you mindlessly gazed at the TV under drowsy lids. How cute you were sprawled across your bed sheets for no one else to see but him.

Dex was getting agitated in the soft chill of the night. He deserved to be in the warm bed with you, holding you close as you smiled at the cheesy joke on the screen, caressing your soft exposed skin still fresh from the thirty minute shower you just took. Dex didn’t know what it was that made you switch on, but it snapped him back to his watching when he saw it.

Maybe it was an intimate scene on the television, or a passing thought of him, but a drowsy smirk played on your lips as your hand slowly slid down your chest and slipped down your shorts.

This was going to be a good night for Dex.

You were rubbing slow, soft methodical circles underneath your shorts. Dex prayed you would take them off so he could see your pretty pussy just once. It was unfair how you didn’t even take your clothes off. Dex wanted nothing more to see you naked—unfortunately you only ever seemed to put your clothes on in the bathroom.

Your other hand had dipped under the hem of your tank top, palming at your breasts as your eyes closed to your sensual movements. It only took a few seconds until you began to squirm, legs reaching out as your mouth fell agape to soft moans and whimpers.

His cock twitched beneath his pants, fighting the urge to take it out and stroke himself alongside you. But he resisted. He had to take in every moment. Dex noted to bring a camera next time.

Your hair sprawled out on your pillow, back arching to the pleasure Dex wished he could give you. if only you were kind and gave him a chance— it tortured him to the fact you hardly ever even looked at him.

Dex allowed his hand to fall to his hips, palming at the erection you selfishly gave him. He couldn’t contain his grunts of frustration as you fucked yourself, teasing him mercilessly from a distance.

You were a whimpering mess. How easy you got off, your sensitive self didn’t even need a toy.

He couldn’t take it, the thought that he could make you feel so much better. But tonight he would contain himself, and admire your needy form pleasuring yourself from a distance.

Dex couldn’t stop himself as his hips bucked into his hand in tandem with yours, his dick straining the fabric of his pants as he breathlessly fought to control himself. The form of your hand rutting underneath your shorts was enough to set him off completely.He could feel the pre-cum on the tip of his cock, white knuckling the binoculars so hard he thought he would break his damn hand.

You were so pretty, lips agape and body shuddering with your struggle to cum. Arms tensing as you fucked yourself all alone, whimpering to the dark air of your room. Next time you would be moaning his name into his ear as he did all the work for you. He would make you feel as good as he felt right now watching you.

You were close, fingers clutching your tit as you fingers moved faster under your shorts, legs straining to reach the climax he could give you faster. Your index finger was rubbing circles on your nipple from under the fabric, hip bucking into your hand at a faster pace. He could image in the lewd sounds of your moans and slapping of how wet you were. One final cry out and you became undone, falling back onto your mattress as you chest rapidly fell and rose, fingers still lazily drifting around your nerves to let the orgasm ride out.

“Fuck.” Dex breathed out and shuddered in the cold. Cum filled his boxers, sticking to his pants and hips as he gripped the brick boundary of the roof to steady himself.

Only you could make him so pathetically mindless to cum in his pants. Just imagining your tight body clenching aorund him and making him cum was almost enough to make him grow hard again.

When Dex gathered himself again to look back into your window, he was disappointed to see it had become pitch black, and you were lost in the dark to him. You must have grown tired from your orgasm and shut the TV off for the night, drifting off the sleep without him. He cursed himself again at how stupid he was to have looked away.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Perhaps tomorrow when you were on your morning run he would follow more closely behind. Maybe he would accidentally bump into you at the coffee shop you like so much and make a comment about the show’s upcoming renewal. The plan was all coming along, just so you could be together. Maybe tomorrow night you could get fucked by him instead of your lonely fingers.

He took one final peak and whispered a good night before he returned home.

“I’ll see you soon, darling.”

[takenbypeter]

Can you do a Benjamin Poindexter x reader where the reader sees the scar on his back from the surgery he had on his spine for the first time. Maybe she shows him scars she’s gotten from being a hired assassin. I think it would also be funny if they had matching scars from where they’ve shot each other before.

Scars With A Story

Benjamin Poindexter x reader

Words: 459

Planted on Dex’s mattress, you stared at your phone waiting for the boredom to pass before the bathroom door opened and steam came pouring out. A half naked Benjamin Poindexter came out wearing only a pair of pants. 

It was funny. If any outsider looked at you two, you didn’t think anyone would suspect your unethical occupations. 

You couldn’t blame them though. In some moments you even forgot. But something always brought you back to reality. 

As Dex stood in front of his dresser’s mirror across from you, you scooted closer to him, sitting on the edge of his bed. Your eyes couldn’t help but drag across the muscles of his bare back taking in the view. 

Then they stopped right on the spine. Your relationship wasn’t fresh, fresh, you knew about his scars and he knew about yours, that’s just what came with the job. 

But sometimes you saw certain scars more than others and the back one was definitely one you saw only in passing moments. 

Dex, who was preoccupied, focused on drying his hair, swiping his towel against his locks while you were entranced by the lines that ran down his back. 

Almost as if being hypnotized. 

Your eyes were glued to his body, your hand drifting out to him before ultimately reaching his back. 

Dex came to a stop at your touch. 

Absent-mindedly you lightly traced his scar, starting from the top and slowly making your way down to the bottom, making Dex shiver against the tip of your fingers that grazed him. 

“Beautiful,” you muttered, eyes fixated on his back while his own eyes were fixated on what he could see from the reflection of you behind him. 

“More like, gruesome,” he said, grabbing a neatly folded t-shirt from his drawer before putting it on. 

“Sure gruesome, but it comes with the job. Every scar holds a story,” you raise your arm and ride your sleeve up, “this one, job chasing a political figure on a planned runaway train.” You then lifted your pant leg, “fight with another assassin, who held her ground pretty good. And…” you pulled the neckline of your shirt down a bit exhibiting the side of your neck. “Remember this one?”

Dex lips cocked to one side before he pulled his own shirt sleeve all the way up revealing the graze on his shoulder. “How could I forget.”

You two smiled at each, no words shared, but you two knew those scars. Those were the scars from the day you two officially met. 

The day the two of you shot at each other. And the day the two of you gained respect from one another. 

It was a good day, and now you two had scars to remember it by. 

[ladydeadrabbit]

North Star- Daredevil: (Bullseye) Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

(Note: Originally this was to be an Arkham Knight x Reader, but with the new episodes of Daredevil, I couldn't help myself <3 I think the next story I write will be a Scarecrow x Reader [Cillian Murphy, of course, bc he's dreamy]. Also, sorry not sorry if this one-shot kinda sucks, I lost motivation in wiriting it about a quarter of the way through, but enjoy!)

Summary: Dex takes a cute girl out on a date. She’s a shy rookie FBI agent naive to his psychopathic nature. Charmed by his grandeur, she falls victim to his desire for her to be his “north star.”

In the 30 something years that Dex had been alive he’d not felt much– call it a result of his trauma from his abusive foster parents, or the psychological disorder he’d been diagnosed with in his early years; but Benjamin “Dex” Poindexter had liked to think he was immune to the weaknesses of normal human emotions. He knew what sadness was, of course, he’d gotten a nasty taste of that in his late teens when Dr. Mercer had passed on– as well as anger, like when his promotion had been delayed at his job.

But there was one thing that Dex had not felt, or at least experienced, in a long, long time– and it was the feeling of jealousy. He knew jealousy, of course, he’d remembered all too well how he felt when his baseball coach had made him sit out in favor of giving the other kids a turn. He also remembered how he felt nothing but resentment towards his coach, and later apathy once he’d thrown the ball to crack his previous mentor’s skull.

Jealousy, to say the least, was something the tall, blonde, handsome FBI agent did not usually feel as a full-grown man. Jealousy was for the weak-minded, for those who lacked the inner peace and structure he’d created carefully in his mind for himself. You see, structure was the key to everything for Dex– it was the essence of his sanity, carefully curated for him with the help of his late doctor.

It was why he followed the same routines in his day-to-day life, it was the sole purpose of the reason why he’d sought out a job in law enforcement. So when Dex awoke this morning and headed into work, one could imagine why he’d felt entirely off put when you weren’t there to greet him with a shy smile and an awkwardly cute little wave. Perhaps his attraction to you was purely from the unspoken routine that the two of you shared, or perhaps it was because of the slightly too tight, slightly see-through, white button-up shirts you had seemed to love to adorn– but if there was one thing that the blonde was fore-sure of, it was the stirrings of the unwelcoming jealousy that boiled within his gut when you weren’t there to greet him by the coffee machine and instead were found to be hold-up in conversation with Agent Nadeem.

Dex didn’t care and paid no mind to the fact that the Agent in question was married with a kid– the sight of him stealing your attention away from the morning greeting that Poindexter looked forward to every day made him grind his teeth and clench his fists in rage. Briefly, though Dex immediately pushed the thought aside, he imagined what it would be like if he threw the pen in his pocket into the back of Nadeem’s head. 

Would his skull explode upon impact? Would his brains go spattering all across your pretty smile? Would you scream and cry?

A shiver of excitement ran up his spine.

Nadeem, as if sensing Dex’s concentrated hatred, turned around to face him. His eyes widened upon contact with Dex’s, but only briefly, and just as quickly as he’d come, Nadeem was quickly moving away from you with his head bowed and over to his private cubicle. That’s when Benjamin’s gaze snapped over to yours.

You smiled kindly, as if not seeing or sensing the tension from the two men in the room, before gliding over to where Dex stood near the coffee machine.

“Rough night?” You asked, ever so kindly. Dex couldn’t help but immediately forgive you at that moment.

It wasn’t your fault that the world was full of predators out to steal you away. You were goodness incarnate, pure, and everything that Dex needed to be.

“Not really, why do you ask?”

“You just seem a little tired today, thought I’d ask.” Your smile widened a little as you said this. “It’s not because of the whole Fisk case, is it?”

Dex’s stomach turned. He did not like you saying his name, or just being reminded of the Kingpin in general, for that matter.

“No. Not at all… let’s change the subject– you, me, dinner at my place?” Dex’s lips moved faster than his brain could process, and by the time he’d realized just what he’d asked you, it was a little too late.

Your smile dropped, eyes going wide, but only for the briefest of moments before the light in your face came right back and you were grinning again.

“Sure! That sounds fun. Have you already decided on the meal, or are you open to suggestions? Because, honestly, I’ve been craving Pizza like crazy!”

Internally, a sigh of relief echoed in the FBI agent’s mind.

“Pizza it is!” He smiled and laughed, mimicking your expression with intent.

The remainder of the day followed without incident. Dex even found himself with a little more skip in his step as the day neared the end. He’d been dreaming of when he could take you home for himself for quite some time now– he just never fathomed he’d ever work up the proper amount of courage to ask you out.

When the Agent had arrived home, he immediately started to put his plan into motion. The two of you agreed to have dinner at around 7– a little late in the evening, but you both decided it would be enough time for both of you to finish up and work from the day, as well as to clean up a bit for the evening. It was never flat-out stated, but tonight was a date– casual, but still a date nonetheless.

Dex showered, changed into a button-down shirt and dark jeans, and ordered the food. He already knew exactly what you liked from his observation of you from the past year, but asked you through text anyhow, just so he would come off all the more casual. While waiting for you and the food to arrive, the dexterous man straightened his apartment up a bit.

There was not much to clean or move around. Dex lived in a simple one-bedroom apartment. The entrance into his home was a small kitchen that was only divided from the living room by a countertop, and to the left of the living room, was a simple wall and door that divided his bedroom and bathroom from the main part of his home.

His walls were a plain cream color, the only photo to be seen was that of a group photo from his old job, and a few childhood drawings pinned to the fridge for memorabilia’s sake. Dex had no family or close friends to have captured memories of. Nor any real interests outside of his job.

Although on the bed of his bedroom door, he did keep a small dart board hung up, just for those late nights he couldn’t fall asleep.

It took you longer than you would have liked to get ready for your dinner date with Dex. Nerves, you supposed, fluttered in your stomach wildly throughout the day. The conversation you had had with Nadeem that morning was the root cause of the anxiety that forced your heart to do jumping jacks in your rib cage.

You had suspected for a while that Fisk was using the FBI as a means to get rid of the competition to his illegal business, and you knew damn well that his lawyers were likely the culprits handling his business affairs while he sits pretty in that damn penthouse. But when Nadeem came to you with a concerning theory that one of your own was working alongside Fisk, you couldn’t help but feel a little on edge, especially after he told you to watch yourself around Dex.

You liked Dex, you did, you had ever since the first day in office when you accidentally spilt coffee on his shirt and he charmed you with a corny (yet somewhat morbid) joke about having worse spilt on him (or… perhaps he was trying to make a dirty joke? You weren’t sure, but laughed anyways). So when Dex came up towards you this morning, after the shocking revelation that Nadeem dropped on you, you jumped at the opportunity to agree to go on a date. You wanted so badly for Dex to be innocent and this itself presented the perfect opportunity in understanding the mysterious agent more.

That, and you did like him and hoped he did too.

So, with the plan in motion and your determination set, you gave yourself a once-over in the mirror before calling a cab and heading to the address he texted you.

Dex answered the door with the first knock, startling you within the hall of his apartment complex. He lived a little further downtown, but in a relatively quiet neighborhood. Not the best apartments you’ve visited in Hell’s Kitchen, he could probably afford nicer if he wanted, but nice nonetheless, and clean.

Bashfully, the opposing Agent in question smiled and apologized for the abrupt answer to your knocks, before inviting into his abode. You laughed it off, and for a second, the doubts of what Nadeem told you earlier bounced around in your skull.

“You arrived just in time!” Dex said, smiling, guiding you over towards the small kitchen that led into the even smaller living room. “Pizza just arrived.”

You smiled back, allowing him to take the leather jacket you had decided to wear over the dress of the evening. Briefly, you felt his eyes flutter over your figure as you turned and pretended not to notice whilst taking a seat at one of the two bar stools he had set up. Dex hung your jacket next to his FBI jumper on a coat rack next to the door.

“So handsome. What kind of movie are we watching tonight?”

Flirtation was never your strong suit, but you played it off well tonight.

A sheepish smile spread coyly across his face, and you watched as Dex’s cool demeanor suddenly stopped, and a fresh flush blush adorned his face.

“Uh-I- ha,” he laughed bashfully, scratching the back of his neat little hair cut. “I was so focused on ordering the food and waiting for you that I forgot all about selecting a movie.”

You laughed, easing his nerves.

“That’s quite alright! I’m sure we’ll find something entertaining.” 

You moved from your spot on the bar stool to the front of the couch in his living room– which, really, was more of a slightly longer loveseat than an actual couch, before snatching up the remote that lay on the coffee table in front of it and switching on the tv. From behind you, you heard Dex move closer.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I don’t watch tv? Well, besides keeping up with the Red Sox during baseball season.”

“You like sports?” You asked, turning to face him briefly. 

“Only baseball, and not as much as when I was a kid. Really I keep up with it to pass time and to make conversation. You?”

“Not particularly. I just didn’t take you as the competitive type.” With your attention turned back to the TV screen ahead, you watched as it flickered to life seamlessly.

Oddly, Dex’s apartment felt cold– not exactly in a literal sense, the room was at a comfortable temperature, rather, the place didn’t feel very “lived in” as some would say. It was clean and minimal, and somehow his home felt more like a hotel room rather than someone’s actual living space. All of this dawned on you when the smart TV’s option screen came to life before you.

He had no apps downloaded from the menu screen– normally people would at the very least have some sort of channel subscription service like Netflix or Disney Plus to choose from, but all that greeted you were the basic free channel services that almost all tv’s nowadays had predownloaded. 

‘I supposed he really wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t watch TV,’ you thought to yourself; pulling up one of the free channels available and looking through some free movies.

“How do you feel about horror?” You asked, breaking the silence that briefly enveloped the room during your search.

“It’s… okay,” he hesitated, as if he were testing the waters for your reaction. Was he trying to gauge what kind of movies you liked? How sweet.

“This channel seems to mostly have those kinds of movies on it– and you’re not really giving me exactly a selection here. I tell you what,” you made eye contact with him again, “I’ll put an older one on, and if you decide that you don’t like it– we’ll turn it off and try to find something else.”

Dex smiled and agreed. 

The featured film for this evening was titled “Psycho”, naturally, if you were going to put on an old black and white film, you’d rather it be a classic, and Psycho was a grand as they came in American films of this era and genre. The film revolved around a woman stealing money from her job and skipping town to go meet up with a man. During her travels she stops and rests at a hotel where she is then brutally murdered by the owner who plays dress-up by night as his deceased mother.

It was an eerie plot, but by today’s standards, it was nothing in comparison to what is commonly shown.

Dex was silent throughout the movie, and you stole glances from him when you could, trying to understand whether or not it was boring him or if he was actually entertained. The pizza he ordered was fantastic— it was actually from one of your favorite takeout places in town, and you enjoyed it with a soda beverage.

As the film neared the end, you now finished eating and were sitting crossed legged on one end of the couch, felt an ever-so so shift beside you. You ignored it, assuming of course that Dex was just readjusting, until his arm came to wrap around your shoulders.

Shock was the first reaction you had to his boldness, and then came ease. You eased into Dex’s side, allowing him to envelope you. 

It’d been too long since you had the pleasure of being in the company of a man, and despite the slight dwellings of doubt that flickered from your mind– you liked Dex, and so far, he’d given you no reasons to suspect him of the suggestions Nadeem had made earlier about him.

No words were passed between the two of you when the credits began to roll, there was no need. As if possessed, you turned your face up at him and leaned up to capture his lips in a chastening kiss. You meant it only to be an innocent peak; a sorta thank you, for the relaxing night, but when the opposing agent reciprocated, it turned heated.

Dex’s lips were cold and possessive and they moved faster than yours could to keep up. The bite and sucked on your lower lip before trailing to the corner of your jaw, down your neck, where they then made perch on a particularly sensitive spot.

You gasped and shuddered beneath him, slightly taken aback by his behavior and fully turned on from it. You allowed yourself, however, to be dragged down beneath him on the couch. You allowed him to slide a space in between your legs, and you revealed him in the moment.

Your hands, shaky and unsteady, grabbed on to anything within reach to gain some level of control– the couch, Dex’s hair, his shoulder blades– but no matter what, you felt yourself spiraling, drowning in him.

His hands, just like his lips, were ravenous and everywhere. You couldn’t even fathom what all was transpiring until your dress slipped over your head and you were left shivering on his couch in your undergarments and heels.

Dex, ever the sadist, laughed at your reaction before scooping you up into his arms and whisking you to his room. Almost cruelly, he tossed you onto the bed and stood above you as he began undressing. Sluggish, you tried sitting up and undoing the strap on your heels to kick them off, but like a natural predator, he was on top of you before you could be successful.

Dex forced you into a somewhat awkward position, with your knees to your chest, practically folding you in half. You gasped and squirmed in the uncomfortable, compromising angle, but made no real efforts to stop him as he shimmed out of his pants and tossed his shirt to the side. You were in awe for a moment as the agent presented himself in all his glory to you.

You knew Dex was fit, it was a requirement to maintain your health as an FBI agent, but you supposed you never knew just how athletic his build way under those button-down shirts.

Dex’s room was dark, the only source of lighting coming from the kitchen that peeked out from the half-open bedroom door, but it was just enough for you to take in all the details of the man before you.

Dex smiled down at you, noticing your stare, but said nothing as he swooped down on you, stealing your lips in a shockingly more tender kiss. It didn’t last long as a moment later the heat between the two of you reignited and he was back to devouring you while you were left helpless but to grasp onto his shoulders and neck. Dex was a wild animal.

You awoke sometime in the night to a bump in the dark. Norepinephrine and histamine are not quite yet doing their job on your brain as you struggled to comprehend where you were and the events that lead you there— until everything, just like a switch, flipped in your brain and you were hit with a bus full of memories. 

Dex…

You struggled to pull yourself up from the comfort of the thick covers that embraced you in their safety. Eyes bleary from sleep and crusted over; you could hardly make anything out in the dark, and as a result, found yourself fumbling about. Miraculously, you manage to regain enough mobility to flop yourself over onto your stomach, where you then army-crawl over to the nightstand.

You were still at Dex’s apartment, that much was for sure— but where Dex was at this time was beyond you. Snatching up your phone from the bedside table and unlocking the screen, you squinted at the time.

6:41 am.

‘Damn, it’s early!’ Your subconscious screamed at you.’Where the hell is Dex?’

You glanced over where he’d once slept— the memory of what the two of you did just hours prior floating through your mind. You squeezed your thighs together and reveled in the soreness that followed.

‘Focus!’ The more logical side of your brain complained. With aching muscles, you followed its instructions and moved from the comfort of the bed to the cold hard wood flooring.

A chill shuddered your nude body and you made it a point to cover yourself with the nearest article of constructed clothing— conveniently this being the dress you wore earlier… though, where you’re underwear went, you had no ounce of an idea.

Now arguably more decent than you were before, you ventured forth into the main living space that was Dex’s apartment. It was empty, you found, as your tired gaze swept across the kitchen and living room.

‘Is he in the bathroom?’ The question briefly flickered in your mind, the possibility being highly likely as you turned back into the bedroom… and that’s when your stare caught it.

Next to the front door, Dex’s coat closet stood ajar— of course, nothing about that per say would be strange— except for the large safe that lay within. Said safe, just like the closet, was also pulled open— and that’s where you found a box racked full of cassette tapes. You didn’t mean to pry— hell! You didn’t want to be the one digging through his stuff, but something uncomfortable stirred within your gut and compelled you to reach forward.

“What’re you doing up, darling?”

Dex’s voice startled a yelp out of you and you spun around to face him.

“It’s late, my love. Let’s go back to bed,” he urged you with gentle words. You choked out an embarrassed excuse, allowing him (albeit begrudgingly) to guide you back to bed.

(A/N: If you enjoyed this fic and would like to read my fics an entire month in advanced, please consider becoming a member of my Patreon: https://linktr.ee/starrstuder

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[hellscupboards]

Listen I'm holding on to the shred of hope that Foggy is still gonna come back in S2 and here is how I think it'll happen -

The FBI has yet to make themselves known however even if there was some sovereign nation charter for the Red Hook port (which is a hilarious plot point to me btw like this one port is allowed to do whatever tf they want bc of some dusty scroll they dug out of a Indiana Jones crypt?? And the only people who know about it are the Fisks, Foggy, and Dumb Benny?? Ok 👍) whatever Vanessa Fisk is doing still obviously violates FEDERAL laws

So, here is what I am currently centrifuging in my brain: the FBI put Foggy in witpro because Foggy is 1 out of like 4.5 people that know about this charter and bringing it to light in court would completely upheave whatever sting they have planned for the Fisks. Because they KNOW whatever she is doing is illegal they're just planning and waiting and gathering evidence (and possibly waiting for Fisk to come back from whatever he was doing) so when they do get them it's so airtight they can basically throw them in a hole and throw away the key

(The FBI have a bone to pick them after all the shit that happened with Fisk manipulating them in S3 right??)

Vanessa asks Dex to take out Foggy and moves the courts to get him out on appeal. The FBI lets it happen, actually I could see them HELPING HER OUT, and then get to Dex before he has a chance to and appeal to his better nature

"aren't you guilty about what you did to Nadeem? Aren't you mad that Fisk killed Julie? Aren't you pissed that Fisk discarded you for Vanessa? You used to be one of US why are you helping THEM out?"

Maybe convinces Dex to shoot Foggy nonlethally, and then in the heat of everything come and collect him, revive him (which is possible, I think) and then stuff him away in a 1 bedroom apartment in Tallahassee with Dumb Benny as a roomie until the Fed is ready to arrest the Fisks

Here's my evidence:

> Foggy was shot in the upper chest instead of the head by Mr My Gimmick Is Literally Aiming Good

> No funeral !!! Which if he was in witpro, there would still be a funeral but probably an empty casket (or a casket with a body the same body type as Foggy to fool Matt's senses)

> Matt literally took the same wound 10 episodes later and survived

> Dumb Benny didn't die because he was on the phone with Foggy as Dex was coming after him (who would also know about the port)

> Dex's promise to Matt about telling him who asked him to kill Foggy if he got out of jail

> the red herring scene with Vanessa asking Dex to kill Foggy to purposefully mislead us

SO in conclusion, Foggy is not dead. And if he is i will personally rip Scaradapane's throat out with teeth :)