#ben dex poindexter

[redpool]

Ok I don't know how many times this needs to be said, but if you lost a therapist who you have been seeing since you were a child and one of the last things she tells you is to find a North Star, you find that North Star and then enter a highly stressful job where you're being manipulated by the person you're supposed to be watching, that person finds out everything about you, kills your North Star, manipulates you into going off your meds and then manipulates you into doing their bidding and has you kill a whole bunch of people, how would you react to a situation like that?

[novagif]

Daredevil: Born Again S01E01

[nelsonmurdockpaged]

oh the THINGS I have to say about this scene

the way dex has spiraled because he's lost his job and lost his julie, his north star. and he holds matt responsible for it all because if Fisk had never sent him to discredit daredevil, none of this would have happened to him.

so it's only fair that matt loses his north star - foggy - too.

of course dex feels no remorse and probably even feels joy for it - he got his revenge, and now he's reduced matt to being just like him: a broken, angry, sad man whose only concern is revenge.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Reciprocate the Feeling

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x F!Reader

Genre: angst and smut oops, 18+ content

Summary: You and Dex aren't technically allowed to be together, but that doesn't stop you from seeing each other–and having feelings. Where your strength is with words, Dex's is with touch.

Words: 2,221

It wasn’t allowed, what they were doing.

Well, it wasn’t allowed in the obvious sense. No one told them they couldn’t be doing this—it was one of those unspoken things that everyone knew wasn’t allowed. 

Did that stop them? 

It never does. 

She breathes him in like it’s her first breath of fresh air after holding it in for so long—gasping for air to fill her lungs—gasping for him to fill all her senses. Her heart was hammering in her ribcage from the adrenaline it still brought her—the adrenaline he made her feel. It only made her that much more attached to him, more than she already was. The physicalness of it all only made it stronger. Her feelings, that is. 

Dex nudged his nose against her cheek—they were that close—as a way to gently push her in the direction he wanted her to go. Dex, the trained FBI agent, skilled sniper, who has seen many a horrid view and has done even worse (all a part of the job) gently pushes her with the tip of his nose as a way to indicate he wants her in his bed. It wasn’t shocking to him that he was capable of doing something so gently. It was shocking that she obliged. She knows what he’s capable of—knows he’s got a sniper sitting in his closet, locked behind a safe—and yet, she obliges. And yet, she trusts him. He’s not sure how he managed to earn that from her. 

He’s never done anything to her that could make her think she shouldn’t trust him. In her eyes, he worked for the FBI. He was a good guy. He was the handsome sniper who kept to himself but somehow could only open up to her. He was just Dex in her eyes. Her eyes were now closed, lips attached to his. Dex guided her in that gentle way he knew she liked. His hand caressed the back of her neck, and his other used the small of her back to hold her steady. He walked her backward into his room. 

There was no need to shut the door behind him and lock it. It was just the two of them, safe in his apartment. The outside world didn’t matter when it was just them like this. There was no work, no FBI, no tasks, or any of the harsh, mundane things he dealt with on a daily basis. It was just her in front of him, in his hands. Her soft skin and soft hair were between his fingertips. Her lips were on his. Her hands were on his shoulders. He gently lays her down. The warmth of his lips is gone as he pulls back to look down at her. 

“Come back here,” she whispers with a mischievous smile, bedroom eyes looking up at him as he knelt on the bed between her legs. 

“Yes ma’am,” Dex says equally as quietly. He mirrors her movements as he mirrors the way she speaks to him sometimes. If she indicated she wanted to be touched, he touched her. If she spoke softly, he did too. It was his way of ensuring he wasn’t doing anything wrong to make her leave. He wouldn’t dare to do something to have her out of his grasp. His hold. 

He leans down again but this time snakes his arms underneath her, lifting her further up his bed so her head lays on his pillows. She was light as a feather in his arms. He pushes away her hair so her neck is exposed for him to taste. Dex traces the hollow of her neck with the tip of his nose before pressing gentle kisses on her skin. She turns her head more and closes her eyes. She places her fingers in his dirty blonde hair and scratches his head. Dex loves it when she does that. 

He meets her eyes again before leaning down and kissing her lips. He held her gaze for a moment, wondering what thoughts were happening in her head. He was absentmindedly playing with the hem of her leggings, timid to slide them off her legs. Dex was never as forward as she was when it came to getting intimate, but he made small, intimate gestures—small ways to ask for permission, without using words. 

“You can take them off,” she tells him softly. She found it sweet that he was acting this way. She’s never been with someone who touched her as gently as Dex did. 

Dex nods, ever so slightly, and wraps his thumbs on the inside of her leggings, slowly taking them off her one leg at a time. Her left ankle rested on his shoulder. He ran his hand up the length of her leg, caressing her skin. 

“I don’t let anyone touch me the way I let you, Dex,” she tells him in that same soft manner. Dex doesn’t know how to react. He just holds her gaze as he continues caressing her leg. Her other leg is between his parted knees. He turns his head to kiss her ankle. The more she opens up about her feelings, the more he wants to touch her. It was his way of reciprocating. Her feelings met with his physical touch. 

“Does someone else have access to you?” Dex asks her, his face darkening at the question. He was teasing, but how she worded her sentence before tempted him to ask anyway. Dex runs his fingers up and down her legs. 

Immediately, she shakes her head before she speaks. “No. Only you.”

Even though he knew the answer, Dex still let out a sigh of relief. Good—he was still the only one who had her attention. All of it. He had to keep it this way, whatever it took. 

Dex kisses her down the length of her leg, holding onto her waist with his other hand. He wants to have her completely exposed to him, but not yet. He gently takes her leg off his shoulder and leans over her again, forehead to forehead. She closes her eyes as he kisses her again. She presses her lips on his, feeling his skin as soft as leather, brushing against her cheeks. She didn’t know when it happened, but their hands were interlaced now, with Dex pinning them on either side of her head. 

He pulls back for a moment after sharing another deep kiss. Dex looks down at her, amused by how she looks so comfortable in his bed—comfortable to be beneath him. After everything he’s been through and all the secrets he’s kept locked up inside, he never thought someone like her could end up in his bed like this. And time and time again. She keeps coming back—he keeps letting her. 

“What are you thinking?” She asks him quietly, a hint of a smile on her face. Now it was her turn to be amused by him.

He looks away from her, feeling seen. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Dex,” she replies. She squeezes his hands. “Tell me.”

That’s the part he can’t do. The telling—the forming of words to accurately describe what he feels inside. She was so good at it. If he asked her the same thing right now, he’d bet she would say it without difficulty. 

“What are you thinking?” He asks her, mirroring the hint of a smile. 

“I’m thinking about… how much I like being with you,” she says easily. Dex knew it. “I’m thinking about how I feel connected to you.”

He’s equally terrified and amused at what she says. But he doesn’t let it show on his face. He looks serious suddenly, jaw clenched at the word connected. He wished he could reciprocate the feeling—the very foreign feeling of connection—that he was almost sure he felt with her. But wasn’t, at the same time. 

The only way he can respond is with physical touch. Not with words. 

He’s playing with the hem of her thin black underwear now. He slowly folds the top to expose where he wants to see but doesn’t completely pull it down. He’s asking for permission again. 

“Take it off,” she whispered. 

He wanted to, and he will soon, but he wanted to soak in this moment. He’s not sure how many more moments they’ll have like this together. He didn’t want to take it for granted and he especially didn’t want to rush anything. He knew that for sure. Because the most constant pattern in Dex’s life is he can never keep too good of a thing. Good things sometimes came but they never were for him to keep—for it to belong to him. It wasn’t in his cards.

He flips the top of her underwear again and covers the exposed skin. 

“I will,” Dex whispered. “But not until I take my time first.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. She feels his fingertips trace her ribcage as he pushes her shirt up. He unclips her bra from the back and slides it off her. Dex didn’t hesitate to take a nipple in his mouth, licking her sensitive bud until he felt it harden against his tongue. When it was, he moved to her other nipple and did the same thing. 

He pulled back and ran his hands down the length of her side, taking the image of her in and putting it to memory. He continues caressing her skin, not touching any intimate parts of her. She likes that he doesn’t. 

She can see his hardness through his jeans. She reaches to touch him through the soft fabric. It disrupts his caressing only for a moment as he closes his eyes and realizes how badly he needs to be touched—by her. He feels his cock harden even more the way she rubs her hand back and forth. The feeling is so intense he has to take her hand away as he catches his breath. 

He crashes his lips down to meet hers, taking her lips in a wet passionate kiss. She wraps her legs around his waist and brings him closer, feeling his hardness between her legs. Dex pushes against her and breathes deeply to control himself. He doesn’t want to take it there tonight. 

“Do you want to—“

“I don’t know,” he says. “Can I just keep touching you?” 

“Yes,” she says. “That’s fine with me.”

Dex slides her shirt off her, so she’s completely naked from the top. He kisses the skin between her breasts and holds his hands at her waist. He kisses down to her belly button. His fingers play with the top of her underwear again. This time, he’s ready. But he looks up at her once more for permission.

“Yes.”

Dex slowly pulls her underwear down her legs until they’re completely off. She lay there fully naked in front of him. And all he wants to do is take her in. Every curve, every movement her body made. He starts with his thumb at her clit, brushing feather-like strokes and watching her react to his touch. He knows she likes this. It was written all over her face. 

“Do you trust me?” Dex asks. 

“Yes,” she nods. He’s amused again at her honesty and ease at answering anything he asked. In response, Dex lowers his mouth to her wetness and kisses her heat. She presses her head further into his pillow and closes her eyes as Dex dances his tongue in her wet folds, slowly and taking his time. He traces his tongue agonizingly slow up her slit and stops to gently suck on her clit. He pulls back momentarily when he hears her moaning and kisses her inner thigh. He goes back to kissing her heat and takes hold of her hand as she finally orgasms against his mouth, her wetness coating his lips.

“Dex,” she breathes out as she reaches her climax, heavy breathing and body shaking, fingers tangled in his hair. Before she can even think, Dex already has her wrapped in his arms, holding her until her heart rate returns to a normal pace and she’s breathing steadily, no longer shaking. He holds her and kisses her shoulders as she nuzzles her head in the crook of his neck. Dex is staring outside his window, grateful the world is outside and they are safely tucked inside, away from it all. 

After a while, he feels her fall asleep in his arms. He’s running his fingers through her hair, unable to fall asleep. After what felt like an hour, he felt her stir in her sleep. She kisses his neck and pulls back to look up at him. 

“I should go,” she says sleepily. 

“You don’t have to,” Dex gently protests. “I want you to stay.” 

“Are you sure?” She asks, clearly unused to the invitation. 

“Yes,” Dex says. That was the thing he was most sure about. She sighed back into his embrace. He held her tighter than before. 

He just liked holding her. He liked having her this close. To take it that far would mean the completion of what they had and shared was coming soon. Just one more night of pining—of holding it in and letting actions speak for themselves. 

[midnightslark]

BREATHE

Pairing: Benjamin “Dex” Poindexter x reader

Warnings: Panic attacks, teensie bit of angst

@nocturnal1slut asked “Maybe something with dex having a panic attack and reader comforting him?💕”

Summary: You return home to find Dex curled up beside his bed, broken glass littered everywhere. In a moment of self deprecating panic, you comfort Dex.

Notes: First post! I hope you enjoy, please leave your thoughts and any requests you have! ^^

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The silence of the apartment was unexpected as you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the lack of lights being on casting the rooms in a shadowed darkness. A frown furrowed in your brows as you took a step further inside, pausing at the sound of glass crunching beneath your shoe.

Broken glass? This was a sight that didn’t come often, but when it did, you knew that something was wrong.

“Dex?” You softly called out, leaning down to place your bag by the door, softly shutting it as you kept your eyes darting around the place. You couldn’t help the way your stomach nervously clenched, your chest following suit in the same tight, anxious manner.

You carefully stepped around the broken glass the best you could, eyeing the glint in the darkness as you navigated your way through. You knew that if there was danger, your best bet would be to keep the lights off.

If anyone ever breaks in, keep the lights off. No one knows the apartment better than you. Dex had once told you that, before rambling on about how he’d protect you and if anyone tried to hurt you, he would deal it back but a thousand times worse. You knew he wasn’t lying and it it’s own way, it was sweet.

You slithered past the counter, quietly slipping a knife out of the holder as you eyed the place further. If someone had a gun, you’d be screwed, but it was better than nothing. At least Dex would be proud that you tried to defend yourself but also really, really mad that he couldn’t be there to defend you himself.

You checked behind the couch, found nothing and quietly headed towards the bathroom. Before you entered, the sound of a sniff from the bedroom made you stop in your tracks, your lips softly parting as you listened out for the sound once more. When it came again, you knew you hadn’t imagined it.

And how much it sounded like Dex.

“Dex?” You softly called out again. You didn’t hesitate to head towards your shared bedroom, freezing in your tracks at the sight before you.

Dex sat curled up against the side of the bed, his head in his hands as his breathing came out in shudders, like he was struggling to pull air through his lungs.

“Dex-“ You breathed out, quickly sliding into the floor in front of him, placing the knife down and lightly grabbing at his wrists, feeling the way he was shaking beneath your hold.

“D-don’t.” He whispered, keeping his head in his hands, not daring to meet his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” You softly asked, your thumbs reassuringly rubbing across the skin of his arms. He was shaking beneath your hold.

“Don’t do that- don’t ask me that.” He lightly snapped. You softly frowned, knowing this. Knowing him. This projection, this self deprecation was something familiar to you. You’d seen it many times.

“Hey.” You softly spoke, tapping the backs of his hands that covered his eyes with your thumbs. “Hey, look at me.”

He let out a soft, defiant noise. A sense of conflict in his tone as he took a deep, shaken breath in, his whole body shaking. He softly shook his head, fighting himself before he pulled his hands away, his eyes still shut. He took another shaken breath in before meeting your eyes with his red ones from between his brows.

You tried not to have a reaction to the sight of blood across his features, a black eye already forming around his left eye. Speckles of blood across his cheek that was likely not his. You kept a soft expression, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Hi.” You softly smiled, grabbing his hands in your own, his grip loose. “You wanna talk to me?”

He stared at you for a moment. His gaze flickered between your eyes and the floor before he softly shook his head, a scowl forming on his lips. His chest kept its rapid pace, breathing hard through his nose as he fought through his emotions.

“No- just- I don’t wanna do that.” He whispered. Your chest lightly ached at the look on his face, the lack of trust. As if he didn’t recognize you, as if you had betrayed him.

You understood why he felt that way. He’d been abandoned by so, so many people. Just as many had betrayed him, made him think he wasn’t worth anything. You’d never let him feel that way again, not as long as you were around.

“Hey- hey. It’s me.” You whispered, trying to place yourself in his view so that he could see your eyes. See the truth within them. “It’s me.”

“Y/n- I can’t-“ He whispered again, desperation clear in his voice.

“That’s fine.” You gently squeezed his hands, relieved when he returned a soft squeeze back. “You know what you can do for me?”

He met your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You softly smiled. “Come on, handsome.”

You removed your right hand from his grasp, placing it in the middle of his chest. In a motion of demonstration, you took a deep breath in before letting it fall from your lips in an equal manner. You could see the reluctance in his eyes before he took in a deep, but unequal breath, but he was still trying.

You took in another deep breath, feeling the way his chest raised beneath your palm before easing into a more even release. The shuddered nature of his breath slowly eased into a normal pattern, the tension in his features fading away as the panic in his body released.

“There we go, that’s good.” You whispered.

He placed a hand on top of the one resting against his chest, curling his fingers around it and pulling it to his lips, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he just breathed deep, taking in every drop of you as it brought him back to calm. He gently brushed his lips against your knuckles, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin.

Before you could say another word, his hands wrapped around your hand and upper arm and he tugged you towards him, pressing your cheek against his shoulder as your legs collapsed under you and your body fell subject to his needy grasp. You let him hold you close, finding your own comfort in the action.

You couldn’t help but softly smile as he let you back in. You knew this, you knew him. It wasn’t anything personal. He’s just been hurt a lot.

His fingers delved into your hair, drawing gentle circles as if he was comforting you in return. Your eyes trailed across his features. His now open eyes were staring ahead and the panic across his features seemed almost entirely gone, his breathing now steady. His heart was beating softly under your ear, a steady and even pace.

You placed a gentle hand on the bicep of one of the arms that was wrapped around you. You drew gentle circles, bringing him to a state of calm. Your breathing came to a sync, a guiding force to ground him. To show him that there was someone here to care for him. That you cared for him.

His head finally turned to meet your gaze, the tension in his face gone and replaced by something softer. The furrow in his brows was now because of something deeper, a grateful expression that filled his entire demeanor. He took in a deep breathe, bringing his hand stroke his knuckles against your cheek.

You softly smiled, leaning into his touch.

He leaned forwards, both of your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he pressed his lips against yours. You relished in the feeling, glad to have him back with you in this feeling of trust and care. He let the kiss linger before slowly pulling away, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment before pulling back to meet your eyes.

“Th-thank you.” He softly uttered.

“You wanna talk to me?” You softly tried again.

He softly nodded, pulling his gaze away from you for a moment as he took in a deep breath. There was a clear hesitation on his face. He knew that he should say it, say what he was feeling even if it was hard, really hard.

“Today was… really bad. I had a job to do and I promised that I would succeed, that i’m worthy. I can handle anything. I never miss, I never ever even waver but today..” He took a deep breath in, his breathing shaken. “I failed. It was a stupid mistake. And these thoughts.. they were in buzzing around in my head about- about-“

“It’s okay.” You softly encouraged, gently stroking a line across his jaw to tell him to keep going, but to breathe.

His eyes met yours and that look in his eyes made your heart ache. He softly frowned. “I started thinking about you. How I felt like I hadn’t just failed the FBI but also you. I should have done better- I could have. It should’ve been perfect. I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

You softly smiled. “Dex, I don’t want you just to do things to make me happy, you know that. You didn’t fail, not to me. It’s just a small mistake-“

“It’s not small- it matters to me. Okay?”

“Okay.” You whispered, gently dragging your finger across his jaw again.

His eyes had reddened, his lips parted as he fought to stay composed. “I thought that it would cost me. That I’d lose you because of it. When I came home- you weren’t here. You were gone for so long and I thought… I thought that i’d been right. That you’d left.”

“I didn’t. I’m here, i’ll always be here.” You softly promised.

“I know.” He whispered. “But a part of me didn’t believe it and I felt like I deserved it. That it was gonna happen eventually. You’d leave, just like everyone else.”

You frowned, turning his gaze to meet yours with a gentle nudge. “Dex, I’d never do that. I promise you. I know you’ve been hurt a lot and I would do anything to fix that, to give you the life you need. I can’t change anything but i’ll do everything in my power to make sure you know that I care about you. More than you realize.”

He let out a sigh of relief, gently nodding. You really hoped he believed your words entirely, you wanted him to see that you really meant those words. That every utterance was a declaration of truth.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He breathed out.

“I do.” You lightly teased. “And it’s a good thing i’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not.” He spoke. You could sense in his tone that he was serious, a darkness in it that only you really understood. You knew what would happen if you somehow left him, if he was left alone. The chaos that would unfold. The people that would get hurt.

You leaned forwards to press another soft kiss to his lips, letting your fingers curl around the back of his neck and into the short hairs that sat there. You could feel the small shiver as he melted into your touch. His hand curled around your hip, his fingers pressing into the soft meat.

His hand pressed to the floor between you two and his movements paused as he touched the handle of the kitchen knife you had brought in here as a method of self defense in case of some crazed intruder. He pulled away, eyebrows comically furrowed as he glanced down.

“Why did you have a knife?” He softly asked, a light sense of worry in his tone. He was worried you’d brought this in to defend yourself against him.

“I thought someone broke in.” You sheepishly admitted.

He smiled, his eyes scanning your face with an amused admiration. “You and I both know they’d be dead before the window opened.”

You smiled and nodded, letting out a gentle laugh in unison with his as you leaned forwards to press your lips to his again and let your bodies melt further into each other. You let him guide you downwards, your spine pressing to the cold floor as he cupped your face.

You would never hurt him. You would never let him face abandonment again. You’d show him the love he deserves, no matter what it took.

[poindexterpng]

[softestaries]

"you're one bad day away from being me" cut to Daredevil pushing Dex off that roof

[andaniellight]

The mental scenario of Frank, already all grumpy and aching from age, complaining about how annoying Matt is for tailing him while Matt, despite, true, being a little shit he is, is actually too bothered to tease him because of the fact that Dex is aLSO TAILING HIM AS DAREDEVIL ALL LOUD AND PROUD AT THE SAME TIME

[wolvieshairypussy]

[redpool]

The Thunderbolts line we (I) got:

The Thunderbolts line up, I (me) deserved:

Would have also accepted in the line up:

[novagif]

Daredevil: Born Again (2025)

[marvelsgirl616]

╰☆☆ 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 “𝐝𝐞𝐱” 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬 ☆☆╮

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥: 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟏 𝐞𝐩. 𝟏

[amberlynnmurdock]

Dressing Room

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader Insert

Summary: Dex takes guarding your dressing room at Lululemon a little too seriously.

Genre: FLUFF and a little angst

Note: I'm sorry if this isn't my strongest! I felt like writing a cute little something for Dexy since he's BACK!!!! <3 <3 my DDBA thoughts will have to be another post. ENJOY!

Dex guards the door with his arms crossed in front of him, suspiciously eyeing every person who walks by. It’s reminiscent of the missions he’s been placed on in the past—guarding the door for witness protection, guarding the door of a criminal. It's the same concept, really. Make sure no one gets to whoever is behind the door he guards. Deathly stare at anyone who even glances in his direction. 

A bead of sweat trickles down his back from the heat in the room. Every muscle in his body tenses at every sound he hears. Boots scuffing the wood-paneled floor, paper ripping—all send his heart rate skyrocketing and his eyes scanning the room obsessively for any kind of threat. It was important to him that he be aware of anything and everything. It was important to him that people know he sees them. 

An older woman approaches him. Before she can say anything, Dex holds out his hand to stop her. 

“This dressing room is occupied,” he says in his FBI agent authoritative voice. His eyes darken at her audacity. The woman cowers at his stern, unfriendly look and quickly walks away with shirts draped over her arm—as she should, Dex thinks. 

“Sir,” a male voice comes from his side. “I’m the manager. You don’t work here. I’m going to have to ask you to not scare our customers in the dressing room if you’re not trying anything on. There’s no reason for you to be standing here.” 

No reason? Dex looks at the man but hides his incredulous look. Dex has every reason to be standing in front of the dressing room you’re in—he has to make sure you’re safe. 

“I’m waiting for my girlfriend,” Dex states without a flinch, tightening his arms in front of his chest. 

“You can wait for her on the couches in the middle of the room,” the manager explained calmly. “You don’t need to guard the door.”

Frustration bloomed in Dex’s chest. What was so hard to understand? “Yes, I do. I need to make sure she’s safe.” 

“Sir, this is a Lululemon.” 

“Dex?” You open the door ajar to peek at Dex, standing in his FBI-esque stature, arms crossed and deathly glaring at anyone and everyone. Now, the manager fell victim to such a harsh glare. When Dex heard your voice, it was the only moment his expression softened. He looked at you attentively, as if the manager wasn’t there. “Could you tell me if you like this jacket?” 

Dex looked from you to the manager beside him, watching him suspiciously. When no one said a word, you sighed in exasperation and looked at the manager.

“Can my boyfriend please help me in the dressing room? He’ll be out once I get his opinion.”

“Sure,” the manager said. “But please also tell him to stop scaring our guests away.”

“I will,” you flashed a smile at him as he walked away. You uncrossed Dex’s arms and grabbed his hand, leading him into the dressing room. You shut the door, and Dex beat you to locking it. 

“Dex,” you said softly. “Why are you scaring people away?” You asked with an amused smile on your face. You were used to him being protective—you found it very endearing that he acted somewhat like your personal bodyguard, even if you were at a casual establishment like Lululemon. Dex’s face softened as he sighed.

“I just want to make sure no one will walk in on you,” Dex said. “I’m sorry if I was aggressive.”

“No, it’s okay,” you laughed, giving his upper bicep a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate how protective you are over me.”

Dex shrugged. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe,” you affirmed. “Whenever I’m with you.” 

Dex smiled and held your gaze for a moment. You shrugged and tugged at the seams of the jacket you tried on.

“Well, what do ya think?” You asked him, breaking eye contact to look at yourself in the mirror. Dex was still looking at you, but as if snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at your torso and analyzed the jacket. 

“It looks perfect on you,” Dex said, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

“Thank you, Dex. Do you like the black? Maybe I should try on the blue. Could you get me the light blue one out there? It’s called the Define jacket.”

Although he was captivated by how you looked, he still registered your command. “I’ll find it.”

He left you in the dressing room as he made his way back out to the main floor. The manager who scolded him before stared him down, but Dex wasn’t intimidated—he’s had much worse foes. He ignored his glare as he made his way to the table that read: Define Jacket. He found a light blue one in your size. 

Dex walked back to the dressing room area and stopped in his tracks when he saw your dressing room empty, door wide open. His alertness set in as his heart rate skyrocketed again, and this time, he was reminded of every person in his life who’d abandoned him without warning. His parents, his therapist… and now, you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone again. A deep heaviness settled in his chest, a deep sense of longing he hadn’t felt in a while overcame him at the missing sight of you. Where did you go? Dex could barely hold onto the jacket he grabbed for you. 

Were you taken? He knew this would happen—he shouldn’t have left you alone. You, your kindness, he knew could be taken advantage of so easily. He didn’t care that this was just an establishment—nowhere is guaranteed safe. That’s what they taught him in training. Suddenly, he felt an intense resentment towards the manager who berated him for standing in front of your door. This is why he “scaring” guests—this is why he was protecting you. 

No, Dex thought. It’s nobody’s fault but his. It’s his fault you slipped from his grasp—it was always his fault. The minute he found the person who took you from—Dex was already planning the ways he’d make them pay. He’s counting each hanger that hangs inside the empty dressing room—it’s how many times he’ll throw it at whoever took you from him. There wasn’t any sadness at your disappearance anymore—he felt rage. Fixated on the hangers and how easily they would slip from his fingers. 

“Dex,” he heard you call his name, and just like that—as quick as a switch—all his anxieties disappeared. Something fluttered in his chest. There you were, standing in front of a large mirror, trying on a light blue tennis dress. Your hair was disheveled from throwing the dress on, but you looked beautiful in Dex’s eyes. Angelic, even—just looking at you brought a feeling in Dex he’s not used to. At first, it was scary, but then it was just…silent. Peaceful. Only you were capable of making him even taste that feeling. “Come here,” you said. 

Dex does as he’s told but doesn’t just stop to look at you and give his opinion—you could wear anything and he would think it’s the loveliest thing. Dex wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight against him—his fears from before coming to the front of his mind. He thought he lost you. He can’t experience that feeling again.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. He feels you tentatively wrap your arms around him, embracing his hold. 

“I’m sorry,” Dex said, “I thought you were gone.”

“Gone?” You giggled against him. “Where would I have gone?”

“I don’t know,” Dex mumbled in your hair.

“I’m right here.” You pulled back from his embrace to brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. 

Dex suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes—ashamed of his paranoia and for thinking the worst. “I got your jacket in blue,” Dex muttered, holding up the soft article of clothing on his arm. 

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you like this dress on me? Your opinion matters to me, you know.”

His opinion matters to you. He matters. Dex looks at you again, and then he takes a step back, fully realizing the image in front of him. You looking at him like he’s the most important thing in the world, and he looking at you like you’re the most beautiful—because you are, to him. 

“It’s perfect,” Dex says quietly. It’s all he can say. The adrenaline of his paranoia from before exhausted him. You knew him well enough to know he was fighting an internal battle. And he was trying his best to hide it from you.

“Take a seat, Dex. I’m all finished up here. Let me change back into my clothes, pay and then we’ll go home,” you said softly. You pressed a soft kiss on his cheek and guided him to sit on the couches in the middle of the dressing room. 

Dex sat down at your command. In front of him was the mirror—he met his own eyes and quickly looked away. When you closed the door to your dressing room, Dex quietly got up to instead sit in front of your door, on the couch that faced it. He waited for you patiently there—just in case. 

[bugbugboy]

I love it when the blorbo makes me draw them

Wilson Bethel as Benjamin 'Dex' Poindexter aka Bullseye in Daredevil Born Again

[midnightslark]

I’m super chill about Benjamin Poindexter, like super cusual about him, like i’m sooo cool about his whole thing and like I don’t even think about him that much like it’s so chill and i’m just a chill guy y’k, he’s just like there in my head sometimes, all the time maybe but i’m like it’s fine it’s really cool and he’s super cool and super hot and he makes me feel things but it’s okay bc I don’t even react that much it’s just like a lil giggle as he sits in the back of my head like a little voice telling me to do things like daydream about him in a super cool nonchalant way that’s not cringe at all bc i just kinda like him yk but not in a weird way it’s like fine yk what i mean

[poindexterpng]

i spent an unbelievable amount of time tier ranking the marvel characters and i have no one to share it with so im posting it here