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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

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Are You Bored Yet? - Benjamin Poindexter

Anonymous said: Hi!! Can I request some more Poindexter x reader? I’ve read ever fanfic on this website and I’m so sad that the amount of fanfics for him is so limited! Maybe some more dark, Dex stalking the reader but the reader falling for Dex and everything goes according to his plan! I’ve fallen down the Dex hole

AN: It’s been a while since I’ve written for Dex! I hope I did him justice! (I will forever be bitter that we will not see him and DareDevil in the same way again)

This was not part of Dex’s plan. Hell, the idea of it set him on edge. With his occupation, his senses were used to overloads. The sound of gunfire and flashing lights did little in the ways of hindering him during his working hours. Outside of his schedule, well, it was different.

Different meaning near piercing. There was noise everywhere. Crashing, geering, shattering, all of it all at once. It took everything Dex had not to cover his ears. That day he learned that he hated arcades. There was nothing worth the smell, the sounds, any of it.

Except you. You were worth it all and that confused him.

How could someone like you, all collected and cool, work at a place so obnoxious? The answer alluded Dex, taunted him, teased him with the tilt of your smile. When he learned where you worked, he almost lost his tether to you. Yet, he found himself watching you smile at people under the neon lights and assault of noise almost daily now.

Dex pulled the brim of his cap down as he stepped further inside. You were behind the ticket counter bartering with a gaggle of loudly dressed children. Despite how annoying they were, how annoying Dex assumed all children were, you were smiling. It, no, you amazed him. If he could, he would watch you smile like that all-

“Fuck off, loser!”

“Hey!”

Dex forced himself to take a long, barely steadying breath before turning to face the high-pitched yelling. When he finally opened his eyes, his gaze was assaulted by the flashing, gold lights of ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ and the pair of children fighting there. An older looking girl was pushing away a younger boy until the basketball in his hand fell. The orange ball rolled over to Dex, bouncing slightly, almost to the beat of the game’s music.

“You can’t shoot for shit.”

Dex reached down, hands gripping the ball tightly as he listened. The young boy was growing red in the face, tears welling up in his eyes. For a moment, Dex saw himself. He could feel the sting of rejection and twinge of fear as if it were his own.

As if to prove that he was real, that the boy he once was was truly no more, Dex effortlessly threw the ball. His aim was sharp as always, the impact ever-so satisfying. There was a sudden silence around him as eyes turned to study him; but Dex was focused on the ball, where it had hit.

So neatly, the ball ran circles around the edge of the hoop before dipping inside. The older girl stared at him wide eyed as points were awarded to the younger boy. It was just enough to put the boy’s score ahead, winning the game. The children turned then, still in a stunned silence, to study Dex. The girl looked furious.

Slowly, Dex walked up to the pair, crouching down before them. He locked eyes with the girl and he could see her resolve melting. Now the fear was hers.

“Cheating will get you no where,” Dex said lowly, “because there will always be someone better than you.” The children blinked at him, dumbfounded. “Run along now.”

Dex stood up as the two kids ran off. With a little more quiet, he found himself set a little more at ease. He turned his head only slightly to peer back at you. For a moment, in the din of jingling tokens and game sound effects, Dex swore you were looking at him. Yet, with his senses so overwhelmed, he convinced himself he imagined it and turned away.

Just leave, he thought, just fucking go. There was other things he could be doing, new regimes he could follow to distract himself from you. Hell, the new routines could even prove to be grounding. Dex needed stability. He turned to glance back at you.

You were talking to a frazzled looking mother and a very young girl pointing at a stuffed pony. Despite the obvious annoyance, you were smiling. It was a steady smile, one that Dex would have to practice in the mirror to get just right. You were the stability he lacked and Dex couldn’t leave you.

He let out a sigh and eyed the tokens that rest beside the ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ game. The dumb kids left them there. They wouldn’t be back for them and Dex had time to kill before you shift ended. He would walk you home, well, a few paces behind, then. He had to make sure you were safe. There was too much going on, too much at stake.

Leaning down, Dex picked up one of the tokens and stepped up to the game. The coin slid into the slot and the game’s music started up again. He picked up the ball as the timer began and took aim. With an ease that never needed practice, Dex made a basket.

Many, many baskets later, and Dex took note of how much the noise in the arcade had died down. Most of the evening crowd had funneled out the door when the first stars began poking out in the dark sky. Now, it was a scattered few teenagers and desperate adults clinging to what they could; and Dex. Though, he was clinging to something, someone, too.

But your shift still wasn’t over yet so Dex continued racking up the points in ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’. It was so easy to get lost in the movement. Though, it wasn’t as fluid as throwing knives or axes. It reminded Dex of a simpler time. A time when-

“Are you bored yet?”

Dex felt a rush of heat wash over his back and shoulders. Slowly, he turned around to see you, with those eyes of yours, studying him. Dex gripped the basketball tightly as an automated voice entreated him to continue on with the game.

“I…”

“You’ve been shooting hoops for a while now and we’re closing in a few minutes.”

“Oh, sorry, I just,” Dex set the basketball down to mask the shakiness of his voice. He needed to get a grip. “I just lost track of time.”

“It’s alright,” there was that smile again. Dex felt his lips pull up too, just a little. Every other sound around you melted away then, leaving him just with you.

For a moment, he thought maybe he could smile and mean it truly. Before he could, suddenly, your eyes widened and Dex felt like he was going to be sick. Did you recognize him from all the times he had snooped around? This was it. This was his worst fear realized: he was going to lose you before even knowing you.

“You have a ton of tickets! I didn’t even know that ‘Shoot ‘Em Up’ could grant that many! Do you want to exchange them?” Dex traced your gaze and saw the mass of tiny, connected slips of paper spilling out of the machine. How long had he been playing?

“I-sure. Yeah, I’ll exchange them.”

You were smiling at him again and Dex felt his chest tighten. Wordlessly, he followed you to the counter where he had seen you working before. The stuffed animals along the wall were largely picked over save for a large giraffe and a few colorful creatures Dex didn’t dare claim to know. The display case too was sparse aside from an array of tacky rings. As you moved behind the case, Dex piled his tickets on the counter.

“Can you find the end of your tickets for me? I can put them in the machine to count them then.” You were cleaning up as you spoke and Dex couldn’t take his eyes off you. So close, so terribly close. When you turned around, Dex forced himself to look away.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Dex began to fumble with the tickets. After a moment, you stepped closer to him, hands reaching out near his.

“Here, let me help you.”

You began skimming the edges of the tickets with your fingers, searching, as Dex was, for the stub-end. At one point, your hand brushed against his and he swore that a jolt of electricity jumped between your bodies. Eventually, you found the end of the tickets and fed it into the counting machine. The silence was filled by the sound of the tickets being eaten up with a horribly robotic crunching sound emanating from a nearby speaker.

“I’ve seen you around here a lot.” You did recognize him. Dex tried to keep himself steady; something that came easier, somehow, with you so close.

“Yeah, I, my friend told me about this place.” It was a lie that he had practiced. He thought of Nadeem. A friend. “His kid had a birthday here.”

“You have kids?”

“No,” Dex couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up his throat. It was a bitter one but he muscled through it. “I don’t. Probably shouldn’t.”

“After working here,” you sighed heavily, “I think you might have the right idea. They’re a handful. I mean, that kid you stopped from bullying the other one, earlier. Kids can be mean.”

“You saw that?” So, you had noticed him, watched him even. A spark of hope set Dex’s veins aflame. The feeling only intensified when he noticed a wave of shyness hit you. You were curling in on yourself slightly now and all he wanted to do was reach out to you.

“Yeah, they were causing a bit of scene. If it wasn’t for you, I would have had to go over and separate them. So, uh, thanks for doing my job. It was sweet of you too, defending that boy.”

You met his gaze for a long moment, only breaking the contact when the ticket counter read off a total that Dex would be embarrassed to admit. He had gotten himself into a zone, honed focus. ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ had officially proven itself to be a dangerous game.

“How did you get that many?” You asked in disbelief.

“Would you believe me if I said I played sports as a kid?” Dex bit the inside of his cheek. It was really a lie. A partial truth. He couldn’t remember the last time he had played any sport.

“I mean yeah,” you shook your head, “you might want to consider going pro.” Dex put on a smile, though it was easier with you to wear it. “If the arcade plans on hosting a tournament, let me know. I’ll be the first to sign up.”

“I could add you quicker if I know your name,” you pointed out. Dex couldn’t help but pick up on how soft your voice had sounded. Your lips formed the words so carefully, almost as if you too had to practice what you were going to say.

“Dex,” he replied. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. “How did you…”

Shit. Dex could feel the ground beneath his feet begin to crumble. His eyes danced along your face, your neck, your chest, and then he saw it. His way out.

“It’s on your uh, name tag.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just-long day and all.” Dex smiled at your new nervousness, a smile that, for once, felt almost natural.

“It’s alright, you’ve got good reason to be paranoid.” You met his gaze then, an eyebrow raised in question. “Kids can be mean, and all.”

“Yeah,” you let out a breathy laugh, one that made Dex’s insides feel light as air. “So, you have a around a two thousand tickets. You can get just about everything, except for the giraffe.”

“Damn,” Dex leaned against the counter, trying to be more comfortable. “That was what I wanted. Just a few tickets short...anything you recommend?”

“Well, there’s these,” you pointed at the rings in the display case. “Perfect for a engagement, if you ask me, and then there’s these.” You stretched your arms up to the stuffed animals fastened to the wall behind the counter. “You could get a few of those.”

“Hmm…”

Dex felt a twinge in his stomach. There was pulling, a coaxing, in his chest. He knew most people called it bravery but Dex knew it best as adrenaline. It was just a chemical reaction in his body taking place as it should; but with you, he could almost believe is was something more.

“How many tickets for having coffee with you sometime?” The question fell from his lips without a second thought, something Dex started to regret as you fell silent. “That was...I was too forward. I’m-”

“A hundred tickets,” you murmured. Dex’s heart began to race.

“Just a hundred?”

“As long as you buy the drinks.”

“Coffee, tea, you name it,” Dex replied. A half smile pulled at his lips. There was no faking here, no mask in sight. Right then, it was just you and him.

“Well then,” you held out your hand, “hundred tickets please.”

“Gladly,” Dex said, handing you what looked like a hundred or so odd tickets. It was finally paying off. The weeks of waiting, watching, and studying was all finally gathering into one moment. One agreement, one minute of Dex’s life that he would treasure forever.

You ripped off one of the tickets and grabbed a pen. Dex watched as you scribbled something on the tiny slip of blue paper. When you were finished, you handed it back to him.

“Here’s my number. Let me know when you’re free.” Dex took the slip from you, his finger tips brushing slightly against yours.

“Thanks,” Dex said, gripping tightly to the paper. He looked up and met yours eyes. You were staring at him but not in the way he was used to people staring at him. Normally, when people looked at Dex, it was because he wasn’t normal. People could sense it and Dex knew that you could too; but you smiled, stared at him softly anyway.

“I’m glad you didn’t get bored.” Dex’s brows furrowed. “Bored with ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ that is. You stuck around.”

“Yeah, I am too.”

Yes, Dex thought, he couldn’t have planned it better than this. He was willing to take this slow for you. Coffee first, stability later. He could never get bored with you.

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banditthewriter · 5 years

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Rumor Has It - Benjamin Poindexter

Prompt: I know you haven't really written for Dex but could you maybe try something where the reader also works for the FBI and has a crush on Dex but is good at overplaying it but at a celebration of a closed case or something like that you're letting it slip to colleagues and from there on they are teasing Dex in a subtle way but it takes a while till he is getting it. you can decide how he's going to react. maybe you can make something out of that, would def be cool! Prompter: Anonymous

First real try for Dex, so I hope you like it!

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

The first time you met Benjamin Poindexter—”Call me Dex, please,”—you were immediately attracted to him. He was handsome and had a similar sense of humor to you. And you kind of thought that he might be interested in you by the way he watched you or the way that he seemed to focus on you in a crowd, but he never made a move. Even when you tried to telegraph your attraction and availability.

As time went by, you realized he was probably actually oblivious to your attraction. He was a little socially stunted at times although he could fake it with the best of them. You appreciated his awkwardness because it showed you that he was human.

And of course as you worked with him more and more over the next months, you realized that the two of you worked well together. You could sense each other’s next moves and could adjust accordingly.

The higher ups had noticed and put the two of you together often. It became a constant test of your willpower to not show the fact that you were a little head over heels for a guy that barely seemed to consider you as an romantic object at all.

The one time you mentioned having a date, he had just said “ah, yeah,” and went to grab coffee for the two of you. That was a good indicator that he wasn’t interested. That was when you decided to pack up your feelings for him and shove them way down deep.

The case wasn’t one of yours and Dex’s, but it was a good enough reason for everyone to gather at the bar nearby to celebrate. It had been high profile and grueling. Even though you weren’t on the case officially, everyone had pitched in.

“First round on me?”

You glanced over to where Dex was sitting, his back rigid. You knew his training was telling him to case the bar, to do a sweep and check the entrances. Your training was telling you the same thing but his was rooted in a military background as well.

“Sure thing,” you said as you tapped your fingers on the table. “The usual?”

He gave you a short nod before he shot out of his seat and made his way to the bar. You shook your head fondly as you watched him move.

That man was something else. He had a bunch of idiosyncrasies that had taken you a while to figure out. But you counted yourself lucky to get to know these things about him; none of the other agents you worked with knew him as well as you did.

“What’s that dopey grin about?” One of the other agents, Daniel, settled into the seat that Dex had just vacated. “You look like the drug sniffing dogs after a good find.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said with a grin. “Nah, just happy. It’s been a good evening.”

Your eyes sought out Dex once more. He was at the bar waiting to be served. His eyes were on you and the moment they met yours, he gave you a nod that you knew meant he was asking if you were okay.

With a nod back to show that you were fine, you looked over to Daniel who was giving you a calculating look.

“I have a theory,” he said as he turned to face you fully.

“Oh, a theory? Whatcha got?”

Daniel was known around the office for his theories. They were usually complete bullshit, but they were entertaining. And you could use something to make you laugh.

“I think you are hot under the collar for Dex,” he said with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder in Dex’s direction. “I’ve been compiling evidence to support my theory if you’re interested.”

You somehow felt hot and cold all over at the same time. Your eyes darted back to Dex but he was talking to the bartender.

“You don’t have evidence,” you said a little desperately.

You should have denied it instead.

“I’ll add that to the evidence,” he joked as he leaned forward a bit. “I’ve got seven pieces right now. Want to hear them?”

Did you? You almost wanted to so that you could tear them down bit by bit. And also so that you would know what you needed to stop doing.

If Daniel knew, did anyone else? Did Dex?

That thought made you feel a little lightheaded. You were tense and you could see your hands were clenched in fists on the table top.

“Hey Y/N, you okay?” Dex came over to your other side and put your beer in front of you.

His voice and presence at your side made your shoulders drop a bit. Even your hands unclenched before you reached out to grab the proffered beer.

“Make that eight,” Daniel teased as he stood up. He saluted Dex before he gave you a wink and turned to leave.

Dex looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What was that about?”

You rubbed the back of your neck as you took a long sip from your beer. Mainly to give you a moment to think of something to say.

“You know Daniel; he never makes sense.”

Dex nodded slowly before he turned to face forward. In the distance Daniel was watching the two of you. When he saw you looking, he held up eight fingers and winked once more.

Was it just your imagination or did Dex shift further away from you?

This wasn’t good. You needed to tell Daniel to stop. You didn’t want to lose your partner over some stupid feelings that you had mostly learned to ignore.

You didn’t want to take the chance. Why ruin it?

------

You were off for a few days after the celebration. It just happened to fall around your approved time off so after a night of drinking, you'd be off work for another five days.

One plan had been to meet up with Dex for food one night. The two of you usually met together at least once a week to eat, so it wasn't a surprise. But instead of the usual reminder, you got a text from him to cancel.

Can't tonight. Work. I'll see you back at the office.

He wasn't even trying to reschedule. You typed out a response that you'd see him at the office, but you hesitated before you sent it.

Dex had impeccable manners; he wouldn't just cancel without either explaining why or rescheduling instead.

You deleted your first response and typed something else.

That’s okay. Is something wrong?

You were cleaning the eyes of your stove when the response came about.

Nothing's wrong. Just working.

You typed back a quick okay and went back to scrubbing your stove. Cleaning helped relax you and for some reason you were on edge that evening.

Later you decided to send a text to another agent to ask if they wanted to get drinks. Boredom spurred you forward as you sent the message to Daniel of all people.

He agreed and gave you a pub nearby. And he promised that he'd invite some of the other agents so that you wouldn't mistake it for a date.

Ha ha, very funny. See you in 20!

When you walked in the door, you could see a group of your fellow agents towards the back. You started to wave to get their attention but immediately froze when you saw a familiar face.

Dex. He said he was working.

Maybe he got off early and figured you would have other plans. Or maybe this was a working dinner break?

But no, he had a beer in his hand and he never drank on the clock. He was listening intently to what one of the others at the table was saying, nodding along.

Well. You tried to push down the hurt. It shouldn't count as rejection since you two were just friends, but that's what it felt like.

“Wanna come join or you just gonna stare all night?”

You flinched as you turned to look to your left where Daniel was standing. He looked almost guilty.

“How long has Dex been here?”

He grinned as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to steer you towards the group.

“Should've known that would be your first question. He got here about ten minutes ago. Come with Birkhoff and Taylors.”

At that point you were near enough that Dex turned to look to see who was approaching. And while he could usually keep his face pretty devoid of emotions, you could see surprise on his face.

And maybe something else. Fear perhaps? Or worry.

“Y/N,” he began but you just gave him a smile as you settled in between Daniel and another agent in the other side of the table.

The next thirty minutes was spent pretending you couldn't feel his gaze on you. You focused solely on Daniel and Roger, the two agents closest to you. It was easy because they were both great guys, but it didn't take away the knowledge that Dex was staring at you.

It did take you a while to notice that when he wasn't staring at you, it was because he was glaring at someone nearby. Someone… no, he was glaring at Daniel.

“I'm gonna go up to the bar, do you need anything?”

Daniel gave a quick shake of his head. You grabbed your wallet and phone and headed to the bar. It was packed now so you would have to wait a moment before you could get your drink.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said from your side, “I wanted to talk to you.”

You scoffed and continued to stare at the bar. From the corner of your eye, Dex shifted before he moved to stand in front of you.

“Will you let me explain?”

“There's nothing to explain,” you reasoned with a shrug of your shoulder. “You don't owe me an explanation Dex. We’re just friends. Partners really.”

You missed the look on his face as you moved around him to order your drink. As you waited for it, you glanced over you shoulder and saw that Dex was still there.

“Are you saying we aren't friends?”

You sighed and turned to face him.

“Of course we are Dex. We are friends that lie about not wanting to hang out with each other. It's fine. Thanks,” you added to the bartender as he handed you your drink.

You only got a few steps away before his voice stopped you again.

“There was something traveling through the office,” he said as he moved closer to you, his voice low. “I think Daniel started it. It was probably just supposed to be a joke, but I think it got out of hand.”

Your eyes darted over to where Daniel was sitting. He met your eyes and you saw that guilty look from before.

Did he spread the fact that you cared about Dex around to your coworkers? You were going to kill him.

You spun around to face Dex and gave him a timid smile.

“I can explain,” you promised.

“You don't have to explain. It's not your fault,” he explained sadly, his eyes darting to his hands. “I thought I was better at hiding my feelings but somehow he figured it out. I just didn't want to face you now that you know.”

Wait. What?

“Wait, what?”

He looked up and met your eyes.

“I heard him saying something about you knowing and it being obvious? Did you… did you not know?”

This time when you glanced over at Daniel, he was grinning at you.

“That asshole,” you muttered before you grabbed Dex’s hand and dragged him outside. “He was being purposefully vague. He must have known that you were listening. He didn't mean that I knew about your feelings. He was saying that I hadn't known about my own feelings. Feelings for you.”

Dex’s eyes grew wide. He looked at the door of the pub and then back to you.

“Oh,” he said slowly as the information sunk in. And then he said it again, drawing the word out as he started to grin. “You have feelings for me, huh?”

You shoved his arm but he didn't budge.

“You have feelings for me,” you retorted.

He smiled and ducked his head down for a moment. It was such a surprising, sweet gesture. Then he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours in possibly the softest kiss you'd ever experienced.

“We may need to get new partners,” he said as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Oh?” It made sense but you were still disappointed. But the glow in his eyes told you that he was probably joking. “I wonder if Daniel is available.”

You pulled away like you were going to go back into the pub. Dex tugged you back into his arms and kissed you long and deep.

New partners made sense in the long term, but the two of you made a good pair even with these feelings. Why ruin it?

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#benjamin poindexter #benjamin poindexter x reader #dex x reader #benjamin poindexter imagine #dex imagine #benjamin poindexter fanfic #dex fanfic #my writing #requests

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manicr · 2 years

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Chapters: 24/30 Fandom: Dark Avengers (Comic), Dark Wolverine (Comics), Marvel (Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Daken Akihiro/Lester | Bullseye, Brock Rumlow /Lester | Bullseye

Chapter 24: Shy

Summary:

Daken buys a painting to hire a killer. Some things left behind aren’t easily picked up again.

Warnings: graphic sexual content, canon typical violence, dubious consent, toxic relationship, jealousy, racism. Imagined threesome.

#manicr writes #fanfic #daken #bullseye #daken akihiro #asshole otp #bullsnikt #benjamin poindexter #lester

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teal-bandit · 3 years

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Lester had meant for this to be a celebration--a night of fun to celebrate the anniversary of one of his greatest personal achievements. He vaguely remembers going into the Bar With No Name, finding a seat next to Masters, and ordering… how many beers had he ordered? Six? Ten? He isn't sure anymore; Tony had started switching shit on him, ordering drinks he can't even remember the names of. After that, things get kind of blurry. He remembers making a phone call, but he can't think of who the hell he'd call on a night like tonight.

Well, maybe the guy who's got him half-slung over his shoulder, walking him back to his apartment now that it's past closing time. He giggles at the notion--he makes one single phone call and it's to the one guy he swears wouldn't have a phone half the time. Or doesn't, Lester doesn't know. He doesn't care either. He cares that he's here. This guy would totally get it, what tonight has been about; he'd understand why Lester wants to celebrate. He'd understand why, as soon as they got through the door of his apartment in Brooklyn, he poured him a double Scotch, pushing it into his hand.

"Here you go, Junior. Now, you drink up, you gotta make up for lost time," Lester slurs, taking one of his… friends? He's a friend, yeah? They're pals. He takes his pal's hand and wraps it around the glass, earning him an amused, if not confused stare.

"And what, pray tell, darling, have i missed," Daken inquires, swirling the glass, admiring the color of the liquor. He hadn't expected a 3am call from an… old flame. After things had gone south with Norman, Bullseye hadn't been keen on making contact. Tonight must be special.

"I'm celebrating, dontyaknow," Lester grins, swaying slightly from side to side. "One of the best goddamn days of my life, junior. Day I finally put the old man down."

Daken raises an eyebrow and takes a preliminary sip of the scotch, deciding that it's good enough quality to polish off. He'd known for some time that Lester had killed his father, but he hadn't expected the celebration of the event. He raises his glass, toasting Lester, who's finally procured a glass and some scotch of his own.

"I could do yours, too. Fifty dollars, and whatever that fancy coffee shit is you used to make at the tower," the hitman chuckles and knocks back the whole scotch, swaying with the movement. The whole world is floating now, and he feels like he could just tip over and float with it. He starts to hum, rocking back and forth with the tune before getting to the part he can remember.

Daken watches him with amusement. Lester has never failed to be a source of entertainment, in or out of his bed, and he's pleased to learn that the man can carry a tune. Releasing some soothing pheromones, he moves closer, taking another sip of his drink. One hand goes to Lester's ribs while the other holds the glass on his shoulder.

Piercing blue eyes, glassy and dazed though they are with alcohol, lock on to Daken's as he moves the hand at his side, taking it in his own, and placing his other in a similar spot on his friend, still moving unconsciously in time with his singing. He's not surprised when the mutant starts to move along with him, gracefully following his lead as they start moving around the eat-in kitchen.

Daken remembers Lester mentioning liking Louis Prima at one point during their stay in the tower, reaching into his pocket for a moment and pulling out his phone, he cues up a classic jazz playlist, letting the music guide them. He's surprised Lester is as light on his feet this drunk, but the younger man has no problem spinning and dipping him, save for being slightly off-beat.

Over the course of a couple songs, the final scotch starts to take hold of the assassin, making him slower, sluggish. Daken keeps him upright, arms wrapped around his waist while Lester's are wrapped around his neck. Funny to think that, if the man weren't ready to pass out, there's no way something like this would have happened. "Bullseye doesn't dance," he had told him all that time ago, and yet here they are: slow-dancing in Lester's kitchen to the tune of Fats Waller. The romanticism of it makes Daken chuckle; if Lester remembers tonight, he'll be pissed. If he doesn't, well… then Daken has a little secret memory, all to himself.

Ain't misbehavin, savin my love for you, for you, for you, for you...

#Benjamin Poindexter #daken akihiro #bullsnikt #this will go in with the rest of the oneshots on ao3 #but here have some #fanfic #this is the most self-indulgent fluff....#i have no regrets #regular couples: slow dancing to The Way You Look Tonight after a romantic dinber #these assholes: slow dancing to Fats Waller after one of them gets trashed celebrating their dads death day

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clawsofakiller · 3 years

Text

Chapters: 5/5

Fandom: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Daredevil (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), all new all different - Fandom

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Victor Creed/Lester | Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter

Characters: Victor Creed, Lester | Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter

Additional Tags: Out of Character, inverted sabretooth, inverted victor creed - Freeform, past victor creed/monet st.croix, Graphic Description of Corpses, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Breakdown, Mental Anguish, Altered Mental States, Hurt/Comfort, dark humour, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blood Loss, Mild Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Homophobia, Depression, References to Depression, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide, Suicide thoughts, Self-Hatred, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drugs, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalking, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Self-Indulgent, Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov References, Parody, Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Child Death, Spiritual, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Substance Abuse, High Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Death Fantasy, Butterfly, minor fluff, Hugs, Psychopaths In Love, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead People

Summary:

Victor had been stalking Bullseye for four days. Watching his target wander out of that bar in a delirious state, reaching the rock bottom of his form in days, he deemed it was time. He put out the cigar in his mouth, smoothed his jacket and followed quietly.

Finally finished the shit. I can die peacefully now.

#marvel #sabretooth #victor creed #comics #marvel 616 #marvel comics #bullseye #benjamin poindexter #my fanfic writing #my fanfic stuff #my fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanwork #fanwork #fanwork: fanfic #my fanwork

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 2 months

Text

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3176 (chapter 49)

a quick update to break yet another writer's block * sighs *

49. Another night in Hell's Kitchen

"Who's this fancy looking fella?" Foggy asks, taking in Matt's appearance when you two come to the office minutes before the work day begins.

"You like it?" Matt slowly spins around, showing off his new navy blue suit, paired with a dark red tie with small black dots.

"Did you sell your kidney or something to buy this? Jesus, you're making me look like a subway worker." Foggy laughs, coming to touch Matt's suit to feel the material.

"Nah, got a good deal." Matt smiles, adding, "all the glory should go to y/n, she managed to bargain a smaller price."

Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you quickly turn around from Foggy and Karen to hang your coat. "The owner is a friend of my mom and well, your blindness really soothed his character."

"Wait, wait. I think I'm missing something." Foggy stands, one hand on his hips, and intently looks at the two of you. "I think I need an explanation."

"Y/n invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and we raided the shops later." Matt shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal to hang out with an employee... On a holiday. At her parent's house.

"I just couldn't let him be sullen the whole weekend while we're all away." Making way towards the kitchen for coffee, you also escape curious glances, and soon, clients start coming, pilling up in the lobby with Karen. You don't get a chance to talk with Matt until noon, as he spends most of the time with Foggy, talking to clients and running around the lobby to print documents. You, however, continue to work alone in the office until the lunch break, and just when you thought you were all going to grab a bite, and you could have a chance to smoke a cigarette or two, three loud bangs on your office door, ruin all of your plans.

***

"I'm sorry... But your son has been involved in..." you raise your eyebrows at the short-haired black woman and her 16-year-old son, "an armed robbery?"

"Yes, I've already mentioned it four times."

"Sorry, I'm a bit... Not well today. So, Paxton, could you please tell me what exactly happened? If you want to stay out of jail, I need to hear every single detail."

Paxton's mother crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the treatment she was receiving, while Paxton was sitting on one of the armchairs, not particularly bothered by the whole situation. "Nothing. My mother is exaggerating." He shrugs, looking out through the window.

"I'm sorry, he's joking, right sweetheart?" His mother tries to gently touch his arm, but Paxton slides away as far as he can. "He told me everything last night. That's why I came here without an appointment. I noticed how many people are here, I am so glad you could take us in during your break."

"Mrs Harris..." You begin, tapping your pen on your notebook, "enough with the pleasantries. I need the details so I could tell you if I'm able to help you and Paxton. Now, please, talk."

"Remember that article a couple of weeks ago about how five men robbed a jewelry store?" She asks, casting her eyes to the ground; you give her a negative answer and wait for a more detailed explanation. "Well, Paxton was involved in it."

"What did you steal?"

"Rings, necklaces, earrings. I found a box of them in his room." She answers for Paxton.

You look at the boy, noticing a small smirk he just bit away. "What were you planning to do with them, Paxton?"

"Sell. It's all gold." He rolls his eyes.

"Why?"

"I need money." Paxton says in a hurtful tone, sending a glare towards you.

"What for?" Your question hangs in the air heavily. "Why is a teenage boy so in need of money that he must go rob a jewelry store? Tell me, do you work somewhere?"

"No, the money that I bring home is enough." Mrs Harris answers for her son once more, and you look at him in thought.

"Is it drugs, Paxton? You need more money for a dose, don't you?" He stares back at you, visibly irritated. "Is it cocaine? Or marijuana? Do you smoke with your criminal friends after school? Where'd you get the guns from?"

"Excuse me, but these are false accusations, Miss y/l/n, I-"

You hold your hand up, and continue to look right at the boy. "It is drugs. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose. You keep buying those eye drops in hopes of concealing it, but they don't work, do they?"

"Miss-"

"How do you know?" He finally asks after failing the staring contest.

"I had my fair share of experience with drug addicts. Now, if we cleared this one up, where'd you get the guns and who were your accomplices?"

"I can't tell you. I made a promise." He protests in vain.

"Addict's promise is nothing more than an empty talk. Did they threaten you?" You're met with silence and uneasiness from Mrs Harris. "Paxton, we're bound by an attorney-client privilege. Whatever you say, stays in this room. I can only advise what's best for you in court."

"No."

"I think you're lying to me."

"Yes, okay? I had to keep my mouth shut so they would give me my share." You rub your forehead in thought, when Paxton speaks up again, "we found some guns in an abandoned place, it was like a warehouse or something. We only came there to threaten the owner, but then Joey fired a shot and... We didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you hurt someone?"

"No, the bullet went through the display glass, but we got scared and ran away." Paxton was still restricted, but after you assured that it stays between you three, he opened up.

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, we wore masks."

"Can you tell other names? Besides Joey?"

He hesitates, cracking his fingers, afraid to meet his mother's eyes.

***

"He's agreed to help us, in exchange for a full immunity."

"Did he give any names?" Mahoney asks, flipping over the papers.

"All of them." You answer, looking over at Mrs Harris and her son, still in your office. Matt and the rest of the office returned from their lunch break, and Matt was awkwardly hanging around Karen's desk, listening to you and Mahoney talking on the phone from time to time. Karen was pushing him to get a grip and finally start taking money from the clients, rather than doing everything for free; yet he kept pushing back with the same old arguments.

"Well, I need you to come to the station, so we could take the statement, only then I can guarantee a full immunity."

"Alright, we'll see you soon, Sergeant."

***

You enter Josie's before seven, pushing through the thick crowd to the pool tables, old rock music is blaring through the speakers on full volume. Some guy almost spills his drink and starts apologizing profusely, so you quicken your step until you finally see familiar faces of Nelson and Murdock. "Apologies for the delay, Mahoney held us up." You sigh, stopping in front of the pool table to watch how Foggy misses a perfect shot.

"He likes to do that a lot." Foggy comments, trying to cover up his incredible failure.

"What happened? You were gone the whole afternoon." Matt fixes his glasses, directing his movements elsewhere, although he wanted to at least put a comforting hand on your shoulder... But not in public.

"Uh... Whiskey neat?" You ask him, snatching his drink without waiting for an answer, and when the alcohol burns your throat, finally reply, "so basically, the warehouse where the kids found guns belong to the irish, yes, yet another gang in Hell's Kitchen. And the police are on the lookout for them, but it seems that they went into hiding." You put an empty glass on the table next to you, and touch Matt's shoulder, "Next one's on me."

"Wait, so what happened to the kids?" Karen asks, sipping her own drink, which you notice to be the same brand of beer that Matt keeps buying for himself.

"We all talked, but of course, their parents weren't happy with the charges, so none of them confessed, but Paxton's on tape, and he still has the full immunity on the table."

"And the store owner?"

"He didn't recognize any of them, but he did recognize the stolen jewelry that Paxton brought with him. At least they were smart enough to wear masks, but if Mahoney pulls out a search warrant, it's over for them." You sigh, plopping on the chair nearby. "I'm dog tired and I can't believe I've walked all the way from the station here."

"Hey, it's time to relax now, we've got all gang here!" Foggy puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes, a bit too strong for your liking.

"Nelson and Murdock are finally back!" Karen lifts her bottle and cheers when Matt's shot goes right into the hole.

"That's a pretty damn good shot there, Murdock." You comment, and Matt's cheeks slightly blush. You quickly check him out, relaxed and laid back, his jacket ditched somewhere on the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his strong arms exposed. If you could, you'd take him right here in the filthy bathroom of Josie's bar; but you can only bite your lip and wait for Josie to bring you a drink.

Matt laughs, "I only got lucky this time."

"He's been riding on that luck the whole evening, don't trust his words." Foggy comments and goes around the table to find the best position for himself again.

*** The evening goes by quickly, you've already lost the count on how many drinks you have consumed in those couple of hours, the bar is nowhere near empty, on the contrary, it only became fuller. Foggy has won two out of six rounds against Matt and has been glued to his beer ever since, apart from an occasional bathroom break, and now it was Karen v Matt in the 'grand pool battle', as Foggy called it.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your purse, confused. 1 new message. You can't help but look around the bar, before opening the message from an unknown number. Maybe Todd has come back to haunt you again?

U/N: hey, just wanted to check in, how are you?

You: sorry, who's this?

You see three dots appear and disappear multiple times, and at last, the person texts back, you quickly sober up.

U/N: It's Poindexter.

U/N: don't mean to appear like a stalker, but got your number from the case documents.

You: Oh

Dex clenches his jaw tightly, and Ray turns to look at him, clutching his phone. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dex answers, briefly looking around where they have parked their car. Dex and Ray were on a lookout mission tonight, and after a long afternoon of contemplating, he finally gathered enough courage to text you. And your response wasn't as warm as he expected it to be.

After two long minutes, which felt like an hour to Dex, you finally started typing something. Ray side-eyed his partner with rising interest, pretty much because he has never seen him staring at his phone like that. Dex's small smirk to your message added more suspicion to the already boiling pot.

You: does this count as a part of your job, agent?

Dex: not when I'm off duty.

You: are you off duty now?

Dex: well, I guess you caught me this time.

Matt listens to the sudden liveliness of your phone, slightly confused, but then Karen appears next to him and offers to teach how to play pool 'correctly', despite the obvious fact that he's been playing with Foggy the whole evening. You watch them from behind a half empty glass of whiskey, catching the way drunken Karen allowed herself to boldly touch Matt. You shouldn't be mad or jealous... Theoretically... Because you two weren't public or official. But theory aside, you were biting your cheek to refrain from a sarcastic remark. Matt couldn't help himself but smile awkwardly when he felt Karen's fingers sliding along his arm; her closeness was too much for his liking, especially in front of you; but your attention was somewhere else already.

You: didn't think feds worked overtime. You replied cheekily, but then added, I'm ok. Thanks for asking, Dex.

Dex's response was quick, you don't know a lot about us then. I guess everything that happened was very hard for you.

You get a fresh glass of whiskey, thinking over his message. It was strange, that when your life has finally settled, weeks after Teneke's murder, Dex decided to text you. Although there was some truth in his words, it was hard, the nightmares weren't the fun part of the whole thing too... But it was all in the past now; with Matt by your side, you allowed yourself to relax and not think of all the bad things that happened in your life since your return to Hell's Kitchen.

You: it was, yeah. If we're already on this subject, how are you?

Dex: I'm good, thanks.

And he was, especially when you texted back. His smile, even though a brief one, didn't go unnoticed by Ray. Dex wanted to text something else, keep the conversation going, but his mind was blank, especially when it came to making small talk; although he was now guarded by his phone and safe from any first-hand awkwardness, Dex still didn't know how to deal with the sudden stress. But his self-pitying session got interrupted by your message, so, what are you up to right now? So, you did care after all. Enough to not let this conversation die.

Dex: on a lookout for a bad guy, pretty boring. And you? Hopefully something more exciting.

You: in a bar, drinking my salary away with the bosses. How bad that bad guy is?

Dex: pretty bad in my opinion. Don't drink too much, you won't feel well tomorrow :)

You lock your phone and notice that Foggy and Karen were already dressed up.

"Look who's off her phone already, you missed all the fun." Foggy says, buttoning his coat up.

"You're leaving already?"

"Yeah, Karen's afraid to go home alone and I-"

"I am not!" Karen giggles, steadying herself against the pool table. Matt laughs, leaning on the pool cue and sips his beer.

"Huh, maybe I should head home as well... Just want a cigarette so bad, haven't had one the whole day." You sigh, and say your goodbyes to Foggy and Karen. The bar is still full, Josie's been running non-stop, and you think to yourself if it's always like this on a Monday night.

"That leaves just two us now, huh?" Matt says, striking the white ball into the red one.

"Isn't this just so romantic?" You laugh, walking closer to Matt, and whispering in his ear, "those shouting ones really know how to create an atmosphere...Full of sweaty bodies and that stink of cheap beer."

"I'd say this is perfect." He laughs, handing you the pool cue.

"No, I don't play."

"Come on, let me teach you."

"Really? And how will you do that?"

"With your help, of course." Matt laughs into your ear, and puts his hands around your shoulders, positioning the cue in your hands. "Now, turn where the white one is." You do that, noticing that there's a green ball right behind the white one. "And now, you strike that ball into another one, like that." He pushes the cue with quick, powerful movement, still holding your hand.

"It went in!"

"See, it's easy." He smiles, forgetting that he was gonna ask you who was texting you this late in the evening. You celebrate for a moment, but then grab Matt's hand, asking to go home. And who was Matt to refuse your ideas, when he knew how tired you were?

As you were waiting for a taxi outside, Matt was standing so close to you that you smelled his perfume mixed with all the smells of the bar even through your burning cigarette.

"Listen, I wanna ask you something, y/n." He begins, shuffling his feet on the sidewalk. "Do you... Would you like to go on a date tomorrow evening?"

"A date?" You ask again, averting your attention from the passing cars. "Matt, we've been together for like a month."

"I know, and I haven't asked you on a date once, that's on me." His warm hands found yours and squeezed affectionately, "let's go to some nice place, maybe not too expensive," you laugh and it's like music to his ears, "I would choose it myself, but unfortunately," Matt gestures to his glasses, "I'll put on my best suit, and you could put on that silk dress I helped you choose... What do you say?"

You wanted to kiss him right now and never let him out of your arms, "I have one place in mind... I just hope that it will be as romantic as Josie's."

He laughs, throwing his head back, "so, that's a yes?"

"Affirmate, Mr Murdock." You kiss him on the cheek, leaving the biggest smile on his face.

***

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry, I tried to reason with my mother to not go to that lawyer!" Paxton's voice rings in the dark alley, four dark figures hovering above him menacingly.

"So you had to tell our names to save your own ass, didn't you?" Joey asks, kicking Paxton's thigh with enough force to earn a loud cry.

"I was busted either way. She cracked me about the drugs, I can't be in jail for having drugs in my house, please!"

"You're just a pussy, Paxton. I always knew you were the weakest link." Toby says, pulling the hood off his head. "We could've sold that gold for good money and taken more guns from the warehouse, but it's all busted now. And whose fault is that?"

"Guys, please," Paxton shields his head from another kick, "I beg you, stop, I'll take everything back, I promise-"

"I don't take promises from a snitch. We should just kill you right now." Joey says, picking up a brick from the ground, and gets hit by one of Daredevil's billy clubs, which bounces off to knock out Toby. The rest of the gang look around in panic, until they notice a dark figure on one of the rooftops, and another billy club flies through the air and knocks them out as well.

"Please, please, don't kill me, Daredevil!" Paxton lies back down, keeping his hands in the air.

The devil of Hell's Kitchen lands on the ground switfly with little effort and picks up his billy clubs, agonizingly slowly stalking towards Paxton. "Call the police, call your lawyer first thing in the morning, leave no details, you understand? Drop the shady business or I won't be so nice the next time we meet." Matt rasps out, in case Paxton has heard him speaking in the office.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it, please don't hurt me anyone." Paxton cries out, holding his bruised side.

"Make the call right now, Paxton, I won't ask again."

The boy pulls out his phone, screen almost shattered from the kicks and dials the emergency number, fearfully looking at his knocked out friends and Daredevil himself, standing and looking right at him.

Another typical night in Hell's Kitchen.

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