#agent poindexter

[amberlynnmurdock]

Aim For My Heart (Part 1)

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Summary: One random morning, she buys him a coffee when the barista gets his order wrong–and ever since, Dex has been entranced.

Genres: light angst in the beginning, fluff, making out

A/N: This first part is all fluff! So I hope you guys like it! This is my first time writing Dex so I hope I got his character right :)

TAGS: @danzer8705 @pcrushinnerd (let me know if you want to be tagged or if I missed you)

credit to the owner of this gif!!!

Drip drip. 

Benjamin Poindexter’s brown eyes shoot open at the annoying sound of his sink’s leaky faucet. 

Drip drip.

He attempts to ignore the sound. He shuts his eyes and readjusts himself in bed. He takes a deep breath. 

Drip drip. 

He’s had enough. He can’t stand it. 

Kicking the sheets off himself, Dex huffs out of bed and stomps to the kitchen to fix the faucet. He rips a paper towel off a roll seamlessly and wipes the nozzle. He waits a moment to see if it works. Hand on his waist, he stares at the nozzle of the faucet, almost daring it to drip again. After 45 seconds, he decides it worked. 

He goes back into his room and crawls into bed. In an instant, he falls back asleep.

***

Another dreadful day. 

He can’t remember when his days started to feel like chores he had to get done. Was it when he was put in an orphanage? Was it when his dreams of becoming a professional pitcher were taken away? Was it when his therapist, Dr. Mercer, the only person who ever understood him, passed away? 

When was it? 

It seemed he was accurate with everything else in his life except when it came to pinpointing an exact moment when it started to fall apart. And it’s been falling apart slowly every day. 

Still—he needs to have coffee to somewhat function. He throws the empty coffee bag out in the trash and turns his hands into fists as he rests them on his clean marble countertop. Why do things like this get under his skin? Something as simple as running out of ground coffee? He looks up and is met with his reflection in the microwave. Sometimes, he can barely recognize himself. 

After a few moments, he decides he’ll have to stop at the corner coffee shop, which he hates to do. He hates being around people. He hates pretending to be normal. He hates that he has to put on an act. He hates the fake smile he gives when he orders his coffee; he hates waiting in line. The anticipation of waiting kills him inside. He hates seeing the barista accidentally spill a little of his coffee on the counter. It takes everything in him to not throw the cup away out of spite. It takes everything in him to not react violently over something so small. 

“You will build your life on pillars of order,” Dr. Mercer had once told him. Pillars of order. Pillars of order. Pillars of order.

He’s trying to be better every day. He tries to follow his code, but it’s so hard without someone to guide him, like a North Star. Even though he doesn’t have that anymore, he still tries to be better. He still tries to act normal. Often though, he wonders if he’ll ever be able to live his life on his own without a guiding light. 

No, he thinks to himself. Because people get hurt. Every time. Including him. Most of all, including him. 

As he takes a sip of his hazelnut coffee, he immediately frowns at the taste. It’s not hazelnut at all—it’s mocha. He hates mocha. And he hates the fact even more that he has to go back inside that dreadful place and order a new coffee—one they will probably charge him again for. 

And of course, the line of people. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Was it the people he didn’t like, or the thought of interacting with them? 

After five whole minutes of waiting in line—Nadeem would be on his ass for being late—Dex finally approaches the same barista at the counter who took his order before. As calmly as he can, he forces a smile.

“Hi. I ordered a hazelnut coffee, but I got a mocha instead. Could I please get a new cup?” Dex asks as he tries to ask the question like he hasn’t rehearsed it in his head a thousand times. He slides the cup across the counter. 

The barista, a young man with red hair and freckles, nods and looks at the screen in front of him. He frowns. Dex’s heart plummets in his stomach. 

“I’m so sorry. We just sold our last hazelnut of the day. We can do—“

“He can have mine,” a third voice interjects. The person it comes from is feminine—light, and friendly. Qualities Dex isn’t used to being around. Qualities Dex pretends to have. When he follows the sound of the voice, he meets a young woman standing a few feet beside him. 

She's younger than him, but not by much. She has the most beautiful smile and kindest eyes he’s ever seen. The smoothest, most perfect face. Yes, she’s perfect, he thinks. Perfect to him. He’s speechless as she holds out her cup of hazelnut coffee for him to take. 

“I didn’t drink from it yet if that makes you feel better,” she said sheepishly as she caught him staring at her. 

“Then what will you have?” Dex asks her. 

“I told myself I’d do one kind act today and not expect anything in return. I’m okay. You can have my coffee,” she smiles again, and Dex’s chest feels as warm as the cup in his hand as she hands it to him. Their fingers brush for the smallest of seconds and it’s entrancing to Dex. He smiles at her—not forced at all. She’s already on her way out as she wishes him a good day. He watches as her shrinking figure exits the coffee shop. He doesn’t want this to be the last time he ever sees her. She's the first person to show him an ounce of kindness in a long time. Her hair swayed back and forth as she walked out the door and it flew behind her as the wind came in. She's the most beautiful person he’s seen in a long time. 

And she was so nice to him. That feeling was addictive. 

“Sir?” The young barista called. “I need to take the next guest’s order.”

Dex ignores him, ignores all the people in the coffee shop he pushes past. His gaze is stuck on her path. He follows where she left, her coffee in his hand. He exits the coffee shop. How could she already be gone from his reach?

  He sees her down the block as she makes a right turn. 

Dex isn’t far behind. 

***

The next time he sees her, he owes her a coffee. 

He made sure to get to the coffee shop earlier than normal the next day. He ordered two medium hazelnut coffees from the same barista who had taken his order the previous day. Dex feels lighter in his step—a rare surge of confidence in his entire body. He even decided to wear his FBI bomber jacket. He normally liked to hide what his profession was but thought that maybe it would impress her… and hopefully not scare her. He brushed his dirty blonde hair neatly and even sprayed on cologne. 

He waited at a table near the front and kept an eye on the clock. He had enough time to bring her coffee and make it to work before nine. He watched the door like a hawk, watching carefully as each person entered the shop.

And then finally, she came in. 

She wore a long trench coat and tall boots. Her hair was freshly windblown and she looked slightly flustered, like she was in a rush. Good thing she wouldn’t have to wait in the already growing line to order coffee. 

Dex sees as she audibly sighs at the sight of the line. 

“I owe you a coffee,” Dex calls out confidently as he rises from his seat. She looks over at him, frazzled at first, until recognition settles in her features and she seems to—dare he think—calm down. He’s made her calm down. 

“You don’t,” she says carefully, eyes glancing at the FBI logo on his jacket, “but something tells me if I don’t accept this coffee, you’ll put me on the Most Wanted list.”

Dex laughs—a real laugh—and hands her the cup of coffee. Their fingers brush again. He’s entranced by her touch, again. 

“I could never,” Dex says. “I didn’t get to say thank you for yesterday. So thank you. You have no idea how messed up my day could’ve been without my morning cup.”

“Trust me, I do,” she smiled. “And you’re welcome. And thank you—for my cup today,” she blushed as she fumbled over her words. Dex felt that familiar warm feeling spread through his chest the longer he looked at her. 

“I’m Ben Poindexter… or Dex,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand. She accepts it with ease and shakes his hand. She introduces herself and smiles. Dex repeats her name in his mind to memorization. 

“On your way to work?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” she answers, “late, honestly. But now that I got my coffee early, I can spare a few minutes. Where’s the uh—FBI office?”

“Just a few blocks down. Mind if I walk with you?”

“Not at all,” she smiles. 

Dex holds the door for her and lets her walk out first. He scans the area outside—normally he doesn’t check for threats (like he should) but now he has a reason to make sure the surrounding area is safe. 

They both begin to walk down the block. He matches her steps. 

“What do you do?” Dex asks. 

“I work at a therapist’s office. Client relations—not as daunting as being an FBI agent—is that what you are?”

“Special Agent,” Dex gently corrects. Dex perks when she mentions she works at a therapist’s office. “It’s not as fancy as it sounds, though.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen some shit,” she replies, shivering a little.“I can’t imagine.”

“Yeah, it can get tough,” he sighs, “but you get used to it after a while. Do you like working at the therapist’s office ?”

“I do. You learn a lot about people. I’m not a doctor, but I help where I can.”

“You must have a lot of patience,” Dex muses. He enjoys the cool breeze hitting his face. She looks like she's fighting against it. If the cold weather were a physical being, he’d choke the living life out of it for making her uncomfortable.

“I try to,” she smiles again, crossing her arms across her chest to keep warm. Dex feels a strong urge to wrap his arm around her, but he doesn’t. 

Dex already knows where her work building is—he followed her yesterday up until a certain point. He’s passed his office already. He doesn’t care. As long as he knows she makes it to work safely—he doesn’t care. 

The rest of the walk, they make small talk. Dex doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, the entire time walking, he’s thinking of ways to ask her out on a date. Do I run into her at the coffee shop again? Do I ask her right now? 

Finally, she stops in front of her building. She takes a sip of her hazelnut coffee that Dex bought for her and smiles at him. Dex catches her smile and looks away, almost shy.

“Thank you again for returning the favor, even though you didn’t have to,” she held up her cup in a cheersed way. Dex shrugs, and shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly. “Was it a good cup?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Hit the spot.”

If it wasn’t good, Dex thinks he might’ve taken it out of her hands and thrown it against the building. Nothing should ever disappoint her, or not live up to her standards. He’s relieved she enjoyed it. 

“Could I—ask you out for dinner, sometime?” Dex stutters slightly, as he feels his heart pound against his chest. From the way she smiles at his question, it puts him at ease. 

“You could… but are you going to?” She teases, squinting her eyes a little at the handsome blonde FBI agent before her. Dex laughs and looks down sheepishly, before meeting her eyes again. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me this Friday night?” Dex officially asks her, smoothing any nervousness in his voice. Confidence.  

“Yes,” she nods. “I would love to.” Dex can’t help the blush that creeps on his cheeks. She’s holding her coffee as she searches through her bag for her phone. She almost drops the cup before Dex—with lightning reflexes—catches it before gravity can win. 

“Oh my goodness,” she gasps. “I would’ve been so sad if I dropped it! Thank you—again," she breathes. Dex smiles and holds the cup for her as she looks for her phone. 

“It’s no problem,” he says. 

She asks for his phone number and sends him a text so he’ll have her number saved. Dex is impressed by the way she takes the initiative to his contact information. She must really be interested—though definitely not as interested as he is. He feels his phone buzz in his jacket, confirming he received her text. 

“Well, have a good day, Dex,” she says in a sing-song way, a way Dex will never forget. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

***

She wasn’t one to go to someone’s house after a first date, but Dex might be testing that theory for her. 

She’s watching him carefully over the leather-bound menu. Stealing glances and looks every so often as she pretends to look over the list of red wines. Squinting her eyes, studying his face. He’s completely focused on the menu—he almost looks confused as he reads it. It’s a confusing menu because the place Dex chose has four Michelin Stars. She doesn’t mind though. It buys her time to keep looking at him. 

His skin looks soft…but it’s the way his jaw cuts that brings a sort of harshness to his look. No less handsome, however. She’s not sure if it’s because she knows he’s an FBI agent, but his presence is commanding, whether he realizes it or not. Commanding and sweet at the same time. Even the way his hands look strong and have surely held a gun against someone (because isn’t that what FBI agents do?) are now holding the menu so softly… it’s mesmerizing to see such hands that are capable of doing rugged things hold a leather-bound menu so gently. It only makes her wonder what else he could handle with gentleness—or roughness. Whatever she wants. 

“What are you thinking of getting?” Dex asks her, his silky voice bringing her out of her train of thought. She inhales sharply and quickly scans the menu again. 

“I think a glass of cabernet,” she replies, “and the burrata to start?”

“I was thinking the same,” he grins, warm brown eyes looking into hers. She glances away quickly—the way she feels when he looks at her is unsettling by how much she likes it. “You look really beautiful, by the way.”

And of course… he had to make it worse. There was no use in fighting the blush on her cheeks. She smiled. 

“Thank you.”

The waiter took their orders, and Dex watched her carefully as she spoke. She was pleasant. She smiles at the waiter—but not the same kind of smile she gives to him. Dex leans back in the velvet chair and sighs in content. He never thought he would get this far with her. 

When it was finally the two of them, Dex cleared his throat. 

“So, you do client relations at a therapist’s office? What does that exactly mean?”

“I greet them, I bring them into the room before the doctor gets there. I ask them questions and fill out their intake form. I’m basically a glorified receptionist except sometimes I get to ‘play’ therapist,” she explains rather sheepishly. Dex thinks anyone would be lucky enough to be greeted by her. If he were a patient, he’d ask to never see the doctor. 

“Do you want to become one?” He asks with curiosity. 

“I think one day,” she answers. “I like talking to people. Never mind doing it to help—sometimes just a person to talk to is all someone needs.”

Ain’t that the truth, Dex thinks to himself. “I agree. I used to see a therapist myself.”

“Really? There’s no shame in it at all.”

“I know… well. We’ll save that conversation for another time.”

“Have you always been in the FBI? I’m not even sure I know what the requirements or credentials are,” she asks. 

Dex laughs, “It’s a lot of background checks and training before you start. And no, I haven’t always been in the FBI. I was in the army before.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh, wow. Thank you for your service. Now I definitely think you’ve seen some shit. And I can see why you’d go to therapy. Why did you stop? You said you used to see one.”

Dex sighs uncomfortably. She picks up on it immediately. 

“Never mind. You said another time. Have you always wanted to be in the FBI?”

Dex smiles a little, appreciative of the way she stopped the conversation about his therapist. 

“I used to want to be a professional baseball pitcher,” he admits. 

“I love that. Do you still play?” 

“Not really,” he says softly. “Other interests came to mind. Life.”

“I know what you mean. Life.”

A comfortable silence falls between them—they catch each other gazing into the other’s eyes and laughing at the same time. Dex can’t remember the last time he felt so enamored with someone, so comfortable and so attracted. He’s grateful for running out of coffee that morning. He’s grateful the barista got his order wrong. Most of all, he’s grateful for the young woman who sits across from him at this restaurant. And he’s grateful for the way she’s smiling at him. 

***

It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree to go to his place after dinner. While she promised herself she wouldn’t let it get too far, she was curious to see where the night would go. Dex held her hand the entire walk back to his apartment. She cuddled against his arm, an attempt to feel more warm. Dex pulled her in closer. 

He lived in a humble building just outside of Hell’s Kitchen. His apartment was even more humble: small, but very nice. White walls. White marble countertop without a spec on it. Everything was in its place from the spices to the napkins. Everything was labeled. His couch was placed perfectly in the middle of the room. Picture frames were all aligned on the walls. He dimmed the lights a little. 

From where she stood, she could see his bedroom door slightly ajar. She caught a glimpse of his bed with white sheets—his bed was perfectly made. From how organized and clean he seemed to be, she thought he would freak out to see her mismatched decorations and colorful bedsheets. 

“This is such a nice place,” she said aloud.

“Thank you. I don’t ever have guests, so I’m sorry if it’s a little boring.”

“Not at all,” she moved to sit in the corner of his gray couch. She placed her bag on the floor, and Dex picked it up to move on the coffee table. 

“It’s better to keep it clean off the floor,” Dex murmured as he sat down next to her with two glasses of red wine. He gave her a soft smile as he handed her a glass, which she gladly accepted. They clinked glasses and took a sip, all while holding each other’s gaze. 

“Can I tell you something?” Dex asks suddenly. 

“Of course.”

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Dex gestures to the two of them. “It takes a lot in me to do this. I—I really wanted to ask you out. And I’m happy you’re here. I just—“ he feels himself breathing fast. It’s an awful habit he has, getting overwhelmed by every little thought in his head. Bring a beautiful girl into the mix—it was a terrible concoction for his mind to handle. His mind won’t allow him to enjoy this pleasure because it’s already thinking of ways it could go wrong. Like she’ll never want to see him again.

“Hey,” she whispered, placing a hand on his knee to calm him down. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out in embarrassment, covering half his face with his hand. 

“Don’t need to be sorry,” she said softly. 

“I just don’t want this to be the last I see of you,” he admits. “I had such a good time at dinner and here you are now—“

“Dex,” she began, “I had an amazing time at dinner with you. Truthfully, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to come to your place. I’m happy I’m here. If it’s all the same to you, I definitely don’t want this to be the last I see you.”

“Absolutely,” Dex agrees immediately, turning to face her more. “I’m so happy you’re here too. I’m happy you gave me your coffee that morning and it’s led to this.”

She smiles. “Me too.”

Her hand is still on his knee. Dex is reminded of it when he feels that area of his leg getting warmer from her touch. He glances down at her hand on him and memorizes the image. He doesn’t want to imagine too much, imagine her hand slowly trailing up his thigh… 

To stop his thoughts, he places his hand on top of hers and trails his fingers up the length of her arm, until he reaches her neck and brushes his fingers through her hair. He brings her closer to him, some force guiding him with confidence. Her eyes are half closed as he slowly brings her in for a kiss. A kiss. 

He first brushes his lips against hers, almost as a way to ask if this was okay—if the way he was guiding her to him was okay. She doesn’t protest. Dex kisses her softly at first, memorizing the way her lips feel on his. And then he kisses her with a newfound force. She opens her mouth for him to enter his tongue and Dex breathes her in. He places his arms around her waist and lifts her up and into his lap so she’s straddling him on his couch. She has her hands on either side of his face as she kisses him just as passionately, holding him in place. He runs his hands up and down her back, pulling and pushing her to and fro himself. 

He pulls back, breathless, and looks up at her. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, running his hands in disbelief through her hair. “Everything about you is perfect.”

She kisses him again and again. Dex’s heart is pounding like it never has in his chest, so much it hurts, so much he thinks his life depends on kissing her. After a while, he pulls back again. 

“Let me take you home,” Dex whispers in her ear. “I don’t want to get too far, and we’re treading that line.”

She can’t help but laugh, even though she agrees. “Okay. Walk me home.”

Dex holds her hand the entire walk home. When she says they’ve arrived at her apartment building, she kisses Dex one last time and makes him promise he’ll text her as soon as he gets home.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Dex smirks, enamored by the look in her eyes. 

“I do,” she argues, “I do now.” 

“Goodnight,” Dex whispers. 

He watches as she walks into her building and enters the elevator. Dex moves across the street and waits to see which apartment light turns on. When he sees one turn on, he immediately falls into a dark alley and pulls out a mini telescope. 

He found her. And he watches her. Through a small slip of her curtain. He watches as she moves around her kitchen and living room. She changes into a silk robe in her bedroom. 

He stays there for another two hours until she’s turned off the lights and headed to bed. 

“Goodnight,” Dex whispers to her from afar. 

[poindexterpng]

updated top 10 marvel characters tier list

can you tell i watched thunderbolts and they’ve all become my absolute favourites

[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.

[fulcrums501st]

[a-dagger-named-fluffy]

Every time I watch 3x08 and Ray pulls out the fbi timesheet I giggle

The amount of detail in Dex’s entry compared to the others he’s so pedantic thorough

[nyicissist]

He was eating Matt’s pussy (he’s on his period)

[redpool]

The Thunderbolts line we (I) got:

The Thunderbolts line up, I (me) deserved:

Would have also accepted in the line up:

[hoebrowsalad]

I CAN FIX THEM I scream as they drag me away in a straitjacket to my padded room -

pls no spoilers I'm yet to watch thunderbolts 😔✋🏽

[anabiosiss]

Don't attack me for this BUT since John has become more popular (as has Dex), here are some spontaneous headcanons for their ship. Yeah. Them. I kept this inside for too long.

[sorry if there are any mistakes in text, English is not my first language.]

Because of John Dex start to drinking chamomile tea, cuz coffee made Poindexter too overexcited and twitchy which bothered Walker and he sullenly pushed the tea to the sniper. Especially if Dex had a stressful day before: "no, Dex, you'll try to sleep instead of work on documents with insomnia".

John is the more touch starved expressing this in a tight hug, a warm hand on the small of the back or a kiss on the cheek - he does such gestures all the time when he wants to show affection and tenderness. Dex is not quite like that, his manifestations are less obvious, but they are there - this is a hand on John's head (which is ruffling his already messy hair), stroking his knuckles after a hard mission or even the way Dex lazily leans against Walker, As that's how it's supposed to be.

Dex has a notebook in which he writes about people important to him and pastes random photos in there, too. Mercer, Julie, even Fisk - they all showed up there and Poindexter doesn't even remember how long he's been leading it. But John has been appearing in notes more and more often lately.

Walker often stares at the scar on Dex's back if Bullseye allows it. These moments are rare but meaningful. Even rarer Poindexter allows him to touch and Walker barely breathes with a thoughtful sound, tracing his back with his palm. They don't speak at such moments, but afterward Walker always kisses him on the forehead.

John calls him "pretty boy." In a joking manner. Or not - no one knows. Dex rolls his eyes every time (Walker might get hit in the back of the head with a walnut later. "A lucky shot," Poindexter assures him).

Dex likes the bump on John's nose often tracing it with his fingertips. Walker squints at these moments wondering how they got to this point.

They sleep in such a way that Dex lies on John's chest pressing him completely to the bed. In morning Poindexter complains about someone else's snoring (Walker denies everything).

Both have nightmares, but don't know how to talk about it and go for a smoke break. Often share one cigarette.

Many conflicts end in fights after both lie on the floor exhausted and breathing heavily. Sometimes they fall asleep just like that (will worry about broken furniture and shards of glass around tomorrow).

Walker may unconsciously stand behind people who are important to him, leaning forward and stretching his neck if he senses danger. Dex was not spared this. At first it made him laugh, then irritated him, but sniper come to terms with it and began to treat John like a guard dog at such moments. He still doesn't quite like this gesture from John, but tolerates - because it's Agent concern.

[bargainbintonystark]

Has this been done yet

[wewereagoodteam]

Marvel Blogs

I need some more Marvel blogs to follow.

Please like/reblog this post if you primarily post Marvel stuff.

I'll be tagging some random characters below. They're the ones I'm most obsessed with at the moment, but I'll follow just about any Marvel blog.

[bugs-theshroom]

Uhhh...I made a PowerPoint to catch up on daredevil before ddba... I screenshotted this on my phone so ignore imperfections. Also I didn't get to edit any of the paragraphs so ye-

❗❗SPOILERS FOR DAREDEVIL SEASONS 1-3❗❗

[maybeishouldchangemymajor]

I believe that Wilson Bethel’s Bullseye/Benjamin Poindexter has the potential to be the Bucky Barnes of the street level heros.

Like Buck, he knows he is suffering, he try to get away with all that, he wants to put himself together, even with his psychotic events, his borderline personality.

However, this is going to need extremely serious good writing within it, there are many parts of his story that need fill in. And despite compared to Bucky Barnes, in Dex’s case, I don’t want him to turn good. With Buck, he has Cap and Sam, believing him, trusting him, supporting him real actions. But how about Buck without all these helps, or maybe even, with all the helps there is still no turning point.

Like many people said, Dex is actually very similar to Matt, but he kept drowning and drowning, I want to see that. In S2 or hopefully if there is a S3, I want Dex to finally get to the fork of the road where there is no turning point, where he finally becomes the joker for Daredevil.

Also, did nobody really question who arranged the surgery for Dex to have adamantium injected into his spine? Did no one feel curious about that? Everything after Fisk slamming his back on to the wall, to the surgery, to him in a mental facility, to Vanessa getting him out, to him killing Foggy, to him being pushed down the building, to him transferred to gen pop, there are many plot lines that need to get fill in, and I really hope we can get that.

[romancomicsblog]

Movie Redo: Fixing Marvel's Thunderbolts*

Marvel's Thunderbolts* recently came out with a stellar trailer, watching some of our favorite MCU anti-heroes going through the motions while uncovering a mystery and becoming a team.

While many have praised the trailer for its style, action and tone, I have had some problems with the movie from the beginning. For one, the group Thunderbolts* tends to be villains pretending to be heroes as opposed to morally gray characters.

The movie tackles the spirit of this by having several characters fill in classic roles of the MCU Avengers: Yelena as Black Widow, U.S. Agent as Captain America, etc. But this stops at about half the team.

For example, we have three different variations of Captain America. Each are not Steve Rogers, morally gray super soldiers. The main difference is their range of comedic quips.

We also have two different variations of (basically) Black Widow.

This makes the lineup a bit stale power wise, and makes most of the lineup side Black Widow and Captain America characters.

While it makes entering the film easier, this doesn't give us the same feeling of "assembling" characters from the MCU like the Avengers did. The characters should come from many different projects as opposed to 2.

Finally, the team is made up of 7/8 white people. So in so many ways, this movie is suffering from a lack of diversity.

My goal is to liven up the team with characters across the MCU, villains and antiheroes alike. I'd like this team to:

Fill roles of the classic Avengers

Have a wide range of abilities

Reward long time MCU fans for watching along

Lets get started with an obvious question:

Who Stays & Who Goes?

While this group is full of some great MCU characters, too many unfortunately are redundant.

We will be saving 4 Characters, starting with:

1. Yelena Belova - White Widow (Black Widow / Hawkeye)

One of the smartest moves made by this movie is having Yelena be the lead. I love Florence Pugh, and one thing that can differentiate this team from The Avengers is having White Widow be the leader.

She is the clear and funnest Black Widow stand-in, so I will be choosing her over Taskmaster.

2. John Walker - U.S. Agent (Falcon & The Winter Soldier)

Of the Captain America knock offs, U.S. Agent is by far the most interesting.

No hate to Red Guardian's jokes or Winter Soldier's angst, but having a sad, broken not as good Captain America who is not a good man but a perfect soldier, there's so many ways you can go with it. He can be a traitor to the group, the eventual villain or just the guy who thinks he's the leader.

He is also the character we've seen least of the 3, and deserves his time on the big screen.

3. Ava Starr - Ghost (Ant-Man & The Wasp)

One of the most underrated characters in the MCU, Ghost was a highlight for me in the Ant-Man trilogy. With a tragic backstory, skills to match the Winter Soldier and an actual interesting power, I'm really excited to see where they go with this character.

Plus I love her new suit.

4. Bob - The Sentry (Thunderbolts*)

Lewis Pullman is playing "Bob" who is most likely Robert Reynolds AKA The Sentry, a Superman like superhero who struggles with memory loss, and has the power of "a million suns".

Due to the S in the trailer and his general confusion, Sentry will likely join the team, and his archenemy The Void will may even be the main antagonist.

As a powerful longhaired hero, he fills the role of a Thor for our Avengers, which is a definite need.

The mystery behind Bob as well as the inclusion of a new Superman like character is very fun. I do think a need for every MCU movie is an addition of a new interesting character, so Bob must stay.

Now that we have our 4 stays, let's make some fun additions.

5. Agent Dex Poindexter - Bullseye (Daredevil Season 3)

Agent Poindexter fills a couple of significant roles from the Avengers and from the Thunderbolts* who we took off the list.

Like Taskmaster, Bullseye is an assassin, who worked for a puppet master who is still very much alive and around in the MCU. But unlike many of the other killers on this list, he enjoys killing. As the teams resident sociopath, he can be the devil on their shoulder, egging the team on to go further than they have before.

He also nicely fills the teams role as their Hawkeye. The both have perfect aim, have taken on new identities to commit atrocities, and started off as law men.

It also gives all viewers great homework, because everyone should watch Daredevil.

6. Aaron Davis - The Prowler (Spider-Man Homecoming / Across the Spider-Verse)

The Spider side of the MCU has very much stayed in its place due to Sony. One character who has appeared in both Sony and Marvel, portrayed by the same actor I might add, is Aaron Davis.

Aaron Davis first appeared in Spider-Man Homecoming, and if we believe him to portray the same character in Across the Spider-Verse, has evolved into his role as Prowler now.

Prowler with his tech, claws, skills, and general goofy vibe, could fill the role of a Black Panther or Spider-Man for our group, and much like Spider-Man, be the ground level criminal entering this world of Assassins and Gods.

You can also view him as more of a thief than anything else. Like Aladdin or Star-Lord, fitting him into this team but definitely bringing a different perspective as opposed to Bullseye.

I see Prowler as a secondary lead character, one who has Yelena's back over some of the others, and hopefully makes it out of this mission alive.

7. Titania (She-Hulk: Attorney at Law)

Where there are Avengers, there is need for muscle.

Titania is one the secondary villains from Marvel's She-Hulk: Attorney at Law, notably played by Good Place actress Jameela Jamil.

Titania fills the role of a Hulk / Captain Marvel to the group as our resident strong woman, but also takes up Red Guardians role as comedic relief.

As a social media influencer and fashion icon, she'll bring a very different energy than our other two heroines. She also has the tendency to back whoever to keep herself alive, meaning she may team up with the worst of our titular team if there is a coup.

Plus I'd like her to dawn her wrestler outfit.

8. Justin Hammer - MACH-1 (Iron Man 2)

With many of the Avengers roles filled, all we need is left is a billionaire genius playboy.

Since his debut in Iron Man 2, Sam Rockwell fans have been clamoring for the actor to return as Justin Hammer. While we have inklings of him in All Hail to to King & What If, having Justin as comedic relief and the teams resident tech expert can add a different flavor to the team.

While Justin Hammer doesn't have an alter ego in the comics, he could take on the role of Titanium Man like he does in the animated show, Iron Man Armored Adventures.

My only gripe is the name is a little too close to Titania, so I recommend he takes on the name Mach-1, the alter ego of the Beetle when he joined the Thunderbolts.

While he is not The Beetle, he is still a villain pretending to be a hero, and several have taken on the name of Mach-1, so I think it'll be fine.

With just a few notable changes, my MCU team is now complete.

We now have heroes and villains from across the MCU, all with unique skills, powers, tools and motivations.

And once they all suit up...

They'll make one hell of a team.

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider following, and check out my socials and other sites here! And let me know: Who do you think should be on the Thunderbolts*?

[reallifetangent]

DAREDEVIL S3 AND DAREDEVIL BORN AGAIN S1 EP1&2 RELATED COMMENT

And ofc with spoilers from both seasons. I recently watched S3 before watching Born Again so the comparisons are still fresh in my brain

What the actual fuck.

- Last time we saw our trio, they were so happy about having Nelson Murdock and Page. I thought they would open it with them working on a case, show the dynamic of them working in their new life, in their new chapter.

Just to kill Foggy like he deserved it.

And throw Karen to the other side of the country and never mention her again (I think I've heard her coming in future episodes but it won't be the same without Foggy and her making sure for now she doesn't want to be related to Matt)

- They ended the season showing us how Dex was getting that surgery to get him back on track and alive, and damn he was looking like the next whole season would be about him being THE Bullseye.

Just to again, yet him from a roof, a trial and send him away in the name of justice.

And my worst problem with DDBA:

- Season 3 ended with Agent Nadeem revealing how Fisk played the FBI, how everyone fell for his manipulation, confessing being part of it, giving names, informations, everything. And whatever position each citizen had, they would've seen how this man, known manipulator, got sent to prison, then sent to a luxurious penthouse which ended up with almost if not all of his belongings, got back to his partner, even got married to her, and still pulling strings. Like he didn't commit any crime, any murder, like Hell's Kitchen didn't know that Wilson Fisk was THE man controlling and knowing every little gang and playing it like his little chess game.

Matt also made sure to corner him threatening Vanessa and keeping them apart if he ever dared to cross any line.

Only for Born Again to have Fisk back in town like nothing, everybody forgot how this man played the FBI. How he manipulated the town. How he controlled everyone. He can even run as Mayor, no problem. The guy that has killed so many people with his bare hands, sent to kill many more, blackmailed, used, etc, and everybody knew about it, even the FBI should've intervened when he just gave a thought to run for Mayor. And nobody cared. Sure, let's have this kind of person as the leader of our city! (Waitaminute this sounds very familiar 🍩 🎺)

So far the only thing that made sense to me was Vanessa running his businesses, while he was away, recovering, her being THE Woman in charge, and suddenly Fisk's apparition takes away her credit of her progress because he will always have the higher hand, even if he would trade the whole universe for his wife, everyone respects more Fisk than respect Vanessa.

When she got reunited with Wilson in S3, she said even with him around, she was feeling lonely, and only when he accepted her as part of his world, she started feeling herself and accompanied. With all happening with Fisk being a more known figure when it came to crime, I see why he would always be the face, always busy, always under attack, and her being by his side, working with her ways, yet him being away for days recovering or laying low, would get her back to her loneliness state. That's the only thing that makes sense to me in this whole season, and why they should go to Couples Therapy.

The writing and pacing feels rushed, like they have to already set characters that won't be important, characters that need to be now and here, some kind of Show and Throw Away or Dive Deep in the ones they will focus, set the situations now, instead of cooking them slow and good, like the whole thing with Dex getting corrupted slowly, or finding out Fisk managed to get himself out of prison by using Nadeem's situations and vulnerability, how Matt lost himself and ended up getting back on his feet thanks to his mother and friends. I feel like they're rushing everything to get somewhere.

Idk, I wanna give it some time but I still can't wrap my head around what happened to Foggy, Karen, Dex and the whole "Fisk is considered Good Again" thing

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Based on the final rankings:

First place survives and is the main protagonist

Second and third place survives

Fourth place survives, but is severely wounded

Fifth place sacrifices themselves to take out the main villain

Sixth place has their head squished by the Red Hulk

Seventh place tries to betray the team and gets killed by the team in response

Eighth and ninth place are disintegrated by ex-HYDRA agents

Tenth place is stabbed to death by a Wolverine clone

Eleventh place is immediately shot in the head after the team makes it to the landing zone

Twelfth place is made an example of when their bomb collar is detonated after they tried to leave the team