frank castle who is such a hopeless romantic when it comes to you. whenever you come home later than usual, he surprises you with the best steak you've ever had in your life ─ he may not be the best cook but he knows how to handle meat specifically.

he turns on a lovely, smooth, jazzy music on the vinyl and dances with you after. his hand on the small of your back, your arms wrapped around his neck. 'you like dancing with your ol' man, sweetheart?' he whispers in your ear, leaving trails of kisses on your neck.

frank castle who knows you better than anyone in the world. oh, you mentioned a specific product you don't like? best know he will remember it his whole life. he notices all the smallest things you mention that would seem unimportant to anyone else.

he always recognizes your mood shifts as well ─ when he mentions another job he has to do, frank sees your eyes losing the sparkle, which means, you're worried about him. 'you know how much I hate makin' my pretty girl worry?' he brings you a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers in the middle of the night, knowing you wouldn't be asleep.

frank castle who loves trying out new bars with you. no matter what you wear, you'll always be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. but when he sees you all dolled up ─ he is an absolute wreck for you.

'I don' think I wanna go out anymore, honey' he smiles softly when he sees you wearing a pretty dress, with your hair and makeup done. he wraps his big, strong, buff arms around your figure and kisses you so passionately ─ you feel like in heaven.

frank castle who can handle you and your attitude during heated arguments. 'frank, you could have killed the man!' you start shouting as soon as you step a foot home. he nearly completely broke a guy's face because he tried putting hands on you. what else was he supposed to do, though? let some fucked up asshole touch you? he would rather die.

'baby...' frank stands in front of you, holding your face with both of his hands.

'don't baby me, frankie' you pout.

just like that. you feel better as soon as you feel his touch. he deserved it anyway, you think to yourself and let your man bring you to the bedroom. undressing you, putting you in your comfiest pajamas, making your favorite tea and book and lighting a candle next to your nightstand.

'feelin' better, baby?'

you roll your eyes in defeat. whatever!

frank castle who gets jealous when you pay too much attention to something or someone else. it's your third time in a row going out on 'girls night' and he's about to absolutely lose his shit. yes, he wants you having fun but, fuck, he needs to hug you. one night he gets a notification.

'frank, your girl is completely wasted' 'can u pls pick her up?'

oh, he will not miss the chance to see you drunk. frank is out of the house before your friend manages to send him anymore messages. when he sees you sitting on the sidewalk, face flushed, hair messy ─ he picks you up bridal style and puts you in his truck. he removes hair from your face and gives you a kiss.

'frankie, I love you so much' you smile up at him, eyes beaming with love. you continue blabbering stuff but he can't hear any of it, too distracted with your beauty and struck with your words. 'I love you more, baby' frank kisses your forehead and takes you home.

frank castle who is such a husband material. he never lets you do anything at home when he's around. you're just cleaning the floor? hell no, get in bed and watch your show right now. you're doing the dishes? fuck no ─ 'go enjoy your bath, baby, I'll take care of it.' he says as he kisses your temple. this applies to all the house chores.

one thing he can't get enough of, is your cooking. oh how he loves eating everything you make. adores when he's home from a long tiring day and his favorite meal is on the dining table. 'you didn't have to, sweetheart' he says, even though he is beaming with happiness.

'it's the least I can do for you, baby' you softly whisper as he hugs you to his chest, strong arms making you feel safe and secure. he can't believe you're real.

frank castle who was scared of you leaving him at the start. he had a hard time opening up to you and would keep his problems to himself. but you made him feel safe ─ he trusts you more than anyone in the world. whenever he feels too much he'll come to you for comfort.

you know he's not feeling good when he comes home late with tired eyes ─ broad shoulders slouching. you let him lay on top of you as you massage his shoulders and temples, feeling all the stress knots release as he talks to you about his day. after he's done, he passes out like a baby, softly snoring against your neck.

you sat curled beneath a blanket, one leg tucked underneath you, a book resting open in your lap. your apartment felt unusually warm compared to the weather outside. a small lamp glowed beside the couch, casting pools of amber light across the room along with some scented candles you lit.

you'd showered less than half an hour ago. your hair was still slightly damp, the ends leaving faint wet marks against the oversized t-shirt you'd thrown on afterward. the warmth from the shower lingered on your skin, making the apartment feel even cozier than usual.

it should have been the perfect night for reading, except you kept rereading the same page because your mind kept drifting. your neighbor. the man from across the hall. you didn't even know his name. all you had were brief encounters in hallways, shared elevator rides, nods of acknowledgement.

you stared down at the page. reading the same sentence for the fourth time and giving up. with a sigh, you lowered the book onto your chest. outside, headlights passed below your window. your thoughts wandered again.

you wondered if he was home, if he was awake, if he ever noticed you watching him the same way you noticed him watching you. you wondered what his voice sounded like. whether it was as sharp as his stare. whether he even knew how much space he'd started taking up inside your head. the thought made you smile at yourself.

this was getting embarrassing. you were imagining a man you'd never even spoken to.

you were just beginning to convince yourself to return to your book when three firm knocks sounded at your door. the sound startled you enough that you nearly dropped it. you sat up immediately, blinking toward the hallway. at almost midnight, you certainly weren't expecting visitors. another knock followed a few seconds later.

setting the book aside, you stood from the couch and crossed the apartment. the wooden floor felt cool beneath your bare feet as you approached the door. through the peephole you could only make out the dark shape of someone standing in the hallway.

curiosity got the better of you. you unlocked the door and pulled it open.

oh.

standing on the other side was the very man you'd been thinking about for the last twenty minutes. rainwater darkened the shoulders of his black jacket, suggesting he'd only recently come inside. his expression remained unreadable, but his eyes settled on yours almost immediately, familiar and unnervingly intense.

then he lifted one hand - dangling from his fingers was a set of keys. for a second, you simply stared at the keys in his hand, then recognition hit.

"oh my god."

you immediately reached for them, relief washing through you. "i've been looking for these all evening."

his gaze followed the movement of your hand. "figured."

your fingers brushed as you took them from him. it wasn't even enough to properly qualify as touching, but you still felt it. a brief spark of awareness that made you strangely conscious of how close he was standing. you glanced down at the familiar keychain attached to the ring and laughed softly.

"seriously, thank you. I thought I'd somehow lost them outside."

"found them in the lobby," he said. "you dropped them earlier."

you looked back up at him.

"and you remembered they were mine?"

"I've seen you carrying them."

the answer should have felt completely normal. instead, it made your stomach tighten. neither of you seemed eager to break eye contact. the hallway suddenly felt much smaller than usual.

you became acutely aware that you were standing in your doorway looking freshly showered and probably staring at him like an idiot. you cleared your throat.

"well." your fingers tightened around the keys. "I definitely owe you one..."

"tony." he specified. you introduced yourself in exchange.

tony... the name doesn't suit him that much, you thought to yourself.

"tony!"

his eyebrow lifted slightly. his gaze remained on you for a moment before shifting away. only then did you properly notice the state he was in.

his dark jacket was soaked through. rainwater clung to the fabric and dripped occasionally onto the hallway floor. his hair was damp too, slightly darker than usual, with a few strands falling forward.

you frowned. "jesus. it's pouring out there."

he glanced over his shoulder toward the building entrance at the end of the hallway. "yeah."

"you got caught in it?"

"something like that."

the man looked like he'd walked through a hurricane.

"something like that doesn't explain why you look like you swam home."

that earned a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. you felt oddly proud of yourself.

"well, my apartment building has terrible timing too."

"how so?"

he looked back at you.

"no hot water."

you blinked. "what?"

"pipe burst." he said it casually. "and maintenance won't be here until tomorrow."

you stared. "you're kidding."

"wish I was."

you looked at him. then at the rainwater practically dripping off him. then back at him. a few seconds passed. no, don't even think about it.

"you can use my shower."

the words left your mouth before you could think about them. immediately afterward your brain caught up.

right. great. amazing.

you had just invited the attractive stranger you'd been obsessing over for months into your apartment to shower. excellent. very normal.

his eyebrows lifted slightly, looking skeptical. "your shower..."

you cleared your throat.

"I mean-" too late. you were already flustered. there was no recovering now. "I have hot water. you don't. that's the entire thought process."

"that's reassuring."

"don't make it weird."

his expression remained perfectly neutral. "I wasn't."

"you were thinking about it."

for a second you thought he might refuse, you expected him to. he seemed like the kind of person who rarely accepted help from anyone. his eyes drifted past you into the apartment. then his gaze returned to yours.

"you sure?" he asked, his question coming out quieter than you expected.

you nodded. "yeah."

finally he sighed through his nose. almost like he was giving in to something. "okay."

you blinked. "okay?"

"okay."

you hadn't actually planned for him to agree. now you were the one standing there staring. his eyes narrowed slightly. amused.

"you're the one that offered."

"I know, I just-" you stopped. because there was absolutely no way to finish that sentence without embarrassing yourself. he waited. "come in" you pointed toward your apartment.

the smile that appeared this time was small. brief but definitely real. you stepped aside and he finally crossed the threshold into your apartment. the scent of rain followed him inside.

you closed the door behind him and suddenly became painfully aware that your mysterious neighbour was standing in your living room. the same living room where you'd spent the last twenty minutes thinking about him. unfortunately, your brain chose that exact moment to remind you of this fact.

you immediately walked into the side of the couch. the impact echoed through the room. fuckkkk, that hurt. you closed your eyes from the pain and tried to ignore what just happened, pretending you were okay.

"I saw that."

of course he did. you rubbed your knee.

"no you didn't."

"pretty sure I did."

"well, as your host, I'm asking you to respect my privacy."

another laugh. somehow, hearing it while he stood dripping rainwater onto your floor made the entire evening feel a little unreal. you laughed alongside him.

you guided him to the bathroom - brought him towels and whatever men's clothing you had. the ones you usually bought to wear at home.

"If you need anything else let me know, tony!"

he thanked you and locked the door, turning the shower on. dex immediately started inspecting the whole place: what brand toothpaste and soap you use, what does your laundry detergent smell like, what scented shower gels do you have. he didn't forget to open some drawers and noticed a few pads and tampons laying around, as well as some razors and first aid kit.

after checking everything out, dex finally stepped into the shower. he didn't mind your haircare and skincare products - he thought they smelled sweet, just like you. he couldn't stop sheepishly smiling the whole time. like he finally got what he wanted without even trying too much - if we don't include the fact that he stole your lost keys earlier the day, and a few months of eye-fucking you two had.

after around 15 minutes, tony was out of your bathroom, dressed in your home clothes. he looked so unbelievably hot right now, hair still wet and messy, clothes a little too tight for his broad figure, his cheeks were pinkish and you could smell your signature scent across the living room.

"everything alright?" you peeked your head up from the couch.

"yep, I guess you don't owe me anymore" he smiled. "you're good". tony started walking over to you, the couch dipping at his weight. fuck, he looked so sexy manspreading right on your couch, drying his hair with one hand, his biceps flexing. this can't be real, you thought to yourself.

you were staring. it was becoming a genuine problem.

“you keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna start thinking I’ve got shampoo left in my hair.”

your eyes immediately snapped upward, face feeling warm. “you probably do.”

“wow.”

“check.”

tony dropped the towel onto his shoulder and patted around his head dramatically. after a few seconds of searching, he held up absolutely nothing.

“false accusation. I expect an apology.”

“you’ll survive.”

“barely.”

you rolled your eyes and tried focusing on the random movie playing on the tv because your extremely handsome neighbor looked like he had just walked out of a magazine cover to you. meanwhile, he was sitting on your couch wearing sweatpants that were definitely too small for him and a hoodie that looked like it was losing a battle against his shoulders.

it wasn’t fair.

“you know,” he said after a moment, “this is actually kind of weird.”

“you showering at my place?”

“that too. mostly the fact that your entire apartment smells like vanilla.”

“and?”

“and now I smell like vanilla too."

you laughed.

he looked offended. “I'm serious.”

“that’s your problem?” you rolled your eyes.

"pretty much, I've got a reputation to maintain" you stared at him. he stared back. then both of you lost it. the tension dissolved instantly.

“that’s the dumbest thing I've ever heard,” you managed between laughs.

“thank you.”

“that wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

the laughter lingered for a second before fading away. the movie continued playing in the background, filling the apartment with distant dialogue and music neither of you were paying attention to anymore. somehow, the silence that settled between you felt different now. heavier.

tony leaned back into the couch, one arm stretched across the backrest. his head tilted slightly as he looked at the television, but you got the feeling he wasn't watching it either. you tried to focus on the screen. but every time you glanced over, he was still there - wearing your clothes, still smelling like vanilla and your shampoo, still taking up way too much space in your apartment and somehow making it feel smaller.

the realization made your stomach twist. because this wasn't normal. neighbors didn't usually end up sitting on each other's couches at midnight wearing borrowed clothes and they definitely didn't make it this hard to breathe. you swallowed and looked away.

"okay, what is it?" tony asked.

"what?" your head snapped toward him.

"you keep looking at me." his voice was quieter now - not teasing, just stating a fact.

heat crawled up your neck. "you're sitting in my apartment."

tony's jaw tightened slightly. just enough for you to notice. then his eyes dropped to the oversized sleeve hanging over your hand, to your bare legs tucked underneath you on the couch. then back up again, slowly. your breath caught. his expression changed for half a second. something unreadable flashing across his face before disappearing just as quickly.

it was the first time since you'd seen him that he looked uncertain.

"you should stop looking at me like that," he said quietly.

your pulse skipped. "like what?"

his eyes held yours for a second.

"you know exactly like what."

the air seemed to leave the room. you couldn't think of a single response, avoiding eye contact. your eyes dropped to the floor, then to the sleeve hanging over your hand, anywhere except him. meanwhile, tony didn't move. his gaze stayed exactly where it was, steady and impossible to ignore even without looking directly at him.

you could feel it lingering, feel the weight of the silence stretching between you. the room hadn't changed, the tv was still playing somewhere in the background, but everything else seemed distant, drowned out by the simple fact that neither of you had laughed your way out of this one.

when you finally risked a glance back up, his eyes were still on you. not challenging, not teasing - just watching. there was something unusually unguarded about him now, as if he'd forgotten to hide whatever was running through his mind. the silence settled heavily between you, charged with all the things neither of you seemed willing to say out loud.

all you knew was that your heart was beating hard enough to make it difficult to think. the space between you suddenly felt much smaller than it had a few minutes ago, despite neither of you changing position. tony's gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes.

the movement was subtle and impossible to miss. for the first time all evening, he looked genuinely conflicted. like he was arguing with himself, like part of him had already made a decision and the other part was trying to stop it.

"this is a bad idea," he said quietly. the words sounded more like a warning to himself than to you.

you swallowed. "then why aren't you leaving?"

for a moment, he just looked at you. then something in his expression softened.

"I don't want to." the answer barely came out above a whisper. somehow the distance between you disappeared. tony leaned forward slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, every opportunity to break the moment if you wanted to. when you didn't, his eyes flickered between yours one last time.

his hand came to rest against the couch beside you, close enough to make your pulse jump. close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. the air felt impossibly still. then he tilted his head slightly and closed the remaining distance.

It started off as hesitant at first, like he was unsure of it but soon enough tony leaned in closer, deepening the kiss. his hand came up to hold the side of your face - fingers brushing over your jaw. you could feel his desperation with the way he was kissing, it wasn't rough but passionate. his hand went down to hold your throat, softly squeezing it.

you felt yourself getting hotter every second, feeling goosebumps all over your body. you tried to break the kiss to take a breath but tony held it firmly, not letting it go. he pushed his tongue back into you, exploring every part of your mouth.

slowly both of his hands went down to hold your waist, pushing you closer. you used this chance to straddle his lap and he gladly let you. you felt the hardened bulge between your legs immediately, softly groaning at the feeling of him. tony squeezed your waist and pushed you to his chest, your arms wrapped around his neck.

the kiss got intense in matter of seconds, it wasn't innocent anymore. both of you were breathing loudly, holding each other impossibly close. you could feel yourself getting wet, pussy pulsing right on his lap. you decided to grind on him out of desperation.

"fuck" tony grunted loudly and pushed his head back on the couch. he started to push his hips up to feel you deeper. you moaned softly at the new sensation, your clit feeling the friction between layers of clothes. tony's hands moved to grab your ass and push you down on him again. you grabbed the back of his hair out of pleasure and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

tony's voice was low and rough, grunting from time to time. he started leaving kisses on your jaw, going down lower and biting your neck, softly sucking on it. his hands now trailed back up to slide under your shirt. he cupped and squeezed your breasts and twisted one of your nipples.

your moans started to progressively get louder, desperately grinding your clothed pussy on his sweatpants. you felt yourself getting closer, the friction, sensation and heat between your legs getting difficult to handle. you couldn't keep your composure anymore. neither could tony.

"am I making you feel good, pretty girl?" he smiled, whispering in your ear and gently biting it before going back on your throat. "come on, you're almost there, baby".

the praise made your walls flutter around nothing, the emptiness felt frustrating. you felt yourself getting impossibly close to cumming from just rubbing your clit on his bulge.

"fuck, fuck, fuck" the orgasm came crushing down on you. your back arched at the feeling, eyes and head rolling back, exposing your neck to the man under you. he didn't miss the chance to plant lingering kisses all over your throat.

"good girl" tony pushed himself up on you once again to ride out your pleasure and moved your body against him with force. he grabbed your face and kissed you rough and desperately, biting your lower lip.

his fingers tangled in your hair as the kiss turned filthy again - wet and deep and messy. every bite of his teeth sent sparks down your spine. then suddenly he pulled back just enough to yank off his shirt in one rough motion. the dim light caught every hard line of his chest filled with the scars.

without a word, tony lifted you effortlessly into him and pinned you beneath him on the couch cushion. his mouth found yours again but it wasn't gentle anymore.

tony’s hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up slowly - his lips never leaving yours as he kissed you through every movement. when the fabric was halfway off, he broke the kiss just to pull it completely over your head. the second cool air hit your bare skin, goosebumps erupted but tony warmed you fast with his mouth trailing down your neck.

his teeth grazed one shoulder before his tongue dipped into the hollow of your collarbone. each kiss grew hotter, needier, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

he reached behind to unhook your bra that stood in his way without hesitation - impatient but careful not to hurt you.

"you're perfect, sweetheart" he whispered against your bare skin.

tony kissed down your stomach, slow and deliberate - each press of his lips a promise. when he reached the waistband of your shorts, he paused. his fingers hooked into the fabric and peeled them down over your hips with torturous slowness. you could feel every brush of his knuckles against sensitive skin.

his soft lips pressed a kiss through thin panties that were already damp from everything before this moment ever started happening at all.

with one hand holding onto your thigh to keep you spread for him, he dragged those same panties down slowly - revealing everything inch by inch under dim living room light filtering through curtains.

the moment your panties were gone, he lowered his head and licked long, slow, deliberate - right through the center of your folds. a full-body shiver tore through you at the contact.

"tony!" you moaned out loud as your head fell back out of pleasure.

he did it again. then again. each stroke was different - teasing one side with his tongue while sucking gently on sensitive skin. his mouth sealed over your clit and sucked hard.

"sweeter than I imagined," tony groaned im your pussy, completely lost in your pleasure.

you gasped so loud it turned into a moan that echoed off the walls. tony growled against you and doubled down immediately: tongue swirling fast now while two fingers slid deep inside without asking permission. they curled just right inside you as he sucked relentlessly.

his fingers, which had been moving slowly at first, suddenly picked up speed - thrusting deeper and faster inside you while his thumb replaced his mouth for a split second to rub tight circles over your clit then he dove back in with force. it was relentless - curving those two digits just right every time they plunged deep. the heel of his hand pressed lightly against your pelvis, adding subtle pressure that made everything feel even more intense

you could hear him breathing heavy through it all - low groans vibrating against sensitive. each sharp inhale from him told you he was getting off on every sound spilling out of your lips

"please don't stop, please" you chanted his name like a prayer as you came apart instantly, your orgasm hit like a lightning strike fast and overwhelming. the way you came from tony’s mouth was messy.

fingers clenched around tony’s hair as waves of pleasure ripped through you. your back arched off the couch cushions and your hands fisted hard in his hair, pulling slightly without meaning to.

"there you go" tony didn’t stop. not even when he felt you shaking under him. he kept sucking gently now instead of aggressively - drawing out every last pulse until it became almost too much. sensitive and overstimulated.

finally, tony slowly pulled back - lips glistening in the low light, then crawled up over you. without hesitation or warning he crashed his mouth into you, kissing messy and deep with all that pent-up hunger still burning inside him.

his sweatpants thudded softly as it hit the floor. he didn’t hesitate when he finally peeled off his boxer briefs - freeing himself completely. hard, thick and aching for attention. you almost drooled at the sight. he kicked everything aside without looking and climbed back onto the couch with you - skin on skin this time. warmth everywhere.

tony hovered over you for a breath - just looking. your lips were swollen from kissing, your chest rising and falling fast. the room was quiet except for both of your breathing. heavy with want. he lined himself up slowly - tip pressing right where it mattered most and paused again, waiting, checking if you were okay with this. when you nodded and arched into him, he pushed forward slowly.

inch by inch, stretching gently as his body slid inside yours, heat meeting heat in the most intimate way possible.

"fuuuuck, baby, so tight f'me" his jaw clenched hard, eyes squeezing shut briefly from how good it felt.

the slow, careful pace didn’t last long. once tony was fully inside - buried deep where you were warm and tight around him. his hips jerked forward instinctively, driving himself deeper with a low groan that rumbled through his chest. the rhythm started steady at first, then faster and harder.

"eyes on me, baby" each thrust made the couch creak beneath you both. tony’s breathing turned ragged, mouth falling open as pleasure overwhelmed every nerve. without warning, one hand shot up and wrapped loosely around your throat. just enough pressure to make your pulse jump under his palm. then he pinned both of your wrists above your head with one strong grip.

"fuck, feels so good" you moaned against his lips.

"oh yeah? you like how I fuck you, baby?" tony teased.

the pleasure was building too fast, like a wave about to crash. every snap of tony’s hips sent electric shocks through your core, each movement perfectly calculated to drag the most intense sensations out of you. his voice alone - low and teasing made your stomach flip.

"tony, please" you could feel him everywhere - the heat of his skin against yours where sweat-slicked bodies pressed together; the way muscles in arms flexed as he held himself up over you.

"please what, baby" he repeated slowly, voice dripping with false innocence like he hadn't just wrecked you seconds ago. his hips gave a tiny roll - not enough to give real relief; just a cruel little tease of movement. he saw it in your face immediately: that perfect mix of desperation and neediness. "use your words," he murmured against your neck, lips brushing skin between syllables.

"please, tony, wanna cum on your cock, please" your voice came out breathless, wrecked already. tony’s expression shifted. the playful teasing vanished in an instant, replaced by something far darker and hungrier. his pupils dilated further; his jaw tightened with sudden intensity.

without warning, he slammed back into you - harder this time. no slow buildup now; just raw force as his hips with renewed aggression. the couch creaked violently beneath you both like it might actually break from how rough and fast things got all of a sudden.

a groan ripped from tony’s chest at the feeling - the way you clenched around him so perfectly. "fuck!" your third orgasm hit like a tidal wave, unexpected and overwhelming, eyes rolling back to the back of your skull. one second tony was pounding into you with that perfect rhythm, the next your whole body clenched around him - walls fluttering as pleasure erupted through every nerve ending.

you gasped his name. he felt the way you squeezed him so tight and that was all he needed. his thrusts turned erratic. desperate. losing their control fast as his own release barreled toward him.

a few more rough pumps and he buried himself deep inside you and came hard - body tensing above yours like a coiled spring finally snapping. heat flooded between you both in waves. the second his orgasm peaked, tony collapsed onto you - heavy but careful not to crush you completely.

his lips found yours in a messy, desperate kiss. when he pulled back, neither of you got very far. his forehead nearly brushed yours. for a second, he simply stared at you, breathing unevenly.

your breath was still coming in slow, shaky waves - post-orgasm haze thick around your mind as you looked around the room. the tv had been playing some late-night news segment after the movie ended - volume low, background noise. neither of you really paid attention before. but then you glanced at it, eyes half-lided, mind floaty.

Benjamin Poindexter. Also known as, Dex - Bullseye. a headline flashed. there was a live shot of him brutally attacking the police - his figure was tall, broad shoulders, that confident stride you’d recognize anywhere. then they showed a mugshot of his face without the mask: dark eyes, sharp jawline, face filled with scars that were still red.

your stomach dropped. tony saw the second your eyes widened - that specific kind of panic, the sharp inhale that wasn’t pleasure-related and the way your whole body locked up. he turned his head slowly toward the tv. without hesitation dex reached for the remote and hit mute first, then power-off button right after.

the room plunged into silence the second the screen went black - no more news, just suffocating stillness. dex’s movements were precise, calculated; even now, there was something terrifyingly methodical about him.

he turned to face you fully. the dim light from your bedside lamp caught his profile - the same scars you’d seen on tv moments ago now in real life: jagged across his cheekbone, a thin line over his eyebrow. His expression wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t calm either.

the silence felt fragile now, stretched so tightly that even the smallest movement seemed capable of breaking it. dex's gaze lingered on yours before drifting toward the dark window across the room. his shoulders had gone rigid.

"I should go," he said eventually.

whatever had been there moments ago was gone. the guarded expression had returned, settling over him like armor. his jaw tightened as he looked toward the door instead of at you.

"tony?"

"dex." he corrected. closing his eyes briefly. that single hesitation told you more than anything else could have.

when he finally stood, the apartment felt strangely empty despite the fact that he was still there. every movement seemed deliberate, controlled, like he was forcing himself to leave before something happened that he couldn't take back.

"thanks for letting me use the shower," he said quietly.

you rose from the couch too. his eyes met yours then. and you saw something dangerously close to the truth. whatever it was, it scared him. the silence stretched. then he gave a small shake of his head.

"goodnight."

his hand remained on the handle. his back to you.

"for what it's worth," he said quietly, "I'm really glad you opened the door tonight."

the door clicked shut behind him, and you stood there staring at it long after he was gone. the apartment suddenly felt too quiet.

slowly, you sank back onto the couch, your mind replaying every conversation, every look, every pause that had lasted a second too long. beneath the shock and confusion, you couldn't figure out what had happened. the pieces were all there, yet none of them seemed to fit together, leaving you with more questions than answers.

olderbf!dex who knows exactly how dangerous his attachment has become and absolutely hates himself for it. he goes home after every date and sits alone in his apartment replaying the moments with you over and over again - every time you reacted, smiled, pouted, blushed. dex also replays conversations in his head for hours afterward, dissecting them word by word, trying to figure out if he sounded strange or too cold or too interested.

olderbf!dex who is actually really shy when he's around you. you start to notice his ears getting red every time you give him a small innocent kiss, or when you say something sweet and kind to him. he's surprised you care, even if it comes natural to you, dex doesn't understand what's so likable about him.

olderbf!dex who thinks less of himself and doesn't think he deserves someone so perfect like you. the man just gets so tense whenever he finds you in his bed, comfortably laying in his pajamas when he gets back from work. his heart is pounding in his chest, tired eyes filled with wonder on what to do with you.

olderbf!dex who loses all his composure when he sees you talking with a guy your age at the function - both of you smiling. he inspects, you seem like you're laughing at something he's saying. fuck. dex curses himself, overthinking immediately taking over his whole being.

olderbf!dex who seems so stressed while driving you back home, hands forcefully digging into the steering wheel. he avoids eye contact the whole time, dryly responding to you who clearly enjoyed the night. although, you don't miss the death stare and angry expressive eyes.

olderbf!dex who falls apart the second you step a foot home. he's trying so hard not to mention the younger guy but it just slips in the conversation. you already know why he's mad, but you can't take it seriously, trying to tease. dex is dead serious, though.

olderbf!dex who's voice trembles when his thoughts gets the best of him. he so desperately wants you to reassure him you're not leaving him, dex just can't put that into words and starts blaming you, like you were lying to him the whole time. the conversation slowly turns into a heated argument which makes you storm out of his house middle of the night.

olderbf!dex who starts shaking the second the door slams and he's left alone. you don't feel like talking to him for a few days, wanting for him to realize he messed up and put the blame on you for something so stupid.

are you ignoring me?

please, just answer me.

desperate!dex who deletes the message, then rewrites and deletes it again in a span of a minute. he eventually sends it and then spends the next hour convincing himself not to check whether you’ve read it. when you don’t answer a text for too long he’ll find himself checking things repeatedly. locking and unlocking doors, counting steps, rearranging objects. anything to quiet the anxiety crawling beneath his skin.

I'll be good

I know you're home. open the door.

olderbf!dex who's ready to get on his knees if only you forgive him. you observe him: he looks tired - eyes dark, red and teary, he hasn't slept, he's blinking too hard, his hair is a mess, knuckles white from digging at his own palms. dex's completely dissociated but focused on you at the same time, breathing deeply and loudly, it's like you can hear his heart pounding.

olderbf!dex who's voice trembles while he explains himself. you decide to forgive him and put the argument to the side for his sake, and also because you got what you wanted. dex exhales loudly when he gets to hold you, finally getting you back. he's going to make sure not to upset his pretty little girl next time.

the rain had been falling since morning.

dex could hear it drumming against the roof of his car as he sat outside the apartment building, staring through the windshield at nothing. the city beyond the glass was blurred and violet beneath the evening sky, streetlights bleeding into puddles and windows glowing faintly through the storm. everything looked distant, unreal.

his hands were clenched around the steering wheel. he couldn’t remember how long he’d been sitting there.

work had been a disaster. fisk had spent the entire week tightening the leash around his neck, reminding him exactly how trapped he was. every conversation felt like a threat. every order felt like another piece of himself being carved away. even when fisk wasn’t physically there, dex could feel him lingering in the corners of his mind like a shadow.

eventually he forced himself out of the car and climbed the stairs to his apartment. his body felt heavy, eyes dissociated. he unlocked the door, expecting you to be asleep only to be met with overwhelming warmness.

the apartment smelled faintly of vanilla and cinnamon. soft music drifted from somewhere inside, blending with the distant sound of rain against the windows. several lamps had been turned on, candles lit, casting pools of golden light across the room. the atmosphere felt dreamlike.

you were curled up on the couch beneath a blanket, reading. you looked up the moment he stepped inside. for one awful second, dex felt his throat close up because of the smile that appeared on your face, because you had no idea how badly he needed this. how badly he needed you.

all day he’d felt like he was drowning. every thought had dragged him deeper. every hour had seemed heavier than the last. yet somehow you managed to create an entirely different world inside these walls. a small, quiet place untouched by fisk, untouched by work, untouched by every terrible thing that followed him through the city.

“hey,” you said softly.

something inside him cracked. he dropped his gaze immediately because if he looked at you for too long he was afraid you'd see the exhaustion, the sadness, the awful ache sitting inside his chest.

you were already standing before he could say anything else. he watched you cross the room, his sweater's sleeves covering half your hands. you stopped in front of him and gently touched his arm.

“bad day?"

“yeah.” dex laughed quietly, it sounded broken.

you studied him for a moment, and he hated how easily you could read him. hated it because nobody else ever could - everybody else saw an agent, a weapon,,somebody dangerous. you saw him as your dex.

without saying another word, you took his jacket from his shoulders and hung it up near the door. you disappeared into the kitchen for a minute before returning with a steaming mug of tea.

“come sit down.”

normally dex would’ve argued and insisted he was fine. tonight he didn’t have the energy. he allowed you to guide him toward the couch, and the second he sat down, you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. the gesture was so simple, so stupidly gentle, it nearly made him cry.

he sat there staring into the tea while you settled beside him. outside, rain continued sliding down the windows. the music played softly in the background. neither of you spoke.

the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. with you, it never was. after a while he felt your head settle against his shoulder. the warmth of your body pressed against his side. the quiet rhythm of your breathing. and suddenly the apartment felt impossibly small and safe.

“i’m tired,” he admitted.

the words slipped out before he could stop them. your hand found his immediately.

“i know."

he swallowed hard.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this forever.”

for a moment you said nothing but squeezed his hand gently. outside, thunder rumbled.

“you don’t have to,” you finally said.

dex closed his eyes. something about that answer hurt. because it was kind, because you wasn’t trying to fix him, wasn’t trying to convince him everything would magically get better. you were simply giving him permission to exist - to be tired, to hurt, to be human.

he lowered his head until it rested against yours and for a long time you sat together listening to the rain. you talked quietly about your day after that. a movie you watched earlier, a recipe you wanted to try, a stray cat you saw outside the building. tiny meaningless stories that would’ve bored anybody else.

dex listened to every word because your voice soothed something inside him. you made ordinary things sound beautiful to him. you reminded him there was still a world outside violence and fear and duty.

a world where he belonged beside you. eventually you disappeared into the kitchen and returned with fresh cookies you baked while waiting for him. you placed the plate between him and smiled when he stared at it.

“you made these?”

“of course.”

for the first time all day, a real genuine chuckle escaped him - small and quiet but real. you grinned, satisfied at his reaction, and dex felt his heart twist because you looked happy you made him smile. you cared that much and somehow, against all logic, you chose him.

the rain continued falling long into the night. eventually the record stopped spinning. the apartment grew quieter and the city outside dissolved into darkness.

but dex found that he didn’t mind. for once he wasn’t thinking about fisk, work or tomorrow. he was lying beneath a blanket with you curled against his side, your hand resting over his heart as if you were protecting it.

for the first time in weeks, maybe months, the loneliness was gone. dex pressed a kiss against your hair and closed his eyes while the storm carried on outside but inside, everything was quiet. inside, he was finally home. with you.

you sit alone in the local bar late at night. having lived nearby for years, you've come to know this place well; it has become one of your regular hangout spots. lifting your eyes from a stack of homework, you take in the room around you. cigarette smoke hangs heavily in the air, blurring the dim lights overhead. conversations slur together beneath the scent of alcohol.

for a moment, you wonder what keeps bringing you back. suddenly, your attention drifts toward a man sitting alone in one of the darker corners of the bar, a half-finished beer resting in front of him. something about him immediately stands out. a few fresh cuts mark his face. he wears a black hoodie with the hood pulled low, casting shadows across his features. he looks much older than you.

you find yourself studying him longer than you intended. his expression remains unreadable, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. then his gaze shifts straight toward you. for a brief second, neither of you look away. the noise of the bar seems to fade into the background as those cold, intense eyes lock onto yours.

heat rushes to your face. great, now he probably thinks you're some weird creep. you curse yourself for staring so much. you lower your head and pretend to focus on your book, but you're not reading a single word. even with your eyes on the page, you can still feel him glaring. you try to distract yourself, finishing up your beer and focusing on your book.

few minutes later you look up to check if he's still watching. fuck, he's staring. he seems trouble. it makes you uneasy.

it's getting late, and the longer you stay, the more uncomfortable you feel. deciding you've had enough for tonight, you quickly pack your things into your bag - your book, notebook, pens, and markers. eager to get out of there, you barely look at the table before leaving. because of that, you don't notice the hair tie sitting near the edge of the desk.

"good night, jenny!" you tell the bartender that you adore and head out to go home. thank god, you exhale loudly as you feel the cold air hit your face.

"hey!"

fuck. your heart races when you hear the unfamiliar, deep voice behind calling for you. you feel like you're in trouble and start making plans how to escape. no, It's okay. you calm yourself and turn around to see the man you were staring at earlier. he's holding... your hair tie?

"oh!"

"you forgot bout' this, sweetheart" he holds out his hand. it takes a few seconds to process his words. the petname threw you off, as well as his rough voice. so you stood there awkwardly while he was waiting for you to take your tie.

"thank you." you finally breathe out, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. your fingers brush against his much bigger hands, you take a peek to down at them. you continue inspecting. they're huge, and calloused and a little bloody. some cuts here and there. interesting, you think.

"no problem, baby" another petname? he turns around to return to the bar. you feel warm. very warm. even though it's very chilly outside. your heart is beating so fast you can hear it ringing in your ears. damn you're pretty desperate, you blame yourself. curiosity getting the best of you, you step towards him.

"hey, um" what are you doing? what are you planning to say exactly?

the man turns around, looking you up and down suspiciously. silence. very awkward one. you don't know what to say but you know you want to say something. something to make him stay. he probably has wife and kids, you think to yourself.

"can you maybe walk me home, I-" you stumble over your words. wow, just dig your own grave at this point. some kind of evil spirit has to taken over your mind to offer something stupid like that. asking a stranger - a scary, old man, to be specific, to walk you home? home out of all the places? he's gonna know where you live? fuck me. you exhale a shaky breath.

"it's dark and late and I- don't really feel safe." you finish your sentence. hands shaking and fidgeting, face probably red as hell, standing there looking stupid. the man looks taken back, he looks like he was expecting anything other than that. he probably thought you were crazy. who wouldn't.

"you sure?" he puts his big dreamy hands up like he's defending himself and tilts his head to the side. "you wan' me to walk you home?" he seems really confused. eyebrows furrowed together. looking very skeptical of you.

"if you don't mind..." you rub your cold hand on your neck to chill out. swallowing hard and biting your lower lip in anticipation. It's probably your last day on earth. you want the ground to swallow you whole. there's no going back. nothing that can get you out of this situation you created.

"yeah- uh, sure" the man walks towards you. "you live close?" he asks. you nod and smile awkwardly at him. "lead the way" he starts walking next to you. you thank him and introduce yourself properly.

"I'm frank, nice to meet'cha you, too"

the walk home is quieter than you imagined. first of all, you're too nervous to talk. even if you do, you'll probably stutter and embarrass yourself harder. second of all, what do you even talk about, his favorite color? frank's quiet too. and tense. his favorite color is probably black, though...

"we're here" you exclaim, scanning over his features once again, like it's your last time seeing him. he has a strong jawline you want to kiss, big nose to sit on, pretty eyes to stare at while you ride him. you're getting distracted. "thank you so much, frank, I-"

"ts' okay, kid, need anythin' else?"

yeah, you in my bed, you think, but your answer comes out different. "no, but I appreciate it- thank you again," you smile and try to not look too disappointed that he's leaving and you'll never see him again. he wishes you a good night and turns around to leave. fuck. you stare at his broad back, hoping he'll turn around and kiss you or something, yeah sure. you take out keys out of your bag and open the door.

"hey, sweetheart?" the angels must have heard you. you look up at him so fast and try your hardest to hold back your smile. "mind invitin' me for a coffee? been a long day." jackpot.

"oh my god, yes of course, come in!" you don't want to sound too excited but the plan fails miserably. you open the door for him and finally, he's here. you'll believe in god after tonight. "what kind of coffee do you like?" you ask from the kitchen.

"just black" of course, you smile once you know he can't see you. you let the coffee machine pour his coffee, while you quickly check yourself in the bathroom mirror, you know, just in case something happens you look alright. you do. you go back and bring frank his drink.

"thank you, darlin'" does he run out of petnames? you don't mind, keep em' coming. you smile and sit in front of him on the couch, the coffee table separating you. suddenly you feel tension growing in the room. you have a stranger in your house, you remind yourself.

"place looks good, coffee's good, too" he mentions. you thank him and look down at your coffee. you really don't want to drink it right now. sudden anxiety washing over you. what if he's not a good guy? you ask yourself. frank notices your mood shift. he stands up to sit next to you. the couch dips and your ears start ringing, heart pounding. uh oh.

"you okay?" oh god, he's incredibly close. your thigh is touching his, you feel his hoodie on your arm. you want to see how close his face is.

"I'm okay" you whisper when you look at him. your voice coming out breathy and shaken, staring deeply in his eyes. frank looks down at your lips for a split second, then he looks at your eyes again.

"you don't look okay, sweetheart." he brings his hand to your jaw, brushing his thumb on your cheek. okay, that's just not fair. you feel the tension growing. you look down at his lips instinctively. fuck, you wanna kiss him so bad.

"are you singe?" you blurt out randomly. the question sounds out of pocket for a setting like this. frank seems taken back again, confused. "I just- don't wanna be a homewrecker or something like that" you look away from embarrassment. his hand is still on your face. that makes him chuckle.

"I'm single, baby, don' gotta worry abt' nothin'" fuuuuuck his voice and smile. your head is spiraling. you feel dizzy - it's probably because of those two bottles of beer you drank back at the bar, or is that just an excuse for how hot and bothered frank is making you right now. you exhale after hearing his answer. your eyes return on him. he's still too close, scanning your features.

you feel drunk, you're not even drunk. you decide to push your luck and lean in closer. frank brings both of his hands to cup your face. he hesitates before slowly bringing his lips to yours. the kiss feels so soft and delicate. not what you expected from a man like him. you feel him holding back on you.

fuck it. you deepen the kiss, grabbing at his biceps to hold yourself. he tilts your head to get a better access at your mouth. one of his hand goes down to hold your waist. his cold hand going under your shirt to feel your skin. you feel goosebumps at the touch. frank wraps the same hand around you to push you closer to him. your body flushing against his chest.

you feel the adrenaline spread throughout your body. frank moves his hand down to grab the beck of your thigh. you take this as a chance and climb on top of him, your legs spreading on his sides. his hips jerk at the contact. you feel him between your legs and fuck, how it makes you lose control. you're falling apart on top of him.

"you sure you wanna do this, baby?" frank breaks the kiss. you've never said yes so fast in your life. he scans your face, your lips puffy, cheeks red, hair messy, he thinks you look so gorgeous like this. "look at you, pretty girl" he tucks hair behind your ear and softly slides his knuckles at the side of your face, smiling. he brings your lips back to his, more desperate and hungry this time.

you're getting hot and needy every passing second, arms wrapping around his neck, one hand grabbing his hair. you decide to test your luck and roll your hips on his bulge and fuck, it feels so good you let out a whimper.

"easy" frank groans and stops you with a hand on your waist. "you wanna lead me to your bedroom, sweetheart?" his voice is low and deep, vibrating against your lips. you let out a breathy 'yes' and tell him where to take you.

frank picks you up with no struggle, it makes you shy and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. he plants a few kisses on your throat and places you down on the bed softly, getting on top of you. he's hovering over you with eyes filled with lust and wanting. he brings his palm back on your jaw and looks at you intensely. you look so breathtaking under the moonlight coming from the window.

frank can't hold himself anymore, he feels like losing control, but he doesn't want to scare you off. meanwhile, you grow impatient and push him down for a kiss. "slow down, sweetheart," he smiles into it.

"tell me what you want, baby" he whispers. you really don't want to answer that with words, you're probably going to say something stupid. but you push through it because you want him.

"I want you inside me, frank"

frank's grip on your waist tightens. he starts slowly placing kisses down your throat. then his lips move to the back of your ear. "I'm no good for you, baby" he whispers, leaving trails of wet kisses under your jaw. "you sure you wan' me?"

you look up at the ceiling with your mouth open from the pleasure. you feel the heat growing, wanting more. your nails are digging on his back, pushing him closer.

"yes" you moan out and it brings him to the edge. frank starts to undress you, leaving you bare with a bra and an underwear. he takes a good look at you up and down before he takes his clothes off.

you look away for a second, feeling shy underneath his gaze but he notices and holds your face with one hand. "don' go all shy on me, baby, ts' okay" he kisses your cheek and forehead and gets back to work. wet kisses going lower your body. frank takes your bra off with one swift move and kisses your hardened nipples, palming your boobs and squeezing them. he gets distracted staring for a bit too long and it makes you a little embarrassed, making you cover your face with your hands.

frank lets out a breathy chuckle at your act and pins both of your hands up your head. "don' hide from'me, sweetheart, lemme know if you wan' stop, alright?" you nod and he praises, "good girl" he kisses your forehead and moves one of his hands down to palm your pussy.

you whimper at the contact. his hand slides down your panties and his fingers start exploring you. frank gathers your slick and starts circling your clit. a soft moan escapes your mouth, you want to grab something, preferably his bicep to squeeze but his hand's still pinning you down.

"attagirl, tell me if sum ain't right, okay baby?" fuck, the way he's talking to you. you feel one of his fingers slide in and your head falls back, mouth open and eyes shut. he slides a second finger immediately after. the stretch feels so unbelievably good.

frank starts to set a rhythm with his fingers, pushing in and out of you slowly but hard while his thumb is pressing down your clit, messily moving around it. you're getting louder every passing second, pleasure overtaking your body and mind. you feel him sucking on your throat just beneath your jaw and ear and fuck how it adds to the sensation.

"frank, I think I'm getting closer" you barely manage to whisper, voice too shaky and broken. you have no other choice but to start digging your nails harshly in frank's wrist that's holding you down.

"you're doin' so good, baby, don' hold back, yeah?" he comes up to give you a deep, desperate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, biting your lower lip. you moan into him, your walls pulsing on his fingers. frank grunts into your neck at the feeling.

you feel the wave of orgasm crashing through you. your brain short-circuits at the sensations you've never felt before. "fuuuck, frank! " you scream out at the pleasure, you feel your legs shaking, nails digging through frank's skin but he doesn't stop yet. getting you through it until you start chanting his name over and over again from the overstimulation.

"good girl, baby" he finally lets go of your hands and kisses your cheek.

"you really didn't have to pin me down the whole time" you say after you're done breathing for your life.

"oh yeah?" his chuckle sounds rough but sweet. "you already tellin' me what to do, woman?" he jokes, and brings a pillow underneath you to make you comfortable.

"I jus wanted to touch your arms" you admit smiling, face probably red as a tomato.

frank takes a good look at your face while you're smiling. you see him softening up on you in real time, his eyes filled with love even though he just met you today. it makes your heart ache, this moment with him feels so raw and real.

for a few seconds, neither of you say anything. frank just keeps looking at you, like he's trying to memorize every little detail before it slips away. the smile on your face starts to feel impossible to hold, too big and too genuine. when he finally smiles back, it's small but sincere, the kind that reaches his eyes. something shifts between you then, quiet and unspoken, and suddenly the space separating the two of you doesn't feel quite so wide anymore.

you feel different kind of yearning this time. you want more, this isn't enough. you hold his face in your hands and bring him down for a messy kiss. you're trying to dominate but he doesn't let you. the kiss deepened in an instant, shifting from hesitant to something far more desperate, like neither of you can bear to pull away.

your hand slowly goes down to take his pants off, opening up his belt when he stops you midway through. "careful" he warns and pins your hands down again.

"need you, frank" you try to fight off his hands but he's too strong and your arms feel like liquid right now.

"need you more sweetheart, I jus' wanna make sure you really wan' this, yeah?" he whispers in your ear, voice low and dangerous. frank bites neck out of frustration. "been holdin' back too much, doll, didn't wanna hurt you."

"I know you're not gonna hurt me, honey, I trust you" finally your turn to use the petname. frank's heart melts when he hears the words coming out of your sweet mouth. you trust him.

he kisses you once again and kicks off his pants with his leg. you look down at his dick for a split second. it's not what you expect. he's big. really big. you swallow hard and exhale loudly. frank notices the worry on your face and holds your face.

"you tell me when to stop, yeah princess?"

you nod.

"lemme hear you, baby"

"yes, frank"

"attagirl"

frank turns you around on your stomach, putting one of the pillows underneath you. he grabs your hips and starts gathering your wetness with his tip. you whimper out at the contact. he's holding you steady and firmly against him, slowly pushing his cock inside? inch by inch. his fingers digging harshly on your sides.

"fuck" frank's head rolls back at the pleasure. he gathers all of your hair in his hand and pushes your head back, his mouth right behind your ear. "talk t'me baby, you gotta relax a little cuz' fuck-" he stutters over his words when he feels your walls pulsing on him.

"too tight" he exhales and starts moving slowly. you're grabbing the sheets with whatever force you have left in you. the stretch feeling way different this time. it stings hard but the sensation of it feels otherworldly. your eyes roll back when you feel frank setting up the pace, ass slapping against him with the rhythm.

if the overstimulation wasn't enough, he brings a finger to your clit and starts circling it while his pace keeps picking up. pounding into you hard with every move. your limbs betray you, only thing keeping you up are frank's hands and the pillow underneath you.

"frank!" you cry out his name, feeling too overwhelmed and desperate chasing your high. frank notices your walls fluttering around him and he already knows you're close. he grabs you by your neck, softly squeezing it while he slams inside you at the new angle.

"you're gonna cum on my dick, baby? gonna be a good girl f'me?" he groans behind you, voice shaky, falling apart inside you.

"yes, frank, wanna cum on your dick, please, please, please" you moan out, completely fucked out, blabbering frank's name every second, hands digging in the sheets desperately, pussy pulsing aggressively around him. his hand goes back from your throat to your clit once again. he presses down on it and it males your whole body jerk and shake, the pleasure overtaking you. you didn't even get to process, it just happened. frank smiled behind you, feeling you orgasm around him.

"good girl, did so good f'me" he keeps going harder and faster to chase his own release now. you feel so tired and liquid but he still feels so good. you love the overstimulation you feel. "gonna cum inside you, doll, wanna fill you up" he grunts and in a few thrusts, you feel his release flowing inside you, making you feel so full and warm.

his body is slumps over you for a second, both of you breathing hard and loud before he pulls out and lays down on the bed. frank kindly turns you to your side so he can hug you to his chest. "you okay, sweetheart?" he asks as he strokes your hair and kisses your temple softly.

"just a little tired" you mumble, voice too quiet against his neck.

"lemme clean you up, princess, I'll be right back inna sec'" he gets up and goes to the bathroom, returning with a wet warm towel, softly massaging your legs with it. "all nice n' clean" he finds a new pair of underwear for you and helps you put it on alongside a loose shirt for the night. he returns to the bed and you’re already halfway gone, eyes heavy, breathing slowing in that soft way that tells him you’re close to falling asleep.

“there you go…” he murmurs, almost to himself, pulling the covers up over both of you. you shift closer without thinking, your body already knows you're safe with him. his arm slides around you, firm but gentle, holding you in place against him.

“you're perfect,” he whispers into your hair, pressing one last kiss there, lingering just a second too long. but you don’t answer. you’re already asleep.

frank stays awake a moment longer, just watching you, thumb tracing a slow, absent line over your shoulder until he stops. then he finally lets his eyes fall shut too, pulling you a little closer, and even though this is new, it sits with him like something familiar he didn’t know he was missing. he’s already sure he’ll want more of you every night after this.

it’s late at night. you’re outside alone, drunk and tired after a party your friends forced you to go to. you sit down at the random bench, looking up at the sky. lots of stars tonight, you think to yourself.

you look down at your phone. 4:56am. you glance at 32 unread messages from dex. you take a single cigarette that your friend gave you out of your purse and light it up.

you get flashbacks of the fight you had with him. everything hits harder now that you’re drunk and vulnerable. tears slowly fall down your eyes. you look down at the ground and curse yourself. your phone buzzes again.

33 unread messages from dex.

you let out this weak laugh that sounds more miserable than amused and bring the cigarette back to your lips with shaking fingers.

where are you?

please answer.

did i do something wrong?

can you just tell me if you’re okay?

the cigarette burns slowly between your fingers while cars pass in the distance. the city feels strangely empty this late. cold. like the entire world has gone quiet except for the noise in your head. you close your eyes for a second and immediately hear his voice again.

“you don’t even look at me anymore.”

the argument started over something stupid. dex asked if you wanted to stay over at his apartment tonight. you said you already promised your friends you’d go out with them. he got quiet after that. you knew what was coming before it even started.

“you’ve been avoiding me.”

“i’m not avoiding you, dex.”

“then why does it feel like I have to beg to see you lately?”

you remember feeling exhausted immediately. the second he said it, something inside you just slumped in defeat. because there was no right answer anymore. if you apologized, he’d ask if you still loved him. if you got defensive, he’d shut down completely.

so instead you just rubbed your face tiredly and whispered, "can we not do this tonight?”

and dex looked at you in this awful way. like you’d just confirmed his worst fear.

you inhale smoke too hard and start coughing. your eyes sting. you don’t know if it’s from the cigarette or crying. another buzz.

you unlock your phone finally. 33 messages become visible all at once.

please answer me.

i’m sorry.

you can stay out if you want i just want to know you’re safe.

i know i ruined tonight for you.

please don’t ignore me.

i love you.

i’m sorry for making everything difficult.

can you just say something?

your chest hurts. because even now, even after everything, you know he means every word. that’s the problem. if dex were cruel, leaving would be easier. but he loves you so earnestly that it feels like drowning in something soft. you stare at the messages until your vision blurs.

then your phone rings.

dex.

your thumb hovers over the screen for a long time before you finally answer. there’s silence for a second. then his voice. small. careful.

“hey.”

you close your eyes.

“hey.”

he exhales shakily like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

“where are you?”

“outside.”

“outside where?”

“i don’t know. somewhere downtown.”

another pause. you can hear him moving around in his apartment restlessly.

“are you drunk?”

“a little.”

“are you safe?”

you laugh weakly again. “you ask me that every time.”

“because i worry.”

“dex…”

your voice breaks unexpectedly. the silence on the other end changes instantly.

“hey,” he says softly. “don’t cry.”

that almost makes it worse. tears slide down your cheeks harder now and you wipe at them angrily.

“i’m not.”

“you are.”

you hear him grab his keys.

“stay where you are. i’ll come get you.”

immediately your stomach twists. because the second you see him, you’ll forgive him again. because the second he touches you gently, you’ll remember how much you still love him.

"okay" you give up.

when you see him, the morning is already bleeding into the sky. he looks like he hasn’t slept. hair messy, eyes tired, hands shoved into his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them. he stops when he sees you.

you stand up slowly. for a second, neither of you speaks. then he says your name. soft - like it’s something fragile. you walk to him without thinking and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

“you scared me,” he says quietly.

“i told you i was outside.” you shrug.

“that’s not what i meant.” he steps closer. “we’ve been getting worse,” he says.

“yeah.” you laugh weakly.

he nods like that hurts more than he expected.

“i don’t know how to fix it.”

you look at him then and see he’s trying so hard it almost breaks you. but trying isn’t the same as changing. and you don’t know how to tell him that without destroying him. so you just say, “me neither.”that lands heavier than anything else.

“i keep thinking if i say the right thing, maybe it’ll go back to normal.”

your eyes burn again.

“me too.”

that seems to break something in him a little. dex covers his face with one hand, breathing shakily. you move toward him automatically and your fingers touch his wrist gently.

he looks at you immediately.there’s so much love in his expression it nearly makes you cry again. you lean forward and kiss him softly but desperately at the same time, like you’re trying to save something.

dex kisses you back carefully at first, then deeper, one hand sliding shakily against your jaw. for a few seconds it feels normal again. familiar. warm. then you pull away and the sadness comes rushing back immediately. because kisses don’t fix things anymore.

"lets get you home, sweetheart" dex rests his forehead against yours.

the ride home is filled with heavy silence. he's holding your hand, like it's keeping him sane. he's breathing louder and deeper. dex can't bring himself to look at you because he thinks he'll break down immediately.

he helps you go up the stairs of his apartment, his big calloused hand firm on the small of your back. you're not drunk anymore but still wobbly, your legs are tired and you give up. you stand still and look up at dex.

"c'mere baby" he picks you up bridal style immediately. placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "you're so tired, aren't you?" he whispers and takes you into his apartment, laying you down on his bed.

"thank you, dex" you say while refusing to let go of his neck, you pull him into you. his face in the crook of your neck. his hands find your waist and wrap his arms around you.

"we gotta take the clothes off, honey" he grumbles in your neck. he inhales your smell and exhales loudly, all the stress leaving his body now that he's back in your arms.

"I'm too sleepy, benji"

he smiles at the nickname and starts kissing your neck, slowly getting to your face. dex stares deeply into your eyes.

"I love you" he whispers.

"I love you, too"

he slowly kisses your lips, like he's afraid you'll break. his hands are shaking nervously at your sides so he tries to put some force on you, squeezing your waist. the kiss gets desperate soon enough. your breath turns shaky but he can't let go of you. he slides his hand on your throat and slightly presses his fingers around you.

dex starts to go down your neck, placing soft kisses at the corner of your mouth, then at your jaw, behind your ear, at your collarbone. he squeezes your throat harder.

"I don't know how to live without you" he admits with shaky voice, letting go of you. you bring both of your hands up to hold his face, softly smiling at him with teary eyes.

"my pretty boy" you kiss his cheek, his forehead, his nose and corners of his mouth. then back to his lips again. he exhales through the kiss, which gets very messy afterwards. dex trying to hold you everywhere, his hands moving from your arms to your waist and hips then holding the backs of your thighs. you grab the back of his hair to try to push him unimaginably closer to you.

"I need you", he goes back to your throat once again, softly biting your neck. "I need you so bad", he exhales loudly, his hands bruising your waist.

"I'm all yours, dex" you whisper in his ear and he loses all his senses at your words. he aggressively tugs at your dress, trying desperately to take it off while leaving marks all over your neck.

you take this as a chance to pull his shirt up and he helps you pull it over his head. dex's eyes find you when your dress comes off, you nod at him. you're just as desperate as him. you missed this more than anything.

"fuck", you whimper once you feel his mouth between your chest, his cold hands easily taking your bra apart. dex starts to kiss your chest, sucking your hardened nipple while squeezing another one. he starts to go down your stomach, looking up at you to make sure you're okay. you feel butterflies when you see his needy eyes filled with lust.

dex doesn't stop, he keeps going lower and lower. he reaches your legs and pushes them apart to make space for himself. you try to fight it but it's no use.

"don't be shy, sweetheart", he kisses inside of your thighs, already feeling your heat. then he pushes your panties to the side and places a breathy kiss directly on your clit. your hands immediately find his hair, angrily tugging on him.

"dex.." you moan out and he feels like he's in heaven. he starts to explore your cunt, feeling your sweetness and it makes your head go backwards, eyes closing at the pleasure.

"are you this wet for me, honey?" dex asks, his mouth still on your exposed pussy. he just can't let go of you.

"mhmm" you barely manage to mumble, pleasure taking over your body but he's not satisfied.

"I need to hear you say it, baby" he pushes his tongue deep inside your hole. "please, for me".

your eyes roll back, exhaling loudly. he uses the chance to push two of his fingers inside. "yes, dex" you moan out a bit too quickly at the new sensation. his fingers already making you feel stretched out and full.

"good girl" he breathes into you again, his breath making you shiver. you feel goosebumps all over your body. "you taste so good, so sweet, just f'me".

hearing the praise, you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. your hand tugs at his hair harder, pushing him closer to you and it makes him groan. you feel the vibrations all over your body and you feel like you're seeing stars. your moans getting louder and messy, chanting his name like a prayer.

"dex, I'm close, I'm so close, please don't stop, please" you beg desperately, trying to keep yourself together but failing miserably.

"I know, baby, I know, let go f'me, you're doing so good" the praise sends you over the edge and you feel the knot in your body releasing. you feel the orgasm crashing through your whole body, making you shake and moan uncontrollably.

dex keeps kissing you through it, trying to make it last longer for you. he licks up all the wetness and doesn't seem like he wants to stop anytime soon until you weakly push his head away.

he comes up to you while you're panting, already too tired and phased out. dex can't help himself and stares at you while you calm down. "you're perfect" his hand comes up to stroke your cheek and wipe the small tear away from your eye.

he goes in for a kiss. you taste yourself on his mouth and tongue. it all gets messier again, neither of you can breathe properly. dex pushes his bulge between your legs, trying to feel some kind of friction because he's been holding it back too much now.

"need to be inside you, baby, please" he begs, voice shaky and desperate. you tug at his pants and help him take it off. dex exhales once again and presses his cock inside your folds. he immediately loses himself at the contact and pushes his face in the crook of your neck.

"fuuuuck" he moans out while pushing the tip inside you. gathering your slick and pushing it in one strong motion. you almost choke on your breath, feeling the drastic stretch of his dick inside you. your walls flutter around him.

"dex!" you scream out his name, eyes rolling back, your nails dig harshly at his back. dex loses himself inside you, he's going feral. his pace picking up way too quickly, completely drunk in you.

"need you, need you so goddamn much" he chants the same words over and over again. you feel the second orgasm building up even though your body is tired. dex feels your walls squeeze around him. his hand goes up your throat, long fingers wrapping around your neck, softly squeezing it to make you look up at him. his cock twitches at the eye contact, he feels himself getting close too.

"don't look away from me, sweetheart, okay? eyes on me" he says and slides his hand down your folds, finding your clit and slowly circling around it. you lose you control but try to follow his command, eye contact making you feel dizzy and shy, your face turning even more red than it already is. dex chuckles at that and brings up his hand again to hold your pretty face.

"I can't last any longer, pretty" his pace picks up "I need to..." he forgets to finish his sentence, solely focusing on your orgasm before he crashes. he kisses your lips harshly, biting your lower lip and holding your face impossibly closer to him.

you moan into the kiss, into his mouth, feeling another release shock throughout your body again. it hits way harder than the first one, eyes rolling back, seeing stars, screaming out dex's name and desperately digging your nails into his skin. he watches you carefully. your pleasure is his last straw as he uncontrollably finishes and fills you up fully. not letting a single drop leak out of you.

dex exhales and drops his body on top of you, his face in your neck, your hands immediately wrapping around his back. he hugs you back, turning you over to the side and pushing your face against his chest, softly stroking your hair, kissing your forehead.

"I'm sorry" he whispers above your head.

"why?" you ask.

"for not being good enough"

you push yourself up to look at him, holding his face in your hands. "honey-" you start but he interrupts you.

"no, you don't have to- I know, okay? I know you deserve better than me, I know that" he sounds frustrated, all his pent up emotions finally breaking out. "it's just that- I need you to stay, okay? I- I promise-"

he looks at you with so much love in his eyes, softly rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "I promise I'll be better" he admits with teary eyes. "I'm trying, I'm trying really hard"

"I know, honey" you wipe away his tears. "I love you"

"I can't handle not being around you" his voice sounds broken. "I need you to breathe- to think, to feel normal" dex kisses you again, like he's trying to make you understand what he's feeling. "only you can fix me"

“you don't need any fixing, dex. we’re gonna be alright, okay? i promise” your smile immediately melts his heart, the tension in his face slowly softening beneath your hands. for a second he just looks at you quietly, like he’s trying to memorize every part of you before the moment disappears.

“you really think so?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you whisper. “i do.”

dex lets out a shaky breath and leans into your touch without even realizing it. he looks exhausted, emotionally wrung out, but calmer now. safer somehow. like your hands on his face are enough to keep the world from falling apart for one more night.

you brush your thumb beneath his eyes gently. “you don’t have to carry everything alone all the time.”

his lashes lower slightly at that.

“i don’t know how not to.”

“then we’ll figure it out together.”

the words settle over him slowly. you can see it happening in real time - the panic easing, the fear loosening its grip around his chest. he wraps his arms around your waist carefully, forehead pressing against yours while he closes his eyes.

“i love you so much,” he murmurs, voice rough with emotion. “sometimes it scares me.”

your chest aches hearing that. you kiss him softly this time, slow and lingering, and he melts into it immediately. no desperation now. no panic. just warmth. when you pull away, he stays close enough that your noses still brush together.

outside, rain taps softly against the apartment windows. the room feels warm and dim and sleepy, your favorite lamp casting gold light across the floor while dex holds onto you like you’re something precious.

maybe neither of you knows what the future looks like yet. maybe there are still hard days waiting. but right now, he’s here. your hands are in his hair. his heartbeat is steady beneath your palms. and for the first time in a while, neither of you feels like you’re losing each other.

when you first met daredevil, he was getting beaten up by bunch of guys. being a vigilante yourself, you couldn't ignore the man in need of help and decided to step in. at first, he was confused, who you were, why you helped him - he hasn't met someone like you before.

"you're in pretty bad shape, I could patch you up at my place if you'd like" you offered after you realized he was another masked vigilante just like you.

he was taken back with your kindness, the way you took a stranger in your house, the way you patched him up, made him the most delicious sandwich he ever had and let him sleep on your couch.

matt had a gut feeling that he could trust you and introduced himself on the same night, you two exchanged each other's secret identities, stories and he had no other choice but you ask you out on a date.

"you were too kind to me, sweetheart, I have to pay you back" his voice. his goddamn sweet voice makes you melt and your mouth betrays you, immediately agreeing to his offer way before your mind processes it.

matt murdock appreciates that he has someone like you who understands him by his side. he feels like you're the only one that shares the same values as him and feels the responsibility to help those in need. he doesn't get that feeling of loneliness anymore when you're around and completely and utterly trusts you to talk about his secrets, missions or plans.

nevertheless, you two worry about each other a lot - constantly checking up on one another, calling, texting, sharing locations. doesn't matter where he is, daredevil always recognizes your heartbeat and comes to the rescue if needed.

there are moments when you two randomly bump into each other during missions - he loves fighting alongside you, loves when you help him take down the bad guys and feels proud of how strong you are.

matt also likes sparring with you. loves to pin your hands down and kiss you but also enjoys being taken down himself a bit too much. he won't admit but sometimes he doesn't use 100% of his powers and just wants to feel your touch - even though you never go easy on him.

your arguments usually start when either of you get hurt and do something reckless to get in trouble - which you both do. neither of you like to nag but sometimes it's just inevitable. especially when matt decided it was a good idea to save fisk from a gunshot. after defeating the task force and getting to frank's hideout, you couldn't hold it in anymore and started screaming at him.

"I don't understand why would you do this, matt. I get that you don't kill anyone because of your morals but at least let the man die! what were you thinking? what if you died?!"

he just sighs and listens until you're done screaming at him - he knows he was reckless and can't even argue with you.

now regarding his hearing abilities, matt has completely analyzed you: the way you breathe, the way your heart beats, the way your bones shift, your smell. he is way too observant and can read you like an open book anytime. he knows when your mood has shifted, he knows if something is bothering you, he knows everything.

if you even dare to try to hide that you're upset, he'll come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist and plant his head in your neck.

"I know something's wrong, sweetheart, you can't hide it from me"

everyone knows matt murdock is popular with ladies, you have known that since you first got together. when overthinking gets to you, you feel a little insecure about yourself. asking questions to yourself: why did he choose you. sometimes those bad thoughts get too loud in your mind - but matt notices, he always notices.

matt will keep planting soft kisses on your shoulder, turn you around, kiss your forehead, cheeks, corners of your lips and won't stop 'til you talk to him.

"I only care about you" he reassures you every time. "I only love you, sweetheart, no one else" he kisses your tears away, softly whispering sweet words to you.

daredevil shows his love with actions - if you don't feel like talking and he can't pressure you with kisses anymore, matt will try to show you he's there with physical affection: he won't leave your side, softly stroking your shoulders, leaving kisses, lots of hugs. he really doesn't like giving you space unless you directly ask for it because what can he do... he just doesn't want you to feel alone when you're hurting.

"you know I love my pretty girl so much I can't leave her alone, right?" he jokes, trying his hardest to make you smile (it works on you every time). "there she is" he says, satisfied with himself.

matt also loves to spoil you endlessly. he buys you flowers every week, takes you out to fancy restaurants every once in a while - though, he enjoys quality time with you the most: waking up and sleeping cuddled up with you, preparing breakfast and dinner for you, fighting alongside you and showering with you after.

daredevil cannot go a day without teasing you. he feels your eyes every time he takes his uniform off, the way your breath stops. he really tries but can't help himself when he feels your arousal.

"I know I'm blind but my eyes are up here, honey" he jokes, already knowing you're blushing and looking away.

"you do like staring at me a little too much, don't you, sweetheart?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, matt"

"oh yeah? then why're your thighs pressed together?"

you throw a pillow at him that he easily catches.

your mind completely betrays you every time you see him go to work. that goddamn t-shirt that's too tight on him... you question your morals. don't think he won't notice that too - he never shuts up about it. "should I wear this more often? does it look good on me?" matt jokes. you want to slap yourself.

when the punisher first saw you, fighting alongside with daredevil, he was immediately hooked. you seemed pretty strong for a pretty girl, he thought. frank couldn't get his eyes off you - kept trying to focus on bashing some faces but his eyes stared back at you every time.

"red, who is she?" he asks matt.

after you three go back to the hideout, he sees you struggling to patch yourself up and decides to step in. you let him messily stitch your skin and him put bandage on some cuts.

"you were pretty good back there but you gotta know your limits, sweetheart" he says while you wince from the pain.

frank grows overprotective of you quickly - he puts his number on your phone. "call me if you need anythin', okay?", you nod and stare at his pretty sad eyes.

getting closer with the punisher is not simple. he has big walls built around him and barely lets anyone in because of his tragic past. "he's not an easy man", matt warns you about him - but it's too late. you're already interested, so is frank.

one night frank castle gets a call from you. he answers in a second, immediately worried about your safety, "what's wrong, where are you?". he doesn't hesitate for a second, putting his boots and jacket on.

"frank, I'm sorry to call so late-"

"forget ab' it, tell me where you are, I'll be there"

you explain that you already tried calling your emergency contacts (matt) with no success and that you were shot in the shoulder, badly injured, while hiding from the task force. frank clutches the phone so hard it almost breaks.

"okay, just hide somewhere safe, can you do that f'me, sweetheart?"

he shows up to your rescue in nearly ten minutes if not sooner. you exhale the breath you didn't know you were holding. frank scoops you up with no struggle, taking you to his truck. you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, muttering apologies for waking him up in the middle of the night. he takes you to his hideout and starts patching you up once again.

"we gotta stop meeting like this" you mutter to yourself.

"right" he chuckles and it makes you smile too.

frank loves to baby you - always makes sure you're not cold or hungry. whenever he stays over, he cooks something for you even though he's not the best at it, he cleans up any mess, takes the trash out, fixes anything that needs to be fixed.

he's also very observant and immediately knows if something's wrong. when you show up at his place, once again all bruised and tired with wobbly lower lip and sad teary eyes, he takes you in without thinking. preparing a warm bath, food and tea for you. he washes your hair, checks for any injuries and hugs you to sleep.

one thing he's not good at is talking. whenever there's too much on his mind, he keeps it to himself saying "I don't want to involve you with my problems" when you just want to help. there are days he's stays quiet, sometimes avoiding you, trying to not take his heavy heart out on you. he wants your world to be just sunshines and rainbows.

"It's not okay to bottle up all your feelings, baby" you tell him, planting soft kisses all over his face and it breaks him. he melts into your touch. frank places his face in the crook of your neck and lets a few tears fall out.

sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night, his nightmares getting the best of him. you're always there to comfort him, tell him everything's okay and you're both safe. he tells you stories about his family and you always listen, softly stroking his hand. he feels better afterwards and wants to repay you back so he takes you on a date or buys you something you want.

"you're too sweet to me, babygirl"

frank likes seeing you in your uniform too much to admit. he likes staring while you fight. he doesn't admit that your aggression and anger during combat, turns him on.

"where did a pretty girl like you learn how to fight like that, huh?" he smiles, proud the way you broke someone's face. safe to say, he's amused by you. that doesn't stop him from being worried though.

he's never relaxed when you two go on missions together - always keeping eyes on you, checking up every five minutes if you're doing okay. you have to reassure him, you can handle yourself. he's proud that you know how to fight and protect yourself but he doesn't trust it completely.

his mind goes batshit crazy when you put yourself in dangerous situations - it always leads to a heated argument. he knows he's being a little hypocrite, considering how much trouble he gets in himself but he cares about you more than himself - that's his excuse. nevertheless, heated arguments usually lead you two on the couch. you on his lap, his hands on your hips.

"you don' know what you do to me, baby" he kisses your neck. "I jus' don' like you bruised and cut, sweetheart, you're too pretty for shit like that" you roll your eyes, cheeks flushed.

frank castle is an old fashioned man. he likes to bring flowers every time he shows up at your place. he wishes to take you out on more dates but because of his identity and work, he isn't around often.

"you deserve better than me, honey" he says, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.

"but I want you, frank" his heart melts every time he hears it.

the relationship between you and dex was never supposed to exist in the first place. fisk had sent him after you with one simple order: kill the new vigilante before she becomes a problem. dex expected it to be easy.

you were inexperienced back then, learning how to fight, patching up your own wounds. you made mistakes and you trusted people too easily.

he spent weeks stalking you before finally making a move. he learned everything about you with precision - where you worked, what time you left your apartment, the routes you took home at night.

dex watched all of it from rooftops, hidden in shadows, silently questioning why someone like you even existed. somewhere along the way, killing you stopped becoming the mission. instead, he became protective.

if someone hurt you during patrol, dex would hunt them down afterward without you even realizing it. people started disappearing after laying hands on you. you never connected it to him at first. not until you caught him one night. he was sitting on the edge of a rooftop, completely still, his mask off.

“you’ve been following me,” you accused.

dex tilted his head slightly. “you just noticed?".

you should’ve run but instead, you stayed.

after that, everything between you became messy and complicated and impossible to define. some nights he would appear beside you during patrol like a ghost, helping you fight before disappearing again without explanation. other nights he’d climb through your apartment window at ridiculous hours just to sit there silently while you stitched cuts on your face.

dex loves your vigilante outfit. he notices when you change the gloves after splitting your knuckles too many times. he notices new tears in the fabric before you do. he likes watching the way the suit moves with you while you fight.

sometimes he sits somewhere above the street just watching you fight for hours. not because he thinks you need help. he just likes looking at you.

he memorized everything about you with the same obsessive focus he once used for targets. the way your voice changes when you're exhausted. the tiny pause before you lie. the way you clench your jaw whenever you're angry but trying to hide it. he could tell it was you from a single footstep.

he knew you better than anyone else did. which was exactly why the relationship scared you. because you were supposed to be the good guy. dex wasn’t.

you spent months hiding him from everyone. matt would’ve lost his mind if he found out. but every time you tried ending things, dex would look at you with that horrible wounded expression that made your chest ache. he loved you so intensely it almost felt dangerous.

then he got arrested and suddenly, he was gone from your life completely. the city felt wrong afterward. too quiet. no shadow following you across rooftops. no knives landing perfectly beside enemies before they could touch you. no late-night knocks at your window.

even though you missed him constantly, you knew seeing him would only make things worse. if anyone discovered the relationship, they’d use you against him. or worse - use him against you. the guilt ate at you every single day.

when he finally got out, angry and frustrated, standing in your apartment at two in the morning, you were surprised.

“why didn’t you come see me?” he asked quietly. his voice sounded hurt. “i waited for you.”

he looked exhausted standing there, staring at you like he’d been holding himself together by pure force. there was anger in his expression, but underneath it was something worse. pain.

“they were watching me,” you whispered. “i was trying to protect you.”

dex laughed bitterly. “protect me? you disappeared.”

before you could answer, he stepped closer suddenly, grabbing your face with both hands like he needed to make sure you were real. his breathing was uneven. frantic.

“do you have any idea what that did to me?”

you kissed him before he could say anything else. the second your lips touched his, all the anger melted into desperation. dex kissed you like a drowning man, rough and messy and almost painfully intense. one of his hands slid into your hair while the other stayed tight against your jaw like he was terrified you’d disappear again.

when you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

"I missed you so much" he says and you notice a tear falling on his cheek.

"I missed you more, dex"

he becomes even more possessive after getting out. before prison, he was obsessive in a controlled way. afterward, it's almost instinctive. his hand is always on you somehow - fingers hooked through your belt loops, palm against your lower back, arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

he starts showing up during your patrols again almost immediately, except now he stays beside you instead of lurking in the shadows. criminals recognize him instantly and panic the second they see him standing next to you.

before, he’d get angry in a detached sort of way. after prison, seeing you hurt genuinely unsettles him. if you come home bleeding, he goes terrifyingly quiet while patching you up, jaw clenched so tightly it looks painful.

“it’s not that bad,” you tell him once after dislocating your shoulder.

dex stares at the bruise forming across your skin with an expression cold enough to make your stomach twist.

“who did this?”

dex starts leaving random things at your apartment until eventually half the place belongs to him. knives hidden in drawers. jackets thrown over your couch. expensive coffee he insists tastes better than yours. he complains constantly when you steal his clothes but secretly loves it every time.

sometimes you catch him staring at you while you’re doing completely mundane things. washing dishes. folding laundry. reading your favorite books.

“what?” you ask eventually.

dex blinks slowly like he forgot you could notice him staring.

“nothing.”

but his expression softens in that rare way that almost nobody else ever gets to see. like he still can’t believe you’re real.