A girl dreams of having a masterlist of her own, and ladies, gentleman, and other folks, today that dream comes true for this girl. Here's a list of my work so far! (please don't feed my writing to AI)
(Marvel)
Benjamin Poindexter x Reader
"Meet"-Cute : You meet a cute stranger on your walk home.
New Girl: The New York FBI office needs an immediate cyber agent transfer, and that just so happens to be you. You meet a handsome agent who shows you around the office.
First Date (New Girl pt.2): Your new co-worker from the bureau takes you out on a date.
Summary: Your new co-worker from the bureau takes you out on a date.
Warnings: light sexual innuendo (nothing too crazy) and some swearing i think?
Word count: 3.8k
Author's Note: We're going to move past the fact that its been over a month since I posted pt.1... Anyways, enjoy, and thanks to everyone for being so supportive of pt.1!! It actually meant the world. Feedback is always welcome and pt. 3 is in the works (but I make no promises on time 🫣)
Friday couldn't get here fast enough. Not only was the anticipation for your hot date with your new and supercute co-worker building, but this week had absolutely kicked your ass in ways you didn't even know asses could be kicked.
Luckily, it was Thursday night and it was a party of two: you, and the couch that came with the apartment.
You'd been assigned a mentor, Diana, who had been working as a cyber agent in the New York office for over 20 years, who always seemed to have a stick up her you-know-where. All of your knowledge in counterintelligence and counter-terrorism had been accumulated from intense training in Quantico, but you still felt unsettlingly unprepared for the more real-life scenarios Diana was training you for. You'd even gone out on a field mission once, where you went to the Mayor's office to deal with some hacked systems, and you got to wear your the navy FBI windbreaker for the first time. Needless to say, it had been an eventful first week.
You hadn't seen much of Dex since your first day.
You'd caught him in the elevator once, but just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, Director Hattley walked in and ruined any possibility of an interaction beyond a smile and a "Good morning" between you and Dex. Just your luck. And it seemed like he had been put on some special detail assignment, which meant he had been out of the office pretty much every day since.
Against your better judgment, you found your imagination getting carried away with the idea of what Friday night would bring.
You hadn't heard from Dex, which wasn't surprising considering you hadn't exchanged contact information, but you found your anxious mind wondering if he had somehow forgot. Or if he was just a cruel jerk. Your mind began acting out every scenario you could think of, where he wouldn't contact you before your date and you ended up feeling like such a fool for something that wasn't your fault.
Your phone started ringing on the cushion next to you. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Y/n, hi. It's Dex. How are you?" You'd forgotten how gravelly his voice was.
"Dex. Hi! I'm good." You stood up, beginning to pace. "How… How'd you get my number?" you asked, mainly relieved that he hadn't forgotten about you (and why would he have?), partly out of curiosity of what he had to do to get a hold of your phone number.
"Oh, yeah," he said, chuckling lightly. "I hope I didn't freak you out. I asked Dan. I just figured, since I might not make it to the office tomorrow morning, I just wanted to see if you were still up for tomorrow night," he explained.
"Dan?"
"Yeah, sorry, the receptionist."
"Oh, right!" you said. You figured if anyone had the employee's contact information, it would be the receptionist. You wondered in the back of your mind if Dan would really just give out agents' information to other agents, but you brushed it off. Cute guy called you! "Yeah, I'm glad you called," you confessed. "I was worried I wouldn't see you in the office tomorrow."
"Yeah, the bureau has had me on this really intense posting. But, there's this jazz bar that I heard is really great. If you wanted to check it out."
Jazz. It was perfect — you'd always dreamed of visiting a jazz bar in a big city (thanks La La Land). You cleared your throat. "Sounds great," you replied, trying to mask your enthusiasm with a cool and collected tone.
"Great. How about I pick you up at your apartment, around 7?"
"I'll text you the address."
"See you tomorrow, y/n."
The end tone follows.
You bring your phone down from your ear, staring at it in the palm of your hand in bewilderment. Although, there was really nothing to be bewildered about. The guy that had asked you on a date called you to make plans for said date - this was a totally predictable scenario. But that did nothing to settle your fluttering heart or to stop the smile from growing on your face.
"Holy shit," you breathed. You needed an outfit.
You'd left most of your clothes back at your apartment in Quantico, meaning you'd have to get creative with whatever you already had.
You digged through the drawers in the bedroom frantically, when you thought of just the right person to call.
The dial tone ensued as you waited for Ava's face to appear on your phone.
"I take it you have some news for me," Ava suggested, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that always kinda freaked you out.
"Nothing crazy. He was just setting up the details for tomorrow night. But that's not the important part. The important part is that I have nothing. To wear."
She snorted. "You should wear that yellow top with the brown pants you wore to the office that one time."
Your jaw dropped. "That was one time!"
"And that was enough."
You rolled your eyes. "Ava, please."
"Fine. But I need details."
"We're going to a jazz bar."
"Shut up. You're telling me that in your first week of being in New York, you managed to get your really cute coworker to ask you out, on the first day of knowing you, mind you, and then he asks you to go to a freaking jazz bar? And you're about to fulfill your dream of going to one ever since you saw that movie?"
You scoffed. "Well, if anyone could pull it off…" you shrugged, teasing. You could barely believe it yourself.
"This is everything. But, okay, back to the task at hand. Outfits…" She looked up, thinking. After a few seconds of her doing this, you pause.
"Wait. Are you, like, going through a mental catalogue of all my clothes?"
"Well, I'm definitely not admiring my ceiling. Remember that wet spot I told my landlord to look at? I think it's getting bigger… OH, why don't you wear the black boat-neck with your jeans?"
You grabbed the clothes from your drawers and laid them out on the bed. You could have picked this outfit on your own, but not without having tried out 12 different outfits beforehand. "You don't think I'll look too… office-y?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "No, I don't think so. Besides, I think you care more about your outfit than he will. He'll be too distracted by your mere presence to notice if you wore that same shirt to work. Or…"
"What?" you asked, grinning. You knew where she was going with this.
"Or he's going to be busy thinking about what you look like without your clothes on."
"Ava!" you scolded, shielding your reddening face with your hand. "Nothing is going to happen."
"Hey, I'm just trying to keep you open-minded. And remember, you're gonna be transferred out any day now. Do now, regret later." Her famous motto.
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep a flustered smile from growing on your face, but failing.
"Anyway, I gotta go. Text me after you're date! Unless you guys get busy…" She did the same freaky eyebrow wiggle at you.
Ava snickered at the playfully venomous stare you were giving her. "I'm hanging up now," you said.
"No! Wait, wait," she said laughing and putting her hands up in mock surrender. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."
It was Friday evening, and you arrived back at your apartment having completed your first official week as a cyber agent in the New York FBI office. The entire day, the idea of your date with Dex had brought an undeniable pip to your step that was beyond your control. Which was trouble because you were a serious FBI agent. You couldn't get caught twirling your hair because you were thinking about a boy at work.
But that didn't stop you from thinking about a boy all day at work.
You couldn't stop thinking back to his smile, the quick graze of your fingers as he took the tupperware from you, your walk together to the bagel shop… Granted, you really didn't know anything about him; your interactions with Dex would probably total to less than 2 hours, so you were trying to keep your daydreaming to a minimum for sanity's sake.
The fact that you knew so little about him made your mind also turn to paranoia. What if he's a serial killer?, you wondered. Okay, realistically he's probably not a serial killer, you countered. Besides, that's the whole point of a date. To get to know each other. And anyway, even if the date goes bad, I'm being reassigned within a few weeks.
You took a quick shower, and changed into your date night clothes. You styled your hair, spritzed your favorite perfume on your neck, and accessorized with your jewelry. You paused to look at yourself in the mirror, turning to see how the clothes draped on your body.
Not bad, Y/n.
You heard a knock on the door and your heartbeat spiked. It's 7 already?
You rushed to the door, running your fingers through your hair and smoothing down your top before opening the door. And there stood Dex, all 6 feet of him, in black trousers and a gray zip-up, hair parted to the side. His hands were clasped behind his back.
"Dex. Hi!"
"Hey," he replied. You didn't miss the way his eyes trailed the length of you as he took you in. The corners of your lips curled up slightly at how obvious he didn't know he was being. He cleared his throat, breaking his admiration of you, and brought his hand out from behind his back. He was holding the tupperware you had put the cookies in. "I thought you, uh, might want this back."
You stared at the tupperware. That was the last thing you had been thinking about. "Oh my gosh, yeah, I totally forgot. Thanks. How were they?" you asked, taking the tupperware from him.
"Best cookies I ever had," he replied, and you thought he sounded earnest.
"Really?" you asked, brows lifted in concern. "That's actually really great because I got distracted for like, two seconds, and then I think I got some ingredients mixed up-"
Dex interrupted you, noticing that you were clearly flustered. "They were great. I promise. I've never had anyone make me cookies before."
You felt your cheeks growing warm at his confession. It really wasn't even anything that romantic, but you felt like they'd meant a great deal to him. "Well, good. I'm glad you liked them." You grabbed the tupperware from him, fingers missing each other this time. "Let me just put this back."
You put the tupperware on the kitchen counter and made your way back to the door. You stepped outside, feeling Dex towering behind you as you turned your back to him to lock the door.
"I hope you didn't have to walk too far to get here," you remarked as you both made your way down the staircase.
"No, I actually live upstairs."
You blinked, your step faltering. "What?"
"Yeah, I guess the landowner has some special deal with the bureau. They set up a bunch of agents here," he said casually.
"Huh. I can't believe I didn't notice." You furrowed your brows, thinking you surely would've recognized someone, or at least bumped into someone in the lobby on your way to work. But it was a big office. You guessed it was possible you hadn't recognized anyone. Maybe the agents that lived here just weren't the ones you worked with. Minus Dex.
Dex lifted his chin and jerked his head softly to the side, a smirk on his face. "Shall we?"
You followed him down the stairs.
You'd both made it out of the complex and were now standing outside, the sound of chatter and cars suddenly enveloping you. The sun had already set and the sky was an illuminated blue-gray, coloring everything with a romantic sort of light. You wrapped your arms around your body as a gust of wind hit you.
He opened the door of the cab for you, and he followed in on the other side.
"Where to?"
"Hudson Street."
Sitting next to him in the cab, the aroma of his cologne suddenly began to engulf you in a haze of lavender and sandalwood. You could feel the warmth radiating from the closeness of his body and your head began to swim. You noticed the way the veins of his hands were so pronounced, laying on his thigh. His thigh…
"Hey, I'm walkin' here!" You felt the cab come to a sudden halt as clearly disgruntled and pissed off older man yelled at the cab driver from where he stood at the hood of the car. The cab driver raised his arm out the window in a "fuck you" motion and you couldn't help but snicker at the classic-ness of it all.
You turned to look at Dex and pointed your finger towards the front of the cab. "Oh my god. That stuff happens in real life?"
He exhaled a laugh. "Constantly."
You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay, okay. But that was an undeniable cliché."
Once you arrived, Dex stepped out of the cab and crossed over to open the door for you. Your heart fluttered at his gentleman-ness. The bar was called the Foxtail, which was illuminated by soft yellow and orange light. Nearly all the tables were full with people sipping on drinks, smiling and chatting. Servers bustled around with trays of colorful drinks in countless types of glasses.
Dex guided you to an empty table for two in the middle of the bar. He pulled out the chair for you to sit in.
"Thank you," you said softly.
He took his place across from you. He looked… nervous. You could tell by the way his arms seemed to narrow in together that he was clasping his hands underneath the table. His shoulders hunched forward.
A waitress approached your table.
"Hi, my name is Camila and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?"
"Can I get an IPA and… whatever she's having."
You smiled at the waitress. "Hi, can I just get the… Fabulous fox, please?"
"Coming right up."
You looked back up at Dex.
"I'm sorry," he exhaled. "I don't do this kinda thing very often."
"Oh, you don't ask out every new girl on their first day?" You teased.
He laughed nervously. "No, no, I…" He held your gaze. "I just felt called to you."
You paused and just stared at him. He lowered his head and put his head in his hands, hiding himself. "Sorry, I know that's a stupid thing to say. But it's true. And if I've freaked you out enough already and you want to leave, I won't stop you. I can get you a cab, I'll-"
"Dex." You reached for one of his hands and placed it on the table, pressing your hand above his.He stopped and looked at you. You smiled softly, feeling your heart ache. "It's okay. I felt called to you too, I guess," you replied, mainly to comfort him. If by "called to him" you meant you'd found him nice and really cute.
His mouth began to peel into a half smile and he leaned back, slumping in his chair. It was the first time you'd seen him relax all night.
The soft yellow lighting of the bar engulfed him in a honey glow, and it was impossible to not notice the perfection of his smile, or the way his pecs and his biceps made the fabric of his quarter-zip stretch in a way that made you want to tear it off him. Respectfully.
"Well, well, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Fox Hole!" An announcer had taken the stage on your right.
You heard a few whoops throughout the bar and smiled at the sound of other people celebrating. The announcer continued to introduce the band, and you felt Dex's eyes on you. He focused on the way the stage lights reflected in your eyes and your skin, and the admiration in your face as you watched the band start setting up.
A few moments later, the bar filled with the sound of the singer's soft voice and a piano. You swayed lightly and fluttered your eyes shut, taking occasional sips on your drink. After they'd played a few more songs and the two of you had had a couple more drinks, you turned to Dex.
"So, Dex," you began. You ran your finger on the rim of your now-empty glass and watched him take a swig of his beer, eyes locked on you. "What do you say we get out of here?"
Your forearms were pressed on the cold metal of the guardrails, with wind blowing on your face that made goosebumps erupt on your skin. The skyline glowed and reflected on the water, lapping gently. The pier was almost empty save for you and Dex.
You felt Dex next to you, noting the effect the warmth of his body had on yours - your shivering settled, and your breath deepened to smell more of him. You turned to look at him and found that he was already looking at you, a soft expression on his face as he watched you. The lights of the city reflected on his face and in his eyes, the wind blowing gently through his blond hair. How you were supposed to go back to work on Monday and be normal?
You turned to look back at the skyline. "Do you ever get used to it?"
He looked at your profile, marveling at how the skyline he'd seen all his life managed to floor you.
"You will eventually. One day you'll realize that you didn't even notice the things that used to catch your attention. Just takes time."
You turned to look at him again and furrowed your brow before you could stop yourself. You wondered if he had forgotten. You took a breath to say you probably wouldn't get the chance to, but you stopped yourself short.
"What do you miss the most?" Dex asked.
"I miss the familiarity more than anything. I have a friend, Ava, who's pretty much my only friend since I started training. And, yeah. I wish she was here. I just feel like… Like this city is just so big, and I'm not. You know?"
"Well, the bureau is lucky to have you. Anyone is," he said, shaking his head in disagreement at your confession.
You smiled softly at him. "That's nice of you, Dex."
"No, I mean it. You're just… A good person." He cleared his throat. "So, I'm sure you'll make some friends here soon enough. Just give it time. And you've got me."
Maybe he really had forgotten. "Hopefully before they decide to transfer me," you laughed nervously, not wanting him to keep thinking this could ever be anything more than a few dates.
"Right," he nodded, staring at a distant point.
You smiled sadly at him. The wind was getting colder now, and your shivering became more noticeable now, even with Dex's warmth radiating on you.
"Oh, I would offer you my zip up if I could, but…" He tugged at the collar of his zip up.
"Yeah, don't worry. But an arm would be great," you chided with a tilt of your head.
For a split second, you saw the expression on his face of surprise, a small smile painted on his face before he was next to you, arm wound around your shoulder, bodies pressed close.
He raised his eyebrows and scoffed. "Not just to me. He made sure he told everyone in the office that Josie compromised the mission, but it was him that blew our cover."
You scoffed, remembering the odd handful of interactions you'd had with an Agent Dom who gave you a weird vibe. Arrogant and entitled with a faint smell of sweat always lingering on him. "Some people are just weirdos," you shrugged.
"Yeah," he said quieter. "Weirdos."
You reached your door and you turned so your back was pressed against the door and you tilted your head to look up at him. "Thanks for taking me out, Dex. I had a really great time."
"Anytime," he replied in that gravely voice of his.
He started to back away, up to his apartment upstairs, you thought.
"Wait," you called out before you could stop yourself.
He glanced over his shoulder before his body fully turned to you.
You felt your heart beating out of your chest. You took a step forward, getting closer. He furrowed his brows with a look that made it seem like his mind was struggling to make sense of the situation.
You stood up on your tip toes and wrapped both hands around his neck as you pulled him down to your height. You slammed your lips on his more aggressively than you'd planned. After a beat (which felt like years to you), his lips began to move against yours. Your hands climbed to his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He put his hands on your waist, ever the gentleman. He turned his head to deepen the kiss as your fingers continued to stroke his hair, lips moving against each other in a mix of saliva and the taste of alcohol from your drinks earlier.
You broke away first, pressing your forehead to his while the both of you caught your breath. You took a step back, noticing the tinge of pink in his cheeks and his lips. He looked so beautiful.
"I'll see you Monday?" You smiled to yourself. That kiss would've made anyone passing by in the hall feel like they were interrupting a church sermon, and you were asking about Monday. You leaned against the door of your apartment, reaching into your pockets for your keys.
He faltered, brain still trying to catch up with reality. "See you Monday," he said, voice just above a whisper.
You turned to unlock your door and stepped inside. You turned back to look at Dex, who had started making his way to the staircase.
He looked over his shoulder to look at you one last time. He smiled. You smiled back.
Genuinely conflicted bc why is my attraction to Dex so insane that I rewatch edits of him throughout my day like they're prescription meds. I will genuinely giggle to myself when I watch them. I am starting to feel crazy. Whole time he's a manipulative sociopathic killer. Who is driving me crazy. LIKE WHY IS HIM THROWING FREAKING KNIVES AND SHIT AT PEOPLE SO HOT
Summary: The New York FBI office needs an immediate cyber agent transfer, and that just so happens to be you. You meet a handsome agent who shows you around the office.
Warnings: light swearing
Word count: 3.3k
Author's Note: This is my second poindexter x reader fanfic! It's been a while since I've seen the show, but this takes place during season 3 (or 2?) of the original Daredevil when Dex is still an FBI agent. I've been working on this for a few days and am anxious to post it, so here you go. I hope you enjoy and feedback is welcome!
"Okay, 'special agent reassignment' my ass. What the fuck is in Gallup, New Mexico, that they just have to reassign me there?" you ask your closest friend on your task force, Ava. She was also the only other woman on the cyber division, and thank god for that. You were in a bar not far from the academy, as was your bi-monthly tradition with Ava. The FBI, and especially the cyber division of the FBI, were indeed a man's world.
"It's probably because of what you said in that meeting with him and the higher-ups last week. You know Robinson hates whenever someone corrects him. Especially in front of his boss. And especially if it's a woman." She shook her head and took a swig of beer.
You scoffed. "Well, maybe the directors in Gallup will have less fragile egos. Besides, he completly misinterpreted my data, I wasn't about to look like a fool in front of the directors."
You felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket. You groaned, flipping your phone so Ava could see the caller ID. Director Robinson. She gave you a pouty expression and slurred, "You're not taking that, right?"
You rolled your eyes, sighing. "Then I'll just have to call him back. I'll be right back." You got up from the stool and made your way outside.
"Director Robinson."
"Agent l/n. Sorry about the late call. Is this a good time?"
"I have a few minutes. What do you need?"
"Listen, I know you're getting ready for the transfer to Gallup, but the field office in New York just lost their cyber agent. Normally, I'd arrange for another agent who already requested to be transferred to New York, but they need an immediate replacement. The paper work for your transfer to Gallup is all filled out, and HR would just need to change the city location. You know how long those forms take to fill out. Anyways, I wanted to check in with you and see if you'd be okay with that. It would only be until they find a permanent replacement. You'd be expected to be there by Monday."
You paused. "Uh, would my living arrangements and everything be set up?"
"Yes. We'll have that all set for you by the time you get there."
You paused again, thinking about how insane of a switch-up was. "Yeah, that's no problem. I'd be happy to."
"Excellent. I'll let HR know and I'll have them send over a last few details." He hung up the phone.
You stood outside the bar in stillness for a few more seconds as you processed the sudden change in plans. You made your way back to the bar stool next to Ava.
"Guess. What," you ask Ava, retaking your seat at the bar.
"What?" she asked incredulously, giving you a small smile back. She'd nearly finished her beer.
"They're sending me to..." you paused, doing a drum roll on the counter, "New. York."
"No they're not!" she asked, eyes wide and mouth agape.
"Robinson just called, said they needed an immediate cyber transfer and since my paperwork is already filled out to transfer, they're sending me over. At least until they find someone permanent. I'll be there on Monday."
Ava pouted. "Okay, first of all, that is so freaking amazing, I'm so jealous. Second, what, I'm just supposed to be friendless at work now?"
When your alarm rang at 5am on Monday morning, you didn't have to peel your eyes open or miss the snooze button three times before you managed to turn your alarm off. You'd been up for hours, and frankly, you were glad your alarm had finally gone off so it could put an end to your restless night.
The Sunday night scaries had crept up on you earlier last night, and they didn't let you get one consecutive hour of sleep all night. You weren't just intimidated at the fact that you'd only graduated FBI training a few months ago and you were now being sent to one of the top government agencies in the world. You were also intimidated at the idea of not knowing anybody. You were so used to having a friendly face around thanks to Ava, and when you picture an FBI office full of stressed and rushed New Yorkers, let's just say you didn't get the friendliest picture.
You sat up in bed, feeling drained and restless. HR had placed you in a small apartment a few blocks away from the office, so at least you'd be able to clear your head on the walk to work. You showered and got dressed in a white button up with a black blazer, black slacks and flats. You were usually a breakfast advocate, but your stomach was cramping from nerves. Begrudgingly, you could already imagine your stomach growling at the worst possible moment later on in the day. You grabbed your headphones and made your way out the door.
You arrived to the doors of the New York FBI office and the combination of the U.S government seal on the outside of the building and its sheer grandiosity did nothing to quell the nerves in the pit of your stomach. It dawned on you just how much of a big deal this was. Huge, actually. You began to feel extremely small and ridiculously under qualified.
What am I even doing here. I'm going to make such a fool of myself, I should've never said I would come, you thought, mind racing. Alright, deep breath y/n. You're here. And you're going to be okay.
You pushed open the doors and walked up to the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Agent l/n. I'm the cyber transfer from Quantico," you introduced yourself to the man at the reception desk, sliding over your credentials across the marble counter.
"Ah, yes, Agent l/n, welcome. I'll lead you up to your floor," he said, standing up and leading you to the elevators. "Nervous?" he asked, noticing the way you were wringing your hands.
You exhaled a laugh, which did nothing to soften the tension in your body. "Just a little."
He shook his head. "Don't be. You're gonna do great."
As the doors opened, you were met with the sound of overlapping conversations between agents, ringing phones and papers shuffling. The receptionist led you to an empty desk on the left hand side of the office, right by the windows.
"So this will be your desk during your time here. If you brought lunch, there's a fridge in the kitchenette just straight ahead on your right. I need to get back to reception," he instructed, as he walked you over to another desk, "but Agent Poindexter will give you a tour of the office and introduce you around," the receptionist said as he led you away from your desk and towards the desk of who you assumed was Agent Poindexter. He was leaning back in his roll-around chair and talking to the agent in the cubicle next to his, a smile gracing his face as he twisted a pencil in his hand. He looked up at you as you neared his desk, his smile faltering slightly.
Maybe this day isn't off to such a bad start, you think, noticing the way his muscles seemed to bulk out of his button up.
"Hi, Agent Poindexter. I'm Agent l/n, the new cyber agent," you said with an outstretched hand.
He stood up and shook your hand. His hand felt firm and warm against yours. "Call me Dex. It's nice to meet you, Agent."
"Dave said you'd show her around. You're still good to do that right?" the receptionist asked Dex.
"Yeah. Yeah, man, I got it from here, thanks," he responded, his eyes locked on you throughout their exchange with a small smile on his face. "So, you're the new girl?"
"Yep, I'm the new girl. What's your specialty?"
"I'm on tactical. Usually security."
"Oh, wow. How's that?" you replied, trying to hide the way you perked up when you said that. No wonder he's so buff, you thought.
He started leading you around his desk into the kitchenette. "Eh, not bad. I've got a knack for it, " he paused in front of the fluorescent lit kitchenette and continued, "Here's the kitchenette, Carl usually makes the coffee but, word to the wise, it sucks. You should absolutely avoid the coffee."
You snorted. It caught you off guard; maybe the lack of sleep was catching up with you. You pretended to jot down a note in an invisible journal.
"Don't... drink... the coffee... Got it."
He chuckled, still looking at you after your snort. He shuffled his feet as he said, "I know it's still pretty early, but are you hungry? I skipped breakfast and I know this spot down the block. Consider it part of the tour," Dex offered with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh my god. This is the best bagel I've ever had," you practically groaned, your hand covering your bagel-stuffed mouth.
"If I know anything, it's where to get a good bagel," he says, raising the bagel in his hand for emphasis.
You couldn't help but notice the feeling of his eyes lingering on you when you weren't looking.
"So, Dex. Other than having an uncanny ability to tell when a girl is hungry, what else are you good at?", you ask, both of you walking slowly away from the bagel shop and back to the FBI. Your eyes widened as you quickly realized that the question had sounded very different in your head. He eyed you curiously. You laughed nervously. "I mean, you said you're on tactical, right? What got you into that?" you said, still kicking yourself mentally.
"Yeah, yeah. I just really like having structure. After I got out of the military, one of my commanders said I should join the FBI. Something about me being an expert shot."
You glanced at him, raising your eyebrows. "Wow. Remind me never to play darts with you."
He chuckled softly. "No, I wouldn't do that to you."
As you made your way back to the office floor, a snicker escaped you as you laughed at some stupid story Dex was telling you. Something about his boss.
"Agent L/n."
A woman wearing a tight bun and a perfectly tailored suit stood in front of you like she'd been waiting for you. The creases in her forehead and the weary look in here eyes told you she must be your new director.
Dex's fist came up to his mouth as he cleared his throat. "Agent l/n, this is Director Hattley."
You froze. Here you were, the new girl on her first day on the job, and you'd already made a bad impression on your boss. You felt like you may as well have been twirling your hair and looking at Dex with heart eyes given the embarrassment you started to feel creeping up in your face.
"Director Hattley. It's an honor to meet you," you rushed, shaking her hand. You felt her eyes piercing into you - you couldn't tell if it was because she was upset or because that's just how her eyes were.
"I see you've already met Agent Poindexter. Have you been showing her around the office?" she asked, turning to face Dex.
"Yes, ma'am. David put me on tour guide duty."
She nodded, turning her heel as she started walking away from you.
"Agent l/n, follow me."
You gave Dex a quick side eye, hoping you weren't in trouble already. You caught up with her quick strides.
She debriefed you in her office and explained your work responsibilities and expectations. You nodded your head dutifully as you met back her hard stare.
"I understand you're only here temporarily?"
"Yes director, that is my understanding. Whenever the bureau is able to send in a more experienced agent into my position, I'll be relocated."
"And I'm sorry we're not able to give you a more certain time frame. But, until then, the expectations for you are the same as they would be for a more experienced agent. You can ask Agent Ryland about any questions you have, her desk is across from yours, I believe."
"Understood," you replied, making your way towards the door.
"I want you at your desk, Agent. Our agents tend to work during working hours," Hattley ordered, turning her gaze from you to a file she held in her hand as she took a sip of her coffee. Sure hope that's not Carl's, you thought.
"Yes, director. I apologize, it won't happen again."
You walked towards your desk, making brief eye contact with Dex on the way. You gave him a shrug. What can you do?
The rest of the day was full of catching up on memos, getting your credentials into the system, and watching the stupid mandatory training videos for things you already knew how to do. You felt your eyes glossing over as you suddenly hyper fixated on the humming of the lights when Dex's voice broke you out of your trance.
"Hope Hattley didn't give you too hard a time in there."
You blinked, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms over your head. "Don't worry about me, I've had my fair share of sucky bosses. I think I definitely do prefer her over my old boss, though."
"Who'd you you have over at Quantico?"
"Robinson. He made my life so miserable."
Dex had a surprisingly serious look on his face. "Yeah, Robinson. He's a sexist asshole. We do a better job of taking care of Agents here."
"That's good to hear. But I'm only here temporarily until they're able to get a more experienced cyber agent," you said with tsk.
Dex hesitated. "Well, y/n, that's a shame. I hope they have a hard time finding someone," Dex replied, patting the side of your cubicle. "Have a good night," he said making his way back to his desk.
Your cheeks flushed slightly. You hoped they had a hard time too.
You face palmed. "Okay, don't say that. I don't want to get ahead of myself. Plus, I'm only here until they find someone who can take the position permanently. I'm way too junior to handle freaking New York city level cyber threats."
"Okay, but that doesn't change the fact that he's totally into you. Plus, YOLO. If you're going to be there for a short time, you might as well make it worth it."
You bit your lip as you pictured his smile absurdly perfect smile. "You think?"
"Yes girl. I am living vicariously through you, so you better have a juicy report for me next time I talk to you."
You exhaled a soft laugh. "All right, I'll do it for you, my Ava."
You were splayed out on the apartment bed, looking at the slightly cracked ceiling above you, thinking about Dex like a goodamn schoolgirl. You felt ridiculous, pining over a guy that you had just met and who was your co-worker, but Ava was right. If you were leaving anyways, there was no harm in doing some harmless romantic exploration, right? You couldn't stop thinking about him; you tried to ignore it, but your heart did a mini somersault when he flashed those perfect pearly whites at you. Having good teeth is so powerful, you thought, mind engulfed at the idea of seeing that smile again. Plus, he was so muscular. And just the right amount, too. Not too bulky to where his veins were protruding from his skin, but just to the point where it made you feel small in comparison. In a good way.
As you sat in your bed, you were thinking about all the ways you could strike up a conversation with Dex again. You two weren't in the same task force, so you figured your interactions with him were going to be minimal, if any. Agents on tactical were also rarely in the office. They were usually out in the field, right in the face of danger. On occasion, you'd also do field investigations, but you doubted you'd be able to tag along on Dex's assignments.
Ooh, you thought. I should thank him for showing me around the office. With cookies.
You wouldn't call yourself cheap, but you did like to avoid spending money wherever possible. You were a firm believer in hand-made gifts, and you liked to gift baked goods and crafts for your friends and families for special occasions. You figured, who doesn't like cookies? Plus, they did say that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.
You mentally face palmed. God, y/n, that is so corny. Plus, we're getting ahead of ourselves. This is just a show of good character.
You put on a light coat, your beat up comfort sneakers and grabbed your bag, making your way out of the apartment. You'd noticed a corner store on the end of your street when you were walking to work in the morning, which you figured would sell all the ingredients you would need. Plus, after growing up in a non-major city, you were eager to go to your first NYC corner store.
The sun had just set, and a gust of wind and blaring horns met you as you stepped out of the apartment building. You looked up, letting out a small breath as you saw just how much the buildings towered above you. You started walking forward, heading towards the corner store.
The next day, you arrived at work with a tupperware full of chocolate chip cookies.
I hope he doesn't see right through me, you thought as you got into the elevator, feeling like your heart was right on your sleeve. And what if he does? Would that be so bad? Besides, you're doing this as a thank you, cookies don't have to mean you want to have his babies. Although-
The doors to the elevator opened and you walked onto your floor. As you made your way to Dex's desk, you caught him walking from the back of the room, peering through some files he had in his hands. He glanced up and his step faltered when he saw you. Today, you were wearing a striped light-colored button up with a pair of bootcut slacks that made your ass look great, but Dex hadn't gotten a chance to learn that yet.
"Y/n," Dex greeted, a smile breaking through his face.
"Good morning, Dex," you say, extending the tupperware of cookies out to him. "Just the person I wanted to see."
He glanced down at the tupperware in your hands. "You made me," he bent down to get a clearer view of the transparent part of the tupperware, "cookies?" He asked.
"Yeah. Just as a thank-you for showing me around yesterday. Plus, I owed you for that bagel."
He reached out for the tupperware, where your fingers brushed for half a second. His fingers felt warm and firm, and you felt a blush creeping up on your cheeks. Control yourself, you thought, please don't start blushing.
"No, you didn't have to do that. But thank you, that's very nice of you," he said. He flashed a shy smile and turned to look at the ground, almost bashful.
You started to make your way over to your desk, when Dex called out.
"Wait." He cleared his throat with his fist by his mouth, almost like the word had escaped his mouth before he could stop it. He looked down again, chuckling lightly. "Y/n, would you like to have dinner with me sometime?" He looked you straight in the eye, his brows drawing together slightly.
"Dinner?" you repeated,
"You don't have to."
"No. Dinner sounds nice," you said with a smile as you processed his abrupt invitation. I guess Ava was right.
"Yes. Okay," he repeated back to himself, sounding both surprised and proud at the fact that you'd agreed. He let out a breathy laugh.
summary: due to your reputation as a renowned criminal psychiatrist, you're assigned to a difficult patient at riker's island. during a session, he makes an offer that tempts the boundaries of your professional curiosity.
a/n: I can't say enough how blown away I am that y'all loved the offer so much. it was just meant to be a slutty lil one off for kinktober, a way for me to play around with an idea that had been lingering in the back of my head for awhile, and a chance for me to try my hand at writing for dex. your excitement made me so excited, and i've been having so much fun with this. thank you thank you thank you again. 🖤
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»— anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.
»— all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.
Summary: You meet a cute stranger on your walk home.
Warnings: minor swearing
Word count: 1k
Author's Note: This is my first fanfic! I've always dreamt of writing my own fan fictions one day, and I was recently inspired by chvoswxtch's Dex prisoner/psychiatrist series (not sure how to link it yet, but pls read it it is SO good!!). Plus Dex is soo. I hope you enjoy and feedback is welcome!!
The lights of the shop windows illuminated the wet sidewalk as you walked home. You could feel your socks getting wet as you accidentally stepped in a too-deep puddle.
"Fuck," you breathed.
You couldn't wait to get home and heat up the restaurant leftovers you had from yesterday... and to change your socks. Just as your mind was too consumed by the idea of heating up your stir-fry and putting on that show you've been binging to the point where you know you need to tone it down as you neared your apartment, you tripped over the sidewalk heave and fell to your hands and knees.
"Fuck!" you breathed louder this time, jeans and sleeves now joining your socks in their misery. You remember giving yourself a mental warning to remember that sidewalk that had already bested you once. You kicked yourself for forgetting, but hey, a hungry girl can't be blamed.
"You okay?" a man asked to your right. He offered a hand out to you, but you were already half-way on your feet by the time you noticed his chivalrous act.
"Yeah, just soaked. Thanks for the hand," you gestured semi-awkwardly with a small smile, pointing to his still outstretched hand.
He breathed a laugh and looked down bashfully as he lowered his hand and put it back in his pocket. You realized now that he was tall, and upsettingly attractive. He had a slightly lopsided smile with dazzling white teeth, short dirty blonde hair that fit him oh-so well, and he had offered you his hand. In New York City. He might as well have I want to get in your pants written all over his face, but maybe you're getting ahead of yourself. You're probably definitely getting ahead of yourself. You felt even more embarrassed now at having almost face-planted when such a handsome stranger was so close.
You both stood there standing in the drizzling rain, with you trying to rack your brain for something to say to the handsome man standing across from you before he took his leave and you never saw him again.
"You from around here?" he asked, looking back up with an almost pained confused expression.
"Uh, no. Just moved. How'd I already give it away?" you asked back with a small laugh. You just moved to New York City, and you felt like everything about you screamed "non-New Yorker", but you figured most of that was just in your head.
He chuckled a little, "No, nothing, its just I live nearby and I feel like I would've remembered if I'd seen a girl like you." He had a slight tilt to his head as his hair was getting damp from the rain. God, he looks good, you thought.
Truth was, he had noticed you a few weeks ago. It had first started when he was standing by the window of his apartment. He glanced over to look outside and saw a girl wearing a red coat leaving the apartment building directly across the street from his own apartment building. The second thing he noticed about you was the way your creased your brow as your head whipped right and left before deciding to go right. The first was how beautiful he thought you were. She must be new, he thought. It was obvious in the way you were still a little disoriented about your surroundings. He let out an exhale and a small smile crept on his face. His day was about to get a lot more interesting.
You looked down with a breathy laugh, your slight embarrassment turning into bashfulness.
"But I'm Dex. I live right across the street. If you, uh, ever need anybody to show you around, I'd be happy to."
Your heart did a mini leap. "Actually, yeah that'd be great. I still haven't been to the Statue of Liberty, if you can believe it. Just missing a guide," you said. You mentally kicked yourself again. He probably thinks I'm such a typical tourist, ugh, why would I say that! you thought. You cleared your thought. "But, uh, yeah! That'd be great. I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."
He chuckled lightly. "Well, lucky for you, Liberty Island is my specialty. Hey, why don't I walk you home? Think of it as my civic duty," he said, putting a hand on his chest and bowing his head slightly.
You grinned, nodding your head to the side. "Well, I wouldn't want to get in the way of you performing your civic duties. I'm just right up here," you said, pointing further down the street.
"So, what brings you to New York?" Dex asks as you both start walking the short distance to your apartment.
"I guess the same thing that brings everyone here. I was sick of my hometown, of feeling stagnant and, as corny and cliche as it might be, I've always dreamt of what it would be like to live in New York. You only live once, right? But what about you?"
He clicked his tongue, "Lived here all my life. I can't imagine being anywhere else. How are you liking it so far?"
"You know, it takes some getting used to. Everyone's always in a rush, just like in the movies, and rent is ridiculous." You took a deep breath in and gazed upwards at the towering buildings. "But there's just something about it, you know?"
"Yeah," he said, noticing the way your eyes seemed to sparkle under the lights.
You'd reached the door of your apartment and he stood to face you with his hands in his pockets.
"This is me," you said, heart a little sad that he would leave.
"Yeah, I-" he said, clearing his throat right after. Maybe he wasn't feeling well, because he looked... nervous? "I'll give you a call?"
You were slightly thrown aback. "I-, yeah! I'll give you my number," you offered, extending your hand so he could give you his phone. You put your contact in his phone and handed it back to him. Your fingers touched lightly as you passed him his phone back and you smiled to yourself. "I'll see you around, Dex."
Songs and cities are magical things. A city can remind us of a song, a song a city. They take us back to a moment in time, lets us see a version of ourselves that once walked this earth, and only does so now in shadows and fragments. They have the power to fundamentally change us, to alter the way we see the world completely forever. The city that did that for me, the city that won’t leave my mind, is Mexico City. A mere 4 days spent there changed the life of a girl who had seen 7,218. The songs I listened to in the shower of our hotel, on the speaker/digital clock while I was getting ready and on the plane ride home now spark images in my mind of blue and yellow houses, nature and tall skyscrapers, golden sunlight, slanted streets, sharing a chocolate ice cream cone with my little brother (who isn’t so little anymore), the jean jacket I wore everyday, boulevards of poinsettias, reckless drivers, street churros, and the limitless feeling of being in a new, wonderful city whenever I listen to them again.
But cities like this are also dangerous. They fill you with thoughts of a life with endless potential and make you wonder which street you would live on, what kinds of clothes you would wear, the types of people you’d become friends with and fall in love with. The foods you’d eat, the people you’d meet, the city telling you to flee your hometown and everything you’ve ever known to be in its arms. Whispers of a more exciting and beautiful waiting for you if you just have the heart to leave the one you already have. And who knows? Maybe the city is right. And as you sit in your room, listening to those same songs that were with you in that beautiful city, an echo of your siren city is in each one of them. So, in a way, did that city ever leave you? Even when you don’t think about it, or listen to that song that reminds you of it so much, that city breathed its history, its people, its food, its love into your heart. It changed you in ways you might never really notice. You know it will wait for you to find it again.
Note - Mexico City made me understand literature in a whole new way. I used to read a love poem, read the lyrics to a love song, and assume it was about a romantic love between people. All of a sudden, after Mexico City, I understood that these same poems and songs could be about cities. I never knew the world could touch me in a such way that I would question the course of the rest of my life, or rather, consider things that had never before crossed my mind. My parents are from a smaller city in Northern Mexico, and we’ve always visited during the summer. This December, my uncle had a wedding in Mexico City, and we went for the first time and it made me envious of the years he had spent there for university, that this had been the city where he met the girl he was marrying. It made me question my life in the US, where I’ve never felt a spark or connection with someone the way my uncle did in Mexico City 10 years ago. I once took a social psychology class where my professor talked about how important distance is for relationships. She said it matters where we live, so we have to pick wisely and it has never left my mind. Its made me wonder if I’m in the right place to live, to find love. As I continue living, I make peace with the fact that where I live is not where I’m meant to be. My body is in the US, but my heart belongs to Mexico. If I am right about this, then I will live there one day.
Welcome to my blog! I am 18 now, finally the age I dreamed to have a tumblr account and a sims gameplay. Silly, I know, but I have decided to act on the small things I want. I wanted a space to describe my sometimes painful and eventual numbness to the new loneliness I've met, the pains of drifting friends and of being pure at heart, and not doing as much as I feel as I should be doing. Even if I'm posting this into the endless void of the internet, I hope this becomes a personal project that I periodically update. More so, I hope to write this for my younger self.
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