dissolvedprincess

[dissolvedprincess]

[dissolvedprincess]

an unbelievably stunning series that i adore so much…

Illicit Affairs Masterlist.

Summary: Benjamin “Dex” Poindexter is a shattered man, once again confined to Riviera Psychiatric Institution. Stripped of his badge, his purpose, and anything resembling peace, he spends his days in a numb routine—therapy sessions, meds, silence. The walls close in a little more every day.

Then there’s you.

The chaotic variant who crash-landed into his life with bad coffee, sharp eyes, and a mouth that didn’t know how to shut up. You, who sat across from him like you’d known him for years. You, who didn’t flinch at his name or the weight of his past. You, who on that first day out of his room, made him feel something—for the first time in a long time.

Thrown together in group therapy, shared rec hours, and whispered conversations through thin walls, the two of you form an unlikely alliance. Over time, that threadbare connection deepens—into something volatile, raw, and painfully real. A bond forged in shared fractures and quiet defiance, one that spans across years.

Before the world dragged him back into the darkness, there was this: two broken people in a broken place, finding a strange kind of clarity in each other.

Warnings: Slow-Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing, Violence, Flashbacks, Fluff, Smut. Pairings: Benjamin 'Dex' Poindexter/Reader. Chapters: Chapter 1: I Know I’m Not the Only One Who Ever Felt This Way. Chapter 2: You’re Not My Homeland, Anymore. Chapter 3: Something Wrapped All of My Past Mistakes in Barbed Wire. Chapter 4: You’re the Last Good Thing in This World. Chapter 5: You're The Only Thing I Want To Touch. Chapter 6: The Words Coming Out Wouldn't Speak The Truth. Chapter 7: When It All Falls Apart. Chapter 8: Light Up, Like You Have A Choice.

[dissolvedprincess]

agghh ur so sweet! thank u darlin🥹🥹🥹

Something short and sweet that i wrote on a whim. So, i don’t know if it’s any good, enjoy.

Windows

꒰ Poindexter/Bullseye x GN! Reader ꒱

✷ CW : 18+, NSFW

(Not Proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

The air is hot, despite of the opened windows. You can’t help but think back to a few moments ago as you stare blankly at the swaying curtains. The fabric is white and sheer, enabling you to see into the apartment windows across from yours. They shine yellow in the night like paintings. Most of them covered with drawn up curtains, some of them opened, free for anybody look into and observe.

But not your room. The curtains are drawn up and the lights are out. No one would be able to suspect the kind of dirty acts that are currently taking place. Well, no one other than your unfortunate neighbors and unlucky passersbye that roam the streets below. They would’ve heard your moans and screams as you claw at his arm, eyes watering from the intensity of your third orgasm. Twice by his hands, once by his mouth and tongue.

Your lungs still struggle to take in air, even as he runs his calloused hand over your sweaty chest. Seemingly trying his best to aid your intake of breath. His hand glides up to cradle your jaw, then you feel it. The wet and warm drag of his tongue on your cheek, licking up the drying trail left by your pleasure-induced tears.

“Can you come one more time for me?” He whispers into your ear, voice steady. You can’t imagine the amount of self control it’s taking for him to resist the urge to touch himself. Instead, he keeps choosing to bring you to your peak for multiple times in such a short amount of time. You’re not sure if you can even keep up at this point.

“Dex.” You turn your head to face him. And you almost gasp from the sight of his dilated pupils, half covered by low lids, heavy with desire. “Dex.” You call out again, attempting to break him free from his trance. “Let me touch you. Please.” Palm coming up to hold the side of his face.

“No.”

He doesn’t break eye contact when his hand starts to move again. Insistent on dragging more out of you. Selfish.

“Dex! I can’t! Baby i can’t!” You cry out. “Please!”

You attempt to push him away with a hand on his shoulder. But the action is pathetically cut short when he touches you just right, with perfect accuracy. The gasp you let out is sharp. Your back bows from the bed, and your thighs shake violently.

“Yes you can.” His hand works faster now, further and further decorated with your release. It’s filthy, utterly disgusting, but he doesn’t care about that. He never does. Not when you cry for him so sweetly.

And it’s not just his hands that sends you over the edge. It’s his eyes. His tongue. His body. His scent. His whole being. Dex. A person that will do whatever it takes to please you. Even if it means giving you more than what you ask for in the first place. Always ready and always ten steps ahead of you.

To be loved wholeheartedly by him is like nothing else in the world.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

I could not stop thinking about this specific scenario. I’m feeling romantic.

Ty for reading!

[dissolvedprincess]

thank you so much🥹

Something short and sweet that i wrote on a whim. So, i don’t know if it’s any good, enjoy.

Windows

꒰ Poindexter/Bullseye x GN! Reader ꒱

✷ CW : 18+, NSFW

(Not Proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

The air is hot, despite of the opened windows. You can’t help but think back to a few moments ago as you stare blankly at the swaying curtains. The fabric is white and sheer, enabling you to see into the apartment windows across from yours. They shine yellow in the night like paintings. Most of them covered with drawn up curtains, some of them opened, free for anybody look into and observe.

But not your room. The curtains are drawn up and the lights are out. No one would be able to suspect the kind of dirty acts that are currently taking place. Well, no one other than your unfortunate neighbors and unlucky passersbye that roam the streets below. They would’ve heard your moans and screams as you claw at his arm, eyes watering from the intensity of your third orgasm. Twice by his hands, once by his mouth and tongue.

Your lungs still struggle to take in air, even as he runs his calloused hand over your sweaty chest. Seemingly trying his best to aid your intake of breath. His hand glides up to cradle your jaw, then you feel it. The wet and warm drag of his tongue on your cheek, licking up the drying trail left by your pleasure-induced tears.

“Can you come one more time for me?” He whispers into your ear, voice steady. You can’t imagine the amount of self control it’s taking for him to resist the urge to touch himself. Instead, he keeps choosing to bring you to your peak for multiple times in such a short amount of time. You’re not sure if you can even keep up at this point.

“Dex.” You turn your head to face him. And you almost gasp from the sight of his dilated pupils, half covered by low lids, heavy with desire. “Dex.” You call out again, attempting to break him free from his trance. “Let me touch you. Please.” Palm coming up to hold the side of his face.

“No.”

He doesn’t break eye contact when his hand starts to move again. Insistent on dragging more out of you. Selfish.

“Dex! I can’t! Baby i can’t!” You cry out. “Please!”

You attempt to push him away with a hand on his shoulder. But the action is pathetically cut short when he touches you just right, with perfect accuracy. The gasp you let out is sharp. Your back bows from the bed, and your thighs shake violently.

“Yes you can.” His hand works faster now, further and further decorated with your release. It’s filthy, utterly disgusting, but he doesn’t care about that. He never does. Not when you cry for him so sweetly.

And it’s not just his hands that sends you over the edge. It’s his eyes. His tongue. His body. His scent. His whole being. Dex. A person that will do whatever it takes to please you. Even if it means giving you more than what you ask for in the first place. Always ready and always ten steps ahead of you.

To be loved wholeheartedly by him is like nothing else in the world.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

I could not stop thinking about this specific scenario. I’m feeling romantic.

Ty for reading!

[dissolvedprincess]

Thanks a bunch darling! This is highly affirming ❤️

Set in the same universe as Honeydew, and could be read as a standalone, but it’s better to read that one first for some context to their relationship. This one takes place some time after. They’re not dating yet, but close to.

Honeycomb

꒰ Poindexter/Bullseye x Fem reader ꒱

✷ CW : 18+, nsfw, dub-con, creepy dex, (f) masturbation, mentions of stalking, manipulation, breaking and entering, accidental voyeurism

(Not proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

The soft thrums of the subway bleeds over the line as she spoke up, “Hi honey. Thanks again for y’know— taking the time to call me.” She sounds upbeat despite having finished working overtime, her voice distinctively sweetened and soft.

“It’s no trouble at all. How was work?” His head twitched at the sound of a much anticipated click. With a gloved hand, he pulls on the handle and gently push the door open. His lids close as the sweet smell of vanilla hits him directly in the face. Dex is not big on strong scents and perfumed things, he finds that it overwhelms him at times. But with her always comes exceptions for the things he finds unpleasant.

He spares a look behind him before walking in to make sure he’s safe from the peering eyes of next door neighbors.

“So-so, it’s pretty boring. I’d rather talk about your day, Dex.” She sighs. “Are you off work yet?”

Dex eagerly scans the room to familiarize himself with it. His eyes trail from her kitchen, to her living room. The apartment is lived in, but tidy, with bits of sentimental trinkets spread all over.

He eyes the various pictures that line her walls, from childhood family photos to ones with friends, some estranged, but she still has them up for some reason. He’s come to know all of their names and backgrounds by memory, just incase.

“Nope. Still drowning in paperwork. There’s this ongoing case that i’ve been newly assigned to and it’s…a lot.” He thumbs the row of vinyls she has on display, and hums in appreciation at the sight of them being color coordinated. She’s exactly like him in some ways.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really no. Boring. FBI stuff.” He answers. “I’d rather talk about your day.” He parrots. And her laugh never fails to set his heart racing at the sound of it.

“Aw you’re such a terrible conversation partner, honey.” She jokes, but there’s no ounce of malice in her voice, just playful banter peppered with fondness.

“It’s true. There’s nothing i like doing more than listening to you talk.” His eyes quickly scan over every single page of her diary, and his lips stretches wide whenever he catches sight of his name written in such a beautiful light. Like he was good. “Your voice calms me. And i need it right now.” He then carefully returns the diary back into its original spot.

She snorts, “How do you always know what to say, hon?” Dex hears her heels click against pavement now, fast and calculated. Like something or someone is looming behind her, waiting for the right moment to strike. But she’s always been good at keeping herself composed, he thinks, even when her mind runs amok.

“You bring it out of me.”

He briefly paused to bury his nose into her pillow and inhaled deeply, he much prefers this scent over the smell of chemicals that are carefully designed to appeal to people. It smells so distinctively her, a pleasant blend of different odors mixed in with her sweet smelling shampoo that is much more gentle on his nose.

“Where are you now?”

“I’m walking on the street right now. Ten minutes away from home, give or take.” She sounds a bit breathless, so he asks.

“Are you alright?”

A nervous laugh is all that she could manage to push out, before she sighed. “Honestly? No. I’m really fucking scared right now. I keep looking back behind me to check. I swear, there’s a guy that’s been following me everyday for the past two weeks. He wasn’t being secretive about it too, almost like he was trying to make his presence known.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dex presses as he rubs the rough material of her lace panties between his thumb and forefinger.

“It’s weird, every time i look back, he’s there. And with time he gets closer to me. But he never does anything, he just appears, disappears, and re-appears, only to disappear again. That’s why i wanted to call you this time, to keep me company, to keep me safe— well, in a way.”

“That must’ve been horrifying.” His wistful tone is a sharp contrast to the wide-toothy smile he has on his face. “Are you sure it’s the same guy?”

Dex closes the drawer after making sure each and every one of her panties are placed neatly and correctly, just like how it was before.

“Yeah, same build, same outfit, always. I’ve memorized it by now, hon. He’s more or less your height and build, i couldn’t see clearly enough.” She pauses. “But y’know what?” He hears her voice straining a bit, he suspects maybe she was craning her head to look behind her.

“Hm?”

“He’s not here tonight, weird. Guess the call really worked huh? Can’t believe it.” She huffs. The tension in her voice has significantly lessened.

Dex chuckles and says, “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“That i should keep you around? Yeah i was thinking of the exact same thing.” She remarks.

“Cute.”

She laughs over the phone again, and his ears perk up at the sound of the elevator ding.

“Are you home yet?”

“Yup, safe and sound in my building. Just three more floors to go.”

“Good. That’s all i need to know.” He tells her. Then out of nowhere he lets out a groan of protest, a perfect act. “I’m so sorry but i need to cut the call short. Ray needs me for something.”

“Oh. That’s okay.” She sounds rightfully disappointed.

“Again. I’m really sorry-“ He stops talking for a second as he hears the familiar jingle of keys over the line. And in two short strides, he enters her roomy closet and closes the door. “I’ll call you again tomorrow okay. Don’t worry, i’ll be there.”

Dex hears the lock twist, followed by the sound of her footsteps entering the apartment. “Alright, honey. Thank you so much for tonight. Take care.” Her small voice echoes through the room.

“You too.” He quickly pockets his phone after she hangs up, ears listening carefully to track her every movement.

The sound of her groan reverberated throughout the space, “Fuuuckkk. Ugh. He drives me crazy.” She says to nobody. He hears her drop her set of keys a little harder than necessary on the kitchen island.

“Next time babe, next time. You got this in the bag.”

He never knew she has a habit of talking to herself out loud. That’s one more thing to add to his list of her little quirks.

Dex’s eyes follow her through the small— horizontal gap once she enters the bedroom. She still looks breathtaking even after a full nine hour work day, still neatly dressed in a crisp white shirt and wine pencil skirt that ends just below her knee, legs covered by sheer dark colored stockings.

She’s come to collect the stack of neatly folded clothes on her bed. Dex recalls her mentioning how she doesn’t want to spend the unnecessary time rummaging through her closet in an exhausted state. Which is why she always makes it a priority to leave a stack of clean clothes in the morning for her to change into after work.

She’s also a creature of habit, to a certain degree.

After making sure she has everything in check, she quickly leaves the room, and the sound of a door slamming shut is then heard not long after. Dex can hear the shower turn on, along with it a familiar sound. A smirk curves his lips as he recognizes the tune that’s been put on. It’s the song she keeps telling him about, a song about yearning. And at the time, he took it as a message, an unspoken confession.

His body is now leaning against the wall of her closet, arms crossed, and legs slightly apart. A stance that comes too naturally for him to resist doing.

Then he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until he hears the shower turn off.

A good chunk of time passes, before the sound of a door clicking open can be heard. Dex pushes himself off the wall and leans closer to peek through the gap again, eyes wide— not expecting the sight that greets him.

She’s walking across the room languidly, in a tank top and lace panties that looks awfully sinful wrapped around the meat of her hips. Her skin looks supple and glowy from the copious amount of lotions she’s lathered on, leaving behind a sweet smelling trail in the air.

Her body is facing away from him as she laced her fingers together and pushed them high up in the air to stretch her tired body. Dex lets out a shaky exhale when she spreads her stance and hinges at her hips to fold her torso, palms touching the floor. The thin material of her panties hides nothing from the imagination as it’s stretched over her bottom, his eyes trail a bit downward to ogle at the outline of her pussy.

He can feel how aroused he’s getting. Dick hardening in his pants and his fingers twitching impatiently on his side, itching to give himself any semblance of relief. He could do it right now if he wanted to, he could push the door open and fuck her right then and there. His build would easily overpower her, and she would be forced to comply and take whatever he decides to do with her.

But he would never do that. He would never force himself on her. A person so pristine and good, she could easily make him drop to his knees and worship the very ground she walks on. Dex could never be worthy enough to be her equal.

Dex’s wandering mind is pulled back into place as she stands up fully again. She yawns and drops face-down on the bed, rolling over and situating herself in the middle, limbs instantly melting into it. Her eyes looks to have fluttered shut. But just as he thought she was going straight to sleep. One of her hands suddenly goes to massage her breast, while the other slides down her body.

He releases the breath he hadn’t notice he’s been holding and covers his mouth with his palm to stop any potential noises to escape.

His gaze is pinned on her two joined fingers on her clothed pussy, the motions alternating between rubbing up and down to drawing tight circles on her clit. She moans at the action and rubs on it quicker. He sees it then, a wet patch forming in the middle of her panties, darkening the material. The sight of it is filthy, obscene, and so fucking arousing.

What a fucking pervert. Dex thinks to himself as he wishes for her to quickly pull her panties off.

And just like magic, she does.

The soaked lacy fabric is then kicked off, only for it to land in close proximity to Dex. And he stares at it intensely, burning the image of it into memory.

He almost broke his neck with how quickly his head snaps back to look at her again at the sound of his name, sandwiched between borderline pornographic moans.

“Oh Dex. Right there. Ahh shit.” The sentence ends up whiny and breathy.

Her movements are erratic and sloppy, despite being tired. The quick swipes of her fingers, causing wet and sticky noises to echo in the room. So much so that it overwhelms him. Head still spinning, he couldn’t believe what he is seeing and hearing right now.

“Put it in honey please. Put your fingers inside.” She whines, hips twitching.

She fantasizes about him, and it’s so much more than he could ever imagine. What is she even thinking about right now? Dex ponders the question. What kind of dirty scenes play behind those closed lids?

Then without much warning, she roughly slides both fingers inside of her soaked cunt, mouth falling open.

“Dex!”

He feels it then, that impossible to ignore, throb between his legs. So he can’t help but palm himself when she starts to fuck herself roughly. The heel of her hand roughly slaps against her clit with every delicious pump.

A muffled groan can be heard in the closet as she spreads her legs wider. Mouth busy wetting her other set of fingers.

“Yesyesyesyes…Feels so good, Dex.” She whispers, voice threadbare. Those fingers are now pinching and rubbing her pebbled nipples under her tank, further driving her towards the edge.

‘Fuck.’ Dex mouths behind his palm as he continues to massage his dick through his pants, he’a going to bust in his pants like a goddamn teenager. And she’s close too, he can tell from the sound of her moans arching higher.

“I’m gonna cum!” She cries out, voice high and shaky, need pouring out of her. “Make me cum. Please!”

He would. He would make her cum. As many times as she wants him to. He’d do anything.

Her fingers are rubbing frantically over her clit now as she works her other set of fingers in desperation to reach deeper, like Dex’s fingers probably would. The pressure of it sending waves of heat through her.

And then it’s everything. Too much and not enough. It builds fast. Hot. Violent.

She screams, the sound ripped raw from her throat. Head thrown back so hard, she almost collided with the headboard.

“Fuuuuck.” She cries, body convulsing. Wrung out and shaking.

Dex squeezes his eyes shut as his own orgasm overcomes him. It comes hard and fast, causing tears to well up in his eyes. His hand so tight over his mouth, red marks would surely be visible under the light.

After steadying his breath, he opens his eyes once more to the image of her pressing two fingers between her folds, spreading them apart. Dex mouth waters as her glistening pussy catches a bit of light from outside. Swollen and sticky, with release shining on the inside of her thighs. Her chest rising up and down, breath still shaky from the intensity of her orgasm.

Her small voice cuts through the silence. “I want you to fuck me so bad, Dex.” She says it so quietly, he almost misses it.

It’s like she knows he’s here with her, only a few steps away from giving her what she needs. And the thought of it sends a chill down his spine.

But his fantasy is quickly shattered as she cursed.

“Shit. You have got to be kidding me. What did you expect huh?”

She’s scolding herself as she reaches over for a pack of tissues. Her hands then frantically moves to wipe away the copious amounts of cum that’s starting to leak out, threatening to ruin the bedsheets. After she deems herself clean enough, she goes to stand up, staggering a little bit. Like a newborn with shaky legs. Only to throw away the balled up tissues in her trash can.

If he was there with her, he’d throw it away for her, from the comfort of her bed with a perfect aim.

She then practically collapses on the bed. Body bone tired as sleep quickly overtakes her after she pulled on the covers.

Once he’s sure she’s in a deep state of slumber. He carefully pushes the door open and walks out with light steps, wincing at the feeling of his cum soaked boxers rubbing up against his skin. He feels disgusting.

On his way out of the bedroom. His eyes catch sight of her ruined panties on the floor. Right. She didn’t have the energy to look for it. It’s right there, free for him to touch, maybe even take if he wanted to. She’d just chalk it up to being forgetful in the morning.

So he crouches down, hand reaching out to touch it. When he suddenly stops.

‘Not yet, Dex. Not yet. Patience.’ His own thoughts echo back to him.

He balls his hand into a tight fist and gets up, exhaling as softly as he could. He decides to stare at her unconscious state instead. She looks so beautiful, and his chest aches again. It feels significantly tighter this time, now that he has more confirmation on her feelings for him.

Dex told himself he’d leave as soon as possible.

He knows that. He knows he shouldn’t.

But his feet is already moving closer towards the bed before his brain can catch up to how much of a bad idea this is.

He gets closer to her, almost sharing a breath, and affectionately swipes a thumb over her brow bone. His heart drops into his stomach when the action caused her to move her head, nuzzling deeper into the pillow.

He decides to leave then. Moving as quietly but as swiftly as possible, looking back briefly to whisper, “Good night. I’ll see you soon.” Before slipping away into the night. Like he was never there.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

Once again i pulled an all nighter to finish this. So idk if anything makes sense.😍 I’ll edit it out as i go! Let me know if you enjoyed it!!

Oh oh annddd, the song that reader played in the shower is titled “Safe” by Newdad. Go listen to it!

Only one chapter left to go. Stay tuned for the final installment to the ‘Honey Series’, titled ‘Honeysuckle’!

[dissolvedprincess]

Something short and sweet that i wrote on a whim. So, i don’t know if it’s any good, enjoy.

Windows

꒰ Poindexter/Bullseye x GN! Reader ꒱

✷ CW : 18+, NSFW

(Not Proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

The air is hot, despite of the opened windows. You can’t help but think back to a few moments ago as you stare blankly at the swaying curtains. The fabric is white and sheer, enabling you to see into the apartment windows across from yours. They shine yellow in the night like paintings. Most of them covered with drawn up curtains, some of them opened, free for anybody look into and observe.

But not your room. The curtains are drawn up and the lights are out. No one would be able to suspect the kind of dirty acts that are currently taking place. Well, no one other than your unfortunate neighbors and unlucky passersbye that roam the streets below. They would’ve heard your moans and screams as you claw at his arm, eyes watering from the intensity of your third orgasm. Twice by his hands, once by his mouth and tongue.

Your lungs still struggle to take in air, even as he runs his calloused hand over your sweaty chest. Seemingly trying his best to aid your intake of breath. His hand glides up to cradle your jaw, then you feel it. The wet and warm drag of his tongue on your cheek, licking up the drying trail left by your pleasure-induced tears.

“Can you come one more time for me?” He whispers into your ear, voice steady. You can’t imagine the amount of self control it’s taking for him to resist the urge to touch himself. Instead, he keeps choosing to bring you to your peak for multiple times in such a short amount of time. You’re not sure if you can even keep up at this point.

“Dex.” You turn your head to face him. And you almost gasp from the sight of his dilated pupils, half covered by low lids, heavy with desire. “Dex.” You call out again, attempting to break him free from his trance. “Let me touch you. Please.” Palm coming up to hold the side of his face.

“No.”

He doesn’t break eye contact when his hand starts to move again. Insistent on dragging more out of you. Selfish.

“Dex! I can’t! Baby i can’t!” You cry out. “Please!”

You attempt to push him away with a hand on his shoulder. But the action is pathetically cut short when he touches you just right, with perfect accuracy. The gasp you let out is sharp. Your back bows from the bed, and your thighs shake violently.

“Yes you can.” His hand works faster now, further and further decorated with your release. It’s filthy, utterly disgusting, but he doesn’t care about that. He never does. Not when you cry for him so sweetly.

And it’s not just his hands that sends you over the edge. It’s his eyes. His tongue. His body. His scent. His whole being. Dex. A person that will do whatever it takes to please you. Even if it means giving you more than what you ask for in the first place. Always ready and always ten steps ahead of you.

To be loved wholeheartedly by him is like nothing else in the world.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

I could not stop thinking about this specific scenario. I’m feeling romantic.

Ty for reading!

[dissolvedprincess]

This goddamn photo of wilson bethel…hooooo girl……🪭🪭🪭

[dissolvedprincess]

Honeycomb

꒰ Poindexter/Bullseye x Fem reader ꒱

✷ CW : 18+, nsfw, dub-con, creepy dex, (f) masturbation, mentions of stalking, manipulation, breaking and entering, accidental voyeurism

𖥔 Summary : She’s taken notice of someone strange stalking her recently, so she calls Dex to keep her company on the way home.

𖥔 HONEYED HEART SERIES

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

(Not proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

The soft thrums of the subway bleeds over the line as she spoke up, “Hi honey. Thanks again for y’know— taking the time to call me.” She sounds upbeat despite having finished working overtime, her voice distinctively sweetened and soft.

“It’s no trouble at all. How was work?” His head twitched at the sound of a much anticipated click. With a gloved hand, he pulls on the handle and gently push the door open. His lids close as the sweet smell of vanilla hits him directly in the face. Dex is not big on strong scents and perfumed things, he finds that it overwhelms him at times. But with her always comes exceptions for the things he finds unpleasant.

He spares a look behind him before walking in to make sure he’s safe from the peering eyes of next door neighbors.

“So-so, it’s pretty boring. I’d rather talk about your day, Dex.” She sighs. “Are you off work yet?”

Dex eagerly scans the room to familiarize himself with it. His eyes trail from her kitchen, to her living room. The apartment is lived in, but tidy, with bits of sentimental trinkets spread all over.

He eyes the various pictures that line her walls, from childhood family photos to ones with friends, some estranged, but she still has them up for some reason. He’s come to know all of their names and backgrounds by memory, just incase.

“Nope. Still drowning in paperwork. There’s this ongoing case that i’ve been newly assigned to and it’s…a lot.” He thumbs the row of vinyls she has on display, and hums in appreciation at the sight of them being color coordinated. She’s exactly like him in some ways.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really no. Boring. FBI stuff.” He answers. “I’d rather talk about your day.” He parrots. And her laugh never fails to set his heart racing at the sound of it.

“Aw you’re such a terrible conversation partner, honey.” She jokes, but there’s no ounce of malice in her voice, just playful banter peppered with fondness.

“It’s true. There’s nothing i like doing more than listening to you talk.” His eyes quickly scan over every single page of her diary, and his lips stretches wide whenever he catches sight of his name written in such a beautiful light. Like he was good. “Your voice calms me. And i need it right now.” He then carefully returns the diary back into its original spot.

She snorts, “How do you always know what to say, hon?” Dex hears her heels click against pavement now, fast and calculated. Like something or someone is looming behind her, waiting for the right moment to strike. But she’s always been good at keeping herself composed, he thinks, even when her mind runs amok.

“You bring it out of me.”

He briefly paused to bury his nose into her pillow and inhaled deeply, he much prefers this scent over the smell of chemicals that are carefully designed to appeal to people. It smells so distinctively her, a pleasant blend of different odors mixed in with her sweet smelling shampoo that is much more gentle on his nose.

“Where are you now?”

“I’m walking on the street right now. Ten minutes away from home, give or take.” She sounds a bit breathless, so he asks.

“Are you alright?”

A nervous laugh is all that she could manage to push out, before she sighed. “Honestly? No. I’m really fucking scared right now. I keep looking back behind me to check. I swear, there’s a guy that’s been following me everyday for the past two weeks. He was being obvious about it too, almost like he was trying to make his presence known.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dex presses as he rubs the rough material of her lace panties between his thumb and forefinger.

“It’s weird, every time i look back, he’s there. And with time he gets closer to me. But he never does anything, he just appears, disappears, and re-appears, only to disappear again. That’s why i wanted to call you this time, to keep me company, to keep me safe— well, in a way.”

“That must’ve been horrifying.” His wistful tone is a sharp contrast to the wide-toothy smile he has on his face. “Are you sure it’s the same guy?”

Dex closes the drawer after making sure each and every one of her panties are placed neatly and correctly, just like how it was before.

“Yeah, same build, same outfit, always. I’ve memorized it by now, hon. He’s more or less your height and build, it was always too dark to see his face though.” She pauses. “But y’know what?” He hears her voice straining a bit, he suspects maybe she was craning her head to look behind her.

“Hm?”

“He’s not here tonight, weird. Guess the call really worked huh? Can’t believe it.” She huffs. The tension in her voice has significantly lessened.

Dex chuckles and says, “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“That i should keep you around? Yeah i was thinking of the exact same thing.” She remarks.

“Cute.”

She laughs over the phone again, and his ears perk up at the sound of the elevator ding.

“Are you home yet?”

“Yup, safe and sound in my building. Just three more floors to go.”

“Good. That’s all i need to know.” He tells her. Then out of nowhere he lets out a groan of protest, a perfect act. “I’m so sorry but i need to cut the call short. Ray needs me for something.”

“Oh. That’s okay.” She sounds rightfully disappointed.

“Again. I’m really sorry-“ He stops talking for a second as he hears the familiar jingle of keys over the line. And in two short strides, he enters her roomy closet and closes the door. “I’ll call you again tomorrow okay. Don’t worry, i’ll be there.”

Dex hears the lock twist, followed by the sound of her footsteps entering the apartment. “Alright, honey. Thank you so much for tonight. Take care.” Her small voice echoes through the room.

“You too.” He quickly pockets his phone after she hangs up, ears listening carefully to track her every movement.

The sound of her groan reverberated throughout the space, “Fuuuckkk. Ugh. He drives me crazy.” She says to nobody. He hears her drop her set of keys a little harder than necessary on the kitchen island.

“Next time babe, next time. You got this in the bag.”

He never knew she has a habit of talking to herself out loud. That’s one more thing to add to his list of her little quirks.

Dex’s eyes follow her through the small— horizontal gap once she enters the bedroom. She still looks breathtaking even after a full nine hour work day, still neatly dressed in a crisp white shirt and wine pencil skirt that ends just below her knee, legs covered by sheer dark colored stockings.

She’s come to collect the stack of neatly folded clothes on her bed. Dex recalls her mentioning how she doesn’t want to spend the unnecessary time rummaging through her closet in an exhausted state. Which is why she always makes it a priority to leave a stack of clean clothes in the morning for her to change into after work.

She’s also a creature of habit, to a certain degree.

After making sure she has everything in check, she quickly leaves the room, and the sound of a door slamming shut is then heard not long after. Dex can hear the shower turn on, along with it a familiar sound. A smirk curves his lips as he recognizes the tune that’s been put on. It’s the song she keeps telling him about, a song about yearning. And at the time, he took it as a message, an unspoken confession.

His body is now leaning against the wall of her closet, arms crossed, and legs slightly apart. A stance that comes too naturally for him to resist doing.

Then he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until he hears the shower turn off.

A good chunk of time passes, before the sound of a door clicking open can be heard. Dex pushes himself off the wall and leans closer to peek through the gap again, eyes wide— not expecting the sight that greets him.

She’s walking across the room languidly, in a tank top and lace panties that looks awfully sinful wrapped around the meat of her hips. Her skin looks supple and glowy from the copious amount of lotions she’s lathered on, leaving behind a sweet smelling trail in the air.

Her body is facing away from him as she laced her fingers together and pushed them high up in the air to stretch her tired body. Dex lets out a shaky exhale when she spreads her stance and hinges at her hips to fold her torso, palms touching the floor. The thin material of her panties hides nothing from the imagination as it’s stretched over her bottom, his eyes trail a bit downward to ogle at the outline of her pussy.

He can feel how aroused he’s getting. Dick hardening in his pants and his fingers twitching impatiently on his side, itching to give himself any semblance of relief. He could do it right now if he wanted to, he could push the door open and fuck her right then and there. His build would easily overpower her, and she would be forced to comply and take whatever he decides to do with her.

But he would never do that. He would never force himself on her. A person so pristine and good, she could easily make him drop to his knees and worship the very ground she walks on. Dex could never be worthy enough to be her equal.

Dex’s wandering mind is pulled back into place as she stands up fully again. She yawns and drops face-down on the bed, rolling over and situating herself in the middle, limbs instantly melting into it. Her eyes looks to have fluttered shut. But just as he thought she was going straight to sleep. One of her hands suddenly goes to massage her breast, while the other slides down her body.

He releases the breath he hadn’t notice he’s been holding and covers his mouth with his palm to stop any potential noises to escape.

His gaze is pinned on her two joined fingers on her clothed pussy, the motions alternating between rubbing up and down to drawing tight circles on her clit. She moans at the action and rubs on it quicker. He sees it then, a wet patch forming in the middle of her panties, darkening the material. The sight of it is filthy, obscene, and so fucking arousing.

What a fucking pervert. Dex thinks to himself as he wishes for her to quickly pull her panties off.

And just like magic, she does.

The soaked lacy fabric is then kicked off, only for it to land in close proximity to Dex. And he stares at it intensely, burning the image of it into memory.

He almost broke his neck with how quickly his head snaps back to look at her again at the sound of his name, sandwiched between borderline pornographic moans.

“Oh Dex. Right there. Ahh shit.” The sentence ends up whiny and breathy.

Her movements are erratic and sloppy, despite being tired. The quick swipes of her fingers, causing wet and sticky noises to echo in the room. So much so that it overwhelms him. Head still spinning, he couldn’t believe what he is seeing and hearing right now.

“Put it in honey please. Put your fingers inside.” She whines, hips twitching.

She fantasizes about him, and it’s so much more than he could ever imagine. What is she even thinking about right now? Dex ponders the question. What kind of dirty scenes play behind those closed lids?

Then without much warning, she roughly slides both fingers inside of her soaked cunt, mouth falling open.

“Dex!”

He feels it then, that impossible to ignore, throb between his legs. So he can’t help but palm himself when she starts to fuck herself roughly. The heel of her hand roughly slaps against her clit with every delicious pump.

A muffled groan can be heard in the closet as she spreads her legs wider. Mouth busy wetting her other set of fingers.

“Yesyesyesyes…Feels so good, Dex.” She whispers, voice threadbare. Those fingers are now pinching and rubbing her pebbled nipples under her tank, further driving her towards the edge.

‘Fuck.’ Dex mouths behind his palm as he continues to massage his dick through his pants, he’s going to bust in his pants like a goddamn teenager. And she’s close too, he can tell from the sound of her moans arching higher.

“I’m gonna cum!” She cries out, voice high and shaky, need pouring out of her. “Make me cum. Please!”

He would. He would make her cum. As many times as she wants him to. He’d do anything.

Her fingers are rubbing frantically over her clit now as she works her other set of fingers in desperation to reach deeper, like Dex’s fingers probably would. The pressure of it sending waves of heat through her.

And then it’s everything. Too much and not enough. It builds fast. Hot. Violent.

She screams, the sound ripped raw from her throat. Head thrown back so hard, she almost collided with the headboard.

“Fuuuuck.” She cries, body convulsing. Wrung out and shaking.

Dex squeezes his eyes shut as his own orgasm overcomes him. It comes hard and fast, causing tears to well up in his eyes. His hand so tight over his mouth, red marks would surely be visible under the light.

After steadying his breath, he opens his eyes once more to the image of her pressing two fingers between her folds, spreading them apart. Dex mouth waters as her glistening pussy catches a bit of light from outside. Swollen and sticky, with release shining on the inside of her thighs. Her chest rising up and down, breath still shaky from the intensity of her orgasm.

Her small voice cuts through the silence. “I want you to fuck me so bad, Dex.” She says it so quietly, he almost misses it.

It’s like she knows he’s here with her, only a few steps away from giving her what she needs. And the thought of it sends a chill down his spine.

But his fantasy is quickly shattered as she cursed.

“Shit. You have got to be kidding me. What did you expect huh?”

She’s scolding herself as she reaches over for a pack of tissues. Her hands then frantically moves to wipe away the copious amounts of cum that’s starting to leak out, threatening to ruin the bedsheets. After she deems herself clean enough, she goes to stand up, staggering a little bit. Like a newborn with shaky legs. Only to throw away the balled up tissues in her trash can.

If he was there with her, he’d throw it away for her, from the comfort of her bed with a perfect aim.

She then practically collapses on the bed. Body bone tired as sleep quickly overtakes her after she pulled on the covers.

Once he’s sure she’s in a deep state of slumber. He carefully pushes the door open and walks out with light steps, wincing at the feeling of his cum soaked boxers rubbing up against his skin. He feels disgusting.

On his way out of the bedroom. His eyes catch sight of her ruined panties on the floor. Right. She didn’t have the energy to look for it. It’s right there, free for him to touch, maybe even take if he wanted to. She’d just chalk it up to being forgetful in the morning.

So he crouches down, hand reaching out to touch it. When he suddenly stops.

‘Not yet, Dex. Not yet. Patience.’ His own thoughts echo back to him.

He balls his hand into a tight fist and gets up, exhaling as softly as he could. He decides to stare at her unconscious state instead. She looks so beautiful, and his chest aches again. It feels significantly tighter this time, now that he has more confirmation on her feelings for him.

Dex told himself he’d leave as soon as possible.

He knows that. He knows he shouldn’t.

But his feet is already moving closer towards the bed before his brain can catch up to how much of a bad idea this is.

He gets closer to her, almost sharing a breath, and affectionately swipes a thumb over her brow bone. His heart drops into his stomach when the action caused her to move her head, nuzzling deeper into the pillow.

He decides to leave then. Moving as quietly but as swiftly as possible, looking back briefly to whisper, “Good night. I’ll see you soon.” Before slipping away into the night. Like he was never there.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

Once again i pulled an all nighter to finish this. So idk if anything makes sense.😍 I’ll edit it out as i go! Let me know if you enjoyed it!!

Oh oh annddd, the song that reader played in the shower is titled “Safe” by Newdad. Go listen to it!

Only one chapter left to go. Stay tuned for the final installment to the ‘Honeyed Heart’ series.

[dissolvedprincess]

UNTAMED (2025)

[dissolvedprincess]

[dissolvedprincess]

!!! hi again! i’m glad that my tone came across well i get paranoid about that a lot! but i am also very glad that the fic is listed as gn! i hope you might make more like that in future, it’s sort of difficult being a queer non fem person and wanting to enjoy x reader content, sometimes. your writing is stunning! if you ever make any other gender neutral content in future for dex know that i’ll be very sat for it :3

aw thank you so much🥹 im so glad you enjoyed my work!! And course darling, i’ll keep that in mind! i’ll try to write more GN! readers with dex!!❤️❤️

[dissolvedprincess]

hi! i do not want to bother at all but i did want to say i know you have said you strictly write afab reader things, but i have to say your latest work “come a little closer” actually could be listed as a gender neutral type if you wanted. since you didn’t really use anything that could have it solely interpreted for just fem readers! just wanted to share that as a queer person! don’t mind me at all! :) (i hope this doesn’t somehow come across wrong or anything i’m quite tired and usually awful with tone so my apologies if somehow this comes across negatively as it is absolutely not my intention! <3)

oh oh! actually you’re so right! i didn’t really notice because i basically just word vomited everything, can’t believe i missed something so obvious. thank u so much for the info, just edited it out! and don’t worry, there’s wasn’t an ounce of negativity in your tone or the way you typed it out!☺️☺️

[dissolvedprincess]

Come a Little Closer

꒰ Poindexter/Bullseye x GN! Reader ꒱

𖥔 No content warnings, just sooo much fluff 𖥔

(Not Proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

If you were somebody else, your heart would’ve been racing for an entirely different reason right now. Your fingers would’ve already been typing in the numbers 911, and you would’ve whispered the exact words ‘Please. Help. Someone broke into my apartment.’ But after pondering on the idea, maybe the police wouldn’t be much help in this god forsaken city. The best chance you’d have is for you to tiptoe across your tiny apartment and pray under your breath so that the sound of creaking wood doesn’t wake him up.

On second thought, you would’ve already been bleeding from the head the moment you step one foot outside of your bedroom, killed by the impact of a small object nearest to him.

But you’re not that person, thankfully.

Instead, you’re dazing off, staring at your ceiling as you lay comfortably under your blanket. An old one, a tad bit ratty but well-loved. Much better than the sorry excuse of a blanket you gave Dex to wrap himself in. You aren’t even sure if it’s able to cover him fully with such a large build and long legs. Body all twisted and curled up on your couch, like an oversized orange cat. Is he even comfortable? Wouldn’t it hurt to have fresh stitches and bandaged wounds rub against the rough material of your couch?

You’d still have to change his bandages in the morning either way, but still. He would feel better if he slept here instead— the idea came up like an intrusive thought. Sure it would be a tight fit for the both of you, but it’d be nice, really nice.

Then again, he shouldn’t even be staying overnight in the first place. You should’ve just sent him home like usual.

What made it different this time?

You mentally slap yourself as your lips involuntarily form a smile at the idea of him sleeping next to you. It doesn’t matter that he was just a lovely stranger you’ve gotten close to by chance. It doesn’t matter that he always ends up at your door whenever he feels himself spiraling out of control. It doesn’t matter that you’ve held him close after seeing him bleed out on your floor for the first time, while confessing to murder. None of it should. Dex is still a criminal, he’s killed people, more than the ones he tells you about, you’re sure.

Anyone in their right mind would’ve turned him away and left him to his own devices. But you couldn’t, you can’t. You feel too much for him. Even when you don’t know what to call the feeling that bubbles up every time he’s around, it’s not love, not yet. Though it closely resembles it.

As your racing thoughts come to a close, sleep would’ve caught on to you by now if it weren’t for the sound of footsteps outside your door. Soft and careful, mindful of the weight it’ll put on the floorboards. You sit up to listen closely and you count.

One. Two. Three. Four.

The sound abruptly stops after just four short steps that ends at your bedroom door. You hold your breath and you wait for any following noise, but nothing ever came. So you shove your blanket to the side and swing your legs off the bed. You already miss the warmth of your blanket as you shiver, minimally dressed in short shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

You reach the door in two strides and gasp in surprise after you pulled it open.

“Shit, you scared me.” You exclaim, hands hovering in front of you, hesitant to touch him in fear of scaring him off. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He’s just standing there, posture rigid and tense. You see his fingers drumming on his side, seemingly itching to do something.

“I’m sorry for waking you.” His voice is scratchy from sleep and he looks deeply apologetic, so much so that the sight of it makes your chest tighten.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep yet anyway. Don’t worry about it.“

His eyes look into yours, flickering back to your bed for a split second before they were piercing into yours again.

“Still, i’m sorry for interrupting your night. You can go back to sleep now, i’m fine.”

His body was already starting to pull away when you hold onto his hand to keep him there.

“You don’t sound or look fine, Dex.” His sullen eyes seem to be more sunken than normal. You’ve known him for long enough to recognize when he’s inching closer to the edge again. “Tell me how to help. Because we both know you wouldn’t be standing here in front of my door if you didn’t need anything.” You tighten your grip on his hand to anchor him. “Talk to me.” Your voice firm.

Dex stays quiet for a moment, but he eventually relents. “I can’t sleep. My body is so fucking exhausted but i can’t sleep.” He mutters, eyes looking away.

You don’t move your gaze from him, studying his features. “And it’s not cause of the couch or the shitty blanket either is it?” Your thumb starts to draw soothing circles now.

Dex shakes his head in response and shot his gaze down to the floor.

Two choices present themselves to you. The first one is to ignore his troubles and send him off to go sleep on the couch again with an almost paper thin blanket, alone. The second one is to, well, offer to share your bed with him. And it sounds awfully appealing, no matter how much you want to deny it.

Your voice gets momentarily caught in your throat as you attempt to speak. “Do you-“ He lifts his head and scans your face. There’s a glint in his eyes now as he hangs on to your every word. “Do you want to sleep in my bed instead?” Your throat clicked as you swallowed. “With me.”

Dex looks a bit stunned at your offer. Maybe he thought that you’d be open to play shrink and talk with him until he felt better. Not this. And you’re starting to regret saying it, with every second that passes.

“I’m so sorry, i don’t know why i said that.” You sputter as you retract your hand to your chest. All of a sudden you feel naked and self conscious. It feels as if you’ve cut yourself open, your heart momentarily exposed for Dex to freely observe and pick at.

But what he does next, you never saw coming.

Your breath hitched as his hand lightly caress your waist, fingers slowly moving to wrap around it. His touch feels pleasantly warm, but stiff, like he’s never done anything like this before in his life, like he was afraid to mess something up.

“No, i um— i’d like that.” He says with a nod. “Very much.”

Dex has never been the type of person to show much in his face. One could almost never guess the kind of thoughts that pass through his head at times, unless he lets you; like right now.

Your eyes soften at the sight of him blushing. All shy and molten, like he didn’t just come knocking at your door with somebody else’s blood on his hands.

“Are you sure?”

He nods slowly and you almost miss the small quirk of his lips in the low light. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” You say breathlessly. “Come on then.” You grab his hand that was stuck to your waist and tug him towards the bed.

“Close the door for me will ya?” You look back at him with a smile. And he obeys.

You climb on the bed first and waddle on your knees towards the other end, hand still tightly clasped around his, causing him to move his arm around to follow your erratic movements. His actions might look a bit silly to anyone who sees it, but you think it’s cute of him to do so. “Are you okay with that side? Or do you want my side?” You ask with genuine interest.

“No it’s fine, i’m good right here.” Dex finally follows suit and situates himself on the bed. He looks a bit awkward laying there, body stiff as a board and brows twitching. He seems to be overthinking where he should put which body part where, where to look and which direction to face.

You let out a chuckle and draped the blanket over both of your bodies before laying down on your side, your arms curled to your chest. “Relax. If you keep that up maybe I’ll send you back out there to sleep on the couch if it’s better for you.”

Dex snorts softly and visibly relaxed at the joke.

Once again, silence comes over you, but after a few minutes, you decide to speak up again. “You can come a little closer if you’d like.”

He angles his face your way with a look of surprise etched into his face. A soft “Okay.” is all that comes out. But he does inch closer eventually.

The room seem to have shrunk, it feels tight and you almost struggle to breathe at his close proximity. You’re close enough to lay your cheek on his shoulder if you wanted to. But you settle for looking at his now, much softer side profile. Until you can’t take it anymore.

One of your hands reach up and hovers closely above his chest. You look at him intensely, silently pleading. He meets your eyes as he curls his fingers around your palm and places your joined hands on his chest, heart racing underneath it.

You heart also feels like it’ll burst out any second now. Begging to be surrendered to his hands.

With a newfound bravery, you inch closer to his face and lay your cheek halfway on his pillow, nuzzling your face in the space between his chin and his shoulder.

“Sleep.” You whisper into his neck. “I’m right here with you.”

“Thank you.” Dex whispers back into your hair.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Dex.”

As you lay here with him, you think back to everything that has led you both to this exact moment and you can’t help but smile.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷

Woke up and i couldn’t stop thinking about orange cat dex sneaking into my bed, so i finished this as soon as possible because i find it hard to resist intrusive bursts of inspiration.

[dissolvedprincess]

wax and wane with Benjamin Poindexter pt.1

a/n: i really needed to write this.

warnings: explicit smut, minors dni

______________________________________

The first thing you notice is the smell of the candles.

Not floral, not sweet, rich, earthy, with something darker beneath. Something like smoke, like skin.

There are three of them burning already, low and warm on the bedside table. Pooling slowly.

Dex leans against the wall like he's got all the time in the world, arms folded, head tilted slightly as he watches you stretch out on the bed. Not quite restrained, but placed, exactly how he wanted you.

"Ready?" he asks. There's a smirk on his lips, but his eyes are dark. Focused. Hungry.

You nod. "I think so."

"That's not really the answer I'm looking for." He pushes off the wall, walking closer, his steps slow, deliberate. He picks up one of the candles, testing the tilt, watching the wax swell at the edge. "Try again."

You swallow. "Yes. I'm ready."

That smirk twitches higher, approving. "Good," he says, and then the first drop lands.

It's not pain, it's a sudden jolt of heat, quick and biting, but fleeting. The sensation blooms just below your collarbone, and your breath stutters.

You weren't prepared for how it would feel. How it would burn and cool all at once.

You hear yourself giggle, just a little. Reflexive. Surprised. Dex raises an eyebrow. "Ticklish?"

"Maybe."

He hums thoughtfully and steps closer to the bed. "You should've told me that earlier."

You know that look, when he gets curious, focused. Like a cat with something twitching in front of it. And the way he looks at you now?

You're the twitch.

Another drip. Lower this time, just over your sternum. Your shoulders flinch involuntarily, and the sound you make is somewhere between a squeak and a laugh.

"Oh, you are so fucked," Dex murmurs, "I didn't even mean to make that fun for you."

"I didn't say it was fun!"

He raises the candle again. "You giggled," he says flatly.

You laugh again. this time at him, at the look of mock offense on his face, and that's your mistake. The next drop comes without warning, and then another, quicker, right after it. He watches you twitch, squirm, bite down on your lip. Not just from the sting of the wax, but the way the tickle and the heat blur into something you can't quite control.

He leans down, face just inches from yours.

"Still fun?" he asks, his voice a little lower now.

The smirk's still there, but there's something more serious in his eyes, like he's testing something. Like he's watching how far you'll let him take it.

You nod, breathless. "Yeah. Kinda intense. But... good."

Dex hums again, pleased.

Then he's shifting, kneeling onto the bed with the candle still in hand, placing it carefully beside you. His fingers trail down your arm, not rough, not even possessive. Just enough to remind you, you're his to play with right now.

"Here's what I'm thinking," he murmurs. "You laugh, I keep going. You beg, maybe I slow down. You safeword... I kiss it better."

He brushes his fingers over the spots already cooling on your skin. "But until then? I want to see how many noises I can get out of you."

You don't even get the chance to answer before another drop lands on the inside of your thigh.

The skin there is more tender. You arch up, a gasp slipping out before you can stop it.

Dex watches with obvious delight. "I could do this all night."

You believe him.

And he does, for a while, dripping, pausing, adjusting. Not enough to burn, never too much.

He trails the wax in a line down your torso, over your ribs, along the bend of your hip, watching how you react to each place like he's mapping you. Testing you.

And you, helpless, giggling, squirming beneath him, you're glowing. Every new spot he chooses makes you shiver or twitch or laugh in that breathless way that makes him lean in a little closer, wanting more.

"You sound so fucking cute when it stings," he murmurs. "You trying to stay still for me?"

You nod frantically. It only makes him laugh, low, amused, predatory.

He sets the candle down again and runs his thumb over a patch of drying wax on your chest. His touch is warm, gentler now, grounding.

But there's heat in his gaze too, building behind all the teasing.

"You're doing so well," he says, quieter. A little rough around the edges now. "Still laughing. Still letting me play."

His hand slides lower. Between your legs. Over the place he hasn't touched yet. "Think you've earned something for that."

Your breath catches as his fingers tease, finally pressing where you're already embarrassingly slick, heat of the wax still cooling above, but this is where you're burning.

"Maybe just one more drip..." he teases.

Your whole body flinches.

"...Or maybe I keep these hands busy instead."

He presses his palm down. And the wax might've been the start, but this?

This is where you melt.

You're already shaking, and he's barely touched you.

The wax trails are cooling on your skin, like tiny ghosts of the heat he's been feeding you drop by drop. You're sticky with it, raw and flushed and aching.

And Dex? He's still fully clothed. Still watching you with that maddening, knowing expression like he has all night and every wicked idea in the world to burn through first.

His fingers move slow, dragging through the wet heat between your legs like it's nothing special.

Like it's just him testing the temperature of bathwater.

"Goddamn," he mutters. "You're soaked."

You moan softly, because it's true, and because of the way he says it. Not mocking. Not surprised.

Just impressed, like he's proud of what he's done to you.

"You liked the wax that much?" he asks. You nod, barely able to speak. Your body is thrumming, hypersensitive from all the teasing, every nerve lit up.

"Mm." His thumb presses just slightly firmer over your clit. "I kind of figured. You're twitchy when you're turned on."

Your hips buck helplessly, chasing the contact. He pulls back immediately.

You whine.

"Oh, no," he murmurs, and that smirk is back, soft and cruel. "This part's not about you taking what you want. You know that."

You breathe through your teeth, trembling.

"Please, Dex..."

"Please what, baby?"

You screw your eyes shut, swallowing your pride. "Please touch me."

"I am touching you." He lets one fingertip ghost just barely over your entrance, not even enough to slip inside. "You gotta be more specific than that."

"Dex," you gasp. "Please. Don't tease."

"Oh no," he says again, softly, his lips brushing your ear now. "I'm absolutely gonna tease. I just want to hear you beg a little prettier while I do it."

And then his fingers are back, sliding down again, dragging slow, excruciating circles.

Barely there, maddening. He's learning you by feel.

Watching every expression that flickers across your face. He kisses the side of your neck, slowly.

"I want you right on the edge," he murmurs against your skin. "So desperate you can't even think. So messy you're begging for things you don't even have words for."

You let out a needy, broken moan. He's doing it. You're already halfway there.

He takes his time. His fingers move like he's exploring, finding every spot that makes you twitch or cry out, and pulling back every time you start to fall apart. He's patient, deliberate. Whispering filthy little things between kisses:

"You always get this wet when you giggle?"

"Bet if I drip wax here..."

"You're shaking. You gonna come just from this?"

You don't even know what your answer would be. You can't speak.

You sob when he finally slips one finger inside, slow and smooth and maddeningly perfect. Your hips buck again, but this time he lets you, matching your rhythm for a few glorious seconds. Then he stops again. Withdraws completely.

You gasp, eyes flying open.

"No-Dex, please-don't stop-"

He kisses you then. Finally. It's hot, possessive, a little bit sweet. His hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing wax from your collarbone as if to say you've taken so much for me already.

"You're close," he whispers. "I can feel it."

You nod frantically. "Please. I want to come."

"Yeah?" His hand slides back down. "You gonna do it for me, then? Gonna fall apart while I fuck you with my fingers?"

"Yes-yes, anything-"

"Shh." He presses his mouth to your throat.

"Don't rush. Let me take my time with you. Let me make you wait."

And you do. Because it's Dex. Because he's playing you like a song, and you'd let him strum this tension out of you for hours if that's what it took.

And when he finally gives you what you need, fingers deep, palm grinding perfectly, words filthy in your ear like kindling to flame, you come hard and fast, with a sound that shocks even you.

Your whole body seizes up. And Dex holds you through it, grounding you with warm hands and a low murmur of praise. "There she is."

[dissolvedprincess]

Please

════════════════════════════

Benjamin Poindexter x reader

Summary: Pure smut. This is based on the many requests I got for some sub!Dex smut.

Word Count: 700+

Warnings: Unprotected sex, my first time writing smut in a while, sub!Dex

Minors DNI

════════════════════════════

Dex was a mess beneath you.

Not that the sight below you was very unusual, because it really wasn't. Dex was weak when it came to you. Any wish, any demand, anything. He would do anything for you.

"B-baby, please," his whines filled your ears as he bucked his hips into yours. He was long past the point of begging. At this point all that he could think about was how close to the edge you'd kept him for God knows how long.

"I know you can take it," your melodic voice soothed his cries. It always did. He was desperate for your praise. A few simple words had him keeping to your praise.

Rolling slow circles with your hips, you moaned as the feeling of his cock stuffed inside of you clouded your senses. You were caring less and less about teasing Dex and more about your own release. It was creeping up on you, you could feel it deep in your bones.

"Oh God," he stuttered out as you changed the pace. His cock was throbbing inside of you. he felt every little squeeze of your tight cunt around him. And God, did it drive him wild. Everything about you did.

Your hips rocked with more speed now. Now that you could feel the fire burning in your belly spreading like a wildfire. A thin glean of sweat coated your chest. Your thighs burned with every movement. And yet the fire that burned within you kept you going.

"L-let me touch you, please." The sound of his begging made your cunt clench. He looked so vulnerable like this. His eyes were half lidded as he babbled pathetic pleads.

"Go ahead," you moaned out, your own need for his touch overcoming the urge to listen to him beg a little bit longer. His touch always made you feel like putty in his hands. He knew every single one of your little sweet spots.

His hands pawed at your breasts with need. They toyed and massaged as you bounced on his cock. His touch made you cry out. He knew your body better than his own. The sound of your moans and cries would echo in his head hours from now. This moment would not be forgotten anytime soon.

"Thank you, God. Thank you," he babbled. His mind was fuzzy around the edges. The only coherent thought in his mind was you.

He gazed up at you through half-lidded eyes. trying to mesmerize every detail of the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way that your breasts bounced every time that you sunk down on his cock, and the way that your moans sounded like a harmony to his ears.

Your pace quickened and he threw his head back with a cry. He could feel the white hot fire that coursed through his veins. His impending release was getting even harder to hold back. He knew that he wouldn't be able to last much longer. He'd been fighting his own orgasm for too long. It was nearing painful at this point.

"God, you're so good for me," you gasped, eyes rolling back. Your cunt throbbed. The sheets were a mess by now. Your juices had long ago soaked Dex's pelvis, eventually leaking below.

"I need to come," he moaned, hips desperately bucking up into yours.

"You can hold it," you replied with a small smile. The pained expression on his face, the utter submission he gave you, all of it made your cheeks flush with pride. He was yours.

As he felt your walls tighten again, he whined. It was painful at this point. His cock throbbed inside of you, begging for a release. You could tell, it wasn't that difficult too.

"Go ahead," you gasped as your movements became jerky, pleasure enveloping your body. It tingled and burned as it courses through you, echoing moans bouncing around the room.

His hips bucked into yours erratically as he came, moans and cries of your name echoing off the wall. His vision blurred as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"So good for me," you hummed, your own euphoric high slowly fading into the distance with each steadying breath.

"All for you," he whined, pulling you closer to him, "Stay like this. Just for a minute."

How could you resist?

════════════════════════════

A/N: It's been so long since I've wrote Smith. I'll get plenty of practice working on all of those other requests! Thanks!

[dissolvedprincess]

Only A Touch From You Will Do

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Dex always counts down the minutes until he’s home again. Until he can breathe again. Until he’s back in your arms again.

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, canon related, some light mention of self esteem issues.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Image by @bullseyelover on Pinterest.

hi again! Thought I’d try my hand at a more softer Dex. I really liked writing this one, the idea that all of his troubles melt away once he gets home to the one he loves makes me happy 🥹 hopefully I’ve done him justice and it isn’t too out of character. Enjoy! x

As soon as Dex walks through the door of your shared apartment, he closes his eyes and takes what feels like his first deep breath of the day. The door closes as his back slumps against it, body sagging with the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders. 

Work was a bust. The rigid structure the FBI provides him doesn't seem to be helping as it once did. His nerves fray with more caseloads coming in. The applause Dex formerly received when completing his assignments now crickets in a desert. 

Each crack in his preserved regime is beginning to reveal itself and Dex’s hands sweat with cold anticipation with the thought of going back tomorrow. 

“Hi, Ben.” And there you are, voice so soft with that soothing lilt that instantly deflates the anxiety that’s been living in his chest since he had to leave you this morning. A smile effortlessly upturns his lips as you drag him out of the dark. It’s just the effect you have on him. 

Dex opens his eyes and is graced by the sight of you, adorned with your favourite hoodie of his. He can’t help how his ears burn as the hem flutters over your bare mid thigh. “Hey, Angel.” 

Your feet patter delicately against the wooden floorboards, slowly making their way towards him. Dex’s heart increases in tempo as your scent gets stronger, the melody of the sweet perfume you normally spray upon your neck weaving its way into his consciousness and ridding the stress of the day. 

He welcomes you instantly, practically dragging you into his body and wrapping his arms around you like a lifeline. Your small oof makes him chuckle and he nuzzles himself into your neck to inhale you in. To make sure you’re real. “Christ, I missed you.” 

Giggling against him, you kiss his covered chest and hum tenderly. “I missed you too, love. Always miss you when you’re gone.” 

A crack splinters Dex’s heart. Your intimate declaration forces him to cuddle you tighter. He misses you all the time too, stares at the framed picture of you on his desk at work and wishes he could be with you instead. 

It only makes his frustrations of work fester; the growing demands he used to fulfill now suddenly too meagre, the injustice of himself being used as a scapegoat for the FBI’s failures. It was unravelling what was once his perfectly stabilizing routine he had curated with precision and instead shifting it into his personal nightmare. 

But all of that fades to the background, into the dark corners of Dex’s mind when you hold him in the delicate way you do. Like he’s made of glass, like he’s something so precious you’re scared if you let go he’ll shatter. Like he matters — worthy of being someone better than he’s destined to be.

He believes it because of you. 

You must feel the vines of stress winding themselves into Dex’s muscles. Propping your chin on his solid chest to look into his eyes, you offer him the most serene glimpse of comfort, eyes earnest and all seeing. As though you can see straight through him. 

Somehow, that doesn’t scare Dex. If anything, it made him feel lighter. 

“How about we snuggle while we order something in, hm?” You whisper gently. “You look tired, baby. Let me make it better.” 

Weakness comes in its purest form at a simple request from you. Dex can no longer be a strong man when you ask for something he so badly needed. Especially in the sugared, saccharine matrimony you hold for him. Like a siren, luring him in only with the sound of your voice. 

How can his answer be anything other than yes? “Yeah.” Dex’s styled hair begins to unravel as he nods his head, his nervous tick of combing his fingers through his hair resulting in several strands becoming loose. “Y-Yes. Please.” 

Dex swallows the lump in his throat. He sounds so needy, so vulnerable and with any other he’d hate himself. But with you, he can’t help but let go and allow you to see him exposed. 

Holding your hand out, you wait until Dex places his own in yours, intertwining your fingers together before leading him to your shared bedroom. 

The two of you are quiet, a silent understanding that only comes with time and grace, as you position yourself against the headboard and pat your thighs. 

“Come here, Ben,” you mumble, eager to not break the intricacy of your bubble. “Let me take care of you for a while.” 

Dex’s head begins to blur, the once sharpened edges of his mind now turning fuzzy. There’s no longer any voices calling him from the darkness, just a bright light on the horizon asking him to join her. 

With shaking hands, Dex undresses himself; tie, shirt, trousers landing on the floor unceremoniously as he rushes to be with you. It’s so unlike himself, such a vast display of disorder it would usually make him feel sick. But like any other since coming home, his worries have disappeared. For now at least. 

Crawling onto the bed, Dex makes his way towards you — so inviting, so deliciously tranquil that his heart races. 

You’re sitting there so patiently, with the kindest eyes Dex doesn’t deserve, waiting for him. He doesn’t let himself believe it most days, that you stick around and love every part of him. But you always lift him back up to the surface to remind him that no matter how hard he tries to push you away, you’re not going anywhere. 

Resting his head upon the plushness of your thigh, Dex fuses himself into you, weaving his arms around your waist and holding you as tight as what’s comfortable. 

You hum, content and happy, and begin to comb your fingers through Dex’s hair. Immediately, he exhales a shaky breath. The world has finally come to a stop, and time pauses for the two of you. 

“Feels good, right?” You mutter soothingly at the purr he lets go. Your newly manicured nails scratch Dex’s scalp so good he shivers with pleasure. 

With hooded eyes, Dex grabs your hand carefully and brings your fingernails to his eye level. “Is that the blue I picked out?” 

“It is,” you confirmed. “Do you like it?” 

“Mm,” he grunts, bringing the palm of your hand to his mouth and placing kisses to your soft skin. “Looks pretty on you.” 

Though he’s buried himself into your stomach, Dex already knows the shy smile you’re wearing and the heat that’s rising upon your cheeks. You had texted him a couple of days ago while he was at work, asking for his opinion on a nail design. A French tip in a shade of navy blue. Dex smiles to himself; you had accepted him, no questions asked. He’s not used to that.

Your motions continue, nails smoothing over his head and consistently hitting the sensitive spot from the migraines he experiences. 

Dex closes his eyes and allows himself a small slither of peace — only for a second, he tells himself. He needs his focus both sharp and precise and poured into you; your safety. But your loving touch is too strong that Dex doesn’t realise how heavy his eyes have become, or the concern that furrows your brows. 

“They work you like a dog,” you whisper into the tender atmosphere. “It’s not fair.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he rasps back to you. “I get to come home to you.” 

And Dex means it. It doesn’t matter what work throws at him, the very solid notion that you’re at home, protected and waiting for him trumps anything else. 

But your solemn whisper, one that Dex has a feeling has marinated in your own busy mind while he’s been working later and harder unnerves him. “Until something happens.” 

Though sleep is catching up with him in the cocoon of your warmth, Dex shakes his head vehemently, desperate to reassure you. “Never,” he declares, confidently. “I’lll always come back to you. Need you safe.” 

He hears you swallow the lump in your throat and feels you nod, the manoeuvre crescending down your body. “That’s right, Ben. You keep me safe.”

Dex holds it like a secret. Something so sacred it’s scarred in his mind. You think he’s important. You think he has a purpose. You’ll never understand how your innocent affirmations hold weight in his mind.

“And you keep me sane, Angel.” Sleep catches up to Dex, your touch like a lullaby. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Consciousness waves in and out of Dex’s mind as he succumbs to slumber, but he can rest easy as you tuck the two of you into the sheets and gift him one last kiss to his forehead. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.” 

[dissolvedprincess]

to be seen with Benjamin Poindexter

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this soooo i hope anon enjoys it just as much.

warnings: explicit smut, minors dni

______________________________________

You weren't being shy about it.

You watched yourself in the mirror across from the bed like you owned the room, hips cocked, hands gliding slow over your curves. The lingerie clung to every inch of you, snug and deliberate. You looked good. Fuckable, even. Confidence settled on your skin like silk.

The lighting in Dex's bedroom was soft, hazy, just enough to catch the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, the way the lace traced your thighs like a secret meant only for him.

You turned slightly, showing off, admiring how the bra lifted your chest, how your body moved with intention. A cocky little strut most people never got to see.

But Dex? Dex watched like a man starved.

"Don't stop," he said, voice low and rough, seated on the edge of the bed, one hand flexing slowly over his thigh. "Keep lookin', baby."

You smirked at him through the mirror. "You just gonna sit there and stare?" He tilted his head, eyes sharp, tracking every shift of your body like a sniper.

"Wouldn't wanna interrupt." You knew what he saw. Thick thighs, plush ass, the kind of softness that drove him wild. And that lingerie? You wore it for yourself, but his eyes, roaming your reflection like he was carving it into memory, that was a bonus.

You held his gaze, arched a little more, hips tilted just right.

He shifted, barely, but the flare in his nostrils gave him away.

"You're drooling," you teased.

His jaw clenched. "You think you're cute," he muttered, fingers twitching. "Teasin' like that."

"I know I'm cute," you shot back, biting your lip.

"Why else would you keep buying mirrors for your bedroom?"

That broke him. He stood slowly, like a fuse burning down. For a second, you thought he might keep watching. But then, two strides, and he was on you. Hands gripping your waist. Mouth hot at your throat.

"You wanna act like that?" he growled, dragging his teeth along your jaw. "Then you're gonna watch yourself come apart for me."

His lips were all passion, deliberate, devastating. He kissed you like he wanted to own the air in your lungs, like he knew exactly what soaked your pussy before he even touched it. Like he loved teasing that wetness out of you with just his mouth.

Your hands moved fast, greedy. You stripped him with urgency, peeling his clothes off piece by piece, fabric landing in careless piles across the room. Shirt. Pants. Nothing but skin, hot and solid against yours.

Then, slowly, so fucking slow, he walked you backward, lips never leaving your neck. One hand on your lower back, the other slipping down to your thigh, lifting it just enough to feel how easily you yielded to his touch.

He guided you to the bed like something sacred, laying you back with reverence. But the gleam in his eye? That said he planned to ruin you.

He hovered, drinking you in. The way your body spilled over the sheets, thighs parted just enough. Your chest rising in that pretty bra. He let out a shaky breath like he was trying to stay in control, but his fingers twitched again.

"Turn around," he said. Quiet. Firm.

You did, slowly, giving him the full view of your ass. You didn't need to look back to know his eyes were locked on you, steady and sharp.

You felt it crawl up your spine. He climbed onto the bed behind you, hooked an arm around your waist, and pulled you back against him. His cock dragged between your thighs, thick and heavy, sliding through your slick folds with a teasing grind. Once. Twice.

Then the lingerie was gone, yanked down your legs with a low, frustrated growl, like it had dared get in his way.

"You see that?" he murmured at your ear, voice wrecked. "Look how perfect you look. Look what you do to me."

You looked. How could you not?

The curve of your hips. The way your thighs trembled open for him. The raw, intimate hunger in his eyes as he rutted against you, not even inside yet, like he was barely holding it together.

"You don't even know what it does to me," he muttered, mostly to himself. "I could fuckin' come just from this."

You whimpered, part embarrassment, mostly arousal, and his grip tightened.

"You think I don't notice how you look at yourself?" he breathed. "Every time we fuck. Like you're surprised I want you. Like you don't know how fuckin' insane you make me."

His words were sharp, but the worship beneath them was unmistakable. Then he thrust inside you in one hard motion, and you gasped, catching it in the mirror: the way your body opened for him, took him, molded around him like it had always belonged there.

"Fuck," Dex hissed. Not looking at you, looking at your reflection. Watching his cock disappear into you, again and again.

"You like seein' yourself like this, don't you?" His voice was dark silk. "Pretty little thing gettin' fucked stupid. So needy for it."

He pressed a palm to your lower belly, right where the base of his cock hit, grinding in deep and slow.

"Feel that?" he panted. "That's me. Deep inside this sweet body. You were made for this."

Your hands clawed at the sheets, back arching, breath hitching. You were close, so fucking close you could barely breathe.

"Dex-" you gasped, voice breaking.

He leaned in, chest to your back, hand sliding up between your breasts.

"Eyes on the mirror, baby," he growled. "Don't look away." You didn't. Not when his pace turned mean, not when your thighs started to shake. You watched it all. His jaw tight. Hair damp. That crazed, beautiful gleam in his eye as he fucked you like he was staking a claim.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he groaned. "So sweet. So full of me."

The praise undid you. You sobbed his name, and he snapped, pulling you back onto his cock with a feral growl, teeth sinking into your shoulder.

"Mine," he snarled against your skin.

"Come for me. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart."

And you did. The orgasm slammed through you, fast and brutal. Your whole body jerked, thighs trembling, mouth open in a silent scream as you shattered around him.

Dex didn't stop. He fucked you through it, moaning into your neck, muttering broken things, “So fuckin' good, I got you, baby,” until he followed, loud and shaking, spilling deep inside you.

When you finally collapsed, he stayed wrapped around you, arm snug under your belly, chest pressed tight to your back like if he let go, he might come apart too.

He eased you down gently, like you were fragile again.