summary: dex is the perfect boyfriend. at least, he makes you forget the things that would prove otherwise.
pairing: benjamin poindexter x f!reader
content/warnings: 18+ (mdni), brief description of sexual acts, obsessive behavior, codependency, manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of firearms
word count: 1.5k
A/N: surprise!! i didn't want to leave you guys without any Dex while i'm on my trip before the next week's chapter of North Star :) so here's a treat from me to you! technically part of the North Star universe, but can be read separately from the series. i like to think of this as a little interlude, a peak into Dex and reader's relationship before chapter seven. hope you enjoy!
Dex will never leave you alone. Proximity, to him, is worship.
Standing at the stove making dinner? He’s pressed behind you, arms looped around your waist, chin hooked over your shoulder as he watches you stir whatever you’re making that night.
Grading papers on the couch? He’s sitting there too, reaching over to take your legs and place them over his lap, idly running his hands up and down your calves as he waits for you to be finished.
Getting ready? He’s leaning in the doorframe, watching you apply your makeup in the mirror, already starting to conjure up some excuse as to why you shouldn’t be going out to dinner with your friends that night.
You made that mistake once before. After a long day at work in the dead heat of summer, you trudged home covered in sweat and misery, wanting only to take a shower, get a moment of peace, and slide between your sheets clean as a whistle.
You managed to do that, actually. In rare form, Dex had been stuck late at the field office for God knows what. He had texted you multiple times earlier to inform you of that.
Hey, going to be late tonight. I’m so sorry. Do you want to meet me at the office and then we can go to dinner? I hope you had a good day. I love you.
Did that dad from parent teacher conferences email you again?
Actually, just wait at school. I don’t want you riding the subway alone.
Call me when you see this.
Are you still in your classroom?
Who are you with right now?
Are you not going to answer my call?
Unfazed at this point in your relationship by his reactions (and sometimes, a little bit flattered), you had promptly called him back and assured him that no, that dad from parent-teacher conferences hadn’t emailed you again, no, you weren’t going to ride the subway alone, yes, you loved him, and no, you weren’t mad at him.
Finally, you had settled on assuring him you would come straight home after work. It wasn’t like Dex didn’t already have your location, anyway. He would pick up food on the way home.
You just hadn’t told him you had changed plans halfway through and decided a shower and bed were a better fit. It was no big deal, you thought.
You were in that limbo between deep sleep and waking when you distantly heard the familiar jangle of keys, then the heavy sound of footsteps moving down the hallway. Your bedroom door creaked open.
You cracked open an eye. Dex stood in the doorway, illuminated by the hallway light. A black figure cut in the pale backdrop. In one hand, he held a plastic bag– your favorite Chinese takeout, likely.
“Hi, honey,” you yawned, stretching your arms out and watching as Dex disappeared, likely putting the takeout on the kitchen counter (he despised food being anywhere other than the kitchen). A moment later, he reappeared and sat on the bed beside you, his weight dipping into the mattress.
Dex’s calloused hand found yours on the sheets, squeezing once. He had to touch you as soon as he saw you, always. Like he was checking if you still existed.
“You’re already in bed? Are you feeling okay?”
You hummed and sank back against the pillow, eyes heavy as you looked affectionately upon your boyfriend. He was so cute when he was concerned. “Mhmm. Just tired.”
He brushed his free hand over your forehead, pushing back some of your hair. Then he leaned forward, skimmed his lips over your forehead, and–
You felt him stop breathing. His hand stayed in his hair, his mouth close to your skin. Dex’s nose brushed your hairline, and then he inhaled.
“...Did you already shower?”
You blinked. Dex’s face hovered over yours, only inches away, but the expression on it had gone strangely blank. Empty, almost. Like blood had drained from him and left only a mask. It made your stomach tighten.
“Um…yeah,” you stuttered, taken off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. “I got really sweaty walking home. It was kind of gross so–”
What? You pushed yourself up from the pillows onto your elbows. Dex remained in place, watching you too closely with that flat expression. “Dex, what? It was like, ninety-five degrees out.”
He scrubbed a hand down his jaw. Something was building, you could sense it.
“It wasn’t ninety-five today,” he said flatly. “It was eighty-nine.”
…was he fucking with you? Your mouth opened, and then closed. “Dex.”
Suddenly, Dex stood from the bed and began pacing the bedroom. In the low light, you could see red blooming beneath the collar of his shirt. He was still dressed for work: white button-up, sleeves rolled to his forearms, gray slacks, holster at his hip. His gun was still in it.
“I don’t–” Dex dragged both hands behind his head, fingers pressing hard into the back of his neck. “I just don’t know why you would lie to me.”
He kept rambling, almost like he was talking to himself. “You’ve never showered without me. I mean, not since we– I don’t know why you do that and not tell me. I-I would tell you.”
“Dex, stop.” You pushed the comforter off of you before you could think better of it. Dex turned sharply towards you at the sound of your bare feet padding against the floor, like the small movement had startled him. His chest was rising and falling too fast, his hands still locked behind his neck, elbows drawn wide. In the dark, his eyes looked almost black. “I’m not mad at you. I promise.”
His jaw worked. “We always shower together.”
Dex was right. Since your relationship had become official, since the first time you slept together and suddenly apartment 415 ceased to exist, Dex had more or less moved into 416. You realized you hadn't showered alone in weeks.
You would rise from the couch, or the dining table, or the bed, and on instinct, Dex would too, following you down the hall as you made your way to the bathroom. It was like he had Pavlov-ed himself to the sound of the shower head turning on. The second the water started, he knew it was time to join you.
You were still in that glorious haze of the early days of your relationship, where being joined at the hip felt romantic instead of suffocating. Where you wanted to spend every moment either snuggling, whispering cringey words of affection, or fucking like rabbits. The shower tended to be the latter.
“And it’s not even–” He cut himself off, swallowing. “It’s not about sex. I don’t need it to be about that. I just…I just like taking care of you.”
Looking back, you should have countered that. You should have said something about how taking a shower wasn’t a betrayal, and you were allowed to be alone. That you didn’t need him in you or on you constantly.
But Dex was upset. And that fact alone hurt you. Because you loved him.
So instead of doing something smart, you reached for him.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly as your hands cupped his twitching jaw. Dex’s shoulders loosened the second you touched him. “I didn’t know it would upset you this much.”
His breath left him all at once, shaky and relieved. “No, no, don’t–” Dex’s hands came up to hold onto your wrists, thumbs moving over your pulse. “Don’t apologize, please. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to freak out.”
“I know I get…” His eyes flickered between yours. “Intense.”
“A little.” You gave him a small smile. “But I like it.”
Dex huffed a thin laugh that quickly disappeared. His eyes had gone watery.
“I just love you,” he said. “That’s all. I just… I love you so much that sometimes it hurts, and I just– I don’t know what to do with it.”
Your heart squeezed. How could it not? How could you look at this handsome man, who bought you your favorite food and gave you mind-numbing orgasms and listened to you and wanted you with such total devotion, and be mad at him when he said he loved you so much he couldn’t stand a second without you? You were only human.
“I love you too,” You kissed the corner of his mouth gently, then fully on his lips. “I’ll make it up to you.”
And just like that, as you took a second, unnecessary shower with your perfect boyfriend, you didn’t think once about that silly little fight. You couldn’t, with your cheek pressed to the glass door, his hips snapping against your ass, his cock hitting that perfect spot in you over and over again as his mouth was at your ears, telling you how he loved you. Dex always made you forget those things when he had you like this. He made you forget the blank look in his eyes. He made you forget how any sane person would have broken up with someone over that. He made you forget the loaded gun that had been holstered at his hip for the entire conversation. He just made you…
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