"He hit me, and it felt like a kiss."
Dexter Morgan x obsessive f reader One Shot
Hello! I love Dexter, and having been inspired by the few (amazing) fics on this site, I thought I would start writing my own. Please bear with me, I am new to this (honestly think no one will read this) and am still figuring out formatting (tags, TW etc). Please note this is a fantasy, and I am not seeking to represent what I believe a relationship of this kind, or really any kind, should look like. Also, there isn't as much pure smut in this, as I kinda wanted to focus on the tension around this situation (and I'm lowkey not good at it lol).
TWs: kidnapping, dom Dexter, degradation, predator/prey, fingering in v, knife play, minor blood play, religious themes.
Summary: You thought your glances at Dexter were discreet, but little did you know he looked when you weren’t noticing.
Also, I was thinking of this song a lot whilst writing this! Hence the title haha. I also took title song inspo from @dexteri0us - I love your work!
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My God, lingering just beneath the surface.
The sun was out painfully early today, and you could feel your blouse sticking to your skin as you scrambled to make it inside and find solace in the central air conditioning. Miami had always been hot, and what tourists would deem "summer attire" was the usual dress code for everyday here. But lately, the heat had been thick, forcing everyone into an almost drunken state, desperate for a cool breeze.
So while it would make sense for you to head into work early to avoid melting in the regular work rush, you knew that was not your intention. There was only one reason you cared for this receptionist role at Miami Metro, and that reason was just walking in as you settled in behind your desk.
You watched as his lanyard swooshed from side to side, drawing your attention to his rolled-up sleeves, hitting just above his elbows. Dexter Morgan was not just any workplace crush; he was your god. If your days were a blank canvas, he was the brush stroking across the surface. If you were drawn to the water, he was the siren alluring you with a promise of an unimaginable world. You held your breath from the moment you opened your eyes till he gave you permission to exhale with his presence. He was simply branded in your mind, and what a pity he never knew, or at least, you thought he didn't.
Every day followed the same routine. You got here approximately 15 minutes early, based on Dexter's usual arrival time, and you waited to be the first to greet him. If he was going to consume every thought, decision, and breath you took, the least you could do was make an effort to exist in his world. However, today was different. Before you could pretend to look up from your non-existent task to greet him, he was already gone, seemingly heading straight for the bathroom.
"That's strange, I don't think he has ever used the bathroom at the station. At least never in such a hurry."
As you stood up to peek over the front slab, you noticed a piece of paper pricking your hand. The note read:
"Do you think I don't notice?"
You crumpled the paper in an instant, and that's when it hit you.
You noted his entrance through the sliding doors, but you couldn't recall when he would have had a chance to slide this notice on your front desk. You also failed to notice that not only had the air conditioning not been working, but there was also a faint medicinal scent clinging to the air around you. It was only moments before your knees began to buckle and you fell backwards, where two large hands waited to catch you. ________________________________________________________________Though you may have been sweating earlier, you were drowning now. Beads of sweat pooled around your neck and cheek, having settled where your face was pressed against. From the warmth bubbling below you and that unmistakable smell of a car that had been sitting in the sun for too long, you realised you were in the boot. Now a heat began to grow in your cheeks, no longer from the sweat, but the thought, "Was this Dexter's car?"
Before you could ponder further, the rustling engine had stopped, followed by the slam of the car door. You closed your eyes, bracing for the light that was about to hit, and the reality of your situation.
"I know you're awake, don't even think of moving."
Just as the words left his mouth, you felt one hand slide under your legs, and another over your face. His grip was firm, but you could sense in the way he dug his nails into your thigh and cheek, that he was restraining himself. Dexter carried you bridal style through the back door, and as you entered, the blur in your vision began to subside, and you got a good look at your surroundings.
Each window was covered with blackout tape, and the surrounding furniture had been wrapped tightly in what seemed to be cling wrap. It was dark, but it was hotter. With the windows shut, any cool breeze that may have provided comfort remained shut out, and so the air was still. This was no longer a game within the confines of your mind. Dexter was no longer a God you had the choice of denying when your desires willed for something else. You were on his turf now, and there was no escaping the wrath he chose to lay upon you. Your psyche or your body.
He dropped you onto the wooden floor, and you scrambled to ground yourself with your hands and ankles zip-tied. Your gaze finally met his when he slapped you. A sharp tingling danced across your face.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
He grabbed your cheeks between his fingers and brought himself closer. You turned your gaze away, and he squeezed harder.
"Do you think I'm stupid? That I just fail to notice you being everywhere I turn at work, following my every move. I have a shadow, and I have no interest in acquiring a pet, so what is it you are trying to accomplish?"
You choked. "I want you, just like this."
Dexter furrowed his brows in confusion, but you noticed a glimmer in those black holes he had for eyes. He let go of your face.
"You have no idea what you are asking for right now. I'm not a quick fuck like Quinn, and frankly, I would have no interest in such a relationship."
You laughed at his suggestion and scooted closer.
"Who said I wanted a boyfriend? I want you just like this with me, holding me hostage in your freakshow you call a house, in the facade you call your life and job at the department. I know something inside of you is sick, but your sickness is sweet. I just want that sweetness running through me."
Dexter's mouth fell open slightly, his tongue circling the bottom of his teeth, as he took a sharp inhale. You noticed his hand fidget next to his feet, but more importantly, you could see the crease in his pants growing larger.
He wanted this more than he would ever let on, and that was enough for you.
"What's wrong, Dexter? Never been wanted before?"
"Not by those who lived long enough to see it through".
As his words rang in your ear, you felt him grab your feet and pull you forward, leaving you on your back with your arms above your head. He proceeded to cut the zip ties around your ankles and sat back.
"You have about 1 minute to get up and out of my sight. If I catch you in this house after that, start praying."
Your breath hitched as you scrambled to your feet, using all the lower-body strength you could conjure. But before you could muster the courage to run, you glanced back at Dexter on the floor. His eyes were covered by his palms, and he was mumbling numbers under his breath. You understood. This was a test of your mental and physical strength. Your God gave you the chance to abandon him, for "true safety" and "comfort." Did he know that you had no intention of doing so?
You walked slowly down the hall, using the wall as support, before ducking away into what looked like his bedroom. You shut the door quietly, but loud enough to hear just where you were. It was silent, and as you waited in anticipation, you felt the stickiness between your thighs grow. The man who created your world, what a way he had, drawing the desire right from your core. You knelt down in front of the closed door, and as his footsteps grew closer, you closed your eyes.
My God is a just god, and he will do with me what he sees right.
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After Dexter opened the door, everything seemed a blur. A hot, sticky, bloody fucking mess of a blur. God, as we know him, resides in a sacred heaven up above. Dexter created heaven and hell just for you.
Dexter knelt down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, smashing his lips onto yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, swirling around, desperate to suck the soul out of your body. As he pulled back, he bit onto your lip, tasting your sweet crimson mixed with his and your spit. He signalled for you to lift yourself by tugging his fistful of your hair towards the bed, and you followed, lying yourself down on your stomach, arms behind your back.
He grabbed at your pencil skirt and spread your legs hastily. He inhaled your wet panties, licking at the spot where your wetness and sweat had mixed, before proceeding to reach forward and stuff them into your mouth. God, he was electric.
You squirmed as you felt his hot fingers slide between your folds, entangling in the stickiness oozing out of your cunt. He took his sweet time, pinching, stretching, and digging his nails into each fold, before finally reaching your clit. Dexter put his weight on your back, bringing his hot breath right to your ear.
"Can you picture the blood rushing to this cunt? A stream of crimson heating up your folds and clit in anticipation of my touch."
He massaged your clit in slow circular motions, spreading the stickiness. Your cunt was squelching, and those sweet sounds mixed with the growing moans you could no longer fight back. He quickened the pace and slowly traced his tongue down your back to the back of your pussy, waiting to lick up the wet slowly building up from his fingers. You came hard, body convulsing, and Dexter pressed your weight into his face, not letting one drop escape his thirsty tongue.
Coming down from your high, he turned you on your back to face him. His chin glistened, and his hair stuck to his forehead. He smirked. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he loved watching your chest heave up and down as you waited in anticipation for his next move. Where would he touch you? What would he say, and would he dare to hurt you? That final thought left you more excited than you wanted to be, and he knew it.
Dexter reached back into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife.
"I've seen the way your eyes follow me at work, a pathetic imitation of a predator taunting its prey.
He brought the knife up to your right cheek, pressing his legs between yours to settle your squirming underneath him. This was everything you desired, and you could feel the heat in your cunt rising once again, but a small part of you feared that whatever darkness lay inside Dexter would take your last breath at any moment now.
Just as the thought crossed your mind, he came right up to your ear and began to drag the knife down the right side of your cheek ever so slowly, before slicing through your skin. You shrieked, and he wrapped his hand around your mouth.
"My prey don't get to speak".
He pressed harder before wiping the dripping blood with his thumb and sucking it dry.
You watched as he continued to drag the tip of the knife down your body, your skin dipping ever so gently underneath the blade. He circled around your nipples, and you were so sure he was going to slice a nipple off. He laughed. In this moment, your fear brought him more pleasure than anything. He continued down and around your cunt, poking at your inner thighs. You fought the urge to close your legs and tried desperately to breathe out, knowing the tip of the blade would puncture your skin with one sudden movement. But before you could settle, he turned the tip of the blade towards himself and positioned the knife's grip at your entrance.
"I gave you your chance to leave, and now you're gonna take exactly what you deserve".
Dexter pushes the grip of the knife forward, and you threw your head back in pleasure and agony. The ribbed edges pushed against your folds, but despite the tension, you felt your cunt desperate to swallow the knife hole.
Slowly, he pulled the grip in and out, and naturally, you felt your hips rock with his rhythm. The thrill of knowing he could push all the way, splitting you in two at your core, caused your entire body to tense with excitement, a rush you never felt. As he thrusted the grip, his thumb gravitated towards your clit, rubbing in harsh circles, speeding up with each thrust. You watched Dexter's restraint, sweat trickling down his forehead as he stopped himself from ripping through you. The sight of him above you, your life in his hands, you never felt more turned on. You were an animal he kept solely for his pleasure, bringing you to the edge and pulling back at the last second.
You couldn't take it any longer, and your orgasm ripped through your body, your legs shaking violently. Dexter pulled the grip of the knife out slowly, and brought it to your mouth. It was shining, your juices wrapped all around.
You obliged, and he pushed the grip against your mouth, forcing you to clean up the mess your cunt made on his precious tool.
Dexter pulled on your arms, forcing you to sit up. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed the cut on your cheek.
He had found the glimpse of his darkness in you, and your prayers had been answered.
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