pairing: OS!Dexter Morgan x Twin Sister!Maisie Morgan
cw: weed intox, incest, guys its kinda my thing
Dexter had sent his twin sister a text. “I founf brwnies.”
It made absolutely no sense. Dexter never texts her like that. Did a toddler hack his phone? She rolled her eyes and replied quickly.
”Where?”
”Frudge.” The girl snorts at Dexter’s response. Oh yeah, Dad grounded him last night, so he’s stuck at home today while she’s coming off a night shift at the Morgue. She gets into the car Dad got for her and Dexter to share—a black SUV, “a nurses’ car”, Dad had said—and drops her bag into the passenger seat. Why would there be brownies in the fridge?
”Didn’t Deb make those last night?” She texts, with no response. “I’m off shift, omw home.”
When she parks in the garage, she cannot wait to take a hot shower and get really fucking high. She’s off tomorrow, so she can stay up this afternoon with her twin brother. He better have saved me one, she thinks to herself.
She comes into the house and Dexter’s arm flings up from the couch in a wave. “Sister!” Dexter calls, rolling up to his feet. He’s wearing a goofy grin on his pretty face, but rushes over to grab the tin of brownies he had found. “Look, they’re so good. I had five.”
“Five?! That’s my brother Dexter, eating enough for the whole family.” She is only half joking, yanking open the tin to make sure there’s some for her. She is relieved to see another four, and takes out two for herself. There’s a sticky note on the side, but neither of them care to read it. Recently Debbie’s taken to writing notes to make Dad stop touching the bad food; It was probably something like “Dad—Are you trying to clog your arteries again??!”
”Thanks, Dex. I’m gonna shower, I smell like formaldehyde.” She smirks and winks, taking her brownies on a napkin to her room. Dex laughs and nods, going back to the couch. It takes her no time at all to wolf down the brownies while picking out her loungewear, recognizing the tingly feeling that comes over her while she’s showering. These are pot brownies. Did Dexter know this? Did he get her high on purpose?
Not that she’s complaining, she loves being high. It’s kinda the only way her trauma leaves her alone for a while. She brings a drink with her to the couch, plopping down with a sigh and immediately giggles at the sight of her twin.
Dexter is currently sitting upside down on the couch, his legs over the back instead, and seeing his sister upside down makes Dexter laugh uncharacteristically. She leans over and lays across his stomach, her fingers curling into his white shirt as Dexter plays with her hair.
Dexter chuckles fondly at how clingy and needy his sister is right now, it warms his heart in a way that he can’t explain. All he knows is that his sister is beautiful. He moves his hand along her side, fingers tracing shapes on her hip softly as his other hand plays with her hair, twirling it around his finger.
Neither of them notice when Debra comes home from school to get ready for volleyball practice. Until Deb’s furious voice rings out from the kitchen. “What the fuck, Dex?”
Said brother slowly turns his head toward the kitchen, eyes widening like a deer in headlights, still upside down on the couch. “Debbie?” He said with faux-innocence as he squinted at her. “You’re… very tall right now. And also upside down? Wait, no, I’m upside down.” He dissolves into giggles again, ignorant to how his twin begins to sit up.
“No way, seriously Dexter? Ugh, fuck me!” Deb is scary when she’s angry, and Dex sits up when she stomps into the living room. She stands in the doorway with her hands planted on her hips, looking absolutely furious. “Did you guys eat all of my fucking pot brownies?”
Dexter’s jaw drops. “They were pot brownies?”
”Ugh!” Debra exclaims, storming angrily to her room and slamming the door behind her.
”Shit.” Dexter curses under his breath, but he doesn’t move.
“Little sister is pissed, brother.” Maisie is openly laughing at him, and he swats at her playfully. “Luckily, your twin is a stoner. I’ll fix this for you.”
She goes to her room and pulls out her pink lockbox, decorated with glittery pink charms and bloody vampire stickers, and opens it to find her highly stocked stash. This is the only medicine that has ever helped her. Harry doesn’t like doctors much, after Nurse Mary. She pulls out some pink pre-rolls she had made yesterday. She opens the cigarette box she reused to store them—black parts painted pink—there are six joints inside.
She knocks on Debra's door. “Little sister,” she calls out. It’s only a moment until she opens the door, clearly upset. Maisie holds out the box and flips open the top, dropping the six joints into her sister’s hands. “Sorry about Dexter, these aren’t the same but I hope they make up for it. At least you’ll still have fun with the team?” She offers apologetically.
Deb’s anger immediately melts away as she looks at the pink blunts, her eyes softening at her big sister’s apology. “Ugh, you’re impossible to stay mad at,” She said with a scoff that tried and failed to sound annoyed, putting the blunts back into the offered box. “Does Dexter even know he’s stoned?” She asks flatly, looking amused now.
Maisie laughs, shaking her head. “He knows now. He never did any of that stuff with me in college. But he definitely missed your note, we’re sorry. You know how Dex is always… hungry. Have fun tonight, Debbie.” She pulls her baby sister in for a hug, who is smiling despite herself.
“Yeah, I know he is. He’s a total moron sometimes.” She says with affection. “And you’re an enabler.”
Her big sister fake scoffs, much more comfortable being high than Dexter is. “I am not! He ate five of them before I got here, I only had two! And I didn’t see your note, sorry again sister.”
With Debbie content, Maisie goes right back to Dexter and flops onto his lap. The normally physically reserved man immediately pulls his twin sister closer as he sits properly on the couch.
“Thank you, twinnie.” Dexter plays with her hair again, ignoring her laugh. “Guess I owe you now.”
”Don’t call me that, Dexie.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. The bliss washes over her in waves, and she finds herself leaning in close and nuzzling into Dexter.
Dexter lets out a contented hum, his hand on her side lazily drifting up her back. “I’ll call you whatever I want, sister.” His words are sluggish, the high making him unusually cuddly and affectionate, his usual reserved demeanor dissolving like it never even existed in the first place. “You’re my girl.”
Maisie giggles, enjoying this side of Dexter immensely. He’s so vulnerable here, his usual walls broken down by the effects of the brownies. It’s adorable—and hot, if she’s being honest.
She props herself up a little higher on his lap, shifting her position to straddle him, her hands gently brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You mean it, Dexter?”
The moment his twin straddles him, Dexter’s hands instinctively move to her hips as if on autopilot. He’s not even aware of his own actions at this point, a hazy grin on his pretty face. His gaze zeroes in on her lips, his hand on her hip tracing patterns across her bare skin. His usual analytical, observant self is replaced by a more instinctual, almost animalistic part of him, fixated entirely on her. “I would never lie to you. You’re my other half.” Dexter replies, his voice eerily quiet. He doesn’t loosen his grip on her hips, his hands almost instinctively holding her tight against him.
He leans his head down over hers, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply, grounding himself in her scent. “It’s always been the two of us, yeah?” He muttered into her hair, his words half-muffled. He’s being unusually honest, the effects of the weed making him voice feelings he usually keeps reserved for midnight pillow talk.
“Yeah, Dex. Born in blood.” She sighs, curling into his chest and laying her head down on his shoulder. “You’re so warm, brother, this is nice.” She giggles, still riding her high. Dexter’s arms automatically wrap around his twin as she lays down on top of him, her smaller frame fitting perfectly against his chest. Feeling her curl up against him, their bodies practically intertwined, feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re like a cat,” Dexter giggles, his hand gently stroking along her spine. “All clingy and purring.” Maisie giggles and nods.
“Cats are my favorite animals. Nature’s little serial killers.” She laughs harder.
Dexter snorts at that, the sound morphing into a full-blown laugh as his fingers idly scratch at her scalp the way he knows puts her right to sleep. “Oh my god, you’re so right.” He dissolves into another fit of laughter. “Maybe I will let you get a cat once we move out.”
His sister lavishes under the attention, his soothing fingers running through her hair nearly making her melt. She can’t help her tiny moan at the bliss. “For now I’ll be your kitty any day, Dexter.”
Dexter can’t help the soft noise of approval he makes. Having her here, in his arms, feeling her practically purring against his chest… It's intoxicating. He moves his fingers to gently knead her shoulders. “Oh, I dunno, you might be too high maintenance.” He teases, his words half muffled by another laugh. “Clingy, whiny…” he gives her a light pinch. “Kinda bitchy too.”
Maisie lets out a sharp laugh into Dexter’s chest, muffled by his shirt. “Yeah, all true. I’d probably be a better girlfriend than a cat.”
Dexter hums at the idea. “Don’t tempt me, sister.”
As she cocks her head at him with that smile, Dexter’s brain just. Stops working. She’s so adorable, cute, perfect that he can barely form a coherent thought. He’s gripping her hips almost hard enough to bruise, just to give himself something to cling on to.
She lets out a soft breathy laugh at his reaction, her cheeks flushing under the intensity of his gaze. She’s still straddling him, still close enough to feel the way his breathing hitches when she shifts just slightly against him. “Tempt you?” She echoes with disbelief. Her fingers trail up from his chest to brush along the line of his jaw. “Careful, Dex—you keep talking like that and I might start thinking you want me.”
It takes every ounce of self-control he has left for Dexter not to shiver underneath her touch. The way her fingers brush against his jaw feels like an electric current straight down to his cock. He should say something witty. He should make some smart quip to knock her off balance for once.
Instead, what comes out is a soft, ragged sigh, his heart racing underneath his shirt. “What if I do,” he breathes. No more denial, no more pretense. She’s too close, her body feels too damn good pressed against him.
The girl’s fingers trail from his jaw to hover over his heart, feeling the quick beating beneath his ribcage. He’s serious. She looks back and forth between his intense green eyes, pupils blown wide, to his pouty lips, rendered silent by his twin sister’s beauty. She looks deeper, looking for the same feelings she’s been harbouring for him. The same forbidden desire that defines how she and Dex conduct themselves around everyone. Even each other. Even in private.
Those feelings she was looking for sparkle as he looks up at her like she hung the damn stars. Dexter’s heart stutters as her hand flattens against his chest. He swears he can feel it pounding hard enough to jump out of his skin and into her waiting hand, his blood pumping so fast it’s making him dizzy. Or is that the weed?
But his sweet sister only smiles, her free hand cradling his face so tenderly. “You’ve never been this open with me before.” She murmurs, in awe at the racing heart under her palm. “Are you afraid?” She asks curiously.
Terrified, is the immediate thought that springs to his hazy mind, but he clamps down on it before the word leaves his mouth. Instead, he swallows hard, his voice unusually hoarse as he shakes his head. “Not of you.” He says quietly, his hands clenching her hips involuntarily. “Never of you, sweetheart.”
With the brownie haze, the intensity of his emotions is unmistakable. His gaze is still fixed on hers, and now his thumbs start to stroke idle, soothing circles into her hip bones. He’s completely, painfully aware of every point of contact between them; her thighs around his, her hand on his chest, her breath against his skin. He holds her like a lifeline, his heart racing under her palm. He’s not even attempting to hide the fact that he’s painfully hard.
”Dexter,” she whispers, leaning down to press her forehead to his. “Do you want me as much as I want you?”
Dexter lets out a shuddering exhale, his grip bruising as Maisie presses their foreheads together. His pulse kicks up another notch under her palm, and there’s something raw in his expression—something unfiltered, for once.
”Yeah,” his voice cracks like he’s a fucking teenager again, but his voice is thick with sincerity. “Yeah, I really fucking do.”
It’s almost frightening how much he means it.