hiii gorg i would love to hear some of ur dex hcs!! not a minute has gone by where i havent been thinking of him as of late…
a/n: me too, honey. me too. that man is so fine, he has occupied my mind 24/7 :<< thank you so much for asking!! I have both soft and nsfw hcs but let’s start small for this one first, i’ve been waiting to post this one (specifically relationship hcs) so I think it’s time to clear out some of my drafts too ;> 💋💋
Dex is quite the most observant man you could ever meet in your life, you would think that’s just a requirement in his job but no. He feasts his eyes on you like a devotee gifted the rarest chance to remember your likeness and he takes every opportunity, every moment, his turbulent mind soaking up all the details. At first, it overwhelmed you, being the muse receiving his heavy gaze but it is not scrutiny, no. He observes you, not to critique but to intake and ingrain you in his head over and over and over again. He memorizes each expression and catalogs them in his brain, the way you scrunch your brows in confusion, how you sigh when you receive more work and how your smile forms when you see your favorite dessert. Even the smallest quirks you try to cover up and pretend like nobody caught, he retains in his mind. The more he learns of you, the closer he feels, (whether that is from remembering the smallest details you mention or from discreetly following you).
If you once mention that you find a certain scent addicting while trying out the samples at the make-up store, don’t be surprised when you find the same scent lingering on his clothes the next day. His system refuses to calm down as he awaits your reaction. The scenario already ran through in his mind two or three times. He acts like his heart didn’t skip a beat as he observes the way you pause and your shy realization. “You’re wearing the new release, aren’t you?” He leans closer a bit, elated that he caused the faint blush that tinted your cheeks. “Yes, do you like it?” He asks. After obtaining his confirmation, he purchases two more bottles of the same perfume.
If he sees the slightest winces of pain and annoyance as you roughly attempt to tame your hair, he will grab the brush from your hand and gently position you to sit in front of him, taking the duty of untangling the wet knots in your hair with such gentleness and reverence. You nearly laugh at how serious his expression looks, like a soldier given a significant mission of dismantling an explosive. He wishes to serve you, without voicing his longing, he wants to be of use to you, to prove that you need him and only him. Even the smallest domestic acts, he’ll insist on doing everything for you, it’s his mind screaming I can do this for you, don’t leave me, I’ll be really good please.
You would think that his vigilant behavior is simply a habit from his experiences, after all he is a former veteran and an fbi agent. Dex is rightfully over-protective of what’s his. You’re not a property to him, you’re the receiver of his veneration. You’re that burning desire he has to tame, the only good thing that makes his chest ache with want. Whether you’re choosing at the vegetable section of the grocery store, or crouching down to pet a stray cat at the park, he would glare at any man who dares to even direct their glance at you. Even the harmless smile from the barista at your regular cafe would make him alert. He is the dark shadow that trails after your light, yearning to be graced by you while simultaneously frightening others from getting close to you.
Dex is the kind of man who doesn’t want to appear needy or weak from every moment spent without your touch, as if his skin doesn’t itch from wanting to feel your warmth. He will wait until you’re sound asleep in his arms before he peppers your face with kisses. Dex inhales your scent like it is the oxygen sustaining him, it makes his body feel electric, like a drug that makes his mind clearer. When the buzzing in his head won’t stop, he’ll press his nose to the crown of your head and like a silent prayer, the storm in his mind calms. His senses recognizes you, your voice, your touch, and your scent as safety. You are his haven, he’s the only one who gets to have you like this and he’ll make sure of that. While you dream in his embrace, he presses his lips to the inside of your wrist, your palm and the tips of your delicate fingers. It’s his ritual, enjoying the softness of you from his lips like he’s reminding himself you’re real, you’re here, you’re his.
a/n: the concept that perfume is for women while cologne is for men is a common misconception. the difference is that perfume has the highest concentration of aromatic oils, is meant to last all-day, hence why it’s often more expensive. cologne, on the other hand, has a low oil concentration, it often fades after 2-3 hours, so it requires frequent reapplication. it was nice to search this up ^^
ever since wilson said he wants dex to have a partner who’s just as fucked up as he is, i’ve been thinking about what a situationship with dex would actually look like. no labels because both of you are too emotionally constipated to say what this even is. on the surface, it barely looks serious.
he acts cold and unreadable half the time. you act detached like nothing affects you. neither of you ask for reassurance because both of you are convinced needing people is embarrassing.
but underneath it all, both of you are spiraling constantly.
dex notices everything about you in terrifying detail. every strand of hair left on your curling iron. the way your perfume dry down changed because you switched body soap. the difference between your fake laugh and your real one. the exact tone your voice gets when you’re overwhelmed but pretending you’re fine.
he remembers your schedule without trying to. what days you usually get sad. what time you stop replying when you’re emotionally shutting down. what shows you put on when you can’t sleep.
he never says any of this out loud, though. he just stares at you for a second too long and quietly goes “you look nice.”. meanwhile internally he’s overthinking himself to death.
what if he sounds weird. what if he’s too intense. what if he gets attached and you leave. what if you realize something is wrong with him. what if.
so instead of being vulnerable, he pulls inward. asks about your day but never talks about his. listens carefully while revealing almost nothing because every sentence feels dangerous to him. aaaand, you’re not any better.
because you’re detached too until confusion gets involved, then suddenly your brain starts eating itself alive.
he takes too long to answer and now you’re convincing yourself he’s bored of you. he gets quiet after a bad day and you immediately assume he’s losing interest. he says “i’m tired” and you spend the next six hours trying to figure out if he secretly hates you now.
you want reassurance so badly but the thought of asking for it makes you feel physically ill. so instead, you mirror him.
he withdraws, you withdraw harder. he avoids vulnerability, you act even more unaffected. both of you are trying to protect yourselves while accidentally making each other spiral.
and the worst part is neither of you can fully walk away because when things are good, they feel almost disgustingly right. conversations flow too naturally. silence feels comfortable. both of you understand each other’s weirdness without needing explanations. he’ll sit beside you for hours without speaking and somehow it still feels intimate.
sometimes you catch him staring at you like he’s trying to memorize your existence. sometimes he catches you checking your phone every five minutes waiting for him to text first because you refuse to double text out of pride. neither of you say anything about it. the attachment gets unhealthy fast too, but in quiet ways.
he keeps things you accidentally leave behind. you reread old conversations when you’re spiraling. he notices every change in your routine. you notice every shift in his tone. he pretends not to care when other people flirt with you while internally becoming irrationally angry. you pretend you don’t need him while feeling sick every time he emotionally disappears for a few days.
and somehow every time it falls apart, both of you circle back to each other again because despite all the confusion and avoidance and emotional damage, being together feels like finally finding someone whose brain is ruined in the exact same way yours is.
