Dexter was observant. He watches you, and quite closely at that. you're his girlfriend, almost 3 years in this coming March. He knows you, like his own brain. he knows your ticks, your tells, when you're lying, and when you're needy.
You're being a brat, have been all day. snapping off at Deb, closing the elevator on Batista, and blatantly ignoring Dex. he doesn't know what happened, he left for work this morning, with you, and everything seemed fine. Your behavior was causing unnecessary tension in the department, and it was throwing him off his game. he needed to fix it, fast. He can't have his angel baby upset, not now, not ever.
he calls out for you, peeking his head out from his office, just as you're about to say something that could cause a suspension. you turn around, head snapping with so much force he wonders if you might have whiplash. Dexter walks over to you, beckoning you to his office. you roll your eyes, annoyed at his attempt to calm you down.
you turn away, trying to move from him, but he doesn't let you. Dexter grabs your hand, turning you to face him, tits pressed tight to his chest. "My office, now. don't argue, don't fight, and don't whine." your mouth gapes open, nodding dumbly, head down as you follow him. you walk into his office first, pretending to look at the supplies to seem nonchalant, but failing as you jump from the click of the lock.
You turn, trying to explain yourself, to delay the inevitable. But Dexter only shushes you. you can see the way his eyes darken slightly, the way his lips press into a grim line as he looks you over, following you as you back up against a wall. the blinds are closed, you realize as you look over, trying to avoid his gaze, you're fucked.
"you're upset." you scoff, avoiding his eyes as they glare at you. "clearly. good job noticing the obvious." your sentence is meant to come out as a hiss, but it sounds more like a timid whisper. Dexter chuckles at you, a dark one full of mirth and irritation. it startles you a bit, watching as he smiles again. he moves, head tilting down as he forces you to look at him, hand squeezing your face so tight it brings you to tears.
"oh don't fucking cry now. You wanted this, you're an uptight, spoiled, bratty fucking princess who cant function if she doesn't get some dick in her within 12 hours." you're embarrassed, not just because everything he's saying is true, but because you're getting so fucking wet from how mean he's being to you.
Dexter kneels, forcing your legs apart as you squeal, right leg lifted onto his shoulder. he takes a sniff at your panties, watching how the wet spot on your panties stick to your lips. he kisses them, through the underwear, before licking a broad strip from your hole to your clit. he slips his tongue to your hole, letting it go in you as deep as the cloth will allow, then flicking his tongue in a rhythm that feels so good accompanied by the friction of your panties.
it 's overwhelming, burning pleasure shooting through every part of your body as your head tilts back against the wall, biting your tongue so he doesn't stop. He continues this, making out with your covered hole and bud of nerves, soaking the cloth and making you whimper and whine.
it's enough to feel so, so fucking good, but not enough to make you cum. he pulls back, letting your leg fall back down, your chest heaving as you almost slide down the wall. Dexter doesn't let you fall, catching you as you start to slip. he pulls you towards him, guiding you onto his desk as he slips his hand under the waistband of your underwear.
he rubs your clit, kissing from your ear to you collarbones, sucking a collection hickies that burn purple and red, before biting down so harshly that you're sure it'll bruise even more. Dexter's a sadist, this sadistic display of power and pleasure, is foreplay to him.
eventually, he gives you a break, kissing your lips before speaking again. "lift your hips." you hesitate, looking at him in confusion, "come on, be good for me angel. know you're smart to figure out what i'm gonna do." you oblige, following his direction as he pulls your underwear down. He wraps them up, twisting them into handcuffs as he forces your arms behind you, tying them with your arousal and spit soaked underwear.
he maneuvers you using your arms, so that you turned towards him now. Dexter flick your skirt up, kissing a cheek before harshly slapping it. He doesn't let up though, repeatedly hitting you, sometimes with so much force that you wonder if he's punching your ass just to fuck with you and your dirty moans.
he stalls for a second, and you wonder if you're done, before yo hear his belt buckle unlatch, and his tip, come into contact with your lips. he doesn't slip it in, no no no, this isn't a reward. and you both know that. it's a punishment.
he fucks your slit, rubbing his cock between your lips and letting his tip twitch against your clit. you squeal and whine at every movement he makes, not once daring to fight him. he forces your back down, making you arch against his desk table as he gets close. you're so close too, but he cums before you. it's groans and sighs from him, as you feel the warm sticky liquid drip onto your cunt.
Dexter lifts you up, kissing your forehead and wiping the tears and sweat from your face as he undoes the makeshift cuffs. he puts them back on you, rubbing your cunt so that the underwear stick to you and the cum.
Dexter sits you on his lap, letting your tremors die down as you rest your head in his neck, content. he feeds you a cookie, watching as you take every bite with a smile. you refuse a drink, but promise to drink soon. He knows you will, he watches you 24/7. He kisses you once more before patting your ass and letting you leave, before you open the door, on shaky legs, he calls out. "be a good girl, i'll take care of you later."
Dexter who manhandles his girl like it's second nature. Imagine a water pitcher falls and shatters into a million pieces in the kitchen? Dex would be there in a heartbeat, and without even thinking about it, he'd step over the glass with one foot and grab his girl with one arm, lifting her to safety and he cleans up the mess for her.
And what if Debra was there and witnessed the whole thing, she'll look at her brother and say, with a smirk, "You know she has legs right?"
Dexter would sigh and keep cleaning up while his sister snickers at him.
And what if Dexter likes to manhandle her around? Sometimes certain social settings exhaust him, and his social battery runs out and he wants to leave. She always agrees to going back home, and then what if they're leaving a club and there's quite a bit of stairs, his girl has heels on, ridiculously high, and is taking it slow.
Dexter is feeling a little impatient, and the noise and the drunk people are certainly not helping much, his head hurts, so he sticks an arm under her shoulders, and one under the crook of knees and lifts her. She yelps in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck as Dexter hurries them down the stairs and to his car.
His strength comes to an advantage then, outside of his bloody night time activities. He's glad she doesn't mind his hands on her, or the display of strength whenever he runs out of patience or does something just because he thinks it's convenient or faster.
She's always smiling at him, all sweet and pliable. Dexter's glad of that, because he knows some women may not particularly enjoy being moved around like some doll like his girlfriend does.
So when he moves her around with no shame, inside and outside the house, she always tries to give him a little kiss, sweet and lipgloss sticky to his cheek.
Hii! If you’ve watched Dexter, can I request Brian Moser x male reader, who is too sweet? Like, the reader is constantly kissing and hugging him, looking at him with such tenderness, stroking his knuckles and gently ruffles his hair, even when they shower together the reader gently kisses his bare skin. I could go on forever, but I hope you get what I mean (and how he would react if the reader stayed just as sweet even after finding out who he really is) Thank you in advance, I love your writings so much ^^
TOO SWEET
Brian Moser x Male Reader
You’d known Dexter for years. Not best friends, but close enough. He was someone who understood silence, who never pushed when you didn’t feel like talking, who showed up when you needed him. And through him you met Brian. Just another face at first, someone who seemed charming enough, quick with jokes, sharp in the way that made you pay attention.
You didn’t realize, of course, that the only reason he’d gotten close was because of Dexter. At first, you were a convenient way to dig deeper into his long lost little brother’s life.
A pawn. A mask.
But then you smiled at him.
You kissed his cheek when you said hello. You brushed your fingers across his knuckles when you laughed at one of his darker jokes. You tucked yourself into his side on the couch without hesitation, looking at him with that warm, tender gaze that no one had ever turned on him before.
And Brian realized, horrified and fascinated, that the longer he spent with you, the less you felt like a pawn and more like an anchor.
He told himself it was just lust. That it was easy to enjoy the way you kissed him like he was fragile, like he wasn’t dangerous at all. That it was nothing when you absentmindedly played with his hair while talking about your day or kissed his shoulder while he brushed his teeth. But then he caught himself thinking about you when he was setting up his plastic wrap. About the way you hummed under your breath when cooking dinner. About how you sometimes pulled him into your arms without a word, just letting him rest his head against your chest.
It was dangerous. Love was dangerous. And yet, he couldn’t stop coming back for more.
So when you eventually found out the truth, he was prepared for it to be the end. You weren’t meant to come over. You weren’t meant to see the tarp, the tools, the way his eyes lit up with a sharp, cold hunger. You froze in the doorway, the reality of who he was snapping into place.
He expected you to scream. To run.
But instead, you stepped forward, calm as anything, and said softly, “Brian…”
His hand holding a knife twitched. He could end it right here. End the softness before it became a weakness. Instead, you reached for him. You cupped his bloodied hand in yours, kissed the knuckles like you always did, even though the skin was still wet with someone else’s life.
He stared at you in disbelief. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
You smiled faintly, brushing your thumb over his jaw. “Because you’re still the man who holds me at night. You’re still the man who kisses me like I’m the only thing in the world.”
From that moment on, something shifted.
He wasn’t gentle by nature but he found himself becoming softer with you. Holding you longer after sex. Letting his guard down in ways he never had before. He’d watch you in the shower, how you pressed kisses across his chest and shoulders, how you whispered sweet things against his skin like he deserved them.
Sometimes it made him angry. He’d snap, grab your chin roughly, demand, “Why do you look at me like that? Why the hell aren’t you running?”
And you’d always answer the same: “Because I love you, and I think a part of you loves me, too.”
He hated that it was the truth.
Your sweetness burned through him like a slow poison, leaving him addicted. And though he’d never admit it out loud, he knew. If anyone ever tried to take you from him, he’d paint the world red before letting that happen.
Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}
WC: 2889
Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes
Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)
『••✎••』
You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.
He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.
But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.
But maybe he was.
Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.
The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.
But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…
Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest getting warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita, but then, that relationship was different too.
It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.
It was terrifying.
Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.
He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.
It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.
You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.
Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.
He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.
It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.
Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.
You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.
It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?
But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was intelligence if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t
That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.
You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.
Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.
And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.
She deserved better.
The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.
And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.
He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.
His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.
Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.
It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.
It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.
And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.
You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bored into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.
But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.
You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.
It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.
It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.
Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?
But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.
So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.
It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.
Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.
The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.
Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.
Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?
Maybe he was.
You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.
The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.
You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.
He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.
“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."
He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.
His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.
At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.
The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?
You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.
And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.
The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.
But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.
It was exhilarating.
Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.
The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.
He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.
And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.
He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.
Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.
Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.
But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.
Something he couldn’t understand.
"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.
"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.
"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.
"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.
"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.
"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."
You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”
He snorted.
Bold.
If you only knew.
"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.
You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.
And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.
Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.
A fresh start.
A new beginning.
A new moon.
Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.
okay but like?? why are there STILL so few dexter x doakes fics??? hello?? the franchise literally just got resurreccted (pun intendet), there’s new content and yet y’all are STILL sleeping on the best dynamic in the whole damn first series.
DOAKES??? he literally has the most compelling arc with dexter, he sees through his mask, he calls him out and the potential??? rivals to reluctant allies, slow-burn tension, forced proximity (work partners?? canon??), mutual obsession??? the banter?? THE CHEMISTRY??
i’m so tired of scrolling through the tag on ao3 and just seeing so little of them (I read everything, for the love of god i want more) where is the content?? where are the fix-its?? where are the post-season-2 AUs where they actually talk instead of everything going to hell?? where’s the fic where they actually work together, bond, share coffee, maybe kiss a little (a lot)????
like sorry but y’all are depriving me. dexter x doakes has everything:
tension
mutual respect hidden under layers of insults
enemies-to-something-more
potential redemption arc???
scary man + scary man but they secretly care
I know there are more people that actually enjoy thta ship, i just need to find them
