#james doakes

[boyd-stevens]

DEXTER 1.01 | "Pilot"

[tym3ly]

Just can't prove it yet...

[maycanady]

DEXTER (2006 - 2013) 1.10 "Seeing Red"

[wellwhataboutme]

[its-terf-or-nothin]

“Ladies, please let me grab you whenever I want, I’m feminine and I have anxiety!”

[cece693]

hihi !! have you ever watched dexter? if so would u be willing to write for dexter morgan? he has barely any male reader fics and its sad :(

CRACKS IN THE CODE

dexter morgan x male reader

authors note: No, I haven't watched Dexter, but I heard it was a good show. So, while skimming the Wiki I decided to stick the the most basic info to create this fic which was the code he follows while killing. I hope you enjoy it!

synopsis: Dexter doesn't fall in love. He observes, adapts, mimics. But you awaken something real in him. And it’s a problem. Because you belong to someone else. And Dexter never kills the innocent until now.

He noticed you first at Miami Metro, laughing too brightly with Debra. You had the kind of smile that could disarm even the most jaded detective. Even Dexter, though he didn’t realize it at the time.

You weren’t like the others. You didn’t flinch from blood reports or crime scene photos. You spoke softly, moved with intention, and always seemed to say exactly what you meant. You weren’t afraid of silence, either, and that intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

At first, Dexter told himself it was curiosity. That you were just interesting. Worth observing. That maybe your partner, Detective Connelly, was the real reason you kept orbiting his thoughts. Connelly was arrogant, hot-tempered, and dirty. Dexter had his eye on him anyway.

But then there were the quiet moments.

Your lunch breaks in the evidence room with a tupperware box and a book. The way you always offered him a piece of your sandwich, despite knowing he'd say no. The way you looked at him—not like most people did, with confusion or wariness—but like you saw him. Really saw him.

And Dexter hated that he liked it.

You never suspected what was going on behind those watchful eyes. Dexter was good at that. Masking. Hiding. But around you, something cracked. You once asked him, “Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?”

He shrugged and gave a rehearsed answer. “Not much to say.”

And you’d only nodded, saying, “Then I’ll just wait until you do.”

You never pushed. You never pried. You waited, and that terrified him more than any killer ever could.

The problem was James.

He saw the way James treated you. Possessive. Loud. Rough in ways Dexter didn’t like. You flinched sometimes when James gripped your wrist too tightly or leaned too close in crowded hallways. Nobody else seemed to notice but Dexter did.

And the more he noticed, the more the Dark Passenger whispered, He deserves it. But James didn’t meet the Code. Not until Dexter started following him at night, just to justify the desire humming under his skin.

That’s when he saw it. James taking bribes. Using excessive force. Threatening a civilian during an interrogation. It was enough. Barely. But Dexter didn’t need a perfect excuse.

Because this time it wasn’t about justice.

It was about you.

The Kill Room was quiet. Cold. Wrapped in plastic, the way Dexter always liked it.

James struggled. Screamed. Spat. “You fucking psycho, he’s mine! He’ll never—!”

Dexter tilted his head, calm as ever. “You hurt him.”

“What? You don’t even know him!”

Dexter’s voice dropped, as he held the knife, steady as steel. “I know enough.”

And for the first time in years, he didn’t feel hollow after the kill. He felt relieved.

You were silent when he found you the next day. News had covered James' disappearance and presumed death. Dexter sat beside you on the station steps. Neither of you said anything for a long while.

“I feel guilty for not being sadder.”

Dexter looked at you, carefully. “Why do you think that is?”

“Because I think part of me is free now.” You glanced at him. “Is that awful?”

“No, not awful at all.”

You blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. “You’re being weirdly comforting.”

“I can be comforting,” he murmured. “When I care enough to try.”

You stared at him. “Are you saying you care about me?”

“…Would it bother you if I did?”

You gave a sad laugh. “I think it would scare me how much I’d like that.”

Dexter didn’t smile, but something in his eyes shifted to become lighter. He brushed your hand with his fingertips, barely touching, and you didn’t pull away.

Later, when the two of you kissed for the first time, you whispered, “You’re strange.”

Dexter’s breath ghosted your neck. “I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you.”

“You mean like a crush?”

“No. Like something I need to have. No matter the cost.”

You didn’t understand what he meant. Not fully. Not then, but you would. And by the time you realized how far he went to make you his, you were already too far gone to care.

[laureala]

DEXTER RESURRECTION — 1.01

[mansedits]

POV: You start your second playthrough of Jedi: Survivor