Title: Darkly Dreaming Debster

Author: Sita Moonlight

Rating: M

Summary: A series of one-shots set during various Debster-centric situations in canon and AU universes.

A/N: Well, this is going to be a prompt fic. A little different from my previous stories. Each chapter will be a different one-shot set during different situations in Dexter or AU Dexter universeres. All stories will be Debster. I also will take prompt suggestions, so if you have any, let me know!

Debra Confesses her feelings for Dexter in therapy

Summary: Set after 6x12. In a world where Debra never went to the church to tell Dexter how she feels, she instead decides to bring him to therapy, intending to reveal her feelings in a controlled environment.

"I don't understand what I'm doing here."

Debra can hear the tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall, she can see her brother sitting next to her on the uncomfortable couch, can feel her heart about to beat out of her chest, beads of sweat collecting under the collar of her shirt as they roll down her back. And she can't help but wonder if this idea was a giant fucking mistake.

Realizing that she's in love with her own fucking brother is one thing, but telling him? Really telling him in a way he'd understand? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

She'd thought bringing him to Michelle Ross' office would calm her, after all, this puts them in a controlled environment with a neutral party who already knows about Debra's feelings for her brother. However, now they're here and she has convinced Dexter to join her in therapy, the words aren't coming any easier. Actually, no words are coming. She's on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

She notices Dr. Ross watching her and the woman clears her throat, leaning back in her chair, "Debra brought you here, Dexter, because she has something very important to tell you. Something which is very difficult for her to express. Isn't that right, Debra?"

Debra lets out a short hysterical laugh and leans over, elbows in her lap as she starts to pick at her nails, a nervous habit she'd developed as a teen and has never been able to let go of. She can feel Dexter's eyes on her, but she can't look at him. If she does she might puke.

"Deb, is everything okay?" She can hear the worry in his voice, and she imagines she makes quite the picture, half out of her mind, a ball of nervous energy next to him. Top it off with her, her of all people, being unable to speak, and he must think something is horribly wrong.

"Debra." Michelle says and Debra finds herself glancing up at her therapist. "You brought Dexter here for a reason today. Remember, we can't control his actions, but this is about you, not him."

"What is going on?" Dexter again, and Debra finally finds the nerve to sit up straight. Her heart is still pounding and she's a sweaty mess but she finally looks over at him. At the man she's known her whole life, her biggest supporter and best friend, and she knows she has to tell him. She's just terrified. What if he never speaks to her again? What if he thinks she's disgusting? What if he decides he no longer wants her in his life? The possibilities are endless.

"Dex, I…" She swallows and shoves a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I know you're not a big therapy guy, I didn't even realize I was a fucking therapy girl until recently." She lets out another nervous laugh. Dexter's eyes remain on her, but she can see him furrowing his brows as he watches her with concern. "I've just had some realizations in therapy. Some… stuff I didn't even fucking realize was there." She swallows and looks away, and back at her therapist who is observing them both with kind eyes. "Fuck, I don't know if I can do this." She tells Michelle, who gives her a small encouraging smile.

"Deep breaths, Debra. Remember, this is for you."

"Oh my fucking God," She groans, placing her head in her hands. There's no possible way she can look at him when she says this. She doesn't want to see the disgust in his eyes when the words escape her lips. "Dexter, I'm fucking - fuckshit - I'm in love with you."

It's so quiet in the room Debra feels like she'd be able to hear a pin drop. Dexter says nothing, and she still can't look at him. Instead she feels her tears starting as the humiliation starts to kick in. He probably wants to leave to never see her again - Oh God - what has she done?

"Dexter?" She hears her therapist ask. "Debra just told you something that has been weighing very heavily on her. How does that make you feel?"

Debra almost wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, of Michelle's calculated words. It feels insane.

And then, she feels Dexter turning toward her and she still can't look at him as his weight shifts on the couch cushions before he speaks, "You're in love…? What do you mean you're in love with me?"

"Oh my fucking God - I just fucking told you I -"

"Debra." Her therapist cuts off her defensive rant. "Dexter isn't attacking you, he just wants to understand."

She finally looks up from her hands, eyes focused on Dr. Ross as she lets her anger take over. It's easier to deal with than the embarrassment that's flooding her and the tears which are starting to sting the corner of her eyes. "Would you shut the fuck up?"

"Debra." Michelle says, warningly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't fucking mean that I just - fuck!" She finally turns to look at Dexter, hesitantly. He's watching her curiously. He hasn't left yet, which is a good sign, but he looks lost. "I mean," She finally tells him, and she feels a tear slip from her left eye and trail down her cheek. "You started to come up in these sessions a lot with Dr. Ross, and she pointed out that there might be more, and I know it's fucking crazy and it's weird and I'm your fucking sister, but I think… I think I just feel more for you. Like maybe none of my relationships have lasted, and I couldn't even fucking marry Quinn because none of those guys - Quinn - they all weren't you. And fuck, I've said too fucking much."

Dexter opens and closes his mouth a few times, and she waits for him to speak, but no words escape.

"Dexter?" Michelle finally asks. "Do you have anything to say to what Debra just told you?"

"I, uh, I think I have to go. I forgot Harrison - Jamie - she can't watch him late… and I… uh, we'll talk later, Deb." And then he's off the couch and unstoppable as he rushes out of her therapist's office and Debra's tears start to come hard and fast as she watches him go.

And fuck, she has made a huge mistake, hasn't she? Michelle looks at her kindly and reaches for a box of tissues, handing them to her, and she barely has time to grab them before she's sobbing, her heart breaking in two.

Has she ruined her relationship with him for good? Why does she always make such stupid mistakes?

They barely speak for the next week, aside from the communication required to do their jobs, and every day Debra regrets her stupid decison to tell him about her feelings. She cries herself to sleep most nights, certain she's destroyed her longest and most important relationship.

It's the following weekend when she's awakened before eight-thirty on Saturday morning to the sound of her door being opened. She blinks groggily as she starts to come to. She's on the couch, only in a long t-shirt and a pair of underwear with a half empty bottle of liquor laying by the side of the couch on the floor.

Right. She'd been depressed about Dexter so she'd decided to get shit faced and watch a sad movie. And now she's paying for it. She groans as she sits up, clutching her head, which is when she feels a presence standing over her, and she looks up to find Dexter next to the couch, two coffee's and a paper bag that she assumes contains bagels clutched in his hands.

She blinks up at him, trying to figure out what he's doing at her place when he speaks, "Looks like you had a rough night." He hands her a coffee and even as she's already sipping at the refreshingly hot liquid she narrows her eyes at him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too." He responds, walking around the couch and dropping into the seat next to her.

"I didn't say sit down, I said what the fuck are you doing here?" She can't help herself. Being annoyed with him is easier than dealing with the emotions that are swirling underneath. Rejection, heartbreak, anguish. Yes, anger is much easier to deal with.

"I brought you breakfast." He mumbles and Debra looks over at him, his coffee clutched in one hand and the bag of bagels in the other. "Everything bagels. Your favorite."

"So what the fuck is this?" She snatches the bag out of his hand and opens it, pulling out a wrapped bagel, already smothered in cream cheese. She sets the bag next to him and unwraps her bagel. "Your half-assed attempt at an apology for ignoring me for a fucking week?"

"I wasn't ignoring you." She snorts at his words, taking a bite out of the bagel and looking away from him. "I wasn't, Deb. I was just trying to process everything. It's not everyday your sister tells you she's in love with you."

She pauses halfway through chewing her bite of the bagel to shoot him another glare, "Get the fuck out."

"Deb, relax. Maybe that didn't come out right. I'm not making fun of you. I'm not even judging you. We've been through a lot together. In a way it makes sense."

She feels her cheeks heating up at his words and she looks away, unable to meet his gaze. God, she can't stand this. She can't fucking stand it. She knew he wouldn't feel the same way she does, she knew. And yet, here she is, unable to face the consequences of telling him how she feels. How the fuck will they ever move past this? Will they be able to?

"Yeah, sure." She sets the bagel aside, suddenly no longer hungry. "It makes all lthe fucking sense in the world. Sisters fall in love with their brothers all the fucking time."

He lets out a small surprised laugh at her words, "That's not what I'm saying. I didn't say it was normal, I said it makes sense."

Finally she looks at him, despite her heated cheeks and ashamed eyes. He's looking at her like he normally does. She doesn't see disgust on his face. She doesn't even see hate. She just sees him like she always does, his hazel eyes and stubbly jaw and stupidly handsome face. And she loves him. She really fucking loves him. And it hurts knowing he'll never feel the same way. That she's forever doomed to have fallen for the one man she'll never be able to have.

"How, Dexter? How the fuck does it make any sense?" She feels tears forming in her eyes and she bites her lip, blinking as she tries to force them back. "It doesn't make any sense to me, so how the motherfuck can it make sense to you?"

"We've been through everything together, Deb. And it's just been me and you. We've only had each other for a long time now. So, it makes sense. And it's okay."

"You're just saying that so I don't feel like a piece of shit." She mumbles.

"Is it working?" He teases and she finds herself smiling a little despite her tears.

"Shut the fuck up, asshat."

He places his arm around her shoulders and pulls her against his side in an affectionate half hug. It's something he's done hundreds of times but this time it's different to Debra. She feels him warm against her, his body, how close he is - and fuck, will anything ever go back to normal? Or will she be on high alert around him for the rest of her life? Will these feelings consume her until there's nothing left?

"So we're okay?" He asks and she shrugs.

"I guess." She mumbles.

He moves his arm from around her and reaches for the bag of bagels, pulling his own out of the bag. He starts to unwrap it, taking a bite as his eyes meet hers. "Eat, Deb." He tells her and she rolls her eyes, picking up the bagel she'd set aside moments prior.

"Yes, mom."

She takes a bite out of her bagel and they eat in silence for several minutes. It's comfortable, and Debra has the thought that maybe everything will be okay. But then his arm brushes against hers and electricity shoots up her limb and she jumps, and once again she realizes she's hopelessly in love with him. And how the fuck will everything ever be okay?

She's destined to live out her days knowing she's in love with her fucking brother, and he's destined to try to ignore it or try to make it better, and nothing will ever make it better.

"Fuck!" She curses, throwing her bagel down and getting up. She almost steps on the half empty bottle of liquor still sitting by the couch, and she kicks it in frustration.

"Deb?" Dexter asks, just as she starts pacing in front of the couch.

She imagines she looks like a mess. She hasn't had a chance to brush her hair or teeth and she's still in her oversized night shirt. And here Dexter sits before her, polished like always in his fucking stupid khaki pants and button down shirt and ugly fucking loafers and she can't take it anymore.

She's always been an impulsive person. It's one of her faults. And without thinking she finds herself making a sudden turn and climbing into his lap. He's so shocked, the bagel he's holding drops out of his hand and tumbles onto the floor.

"Deb, what are you - what are you doing?" He asks, surprised, and he doesn't know where to put his hands so they kind of flap around uselessly, and if she weren't in his lap and about to possibly make a bigger mess of her fucking life, she'd laugh at how ridiculous he looks.

"I don't fucking know." She responds, shaking her head. "And I know this is fucking crazy and wrong and we grew up as fucking siblings, but I can't stop fucking thinking about you, Dex. I - fuck it." And then she's making another impulsive decision and pulling her t-shirt over her head, exposing herself to him.

She's still in her panties, but she wears no bra, and Dexter's eyes move to her breasts in shock. She sees him visibly swallow, and he shifts uncomfortably under her. She reaches for one of his hands, and grabs it, placing it on her right breast. To her utter surprise, Dexter doesn't move his hand. He doesn't caress her, but still holds it still, his wide eyes meeting hers.

"Deb…" Her name escapes his lips as a whisper.

"I love you, Dexter. Really fucking love you. And maybe I'm fucking insane for telling you - for fucking doing this but I can't -"

"Deb," He cuts her off, and his hand still rests on her breast, but there's a sadness in his eyes and he looks conflicted and lost, and she almost moves off his lap, thinking she's really gone too far this time when he speaks again. "I'm the most fucked up person you know. More than you know. You don't know what you're asking for."

"What the fuck are you talking about? If anyone is more fucked up here it's me. I'm the one confessing to being in love with my own fucking brother and then forcing myself - fuck, I'm forcing myself on you. I didn't mean -" And she moves to get up but his hand that was resting on her breast moves to her waist, holding her still.

"You're beautiful, Deb. And you're the closest person to me in the world. And no, I've never thought about crossing this line with you." He lets out a deep sigh. "But not because I'm not… " He shakes his head as if changing his mind about what he was going to say. "I've never thought about you this way because I'm not supposed to think about my sister in this way. And if we were to cross this line… I don't want to ruin you, us."

"You mean you'd be willing to fuck me?" She asks, confused by his convoluted words and incomplete thoughts.

He lets out a groan and closes his eyes momentarily before they open once more, "I don't know what the fuck I'm saying, Debra."

"What if we tried it?" She asks him.

"What if we can't go back?" He asks her.

"What if we don't fucking want to?" She shoots back.

He sighs and motions toward where her discarded shirt lays, "Deb, put your shirt back on."

"Why?"

"Just do it." She bites her lip but leans over for her shirt and slips it back over her head, never leaving his lap. His hands move to allow her to put it on and then he hesitantly reaches out again and places both hands on her hips this time. "I don't want to hurt you, Deb."

"Dex, I'm a big fucking girl -"

"But you love me so much. More than I deserve. And you're beautiful, smart, and funny. You're the best person I know. Why, out of all people, would you want this with me?" He asks.

"Because Dex, you're all I've fucking had my whole fucking life. And somewhere along the way these feelings for you, these strong ass feelings, turned into something more. And I think I've been in love with you for a really long fucking time. We've been through so much together and you've always been there for me." She blinks, feeling her eyes tear up as she gets honest with him, really honest.

"But I haven't been there for you." He says softly. "Not in the way you deserve."

"What the fuck are you talking about? You've always been there." She protests.

"Do you really see it that way?" He asks softly.

"Of course I fucking do."

He exhales softly and slowly moves his hands from her hips, starting to stroke her back, "If I give you what you want, and it's not right for either one of us, will we be able to go back? Because I need you in my life, Deb. I need you."

His words and the way he emphasizes need does something to her. She feels the word low in her belly and a surge of wetness pools between her legs. She never in a million years thought that Dexter would actually consider her feelings in this way. In the back of her mind, she wonders if he's only contemplating trying this for her.

At the same time, what person does something they don't want - especially something like this? Some part of him must want her to consider this in the first place.

"I need you, too." She finds herself saying and Dexter moves one hand up her back and places it on the back of her head, gently stroking her hair.

"This is crazy, Deb."

"Are you going to fucking kiss me or are you just going to keep talking about how crazy this is?"

He lets out a shaky breath and then he presses his lips to hers. It's tentative at first, gentle, but Debra wants this so badly, wants him, that she finds her hands wrapping around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. Her mouth opens and she pushes her tongue past his lips.

He lets out a small surprised gasp, but lets her take the lead. She kisses him with the want, the aching need that's been inside of her since she discovered her feelings for him. And then suddenly he's meeting her, responding with the same passion and vigor, and she feels like she's on fire with need.

She feels the moment he starts to become aroused and she lets out a moan into his mouth when she feels his khaki covered member harden against her thigh. And then he's grabbing her, flipping her so her back lands on the couch as he hovers over her, his lips never leaving hers.

He presses himself against her as he starts to grind himself against her panties covered core and the only thing she can think about is having him inside of her. She reaches for the button of his pants and he pauses, tearing his lips from hers.

"We shouldn't do this." He says, although his body betrays his words as he continues to rock against her.

"Shut the fuck up, Dexter. Stop thinking for once in your fucking life."

"Okay." He whispers. And then he's helping her unbutton his shirt before he tosses it aside. He's all muscle, and she's seen him shirtless thousands of times, but this is different. They're different. And he's gorgeous.

He sits up so he can tear her shirt over her head, and it lands next to his on the floor. She has the momentary thought that he shouldn't have asked her to put it back on in the first place. Her hands move to his pants again, and he watches as she pops open the button and then drags the zipper down.

He stands up and pushes his pants down, kicking his shoes and socks off before letting his pants join their clothes on the floor. All he's wearing is his boxer briefs and he grabs her hand.

"Come on, let's go to the bedroom." He suggests.

She laces her fingers through his, following him to her bedroom. She doesn't get on the bed immediately, and instead turns around to face him. They stare at each other for a moment, and she imagines he's just as overwhelmed as her. They really are about to venture into uncharted territory, and she hopes to God they won't drown.

And with her fingers moving to the waistband of her panties, she slowly pushes them down. She kicks them aside and watches as Dexter's eyes sweep over her body, now fully nude and exposed to him. He swallows, and then pushes his boxer briefs down, letting the clothing pool around his feet before he steps out of them.

Her eyes immediately move to his cock, hard and aching and a lot bigger than she'd expected.

"Wow." The word escapes her lips before she can filter what comes out of her mouth.

"What?" He lets out a short laugh, slightly uncomfortable.

"I just didn't expect…" She gestures towards him. "You have a really big cock, Dexter."

His laugh is a surprised one and he shakes his head, "Get on the bed, Deb."

She eagerly complies, laying down on her crumpled sheets. She never takes the time to make her bed, and her clothes from yesterday lay on the side of it. She pushes them off as she lays her head on the pillow.

Dexter watches her for a moment and then he slowly, hesitantly, climbs onto the bed and over her. He's looking down at her and she can feel his hard cock brush against her as he holds himself still.

"I can't believe we're about to do this." He says quietly.

"I told you to stop fucking thinking." She whispers, and then she grabs his head and pulls his lips to hers. He sighs into the kiss, and she deepens it, spreading her legs and letting him settle between them.

He's gentle with her and he slowly runs his hands up and down her sides before he breaks the kiss, looking into her eyes, "You know I love you, right? And no matter what happens -"

"Dex, we're about to have sex. We're not fucking dying." She cuts him off, and he shakes his head.

"Deb, I'm serious. Stop acting like this isn't a big deal, because it is."

She looks up at him and nods, "I know, Dex. I fucking know. I love you, too. Really fucking love you." She reaches up to comb her fingers through his hair and he leans down once more, kissing her softly this time.

They keep it gentle for a few minutes, but soon she can't take it, and she's deepening the kiss, her fingers trailing from his hair to his back as she pulls him closer to her. She can feel his cock at her entrance, brushing against her as they kiss, and it's driving her insane.

Her hand snakes between their bodies and she grabs his member. He lets out a surprised whimper against her lips and breaks the kiss. They stare into each other's eyes as she slowly starts to stroke him. His mouth opens slightly and his eyes glaze over in pleasure, and she's never seen something so beautiful.

"I want to feel you inside of me." She tells him and he lets out a shaky breath, grabbing her hand to still it.

"Okay." He whispers, and he positions himself at her entrance, one hand on his cock, the other next to her as he slowly starts to push inside.

She gasps at the intrusion. It's one thing to fantasize about, to desire, to have fucking dreams about, to imagine it while she gets herself off, but to actually experience it. It feels surreal.

Soon he's completely sheathed in her wetness and his hand moves from between them, settling on the other side of her. She looks up at him as he holds himself still. And after a moment she can't stand it. She bends her legs, placing both feet on the bed. Her hands encircle his waist and she pulls herself toward him, arching her hips so she can take him deeper.

He lets out a deep groan, a noise unlike anything she's ever heard from him, and he drops down closer to her, bending his arms and burying his face in her neck as he starts to rock his body. He feels amazing and perfect and he hits her in all the right places and Debra finds herself wondering why they haven't done this before.

He turns his head and finds her lips, a messy kiss as they both start to experience the pleasure more intensely. Every time he pulls out and pushes himself back inside of her, she feels it like a lightning bolt. He rocks his body faster, but at the same, he's still gentle with her.

And she can't help but feel loved. She remembers once upon a time thinking Brian, Dexter's brother, was making love to her. But it doesn't compare to this. None of her past experiences with sex compares to this, because this is what she's been waiting for all along.

Tears spring to her eyes and she tangles her fingers in his hair as he moves. And she finally feels like she fits with someone. This is what she's been looking for, waiting for. It's always been Dexter.

She sniffles and a few tears escape. He pulls his lips from hers and stills body, looking at her in concern, "Are you okay?"

"Don't fucking stop." She pleads and he obliges. His hands move to her hips and he flips them so she's on top. She keeps her body against his, chest glued to his, letting him fuck her from underneath.

Little moans and whimpers are escaping her mouth of their own accord, and each time he thrusts he brings her closer and closer to the edge. She usually needs more stimulation to come, but before she knows what's happening, she's quivering and shaking and her nails are digging into his sides as she screams his name, tumbling over the edge.

He flips them once more, and his mouth moves to the spot between her neck and shoulder. "Deb, Deb, Deb." He chants like a mantra as he gets closer to his own orgasm. She feels him starting to pull out but she holds him still, fingernails digging into his back.

"Come inside of me." She tells him and he lets out a moan, seemingly unable to hold back as she feels his cock start to pulse inside, his own pleasure taking over.

She can feel his heart pounding against her chest as he starts to come down from his orgasm and he slowly pulls out, rolling onto his back as he lays next to her.

It's quiet as they both recover, and Debra can feel a stickiness between her legs, evidence of what has just occurred. And she almost can't wrap her mind around the fact that she's just had sex with Dexter.

"So." He says, breaking the silence and she turns her head to look at him. At the awkward look on his face, at how unsure he looks and she lets out a laugh, rolling onto her side and wrapping her arm around his sweaty chest.

"You're awkward as fuck." She tells him.

"Thanks." He says, and she tilts her head up so she can have a better view of his face. "So, was it worth it?" He asks.

"I think it was. Don't you?" She asks him.

"I mean, it was great." He comments. "I just really don't want to hurt you, Deb."

"Why the fuck do you keep saying that? Can't we just see where the fuck this goes?" She whispers.

He rolls onto his side so they're face to face and he gently combs his fingers through her hair, "What if I told you there are things about me you don't know? Things you might not like if you ever found them out?"

"Dex, stop being fucking ridiculous."

"Okay." He says quietly. "Okay." And he pulls her even closer, and she tucks her head under his chin, holding on.

Still, something settles in her chest, an uneasiness. This is what she wants. And it seems, even if unaware until now, some part of Dexter wants this too. But what if he is hiding something from her? His words spin around her head as his breathing evens out and he drifts to sleep.

And there's so much that's unknown about their future. Was this a one time thing? Will they really try this out; try them out? And what exactly is Dexter talking about? Is he being ridiculous or is there something he really hasn't been telling her?

Despite all this, the worries and the unsurity, she feels loved, and protected, and safe. He makes her feel safe.

This is her last thought as she drifts to sleep, unaware of the deep dark secret that Dexter keeps hidden from her, peeking out from his darkness, and ready to rear its ugly head at any given moment.

A/N: Reviews feed the soul. Please let me know if you're liking these one shots. I have a few planned already, but I'll also take prompt suggestions if you have any, so please let me know if there's any short stories you're desiring to see!