#dexter showtime x reader

[nestingdoves]

Hi! Call me Nessie. (they/them/fae/faem)

I'm a legal adult writing ~ darkfic ~ a la, incest (siblings) and questionable material (noncon, dubcon, somno, age gap, monsterlovers).

I don't do any kind of parent x child. (Bookerbeth, you are my only exception.)

Good vibes only here, friends. I have the block button handy.

Content I post: Dexter, Attack on Titan and eventually for Mouthwashing and Five Nights at Freddy's.

Masterlist Below ♥

Attack on Titan

brother armin coming to terms that he loves his sibling a little too much

Dexter Showtime

dexter and reader get adopted. that doesn't fix or change anything. (jealous af reader.)

Mouthwashing

a dare leads you to kiss your twin daisuke and it devolves into something more (wip hehe)

[dexteri0us]

i think i'm 'bout to explode, i can taste the tension like a cloud of smoke in the air

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: hints of fluff, smut - unprotected sex, slight spanking (hand and belt), oral (f receiving), fingering, spitting, slight choking, biting, dom!dexter, blood (i mean, obviously, he's a freak); sassy dexter

summary: requested: "...morning sex with dexter before he goes to work..."

w/c: around 5k

a/n: your wish is my command. thanks for requesting! :)

You and Dexter were perfect for each other – or close enough. You loved his bluntness, his dry sense of humor (which wasn’t always humor) and his demons, whatever they were. You had your suspicions, but you had yet to muster the nerve to ask him directly about them. It was so frustrating, because you prided yourself on opening controversial or inappropriate topics. You kept telling yourself that you were just afraid of losing the tension between the two of you once you’d call him out on his nocturnal disappearances.  

Some nights, he’d come home at an ungodly hour, collapsing into the bed beside you like gravity finally caught up with him. Occasionally, you’d wake to his stubble brushing your cheek as he laid kisses along your face. More often than not, you were too tired to make something out of it, and usually, you also assumed he’d just gotten off on something else, because he would sigh and nuzzle into you like he was still riding en endorphin rush.

You rarely engaged in a sex in the middle of the night, unless he demanded it. Once, you told him he could do whatever he wanted with you. Yours and Dexter’s sex life had its own intricate taxonomy:  I am objectifying you right in this moment and want your body sex or my hormones are acting up sex. The list was long, really, but at the very top was something went wrong sex. That was your favorite, but too bad for you, because it wasn’t very often that you got to experience it. Dexter is very careful and focused most of the time. He doesn’t make mistakes. The bright side of that: you’d never ever get tired of it. Those nights felt like Christmas. No. Better than Christmas.

One evening, he came home earlier than usual (you weren’t even asleep yet). He was so angry. So frustrated. And you wanted to help. You set aside the book you were reading (it was about a woman who fell in love with a sociopath. safe to say, it was an intriguing read) when he stormed into the room. You crawled to the foot of the bed, watching his sharp movements with wide eyes as he took off his army green shirt.

You’d always imagined yourself grinding on him while he wore his uniform. And that time was no different. But that night wasn’t about you. It was about him. Well, partly.

“Can I help?”

“No.” his tone was clipped as he continued to move frantically around the room.

You weren’t sure if you should push his buttons. Your heart beat out of your chest from the nerves. Part of you thought maybe you should back off; the other part – it thrived on the uncertainty, the thrill of not knowing how far you could push before he snapped.

“I could make you something to eat…”

Horse shit. You couldn’t cook to save your life, and he knew that. But he just scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a humorless smirk.  

“How about a bath? I could light those lavender candles and throw in one of my bath bombs.”

“I said no.”  

You were still kneeling on the bed, dressed in your checkered shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. Trying to act as innocently as possible.

“Do you want–”

He finally charged toward you, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Do I need to spell it out?”

Finally. Bait taken.

You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, slowly rising to your knees. The top of your head barely reached his chin, forcing you to tilt your neck to meet his gaze.

You started placing kisses along his collarbone, trailing up over his shoulder and to his neck. Your hand rested on his chest, palm splayed over his heart.

“Any chance I can sub in for one of them tonight?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin.

His brows furrowed and then shot up. “Them?”

You felt the sudden quickening of his pulse beneath your hand. You nibbled on your lower lip as you nodded.

“Who’s them?”

Instead of answering, you tanhled your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. It was a reassurance, a promise that you’d always be there. Okay, maybe you did it because you didn’t want him to leave you. You didn’t want to activate a chain reaction.

He leaned into you, his hands sliding to your waist, holding you. When your lips parted, your forehead rested against his.

“You tell me, Dexter. Or don’t. I don’t care. But I want you to be happy. Do whatever you need to me if that’s what it takes.”  

Pathetic? Most definitely. But who cares? He secretly loved it when you got like this – whiny, needy, entirely his.

His hand cupped your right cheek, his thumb brushing a faint vertical line against your skin, the nail scratching just enough to leave a fleeting mark. But his gaze darkened again, pupils dilating, like he was replaying unhappy memories.

He kissed you then – hard and insistent. His hand circled your neck, his thumb pressing just underneath your ear, while the rest of his fingers gripped the other side, his pointer brushing against your earlobe. Your hand instinctively shot up, clutching his forearm as if steadying yourself for what was coming.

Long story short, he fucked you that night, like never before. And since then, you’d been relying on your own version of Thorndike’s Law of Effect: if you wanted to ignite that fire in him, to get destroyed by him, you had to be a brat. Acting like you had control was the fastest way to make him prove otherwise. Sometimes you suspected he loved control more than he loved you. You’d told him that once, and he’d said you were being dramatic. Again. Well, you could still weaponize it.

The problem was, Dexter was otherwise a calm and patient boyfriend. He tolerated your antics with an almost infuriating ease, whether it was leaving the windshield wipers on long after the rain stopped or overbuying carrots at the farmer’s market only for him to help you eat the whole bowl of carrot salad. He even helped you find reliable owners for the stray cats that always “followed” you home. He was so good to you, and that’s why you always had to wait for something to go wrong. That’s when he was at his weakest and that’s when you struck.

Today’s the day. It was Friday and you didn’t have any classes, so you hadn’t set an alarm. You usually managed to wake up before 8 am – not too early, not too late. But this time, it wasn’t the sunlight or your internal clock that stirred you awake. It was the sound of chewing. Muffled munching, punctuated by the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting as the golden rays of the early Miami morning sun flooded the room. You groaned softly and turned to look at the clock on the bedside table. 7:42. Acceptable.

Blinking the sleep away, you shifted your gaze to Dexter. He sat propped against the headboard on his side of the bed, a plate balanced on his lap, spearing pieces of egg and bacon with his fork before shoving them into his mouth.

What the fuck?

He never ate in bed. One time, when you’d brought a bowl of popcorn to share during a movie night, he’d almost thrown you out.

“I’m not a clean freak. You just can’t even drink out of a bottle without spilling it all over the place,” he’d said. Well, he wasn’t wrong, but you’d managed to convince him anyway.

Now, though? Now he was the one violating the sacred no-food-in-bed rule.

“Morning,” you mumbled, your voice still groggy as you reached for him.

He paused, registering your movement, and turned to you. His fork hovered mid-air as his gaze softened, just enough for him to take your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles. It was a gentle gesture, the grease from his lips lingered on your skin.  

“Hey,” he said, offering a weak smile. His voice carried a strange edge too, almost shaky.

You watched him carefully, he turned back to his food and with a quick flick of the remote, he raised the volume on the TV you hadn’t even noticed was on.   

The screen showed a reporter standing in front of a crime scene, her voice urgent as she rattled off details about a recent incident. They flashed an image of a man – the criminal – and then back to the reporter.

Your eyes darted from the TV to Dexter. His brow was drawn low, his stare almost predatory as he watched the broadcast. His jaw tightened and released, the muscles flexing as he chewed. Occasionally, his teeth ground together, producing a faint, grating sound.

He was in the mood. And it hit you.

He never ate in bed. He wanted you to provoke him. A slow smirk curled your lips.

“Careful, Dex. You might intimidate the reporter through the TV.”

His grip on the fork tightened and chewing came to an abrupt halt. He exhaled sharply through his nose, not amused.

“Not today.”

“Did someone leave a typo in their lab report or what?”

He stuffed the rest of his food into his mouth without so much as glancing at you.  

“Drop it.”

“Oh no, did Masuka out-gross you again?”

The plate clattered onto the bedside table with a force that made you flinch. Before you could react, he was on you. In a flash, his hand gripped your cheeks, his face hovering dangerously close to yours.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

That was easier than you thought.

“Funny? No. I think I’m just observant.”

His eyes narrowed, dark and unrelenting as he studied you. His grip on your cheeks tightened just enough to make your lips purse.

“Is that what you call running your mouth until you get yourself in trouble?”

You couldn’t help it. Even with his face inches from yours, his hand firm on your cheeks, you smirked. “Please, Dexter, you’re all bark and no bite.”

Now you were just being annoying. He was actually all bite and no bark. His jaw ticked anyway, a muscle jumping just beneath his skin. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips as his nose brushed against your cheek.

“You really want to test that theory?”

You tried to shrug, but his grip on you made the movement awkward.

The air between you was thick, electric. His eyes searched yours, and you finally saw that primal tweak of his.

Then, without a warning, he released your cheeks and grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of your head. His strength was effortless, his movement precise.

“If you don’t come at least four times until I have to leave for work, I’m not gonna let you come for four weeks at all.”

Shit. Four weeks is a long time. That’s a whole month!

“Now you’re setting ultimatums?”

“Your time is running out, you sure you want to talk back?”

And that was your cue to finally keep your mouth shut.

“Good girl.” He said, the words sending a jolt straight through you, and you became acutely aware of the wetness pooling in your sleep shorts.

“On your knees. Grab the headboard.”

You obeyed without hesitation, pressing your chest into the mattress as you shifted onto your knees, sticking your ass into the air. You felt the fabric of your shorts clinging to your slick pussy in a way that was both uncomfortable and relieving.

Dexter moved behind you, his hand brushing over your hips, the touch almost gentle before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. He tugged them down, watching the material stick to your pussy, making his cock twitch in his pants. You squirmed under his fingers as they brushed against the skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Jesus, you’re sopping wet. Am I even surprised?” He said, bringing his fingers to your cunt and skimming them along the center from your hole, down to your clit. As he grazed that little spot, you bucked your hips into his hand, only for him to retreat it and bring it down in a swift move, slapping your clit and sending a tingling into your stomach. You moaned, not expecting him to get rough so soon.

Then, he kneeled next to you. You were too afraid to turn your head, but you could see with your periphery vision the tent in his pants. He brought the middle finger and the ring finger of his left hand to your mouth, and you opened without hesitation, wrapping your lips around them as he slid them all the way in. For you, it was awkward from that position, the fingers hooked in the corner of your mouth, forcing it to tilt slightly.

Once he decided that they were wet enough, he removed them and the same arm reached under you, his forearm touching your stomach as his fingers, now slick with your saliva, reached your pussy. They slid between your folds with ease, the two fingers pinching your clit between, before rubbing circles into it.

The tension in your stomach coiled tighter with each movement. You squirmed under him, needing more than he was giving you, and he knew that. But when you started moving too much, he slowed, barely grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Dex,” you whined, your hips moving, trying to chase the friction he was withholding. But his only answer came in a form of a slap to your ass. Your mouth opened in a silent cry, and your hand instinctively let go of the headboard and reached for your cheek in order to sooth the pain. But before you could touch your own skin, his free hand was wrapping around your wrist, holding it high and causing your muscles to strain.

“Don’t make me tie you up. You don’t have time for that.”

You nodded in silent obedience, and you gripped the headboard again, focused on not letting go. His hand was still teasing your clit while his other hand reached from behind and played with your hole, your slickness sticking to his fingers. For a moment, he was enjoying the feeling of it, of you on his fingers. Then he spread the wetness up and over your asshole. He only teased your back entrance, returning to your pussy and plunging his fingers inside, making your grip on the headboard tighten, as well as your walls around his fingers.

Dexter’s fingers worked you expertly, curling upward to hit that spot inside you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. The movements of both his hands were in sync, the combination driving you to the edge as he upped the pace, relentless and unforgiving his fingers thrusting deeper, while also pinching your clit harder and occasionally grazing a nail over it, sending shivers down your spine.

The room was filled with the sounds of your gasps, Dex’s occasional grunts and most importantly, the squelching sounds of your drenched cunt. You were almost embarrassed by it, and Dexter made sure you felt that shame.

“Listen to yourself. So messy.”

Your response was a broken whine, your body trembling as his fingers curled just right to hit that devastatingly perfect spot again and again and again. His other hand maintained its tormenting rhythm on your clit, switching between sharp pinches and soft, tantalizing circles as your juices dripped from your hole to your clit.

Your knuckles became white from the hold you had on the headboard, your focus on not letting go and letting go at the same time. The pressure pulled you further under, and when he felt you clench around him, he pressed harder, his fingers moving with even more intensity.

“You wanna come?”

“Yes,” you whined, your body shaking with the overwhelming sensations.

“Don’t forget your manners, sweetheart.”

The pressure was unbearable now, your release so close you could taste it.

“Please, can I come?”

“Go ahead.” He growled, his fingers resuming his relentless pace, the wave of pleasure hitting you like a tidal force, crashing through every nerve in your body. You cried out, your body convulsing with the intensity of your climax. Your thighs trembled and your grip on the headboard faltered, but you were quick to remember to hold on, otherwise he wouldn’t let you ride it out.

Dexter worked you through the aftershocks, his fingers slowing but still keeping you riding that high until you were an overstimulated mess beneath him. When he withdrew his hand, you thought he’d give you a moment to gather up, but instead, in a quick motion, he was behind you, spreading your ass and burying his face between your cheeks.

Your body twitched as you felt him press his tongue flat on your puffy clit, shaking his head from side to side before catching it between his lips and sucking on it. The stimulation too much, you even tried to pull away even though you didn't really want to. It was to no use anyway, he followed you and his hands pushed against the small of your back, limiting your movements. He kept sucking on your bundle of nerves, his nose nudging your wet opening.

The thought of him being this messy alone made you so fucking horny and needy, as if you weren’t at the maximum capacity to feel those things.

Dexter pulled another whine out of you when he tugged on your clit with his lips, pulling back until he let go with a pop.

“You get so fucking sweet when you’re on your on your knees.” He said before returning his tongue to your pussy, running it flat up and down your lips, spreading your cunt and mixing his spit with your juices before he slurped it all up.

Your hand itched to let go of the headboard and cover your pussy to give your swollen clit a rest, but you were afraid of what he might do if you disobeyed again.

Besides, eating you out was his favorite thing in the world, and bad things would happen if you deprived him of his favorite activities.

One time, he’d made you ride him for so long until it was physically impossible for you to lift your ass. He’d proceeded to call you lazy, and had you dared, you would have slapped him.

Now, too much was at stake. He flicked his tongue against your clit repeatedly before finding your entrance and plunging it inside, the wet muscle massaging your walls. He loved your taste, he loved how you squirmed, he loved how slick and sticky you were. And you loved how animalistic he was about it, and how he didn’t care that you were overstimulated.

He dragged his tongue in and out of you, and then finally, it returned to your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot. And the slightly sharp sensation was all it took to send you over the edge again. Your pelvis twitched against him, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass, dragging his nail against you aggressively and leaving red scratch marks behind.

You loved them more than bruises. You could get bruises anywhere, sometimes they appear, and you don’t even know how. That's a common knowledge. But chafed, irritated skin? You know exactly how it gets there. You remember it. It evokes memories.

He hummed against your hot, wet flesh, the vibrations only accelerating your orgasm. You mewled, almost screamed, but you didn’t want to seem overdramatic. Your cum spilled straight into his mouth and he drank it all down as if he didn’t want to waste a single drop. He caught it on his tongue, licking you through the orgasm. Your upper body felt so numb, while down there, it was like fireworks. And when you finally started coming down, he slowed down, laying kisses over your pussy lips and your butt and your thighs. You felt the wetness his mouth left behind, your slick slowly drying on your skin. It was almost comforting, feeling him be so soft. You felt like curling up to him, falling asleep in his embrace.

“Three to go. You think you can make it?” He asked, and you heard him move behind you, followed by the sound of his buckle as he removed his belt.

You looked at the clock. 8:02. You didn’t think you could, but even if you did, it was in his control. He was just manipulating you to think that it was yours. Or he was just mocking you. He knew you weren’t stupid.

“You think you can?”

The leather belt came down on your ass, to the same place he’d slapped before. You made a note about checking out that bruise later.

 “You’re only giving me reasons to spank the shit out of you.” He said, dragging the belt across your ass, before touching the curved part to your pussy. Once it was gone, you waited for Dexter to hit you there too, but the blow never came.

“Let go of the headboard.”

Your brows furrowed, but your confusion quickly disappeared when he hooked the belt around your neck, yanking you upwards, your back against his chest and his clothed cock nestled between your ass cheeks.

You subtly ground against him, making him purr into your ear, which made you smirk. He gripped both ends of the belt in one hand, while his other arm snaked around your waist, his hand slipping under your tank top and squeezing your breast. The way he pinched and tugged on your nipple made you buck into him with more force, and he reciprocated, grinding against you, giving in to his own pleasure. Then his hand disappeared from your body and you heard the sound of him spitting into his palm, before he brought it to your pussy. As if you weren’t completely drenched. He knew you loved how disgusting the thought was. How lewd you felt when he did that.

For him, this was nothing compared to the things he did during his free time.

Then without a warning, he released one end of the belt, causing you to collapse face-first into the bed. He unbuttoned his khaki pants and pulled his cock out before grabbing your arm and turning you on your back.

You finally got a good look at him - strands of hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes dark framed by lashes that looked like he'd used an eyelash curler (something you envied him). You admired him. Not just for his look, though that part was obvious. He knew he had women turning their heads in his direction. But they didn’t know the brilliant mind beneath it all. He was so clever, so undeniably smart, and that was what truly excited you. That a neat man with a compartmentalized brain like his could get so messy when it came to sex. Like now, all sweaty, his cock leaking onto the sheets. Some of the precum probably landed on your cunt too. The thought alone sent another wave of pleasure building deep in your abdomen.

He leaned down, his tongue flicking into your pussy in one swift motion before crawling over you and capturing your lips in a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. His hand slid to your neck, his thumb pressing firmly against your pulse point, making you aware of how fast your heart was pounding. You moaned into his mouth as he applied a touch more pressure for a split second, giving him the chance to slide his tongue deeper into your mouth. You sucked on it, tasting the tanginess that he'd collected from your lower lips.

Without warning, with just a sublte shift of his hips, he was inside you. A low moan escaped him as he felt the tightness of your walls, and you let out a soft whimper at the stretch. He didn’t move at first. He kept kissing you and his hand slid down your body, squeezing your boob again, rolling the nipple between his fingers. Lowering his head, he wrapped his mouth around your sensitive peak, sucking gently on your tit. Your fingers tangled into his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp, pulling him closer.

His teeth grazed your sensitive nub, sending a jolt through you, and in one fluid motion, his arm snaked beneath you, lifting and sitting up as he pulled you onto his lap. He started thrusting his hips into you, holding you in place, his cock gliding effortlessly along your slick walls.

Leaning forward, his lips found your other breast, his tongue tracing lazy circles around your nipple before his mouth opened wide, taking in as much of your soft flesh as he could. You arched against him, your back curving as your hads pressed his face closer, your head tipping back in ecstasy.

He kept on fucking you, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you dizzy. He drove his cock into you, quickening the pace, a sign that he was getting close. His arms around you tightened and then suddenly, you felt a sharp pain originating in your breast and going straight to your pussy, making you clench around. He was fucking you hard and deep, and when you looked down, you saw him still latched onto your tit, his upper lip covered in crimson.

You felt the sting from the way he was sucking on you, and when he finally removed his lips from your breast, you saw red drops dripping down your breast, the blood leaking from the bite marks where his upper teeth sank into your skin. You were mesmerized by it, and you wanted more. You pushed his face back against your sore nipple and Dexter surprisingly didn’t argue. He licked the blood off you and sucked again while ramming into you. Your body shuddered, and finally your third finish was brought on by a couple of additional thrusts of his hips. Then he laid you flat on the bed and chased his own release. You pulled him up by the chin, meeting his lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you hard and fast until he spilled inside of you.

Once you both came down, he was lying on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him affectionately, because you were so content that he was there with you.

But you were yanked out of your dreamland when he rose to his feet, making your brows furrow.

“That was only three,” your tone couldn't be more confused, as he headed to the bathroom.

“Yeah, but I need to shower and pick new clothes to wear. Can’t go to work with your cum all over my pants.” He came back to the bedroom with a smile on his face, as if he just hadn’t fucked the shit out of you. “Last one’s on you.”

“On me?”

“Yes. Make yourself cum before I leave. If you don’t, you know the consequences.”

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

Asshole. He knew you’d lost the ability to make yourself cum shortly after you’d started sleeping together. But luckily, you had your stash of toys that might help you with your problem.

With the roll of your eyes, you rolled over and reached into your nightstand, but in that moment, he peeked from around the corner.

“Oh, and your hands only.”

“What? That’s not fair!”

His face dropped again.

“You want to tell me what’s fair and what isn’t?”

You slammed the drawer shut and fell on your back, your body bouncing on the soft bed.

“Good girl. And no cheating. I’ll keep the door open. If I so much as hear something else that isn’t your fucking scream, I swear you’ll have to work your ass off to make me let you come ever again. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

You hadn’t done this in a long time. It almost felt unnatural. But despite that, your fingers dropped to your clit, and you began pushing yourself over another edge. Or at least you tried. But it was pointless. You tried to squeeze your wounded breast to get that rush going, but it didn’t have that effect this time. It only made you sweaty.

He managed to finish his shower before you made yourself orgasm, obviously. When he entered the bedroom with a towel around his waist, he looked at you with feigned pity.

“Aww… Don’t tell me my baby needs a manual to get herself off.”

“Dex, come on. You know I can’t make myself orgasm,” you tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t going to budge.

“I can’t do two things at once, I’m only one person,” he argued, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “This is for your own good. I gave you an opportunity to make it to four before I have to leave. It’s not my fault you’re not capable.”

You huffed, bringing your fingers to your pussy again, stuffing them inside yourself and trying to fuck yourself, but again, to no avail.

He even laughed at you, and when you opened your eyes, you saw him already with his work bag slung over his shoulder, hands casually tucked in his pocket. You’d lost.

“Fuck, I wish you could see yourself. So desperate. It’s like your world has been destroyed.”

“It kinda has.”

He came to your side of your bed where you were still lying with your hand between your legs. He leaned over you, brushing the hair that stuck to your forehead and placing a soft kiss there.

“Take that as a lesson. You shouldn’t take a bait if you can’t handle the hook.”

And with that he turned on his heel and left, leaving you wrecked and messy, the most agonizing four weeks of your life just now beginning.

a/n2: i'm thinking it's kinda more vanilla than i intended it to be, but oh well... thank you for reading!!

[tinythebunni]

thinking about dexter who takes you on one of his “hunts” and lets you see who he is fully! lets you see his dark passenger!

🍭🫧🩷🐬

“you can’t make a noise bun. i get you think this is fun but it’s not a game. this urge i have, i do this so i can control it. do you understand me?”

you nod, biting ur lip and batting ur pretty mink lashes. you’re barely listening by da time he’s finished his speile and honestly you’re so horny by how demanding he sound you can’t even fully process it!

you guys met almost a year ago, being introduced by Angel! you went to school with his sister and she loved you so much she took you on her babysitting trips! he came home to you letting Harrison, or H.R as you call him, paint your nails and giggle about girls at school!

Dexter was mesmerized by you. the glossy hair, your brown skin, the dark gleam in your eye paired with the innocence you seemed to possess. he couldn’t get enough.

“i need words. not nods, words. ‘m already taking a risk with you even knowing. you gotta tell me this is okay.” he whispered, his left thumb and forefinger pinching your chin.

“mhm Dex! this is perfectly fine! i’ll be quiet! like a mouse!! won’t even know m here. i pinky promise on my perky tits!” you beamed up at him.

he doubted you could even keep quiet for ten minutes, but the excited expression you wore made it hard to say no.

an hour later and a whole lot of plastic later, you were sat on a counter swinging your legs while Dex circled his next victim, waiting for him to wake up.

he felt the anticipation under his skin, paired with the slight annoyance from hearing your nails click-clack on your phone. your bedazzled phone might he add, that he bought for you after he broke your old one stalking someone. how sweet of him!

eventually the loser woke up and the ritual began. Dex cutting his cheek for the blood slide, showing the killer his victims, and then the kill.

with the knife pointed above his victim and the dark gleam in his eye, he got ready to end his life. but then, the slight whimper that left your mouth mad whim pause. he glanced over at you and saw your thighs clenched and eyes hazy.

wait, were you getting off on this? he smiled a little bit. it was nice. someone you could deal with his dark passenger and his facade. he wanted to take care of you, to make his babydoll feel good. but he had to take care of this man. this scum of the earth.

he was gaining movement in his legs again, so dexter had to act fast. “not so fast doc.” he growled out, still looking at you.

he plunged the knife into his chest and watched as your hands clung to the counter and you bit your lip. holy shit, you really were horny from him killing someone.

his perfect girl. he was so, so grateful for you.

[lustagel]

riding dexter in his iconic killer fit 𐫱 fem reader :p nom

he likes for things like this to be separate. things being his passion with you and his dark passenger but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to quite separate them tonight once he saw your glossy eyes and longing stare after he’d entered his apartment. he thought you’d been long asleep by the time he’d gotten there, that’s why he hadn’t bothered to change, but he was mistaken. as you pepper kisses under jaw, like you always do, you hadn’t seem to notice at all, even when you unbuckled his pants enough to slide his dick into you.

dexter would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly distracted as you rode him, the heat of your body contrasting against the cold precision of his thoughts, he was only obtaining fragments of the scene in front of him—the soft hum of your voice, the way your body moves, the way his hands rest on your hips, offering a subtle semblance of control he doesn't truly want to exercise right now. he was silently grateful that it was dark in the bedroom, nothing emulating light but the moon through the crack of the blinds, or you would see too much of him.

as if not to let you see, he moves his eyes from you to where you are connected noticing how the fabric of his pants are becoming wet from your gushing pussy. “oh,” he says in a hushed moan, taking mental note for himself to buy new pants later. you're unaware of it all, lost in the rhythm, calling his name between moans, feeling his toned chest underneath your hands as it inflates with oxygen. your eyes follow his neck down to his chest where you see the tight, green, long sleeve, the color bouncing off the blacks of your eyes from the moonlight. you let out a little whimper at the looks of his body under yours, head slightly spinning.

his hands tighten slightly on your hips as you bounce harder, your breath hitching, but he releases as soon as he hears it. he lets it happen, lets you guide him with your own pace and speed until you reach it. it's the sound of your soft gasp, the way your nails dig into his chest as you climax, that grounds him in this moment—not as a predator, but as a man.

[satansapostle6]

Love The Sinner | Dexter Morgan

Dexter Morgan, a vigilante serial killer hiding in plain sight, loses sleep for the first time in his life when he’s met with the very last thing he expected: a kindred spirit.

Warnings: Violence. Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Part One.

Part Two. Innocent Until Proven Sexy.

Johnny Bertelli, in the many long months of my murder trial, became my favorite fucking person. The jury thankfully didn’t really see it that way, but we were running circles around the prosecutors. Our claim was naturally self defense, and I have to admit, it was a fucking good one. Story goes, I entered George Randall’s house to confront him, for causing my daughter’s suicide. I got angry, and things got heated, with neighbors to attest to the fact that we were both yelling. George got angry, and attacked me. And I defended myself. The story’s so good, even I believe it.

Technically, I did come to return George’s dishes to him, and he did get pretty heated with me when we argued, so really, we weren’t telling too many lies here. As far as George’s various embellishments, this case was pretty clean. I would say the only challenge Johnny and I faced in court was spinning my obvious lack of remorse when I was arrested. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Johnny take on a real challenge. It really is funny to watch this giant Italian guy pacing about the court during his addresses to the court while he’s built like Luca Brasi.

At the moment, I’m sitting up on the stand beside the judge, while the entire courtroom scrutinizes my every move and micro expression. There are about fifty pairs of eyes on me, but right now, I only care about one. A pair of sharp green eyes, that I still recognize from when I couldn’t work that goddamn phone. But I quickly snapped out of it, bringing my attention back to Johnny, and the trial. Somehow, this felt less interesting.

“So. Nicole, I know you’ve been through a lot in the past year or so, so forgive me,” my lawyer began, evoking sympathy from the court, “But did you have any intention of murdering George Randall when you knocked on his door?”

I took a moment, almost chewing on the question as I reluctantly relished its bitter taste.

“No.”

One thing good lawyers tell you: never answer more than the question you’re being asked. Even if you think it makes you sound better.

“Now, Nicole… I’m sorry that we have to go through this… Frankly, hurtful line of questioning. If you need to, just focus on me, alright? For now, this is between us. Not the court.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Johnny nodded kindly. God, we were fucking good at this. I was so close to nominating us both for Academy Awards.

“Can you tell me what you were thinking, as you knocked on George’s door?”

I thought for a moment, calling back to our preparations for this trial.

“I… I was naturally angry, and disgusted, when I read my daughter’s suicide note, stating that George Randall had…”

I did genuinely choke on the word.

“Raped… my daughter,” I told Johnny. “I was appalled, but… More than anything, I wanted answers.”

Johnny looks at me curiously. “‘Answers’?”

I cleared my throat. “I… I just couldn’t understand how someone, a human being, could be capable of that sort of evil. I mean, to rape a child? To cause a twelve year-old girl, my little girl, to take her own life? What kind of monster does that?”

Johnny nods, agreeing with me. “Yes. It’s unthinkable. That’s what it is, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, unthinkable, and unspeakable… But unfortunately, my client, Nicole, does not have the luxury of being able to ignore what this man did… Because this man’s evil claimed two lives; not only the life of twelve year-old Isabella Carvalho, but Nicole Carvalho’s as well, if the prosecution prevails,” he says harshly. “That is the truth; if the prosecution succeeds in wrongfully convicting Nicole Carvalho of murder, she will receive a prison sentence, or God forbid, the death penalty, for defending herself against the man who attacked her, the very same man who raped and drove her daughter to suicide at only twelve years old.”

Johnny nods solemnly, looking at me gratefully before turning to the court.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I believe that this is a crucial factor in this case; George Randall may be dead today, but the fact remains, he was neither murdered, nor a victim. He raped a twelve year-old girl.”

A harsh wave of silence washes over the court, as most hold their breath.

“He raped a twelve year old-girl, driving her to the irreversible act of suicide at the young age of twelve, not even a teenager yet, and when that girl’s mother knocked on her door, he couldn’t handle it, and lashed out at her!”

The jury seemed just as disturbed as they should’ve been at this. I sat quietly on the stand, not having to say a word. Johnny was working the court. Together, we were such good liars, I think we even believed ourselves, on some level. As Johnny continued his argument, highlighting me as the victim in our perfect narrative, I looked around the room with a deep sadness in my eyes. I really was thinking about my daughter. I felt like I was living in some dystopian world, a world where my daughter was dead, and I had become a murderer.

Everything around me felt so distant and surreal, but then, I looked into his eyes. The man I had hardly noticed before, because he looked like every man. It was him, watching my trial, next to another man he’d come with, a short bald man. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but it really was him, the man who had helped me with the phone at Miami Metro all those months ago. It was him, I was sure of it, sitting there lost in the crowd watching the proceedings of my court case with his eyes darting back and forth like at a basketball game. I looked right into his cold green eyes, and suddenly, reality hit me again.

I was no longer lost in my melancholic fantasy. I was brought back to real life, in all its delicious violence and passion. I didn’t believe in God, but this man had the presence of an angel. Not, like, a cartoonish cherub with tiny wings and a halo, but a real, biblically accurate angel. I looked into his cold, icy eyes that seemed to watch me with an almost inhuman precision, and I felt so strange. This feeling was like nothing I’d ever experienced before with any other stranger. I looked into his eyes, felt his austere gaze on me, and I could’ve sworn it was like all the blood drained from my body.

I looked into this man’s eyes, and I felt more things in that one millisecond than I’d ever felt in my life. This man looked to me like an angel. Not because he was so soft and comforting, but because I could’ve sworn I looked into his hawklike eyes and heard a voice tell me ‘do not be afraid’. It felt just as surreal as a human in the bible encountering a real angel, in all its terrifying glory. In that moment, I had no idea what came over me, but when our eyes met, I looked at him for a moment, no longer lying, or playing a character. I looked at him from across the room, electrified, and for a split second, I smiled. I don’t know why, I couldn’t help it.

I risked my entire court case just to look at this strange man across the room, and I just smiled, with no remorse or concern for anything but my own appetites. What was even stranger was that he looked at me, saw my flirtatious smile, and returned it, for so short of a time that afterwards, I couldn’t even be sure if it was real.

*****

After today, I left the court room with Johnny in tears. Real tears. Not many of them, but enough to warrant sunglasses. I was still emotional about Isabella, given that she was practically murdered, and it just so happened that it came out from time to time in public. After walking out of the courthouse with Johnny, with his hand on my back as we ran past the journalists trying to get interviews and photos, I wiped away the last of my tears, brushing mascara clumps off of my fingers.

“You did good, kiddo,” Johnny promises me.

I just smile, nodding. I love this man, because he talks to me like we’re on The Sopranos. I hurry down the street with him in my Jimmy Choos, rushing to our cars just as I accidentally bump into a man on the street.

“Oh, sorry—!” the man exclaims, as his companion turns.

I suddenly stop as, right there on the street, the man from Miami Metro and his bald friend stand right in front of us. Johnny is somewhat confused by my lingering, but waits with me. The bald man looks at me like he’s seen a ghost, staring at me like he’s starstruck. Fuck, I think, he must recognize me. I thought he was about to panic, or act like I have something contagious, given about half of society currently sees me as a murderer, but he seems to have a completely different reaction.

“O-Oh my God!” the little bald man exclaims, as the other man just smiles at me uncomfortably. “You’re—You’re—”

He seems incapable of finishing the sentence.

“Nicole Carvalho,” I finish the sentence for him.

“…Miami MILF!” he exclaims, before I can finish. “Murderer I’d Like to Fuck!”

I frowned, not really expecting that as Johnny chivalrously comes to my defense.

“Hey, pal…” my lawyer begins, before I cut him off.

“Johnny, it’s alright,” I turned to him, not threatened by this man.

The bald Japanese man scrambles before just handing me his coffee cup. “Do you think you could sign this?!”

As far as strange interactions after I became a household name, this honestly wasn’t the worst.

“You… want me to sign this?” I question, needing confirmation as he hands me the mostly empty coffee cup.

He nods. “Yeah!”

But before this can go any further, the man from Miami Metro intervenes, taking the coffee cup from me as an act of courtesy.

“Okay, Masuka,” he says responsibly, “I don’t think we need to do that—”

I take the cup back, smiling as I fish for a pen in my purse. “It’s alright,” I promise them, deciding to just sign the cup, “I’ve always wanted to give an autograph, albeit, under different circumstances… What’s your name?”

The bald man practically jumps for joy as I sign the cup. “Vince. It’s Vince.”

Honestly, his morbid fascination with me was somewhat… well… fascinating. I was probably a murderer, or at the very least definitely a killer, but he didn’t seem to care, because I looked good in a pencil skirt. God, the halo effect is real.

“Okay, great, I’ll make this out to Vince:”

“Thank you!” Vince says far too enthusiastically.

I nod. “Mm-hmm.”

The man from Miami Metro just stands there, awkwardly, frowning sympathetically as I sign and give back the paper cup.

“Here you go,” I say charismatically, “Just… Promise not to lift it for prints, okay?”

This makes even the sandy-haired guy from the police station chuckle, before Johnny chimes in, with perfect comedic timing.

“She’s kidding, of course,” Johnny says quickly, smiling, “You wouldn’t find much if you did.”

I smile as I seem to have made the bald man, Masuka’s, day.

“Thank you,” the sandy-haired guy says sheepishly, “And sorry…”

“Not a problem,” I offer, “At least I get to feel like a celebrity for… two seconds.”

“Oh, come on,” Vince Masuka says, “I’m sure guys ask you for autographs all the time.”

I smile awkwardly. “Surprisingly, no.”

“Really?” he thinks. “Huh. Well, they should, because… All due respect… You’re a dime piece.”

I smile. “Well, that just brightens up my day….”

He laughs a laugh that I can only describe as Beavis and Butthead-esque.

“Alright, well… Thank you for your time,” the Miami Metro guy thanks me politely and apologetically. “Vince… let’s leave the nice woman alone,” he prompted, seeming desperate to get away.

But why? Why was this man who had been watching me for days suddenly so keen on getting away? He must’ve wanted some semblance of distance from me… To watch me in the shadows, without me knowing he’s there. He was trying to get away, but I didn’t let him. I just couldn’t. He was like a fly stuck in my trap.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?” I ask him.

Forget the cat, curiosity was killing me.

“Uh, Dexter,” he says in a friendly manner, shaking my hand.

“Dexter,” I smile, as if trying it out.

Of course it had to be something like that. I considered that maybe he’d given me a fake name, but given that he had a friend with him, I supposed it probably wasn’t.

“Well, Vince, Dexter, it was nice meeting you,” I wave as I walk away with Johnny.

Vince looks at me like a lost puppy, waving hopelessly as I walk away. Dexter, on the other hand, gives me a tiny wave before the friendly smile on his face disappears, revealing a colder, smarter mind beneath the surface, if only for a second. I had no idea who this man was, or why he was really so interested in my case. Logic told me he could’ve been just as pervy of a fanboy as his friend, but something told me it certainly wasn’t that. I didn’t know what his fascination was with me, but I knew it was something dark. There was something just so present, and unnerving, in the way he looked at me, even just as he waved goodbye to me on the street.

I just couldn’t quite place it, and it was killing me. I racked my brain, but still, I couldn’t think of just one instance where somebody looked at me the exact same way this Dexter character did. It was strange. However, there was one memory of someone in particular that wasn’t exact, but a close match. The closest thing to the look I saw in Dexter’s eyes was the look in George Randall’s eyes, right before he died, somewhere between the tenth and eleventh stab wound.

-

Part Three.

[subtlebloodshed]

Make it hurt

cw. rough sex, mean mocking, dom!brian, fsub!reader, crying, manipulation but reader doesn't know it, brian as rudy, brian is his own warning

Rudy is hands down the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. He remembers all your favorite things, always knows how to make you laugh, and somehow nails every romantic gesture that makes your heart melt. Honestly, you catch yourself wondering all the time how you got so lucky—what you did to deserve him, or how many orphanages you must have built in a past life to end up with someone this amazing. But one thing’s for sure: he loves you. And he loves you so well that it blows your mind how easily he fucks you like he hates you.

And right now, it feels like he despises you. 

You saw it in the dark, hungry look in his eyes—the promise of exactly where you are now. Your hands are bound tightly behind your back with his tie, your body arched against his as his bicep wraps firmly around your throat. His teeth graze your shoulder before sinking in, sending a shiver through you, while his hand claims your breast with bruising intensity. Each relentless thrust pushes deeper, making it clear he’s lost in his desire, your comfort the furthest thing from his mind. 

“S-Slow down, baby…” You whimper through your breathless sobs, tears running down your flushed cheeks.

“God, are you crying?” Rudy grunts with a chuckle, his hand on your breast moving up to shove his fingers into your mouth, effectively gagging you, “You’re fucking pathetic, sobbing over my cock when you should be grateful for it.” 

The grip on your throat tightens, cutting off just enough air to send a wave of panic and thrill racing through your body. For a fleeting moment, you’re certain this is how it ends, but the fear only heightens the intensity of everything else. The pressure on your airway and the relentless ache between your legs blend into a haze that leaves your vision swimming, every nerve alive with sensation.

Your bound hands twist behind you, desperate for reprieve, nails digging into curves of his abdomen begging for mercy. Rudy groans at the sting, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, “Stop fucking struggling, take it, fucking take it.” 

“Rud–Rudy, please, I can’t– I can’t take anymore…” You croak out tightly, your discomfort evident. 

“Does it hurt, doll?” He asks, his hips slowing for a moment as his grip on your throat loosens enough to give you a moment to breathe. He plants kisses over the back of your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against your skin. This moment is one of reassurance; he still loves you, no matter how hard he’s drilling into you– he’s still your Rudy and he’d do anything for you.

You nod, sniffling back your tears and trying to ignore the drool running down your chin. His hand moves to tilt your head to look at him, his eyes scanning yours–studying you. Rudy is checking if you’re okay, if he should actually slow down. When you give him a slight nod with that desperate and needy look in your eyes, he smirks and leans in to plant a kiss to your jaw.

“It should hurt.” He spits before he shoves you face-first down onto his bed roughly as his hips start their assault on you again.

[marvelsgirl616]

dexter icons // bhb

[willieverseetheland]

hi there!! sorry for asking but do you write for Brian Moser as well? cause I just saw ur dexter fics and I'm IN LOVE, and there isn't rlly much of him. HOPE UR HAVING A GOOD DAY, LOVE UR WRITING!!

I honestly haven't considered it, but this has got me thinking! I'll have to rewatch season 1 to get a better understanding of his character. However, before anyone asks, no I will NOT write mosercest.

[timetojointheclub]

I think there should be more Dexter x Male!Reader bc I think we’re in dire need !!

[c0ffinshit]

Hello, You. (Dexter Morgan x Yandere!Reader) CHAPTER ONE

a/n: oh my god??? i literally didn't expect the type of love i would get on the prologue for this fic. i am so thankful for all the kind words said about my fic. so, in honor of that, here is the first official chapter of Hello, You. :3 word count: 1,255 warnings: dead dove: do not eat, intentionally awkward dialogue, talks of guns, vague mentions of self-harm, mentions of stalking along with some light stalking, idk dexter has mommy issues, mentions of breaking bones PROLOGUE

What you don’t understand is that I have eyes and ears everywhere. That’s why I remain outside and a block from your shop, your place of work. It’s getting close to the end of your shift now. The moon is fading into my view and the air has suddenly grown cold. The thickest jacket wraps around me, the cold bricks of the alley hitting my back. But it doesn’t bother me right now.

I need to follow your every move.

I need to make sure you are safe.

I need to be focused on you.

It's hard not to watch you from inside the shop’s window. Your hands fiddle with the shop’s laptop, the way your eyes scan it with such intensity. You’re erotic without even trying. But it’ll be a miracle when I finally see you up close. When you finally get to kiss me like I always dreamed you would. When you finally get to be inside me and create our new family together. Harrison with a sister or maybe even a brother. Our own family to raise and grow with. Our grass that’s always greener than the rest with our children that we raised right. But not here, not in Iron Lake. Not with Rita, Lumen, Angela, or a fucking Lila. Currently, the only thing keeping me from you is walking inside and finally meeting eye-to-eye with you. I don’t even know what I’d ask to look at. I know so little about guns. Curse me for being more interested in your location and finding good hunting knives.

My eyes scan the busy small-town streets and cautiously enter the sidewalk. As I walk closer to the shop, the voices I walk beside grind against my eardrum. They all don’t know my truth. The truth that I want to show you and help you believe.

Because I do love you, Dexter Morgan, and that’s something you’ll never deny.

Your eyes shoot up as I shakingly open the door. "Hello, welcome in. What can I help you with?"

My legs feel like Jell-O, and my only movement is a head nod. I walk over to the cameo section and just stare at the patterns. But then, I came to a realization.

I’ve never heard you speak more than three words to me.

That has to be why my legs can’t work and my heart feels like a drum solo in a song.

It’s a little lovesickness.

My lungs inhale a deep breath as I walk over to your counter. "Hello-um-uh. I’d like to buy a gun."

You pause for a moment, your eyes burning through my skin.

You can finally see me.

"Alright, looking for anything in particular?"

I look up from the floor and look at you for the first time. Your hair is shorter than the pictures online and you look more tired. You need a release. Then, maybe you wouldn’t look so exhausted.

"Um, the cheapest. " I laugh, "and it doesn’t matter what kind."

"Let me see what we’ve got. Do you have your ID on you?"

I pat down my pockets, pulling out my leather, beat-up black wallet. My fingers comb through the folds and find my ID, sliding it over the glass casting. It’s a fake ID, of course. I only do that to keep you safe from what I might do. You’re tainted already, there’s no need to ruin you further. So I took a name that would recognize, Laura, your mother. Is it strange that I took the name of your dead mother? It’s not like she was using it. Plus, most people love their mothers. What do they call it? The Oedipus Complex? That feels right. I’m not one for psychology.

I watch your eyes scan my ID, stopping at my name.

"Laura. That’s a beautiful name."

Yes. Yes, it is.

I tuck my dyed hair behind my ear as you return my ID. "Thank you. I was named after my great aunt Laura."

You nod your head in acknowledgment and gently smile at me. Fuck, it feels amazing to make you smile. But a part of me knows that this is fake, that I put this on to remind you of someone. Someone you loved, admired even. Your eyes return to the computer, typing away at your computer. As much as I want to lean over the counter, grab your face, and kiss you tenderly, I physically can’t bring myself to do anything. Once again, I am frozen as your fingers clack against the keyboard. Pathetic. I can only pull at the bottom of my coat, hoping you don’t notice my cheeks growing redder. "Well, I have a few choices for you. Although, I do have one question. Are you looking for a smaller handgun or bigger, more shotgun-like gun?"

The sad part was that I thought for a moment. I, a girl who never cared about guns or bothered to buy guns, was thinking about the type of gun I wanted. Well, I wanted something to impress him. Something that said: Hello, you.

"Something smaller. Something a little more intimate."

He typed along on his laptop and waited, looking down at my hands. "Rough night?"

My eyes peek at my hands. The knuckles are darker than the rest of my skin, covered in deep scars and recently open wounds. To put it nicely, I had to break a few bones to get here. Both in the sense that I had to fight some personal demons and I had to break someone’s forearm for a decent car. Thankfully, both are dead now. I’ll never have to deal with them again.

"Yeah," I reply softly. "You could say that."

His gears began to turn again, probably thinking that I might be in some type of trouble.

"If you need a place to stay, my cabin is always warm and open."

My ears perk up at the invitation. I would have to jump through hoops to gain your trust. And yet, here you are inviting me over to your home. This is an innocent thing. No one would come up to your door asking for someplace warm. It's the polite thing to say.

"I’ll keep that in mind." I rush out like I’m trying to get my thoughts out.

His eyes flicker back to the laptop and after a few clicks, he turns the screen to face the both of us.

"So, we have this Smith & Wesson E-Series Semi-Automatic Pistol. It's known for its precision and accuracy. ‘Bit pricey but the brand is known for its close range and great for self-defense, and the like-"

"Can I pick it up tomorrow?" I burst out, cringing at myself for letting my mouth open like that.

"Of course! We’ll have it reserved for you. Let’s get a few things squared away first."

We go through all the necessary paperwork for gun ownership, ensuring I have a license and verifying my identity. Boring, I know. But everything was done just as the next person walked in. Perfect, the last thing I need is more people to remember. I thanked him and left, leaving a token of my love behind. A business card with my fake contact information. The only thing that was real was the phone number. Not my number, of course, but a phone he could contact through a burner phone. No SIM card so he couldn’t get anything from the phone even if he tried.

But I smile as I walk to my car.

He is within reach.

[nestingdoves]

You and me both, friends. We're really all in this together. 👏

I, unfortunately, have nothing in mind other than elaborating further on some of those posts I made. (As in, full on fic.)

So feel free to send me in your darkfic requests.

[6rookie-writer0110]

Winds could change

Dexter Morgan x Male Reader

Request- So... did we just talk about it? Yes. Dexter Morgan x male reader. Headcanon or fic for what dexter is like with his first boyfriend? And you know Deb has stuff to say

Dexter Morgan always has feelings for other men but never acted on it. Now that he has a boyfriend he isn't sure what to do. He starts to overthink every little thing he does and he never felt so nervous before. You are watching a movie with Dexter, now he starts to overthink if he should hold your hand.

Do I hold his hand now? I think he will be okay with it...

He thought to himself, slowly he moved his hand on top of your hand. You hold his hand and Dexter likes it.

”Why are your hand is sweaty?” You asked.

Dexter wiped his hand on his shirt.

”Sorry,” Dexter said.

”Were you nervous? You don't have to feel nervous all the time” You said.

”I lied. I never dated a guy before and you are my first boyfriend” Dexter said.

”I’m not mad and yeah I can tell,” You said.

”How?” Dexter asked.

”Little things you do. And you seem nervous all the time around me” You said.

I wonder how he will feel if he finds out, I’m a serial killer.

He thought himself.

”I want to tell my sister Deb, that you are my boyfriend,” Dexter said.

”That is a huge step. Whenever you are ready, I will be happy to meet your sister” You said.

You smiled then he kissed you.

✧ ✫ ✧ ✫

It’s date night and Dexter is feeling very nervous again. He is in his boxers and he doesn't know what you wear yet. Usually, he would know what to wear but he can't. He noticed the time and he doesn't want to be late.

He got dressed fast and got in his car starts to drive. He gets out of the car and he noticed a flower shop and he went inside to buy chocolate.

Does Y/N like flowers? Is it normal to get guys flowers? I know everyone likes chocolate, I could get chocolate for him. I do know his favorite kinds. Chocolate it is.

Dexter thought to himself and he bought the candy and a cute plush.

He meets you at the restaurant and you gave him a peck on the lips.

”I got this for you,” Dexter said.

”Thanks, I was craving chocolate. Let’s eat” You said.

You and Dexter sit down, he wants to hold your hand but doesn't. He is hesitating and his hand starts to sweat.

”Dex?” You asked.

”Just nervous, sorry,” Dexter said.

”Don’t be. Dating a guy shouldn't be complicated. We like romantic dates, having fun with each other just doing stuff as a couple” You said.

”I don't want to mess anything up. Deb should be here soon. She does have a mouth like a sailor” Dexter said.

”I’m okay with that. Do you think she will like me?” You said.

”Yeah, I think she would. I think you and Deb will get along” Dexter said.

A couple of minutes later, Deb finally arrived and she happy to meet you.

”Y/N, it's great to finally meet you. I thought I wasn't, because he isn't much of a talker when it comes to the relationship” Deb said.

”We were waiting for the right moment,” You said.

”You better not fucking hurt my brother, or I will kick your nuts down your throat,” Deb said with a glare.

”Deb, calm down,” Dexter said.

”It’s okay. She is overprotective of you, I can sense the bond is strong and will protect each other. Deb, I promise I won't hurt him” You said.

”I will keep my eye on you,” Deb said.

”How about we order drinks,” Dexter said.

You, Deb and Dexter, drink beer and keep getting to know each other better.

All night, Dexter noticed that Deb is starting to like you and you made her laugh. You went to use the bathroom, Deb and Dexter are getting steak.

”Do you really like him?” Dexter asked.

”Yeah, he seems like a nice guy. I actually did research on him. He is a good guy with a clean record” Deb said.

”He does make me happy. I do see us being long term but I don't want to jinx it” Dexter said.

”I understand. Good to know that he makes you happy. I did mean it if he hurts you then I will kick his ass” Deb said.

You came back, the night is still going well.

✧ ✫ ✧ ✫

Usually, you and Dexter would have breakfast together but today couldn't. Dexter told you he didn't eat breakfast because he was called in early for work. You went to buy donuts, coffee, and a bagel.

You arrived at his job and he is happy to see you.

”Hey, I got you breakfast and maybe we can eat together,” You said.

Dexter couldn't stop smiling. His friend Angel Batista saw you and Dexter introduce you to him.

”Y/N this my friend and co-worker Angel Batista” Dexter said.

”Nice to meet you. How do you know Dexter?” Angel said.

You were going to say his friend but Dexter said something.

”Y/N is my boyfriend,” Dexter said.

”That’s great. I’m always telling him that he shouldn't only focus on work. Glad, he took the advice. Dex, did you finish writing the report?” Angel said.

”Yes, it's on my desk I will go get it,” You said.

”Y/N, do you like bowling? We have a game and you should come” Angel said.

”Sure, I will come,” You said.

”Good,” Angel said and walked away.

You followed Dexter to his office. You and Dexter start to eat together.

”I’m not ashamed of being your boyfriend. Bowling is tomorrow night, I will pick you up” Dexter said.

”Sounds good to me. I keep finding out new things about you, I like that” You said.

Dexter smiled.

I hope one day, you will accept that I’m a serial killer.

He thought to himself.

✧ ✫ ✧ ✫

The next night, you went to the bowling alley. You cheer for Dexter and his friends and everyone is having a good time. He did tell the others you are his boyfriend and they are okay with it.

Later, you and Dexter started to play bowling together and he did give you pointers. All night, you and Dexter played together and he kissed you in front of everyone.

[fanficimagery]

Imagine Malfoy being lonely on Halloween since you had graduated from Hogwarts.

Prompt courtesy of @spilledcoffeestudios

Author's Note: Voldemort never returned to wreak havoc on our favorite characters.

Draco X Reader

Hogwarts was a bit set in their ways about what holidays they celebrated and which ones they did not. Halloween, for example, was not celebrated as it should have been even though a lot of students had made inquiries about it. The most the Headmaster did was add more floating candles and pumpkins, as well as have the school elves bake up some Halloween treats.

But after putting some pressure on the professors and gathering enough alumni students to help chaperone, Halloween at Hogwarts was about to be one for the books. While those students who still followed old tradition were allowed to give their blessings outside under the careful eye of a Professor or two, the other students were to dress up in whatever silly or student appropriate costumes they had and enjoy a dance in the Great Hall after supper.

Having been informed a couple months prior to Halloween night, a majority of the students are eagerly bouncing in their seats as dinner winds down. You, however, as alumni are standing just outside the Great Hall doors and peeking in to await when dinner is officially over. Then glancing towards the Slytherin table you see him- the him in question being Draco Malfoy.

Though you were a year older, and a Gryffindor of all things, you didn't let petty House rivalries keep you from making friends outside the red and gold. Any and all Slytherins had been a bit tough to befriend, but you eventually wormed your way into the lives of a select few. Over the years, much to the surprise of everyone except his parents, you and Draco became quite close. But then graduation came and went, and while Draco still had one more year at Hogwarts, you had to become an adult nearly over night.

So while you were busy looking for a job and a place to live, you might have neglected Draco a little more than you had ever before. And while the two of you weren't in a romantic relationship, your friendship wasn't exactly platonic either.

Dinner is finally proclaimed over and while many students scramble out of their seats, Slytherin take their time. Many Gryffindors are happy to see you and you greet them back while also encouraging them to go get dressed for the upcoming dance. Then glancing back at the table, you grin at Draco and his morose expression. His elbow is resting atop the table and his chin is resting in his hand. He looks rather bored and not a bit excited for the Halloween dance, and then he looks rather annoyed as Pansy Parkinson pushes her way into the small spot between him and Blaise.

Showtime.

As you walk towards the Slytherin table and then turn to head down the aisle so you'd end up at Draco's back, you wink at every other Slytherin who takes notice of your presence and then stare immediately at Draco who's being pawed at by the one girl who never took no for an answer.

"..but Drakey-"

You wrinkle your nose at Pansy's cooing voice. "Honestly, Parkinson, no means no." Draco's gaze immediately darts to you and his chin leaves the palm of his hand as he sits up straight in surprise. Pansy sneers at your interruption. "I'm gone for a couple of months and you think Draco will be dumb enough to slip his dexterous fingers down your knickers? Get over yourself, Parkinson. You're not that much of a catch."

"Y/N! Blimey it's good to see you." Before Draco can stand from his seat, you find yourself wrapped up in the arms of Theo Nott. Several Slytherin snicker as you have to peer around him since he's so tall and you fondly roll your eyes at Draco who's now grinning. "The girls have gone absolutely barmy now that you're gone. Poor Drake can barely find any time alone. He’s really missed you."

"Buck up, Nott. It won't be long until you're all out and joining me in the real world. Enjoy the barmy girls now because it'll be sad and lonely when you leave here." Squirming out of Theo's hold, you fondly pinch Blaise's cheek who swats at you and then wink at both Greengrass girls who are all too amused at Pansy stewing in anger.

Finally finding her voice, Pansy begrudgingly asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to make sure Draco has fun tonight, of course." You smirk at her glowering expression and then turn your attention to Draco as you lower yourself into the spot next to him that had been vacated as you walked up. "I even got us matching outfits for tonight, babe. We're going to have so much fun."

"But you're alumni! It's inappropriate to escort a student to a school function."

"Oh stuff it, Pansy," Millicent Bulstrode grumbles as she passes by. "Draco has been Y/N's for years. You've just been too jealous to accept it."

Numerous Slytherin's explode into laughter as Pansy's shriek of, "I'm not jealous!", and laugh even harder as she flees after Millicent to most likely berate the poor girl in the privacy of their dorms.

"So," Draco drawls as he places an arm around your shoulders and drags you closer to his side, "matching outfits?"

"Don't get your wand in a knot, Malfoy," you grin up at him. "Your mum helped me picked out a muggle suit that you're going to look absolutely dashing in and a masquerade mask."

"Merlin I missed you, witch." Draco presses a kiss to your temple, his lips then moving near your ear. "Hogwarts just isn't the same without you."

"Of course it isn't."

Leaning back, he then asks, "And what will you be wearing?"

"A dress and mask as well."

Blaise groans. "Please tell me this dress has a slit?"

"Hey!"

Blaise grunts and holds the arm Daphne had punched at Draco's exclamation. "What? She's got lovely legs."

Astoria giggles and you shrug. "Well he's not wrong." Draco huffs and you gently elbow him, placing your hand on his knee below the table and squeezing once. "Not only does my dress have a slit, but it's got two! Mrs. Malfoy nearly disapproved until I reminded her that I was no longer a student. Then she got a really devilish smile and piled on a bunch of accessories. It was almost terrifying."

"Almost?" Draco chuckles.

"Yes. Because the dress is slinky with high-riding slits and with a neckline nearly down to my navel and your mother approved it! Your mother, who might I remind you, is very conservative when it comes to dressing young witches."

Blaise snorts. "It's obvious, isn't it? Narcissa is trying to get her son laid."

The table falls silent as Blaise's words sink in and then as every stare is directed towards you and Draco, you can feel your face heating up. Sighing in resignation, you lean into Draco and rest your head on his shoulder. "Your mother is going to be a nightmare." Astoria and Daphne start to giggle, Blaise and Theo following with their deep rumbling laughter. "I hate you all."

"You'll get over it come morning." Draco moves to stand and tugs you up with him. Then without letting go of your hand, something which you encourage by sliding your fingers between his, he leads you out of the Great Hall. "Hurry and get dressed so we can take some pictures for mother. I'm sure she'll want to see her darling witch in whatever  risqué costume she chose for you."

"Yes, well, fair warning," you chuckle. "Be sure to keep your eyes on my eyes. The last thing we need is our gits for friends snappin' a pic of you staring at my chest and sending that one to your mum."

"If mother were to receive a picture of me staring at your chest, I'm sure I'd go home after graduation to her planning our wedding."

You scoff. "I doubt you'd have to wait that long. I'm pretty sure your mother has been plotting since you introduced us."

"Well they do say that your mother is always right."

Rolling your eyes, you throw your elbow into Draco's side before unclasping your hands since you were about to head in different directions anyway. "Draco Malfoy, you are not going to let your mother do all the hard work for you. Now go get dressed, while I do the same, and ask me out properly. Maybe then I'll actually let you get a peek at what color my knickers are since you and the boys were always placing bets on them." Draco's jaw drops open and you smirk at him. "Tick tock, Malfoy. The sooner you get dressed and ask me, the sooner the real fun can start."

[lustagel]

can you please write smut about dexter i LOVED the riding one i ate that shit up

of course! this is also for the other person that asked! :3 first fic of the year! sorry it took so long :((

he doesn’t see you much anymore. with his job eating up his noon hours, and killing his latest murder at night, he has to admit he’s yearning. but he realizes, maybe too late, how much—how badly he’s missed this—until the morning sun is cracking through the blinds of his apartment and his cock is halfway into you, your skin is soft against his and he’s in complete control of how much cock he’s giving you. no, control has never been his problem. but now, with you wrapped around him, he’s finally allowing himself to forget.

it’s annoying, really, how forgetful he gets when he’s with you— how careless he gets. “more, dex. please.” you never have to beg much, because of how easily he caves, giving in to your voice. he hides in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and shaky against your skin, his hair tickling your face. your fingers trail through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, where they meet the fullness of his hair, soothing and anchoring him as if you know he needs it, before adding soft kisses to the shape of his ear. his cock fills you up without much room for anything else, as always, and you never complain despite your whines and body shivers.

you take him in every way, and he wonders, in the moments when his mind isn’t entirely lost in you, if he could ever do the same. the thought doesn’t last long before he’s spilling inside of you and you’re squeezing onto him. his movements slow, his focus narrowing to the way your body fits against his, the softness of your touch. he sighs, his eyes falling shut to enjoy the way you completely consume him.

so many things have been trying to keep him away from you— away from this feeling, but he just doesn’t want to escape it. and, the darkness that keeps pulling is his to keep. in his head, the words come unbidden, clear and resolute: i’ll never let it touch you. It isn’t something he’d ever say aloud—not to you, not to anyone. promises spoken can be broken. but here, in the quiet sanctuary of his own mind, it’s absolute.

[dorksideproductions]

We’re back with another installment in our ongoing fan casting series, Canon Casting! If you’re unfamiliar, we take a canon, non-film project, assign a budget to it, and cast it! Aside from our podcast, Canon Casting gets the most feedback from fans and we are so stoked you guys like them! For today’s update, I am going to keep it short and sweet, and fan cast a novel that flies under the radar for most fans, but one that is among the best – Battlefront: Twilight Company! If you’re unfamiliar with Canon Casting, here’s how it works:

We tackle a non-film project and fan cast it – with a few rules. Actors have to be alive, and age appropriate. So, in other words, you can’t cast an actor who’s passed away, even if it means a recast. Same deal with not being able to ‘time travel’ to find the perfect actor – no, Marlon Brando isn’t available… Lastly, if one of my current or previous Canon Casting choices actually gets cast in an official Star Wars film, I have to recast them. Yes, it happens, ask Thandie Newton…. Make sense, good? I also approach each Canon Casting project with what I feel is an appropriate budget, etc., as not every story will be made into a billion dollar movie. For Twilight Company I’ve chosen the route of a premium, direct-to-consumer movie (i.e. Disney Now, Netflix, HBO, Showtime, etc.) OK, let’s get to it:

There are a TON of characters in Twilight Company, but not a lot of major ones. For this update I’ve focused on the ten characters I feel made the most impact on the story and/or left the largest impression on me after running through the book a few times. Let’s start with a couple of the minor members of Twilight Company, but two that made an impression on me:

Roach and Pol ‘Charmer’ Andrisius:

Annalisse Basso asRoach

Doug Savant as Pol Charmer Andrisius

For the role of recovering spice addict and new Twilight Company ‘fresh meat’ recruit Roach, I tapped up-and-coming actress Analisse Basso. I recently watched Electric Dreams on Amazon Prime, and while the series itself was up-and-down, I loved Annalisse’s performance in the episode Safe and Sound. The role of Roach is small-but-important, and I have no doubts that Annalisse will be amazing playing the part. For veteran company member Pol ‘Charmer’ Andrisius, I went with a leftfield kind of choice (which I’m known to do..) in Doug Savant. Charmer is a battle-hardened solder for the Rebellion who’s good looks were marred by an explosion a few years back. While he still carries the nickname Charmer, it’s obvious those days are long past for him. I’ve always liked Savant, sue me. Based on his previous work I have no doubts that he will step right into the role of Charmer and perform admirably.

Gadren and Brand:

Terry Crews as Gadren

Aisha Hinds as Brand

For the pivotal roles of Brand and Gadren, two of Twilight Company’s veteran members, I am tapping Aisha Hinds and Terry Crews (in a voice/mo-cap performance). Brand, the former bounty hunter-turned rebel, and Gadren, the gruff Besalisk warrior, both play important roles in not only the action but also the character arc and development of our main protagonist, Hazram Namir (more on him in a bit). I first came across Hinds in True Blood, and quite frankly she’s the first actress that came to mind when I was listening to the Twilight Company audiobook. Brand is a reluctant leader who does so by example, and I would be stoked to have Hinds in this role. Since a Besalisk is a large, four-armed alien (think Dexter Jettster from Attack of the Clones), the character of Gadren would certainly have to be brought to life via motion capture. In the audiobook Gadren is Namir’s compass in regards to how and when to do the right thing. And although Jonathan Davis’ (the narrator of the audiobook) performance is deep and commanding, I decided to go a slightly different route and tap retired NFL player and an accomplished actor in his own right, Terry Crews. I think Crews would deliver on both the gruff mentor role that Gadren provides to Namir, but would also lighten the role up a bit from the portrayal in the audiobook. If you follow Canon Casting you know that I will take a chance out of left field once in a while, and this would probably qualify here.

Thara Nyende:

Taylor Hickson as Thara Nyende

Thara Nyende was a stormtrooper on her homeworld of Sullust and is yet another prime example of allowing the readers to get inside the head of the everyday men and women under the employ and in service of the Empire, something the stable of authors Lucasfilm is employing for their new canon stories is excelling at. We see that she is shunned by many of the locals of Sullust who oppose the oppression of the Empire, yet still feels a sense of duty to fulfill what she believes is right. In the end, it blows up in her face and Nyende is left to face some hard truths about war and the galaxy… For this role, I went with up-and-coming actress Taylor Hickson, best known for her role in the TV series Aftermath. I would love to see the lives of female troopers and officers explored a bit deeper in future on-screen Star Wars projects, and for our Canon Casting series Taylor as Thara would be a great place to start!

Micha ‘Howl’ Evon:

Scott Glenn as Micha Howl Evon

As the battle-hardened founding member and leader of Twilight Company, Micha ‘Howl’ Evon, I went with the no-brainer choice of veteran screen and film actor Scott Glenn. Glenn needs absolutely no introduction, and he’s the very first name and face that came to mind when I first heard Jonathan Davis’ portrayal of the reserved and calculating Captain. Our main protagonist, Hazram Namir, doesn’t always understand how and why Howl made decisions for Twilight Company, and it was this brand of leadership that gives our hero the foundation he needs to step in and lead the battalion once Howl is cut down at Echo Base on Hoth by none other than Darth Vader. Hell, if any actor in Hollywood deserves an on-screen death by the most famous Dark Lord of the Sith in the galaxy it’s Scott Glenn!

Prelate Verge and Captain Tabor Seitaron:

Freddie Highmore as Prelate Verge

Mitch Pileggi as Tabor Seitaron

Now we are getting down to the meat and potatoes of this edition of Canon Casting, as we tackle the two main antagonists of the book, the young Prelate Verge and the former Academy Instructor and present Captain, Tabor Seitaron. The latter was easy – as I love Mitch Pileggi. The man needs no introduction to any fans of the sci-fi genre, as he portrayed FBI Director Skinner on The X-Files for a decade. Seitaron is a man who is at the end of his career and certainly doesn’t like being put under the incredibly young and ambitious Prelate Verge, at least at first. However, as the story progresses he learns to appreciate and respect the youthful leader but has to make a difficult decision in the end regarding that relationship… And that leaves us with Prelate Verge. Young. Very young. Brash. Ambitious the point of considering to scar is visage to more closely resemble Emperor Palpatine. I had a few actors in mind for this role, but I decided Freddie Highmore of Bates Motel fame was the man for the job. Equal parts babyfaced and psychotic in his portrayal of Norman Bates on the show, there is no doubt in my mind he would crush it in the role of Verge.

Governor Everi Chalis:

Lara Pulver as Governor Everi Chalis

I absolutely love the character of Everi Chalis. In fact, she’s one of my favorite new characters created within the rebooted canon. Beautiful, cunning, and scorned, the former member of the Imperial Ruling Council and Governor of Haidoral Prime, Chalis is a force to be reckoned with – a force who’s introduction into Twilight Company’s ranks wreaks havoc on the destiny of the battalion and its members. For this role, I chose Lara Pulver, who I first saw playing Irene Adler on Sherlock opposite Benedict Cumberbatch. Her initial episode of that show is quite possibly one of the best entries of any television show in history, and I immediately thought of her when I heard the part of Everi Chalis for the first time – so much so that I don’t think I even considered anyone else! For this role, you have to have a beautiful actress that equal parts vulnerable and ruthless, and Pulver is THE choice. Period.

Hazram Namir:

Ricky Whittle as Hazram Namir

The role of Hazram Namir, the main character in Battlefront: Twilight Company, goes to Ricky Whittle. Best known for his roles on The 100 and American Gods, Whittle is, in my opinion, the best choice for Namir. Hailing from the war-torn world of Crucival, Namir joins Twilight Company after a gruesome battle on his homeworld left him with nothing left to fight for there. A capable soldier, Namir learns leadership as the novel progresses, eventually assuming control of Twilight Company after its leadership is decimated on Hoth. Whittle has the combination of rugged good looks, charisma, and an edge to bring the role of Namir to life on the screen, and I for one would absolutely love to see it happen!

There it is, short and sweet – my Canon Casting of Battlefront: Twilight Company. As I mentioned this book has really flown under the radar for most fans, even those who are all-in on the rebooted canon, and that’s a shame. I for one loved getting down and dirty with the members of Twilight Company, and I have little doubt you’ll enjoy the book as well. Be on the lookout in the coming weeks for a couple more additions to Canon Casting, as I have some rad stuff in the works!

~Todd

  Canon Casting – Battlefront: Twilight Company We're back with another installment in our ongoing fan casting series, Canon Casting! If you're unfamiliar, we take a canon, non-film project, assign a budget to it, and cast it!

[nestingdoves]

Come back for a quick second! I just want to know who you want nonconing who.