#dexter morgan x female reader

[happy74827]

Burning Bridges

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Upon an incident that was out of your control, Dexter comes to the realization that it wasn't just a coincidence.

WC: 1951

Category: Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort

I forgot how much I missed this show (him), so I decided to write another. It's been so long since I last wrote for him that I actually see the difference in my writing. It's wack.

『••✎••』

Dexter was many things… a brother, a son, a pro bowler, a serial killer… but what he lacked was being a good friend.

He didn't understand friendship or its value. It was something that he simply couldn't grasp. Sure, he was able to fake it well enough in order to make sure that people liked him and didn't find him too creepy or strange, but there was never any real emotional connection. In his mind, everyone was either someone he needed or someone he didn't need, and he would treat them accordingly. The only exceptions to this rule were his sister, Debra, and you.

The two of you had met back in college, having been assigned to be each other's partners for a group project. It was a poetry class and a course that Dexter hadn't really wanted to take, but a general education requirement and the promise of an easy A convinced him to at least show-up and suffer through it. Well, for a guy who had to fake every single aspect of his personality in order to fit in with society, it turned out that poetry didn’t come quite as easily as he thought it would.

He had always found the art form to be rather silly, with all the emphasis on metaphors and flowery language. There was no purpose or goal other than to be creative and artsy, and it bored him to no end. The first time you had sat down with him to discuss the project, you could tell how much he didn't want to be there, and the look of complete disinterest on his face as he tried to figure out what your poem meant was the most hilarious thing that you had seen in a while. You couldn't help but laugh, the sound of which made him sit up and give you a quizzical look.

"What?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, confused.

"Nothing," you replied, still giggling. "It's just that I can tell that you don't like poetry."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you haven't said a word; you're just sitting there, staring off into space and twirling your pencil between your fingers," you told him, and he glanced down at the utensil as if he didn't realize that he was doing that.

"Oh. Sorry, I guess," he apologized, his tone making it clear that he was actually a little annoyed at having been called out on his inattentiveness.

"That's okay. I like poetry, so I'll be happy to do most of the work," you offered, smiling sweetly, and his eyebrows raised.

And that you did. In fact, you loved it so much that you majored in English and planned on getting your Masters, while Dexter got his degree in criminology. It was a nice trade-off because while he struggled in poetry, getting down into the debts of his feelings that were nonexistent, you struggled with chemistry, unable to wrap your head around the subject no matter how hard you tried.

So, the two of you had a mutually beneficial agreement. You did all the work for the poetry class, and in exchange, he tutored you in chemistry and made sure that you got a decent grade. Once the class was over and done with, the two of you stayed friends, though you had very little in common. Dexter had no interest in books, and you had no interest in criminology. He was a loner, and you had plenty of friends. You were a romantic, and he was completely unromantic. He didn't even have a girlfriend, and you had been in three different relationships over the course of the two years that you had known him.

Still, the two of you got along well enough. You were one of the only people that Dexter could actually stand for more than five minutes, and he was the same to you. So you went out to the bar sometimes, hung out with his sister, and did your best to keep him company while also doing your best to try to set him up on dates, hoping that one of these days, he'd actually find someone. It eventually did work out when you found him Rita, but as of right now, she had broken up with him, and he was back to being a lonely bachelor which it didn't bother him much until now.

You were in the hospital, your head wrapped and bandaged like a mummy. You were apparently attacked outside the grocery store, and if it wasn’t for the small instructions he had given you for self-defense, you most likely wouldn’t have survived.

At first, Dexter didn’t think of it as anything important in terms of his line of work. He believed it to be a coincidence, a random crime in the night. But it turned into something more the night he decided to visit with some cake.

“How’s the head?” He asked as he came inside, seeing you propped up reading. Of course, you were reading.

You shrugged. “Like I’m wearing a sweater hat, but it doesn't hurt, so there's that." You paused, setting down your book and glancing at him. "I’m still salty about my groceries. Almost two hundred dollars I spent on that stuff. Gone. Wasted. Poof."

Dexter had to chuckle a bit. "Hey, I can't do much about the food, but I brought you something," he said, revealing the white box.

"Is it chocolate? If it is, I love you," you joked.

"No, it's just vanilla. But, here."

He opened the lid and showed you, and you immediately lit up.

"Awww, Dexter! You are the best friend ever," you gushed, giving him a warm smile.

He smiled back. "It's the least I could do."

He was cutting it up for you when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t seem to notice, but out in the hall, a shadow passed by the window. His body went on alert, eyes flickering towards the door. He couldn’t see much, but he could make out an elderly man with gray hair and a beard.

Dexter's face remained unchanged, though his body language betrayed him as he sat the cake knife down. He knew that look. That look in a man's eyes when he was looking at prey. This was a predator.

"Hey, uh, what was that description again? Of the man who attacked you," Dexter asked, his tone a bit distracted.

"You mean Santa Claus on drugs? That pretty much sums it up. Why?" You looked up, confused.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing."

But it was something. The man had apparently come back to finish the job, and Dexter's jaw clenched at the thought. He was already planning his death in his mind. It wouldn’t be pretty. He gave you a piece of cake, swearing that he’d be back soon before going after the man. He stopped at the lobby momentarily, informing Angel to keep an eye on you, which, of course, the cop complied with.

Angel was a good cop. He was loyal, smart, and a damn good shot. But there was one thing that made him a great cop. He cared about his city and the people in it. He would protect the innocent no matter the cost, especially when it came down to those he was closest to. He was the kind of guy who would risk his life without a second thought if it meant saving others.

This is why Dexter liked Angel and why he was the only one that he trusted with this job.

Finding the man was extremely easy on his part. Dexter already knew what the guy’s plan was, so he stuck around outside the parking lot, watching the shadows. After a few minutes, the man appeared, heading towards the entrance once again.

He never got that far.

A hand was clamped over his mouth while the other dragged him away from the double doors and towards the side of the building. Dexter didn’t pull out his knife, though, only resorting to his arms as he applied pressure against his throat. The man fought, trying to break free, but he didn't get the chance. Dexter didn’t kill him, no, not yet, but his arm was still strong, and he had no plans to let go.

“Listen closely. If you so much as look the wrong way, I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat. Understand? Nod if you do," he threatened, his voice calm and even. The man nodded, terrified, his eyes wide.

"Good," Dexter replied, “Why are you here?"

The man was quiet, but he was breathing heavily, and his eyes were watering.

"Talk. That girl, why are you after her?"

"I’m not—”

"You attacked her, and now you came back to finish the job, did you not? Who sent you?"

The man was sweating; his face was flushed and red. Dexter was pressing too hard, and his victim was starting to lose air. He didn’t care.

"Who?" He repeated.

The man choked, unable to speak.

"Last chance. Who sent you? And don't lie to me."

The man didn’t answer, and Dexter tightened his hold. That finally did it. The man began to squirm violently, trying to break free, but it was too late. His face started to turn purple, and Dexter had to adjust his grip and pull him closer.

“It wasn’t personal! I had to! I didn't have a choice! It was just a job!" He gasped out, struggling for air. “I got paid to do it. I was just doing what I was told! Please, please, don't kill me."

"Who was it?"

"I—I don’t know. It was some lady. I met her at a bar. She didn’t give her name, but he wasn’t American. She gave me ten thousand dollars and told me that the job was to attack this chick in the parking lot and make it look like an attempted robbery. Said it had to be done in a couple of days. Listen, man, I didn't want to do it. But the money—"

"What did she look like?" Dexter cut in.

"Dark hair. Young. I don't know! I don't know, I swear. She wore sunglasses the whole time. Please, don’t kill me. Please."

Suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. The Dark Passenger was roaring, the realization washing over him like cold water.

Lila.

Everything made sense now. The way she had suddenly showed up out of nowhere, the incident outside the bowling alley, her sudden interest in you. It all made sense. She was behind it. She had done it.

Dexter wanted to snap the man's neck. He wanted to rip his throat out. He wanted to take his knife and stab him over and over again, to punish him for what he had done to you, but he refrained. He had the answers he needed, and the cameras around were still running.

He dropped him and watched him collapse, gasping for air. He didn't move, too scared and in shock to do so. Dexter didn’t say a word; his anger was silent, but it was boiling beneath his skin.

He was going to kill her. He was going to hunt her down and end her, and there was no place on Earth where she could hide.

“You ever, and I mean ever, come near her again; I will tear out your spine and make you choke on it. Understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand."

Dexter didn’t say anything else; he simply walked off, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had a lot to think about.

#dexter morgan x reader #dexter #dexter series #dexter morgan x female reader #dexter x reader #dexter x female reader #debra #debra morgan #deborah morgan #dexter morgan #michael c hall #michael x hall x reader #florida #slasher #slasher fandom #dexter fanfiction #dexter fandom #dexter tv series #dexter tv #darkly dreaming dexter #angst #hurt/comfort #protective!dexter #dexter book series #fanfiction #reader #x reader #plot driven fic #heavy angst

[dancingisdangerouss]

God I need some dexter mogen headcons just enything about dexter morgen x reader I am begging you. There is not enough fan fiction about him.

It is indeed criminal how few things there are out there for him. Which is weird, because I know you hoes on here love a suave, cocky serial killer with a thing for blood, so I don’t get why he’s not more popular. Like??

Anyway. Here are some headcanons I’m pulling out of my ass:

Dexter is a Dork. If you remove the serial killer/Dark passenger vibes, he’s like just a nerd with weird fascinations. He strikes me as a very scientific guy, like you could ask him about molecules or some shit and he’ll excitedly prattle on for an hour about it.

He’s doing his best to come across as a regular guy, so he would be a very thoughtful lover. Taking literal notes down about things you like, stuff you mention wanting, etc. so he can surprise you with gifts. That adorable, doting boyfriend couldn’t possibly be a killer, right?

Dexter loves blood. We know this. It’s his life, his work, his obsession…So like a vampire, he comes a-runnin’ like a faithful puppy anytime you’re bleeding from something, just admiring the wound with a sense of great awe before sucking on it.

He’s so into it, he’ll even do what some guys do with their semen, where they spray all over the girl’s face and chest, except with his own blood. Finds it erotic to cut himself at just the right spot to make the blood mist all over you, gulping and huskily muttering about how fucking good you look like that before plowing you into the wall.

He needs a lot of reassurance. He talks about being a monster and a bad person in a flippant manner, but I think, deep down, it hurts knowing what he is. He plays it off like “oh yeah I’m a bad guy who kills bad guys, anyway, want some fries?” but I feel like he actually feels hurt and isolated by what he is, and just craves acceptance.

Dexter can be… a tad possessive and overprotective. He’s loved and lost a lot in his life, and he’s not about to lose you, too. Any guy talking to you? He’s puffing his chest and posturing, intimidating the man to leave. Someone hurting you? Even just by giving you a playful smack on the shoulder? His hand is around their wrist in a serpent’s grip, like, “you wanna lose that hand?”

As seen in the show, he doesn’t think he likes sex and acts like he’s indifferent to it, but dude is a sex fiend. He loves incorporating his kinks into it, too—assuming you know what he does in his spare time, that is. Would love to tie you down naked with plastic wrap, take a sample of your blood and lick the wound clean, and fuck you while you’re bound to the lab table, whimpering and unable to touch him back.

He’s also a very verbal guy in the bedroom. A real teasing, silver-tongued bastard who knows exactly what to say to make your knees weaken. If you have any kinks, he’ll take full advantage of that, whispering the filthiest of things into your ear. I personally think he has a really nice voice in general, and would use that to his advantage.

Aftercare. BIG into aftercare. We’ve seen with his lovers he’s very affectionate and playful, and I get the vibes from him that he would want to ensure your absolute comfort, however you prefer.

#penny for your thots #he’s so underrated tbh #hope these were something along the lines of what you’re looking for? #it’s been a while since I watched Dexter tbh #asks #anon #dexter #dexter morgan x female reader #Dexter Morgan

[ilovewhiteroses]

You cast a spell on me – Part 2.

Pairing: The Corinthian x Female Witch Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: mentions of violence; horror and adult themes

Rating: 18+

Notes: - I did some research on The Corinthian’s backstory in the Dreaming, so I could write it as accurate as possible.

One night you receive a text from The Corinthian. You call him up and it turns out that he wants to see you again...

"Ouch" you said as another stabbing pain shot through you. You are a witch, of course, but you are also a woman who has to deal with an unpleasant visitor every month. You hated these days, you always felt like shit: your uterus hurt and you always wanted to cry. To alleviate your condition, you ate lasagna and chocolate in your bed while watching Moonlighting on your TV. You loved old TV shows - like The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, The Nanny, Married with Children - because they reminded you of your childhood.

You have had quite a busy week. You went to a family gathering at your parents' beach house which has a beautiful view to the ocean; you had lunch with your publisher, where you outlined your ideas for your new book and chose the best one together; and you had dinner with one of your best friends, Cole, who worked as a photographer. Your exes introduced you to each other a few years ago and people often see you as a couple. Although you thought he was cute there was never more than friendship between you two. Cole knew almost everything about you, except one thing: who you really were. Only your family knew about it.

And since THAT night, The Corinthian, your one night stand.

You could barely concentrated on your tasks for days afterwards. You kept thinking about the mind-blowing sex; you remembered his soft hair, his kissable lips, the sight of his naked body; you felt his hands and mouth on your erogenous zones... You were so immersed in sex with him that you didn't even think of using protection, even though your previous partners all wore condoms. But you didn't panic, being a modern witch, you had a birth control potion that you made when you were 18 years old and you had to drink it within 72 hours after sex.

When you weren't thinking about his skills in bed, you were thinking about other things. You wondered what he has been doing, where does he live, if he lives anywhere at all. And does he sleep? He said he has tiny teeth where his eyes are, does he eat with them? How many people’s beds he had been in and how many of them did he kill? You felt sorry for his victims, you only hoped that he kills bad people like Dexter Morgan. But of course that's none of your business and you'd better stay out of it.

At this moment, your phone suddenly buzzed. You received a text message that said:

Hey Y/N! What's up? How is work goin'?  🕶️🦷👄🦷

You didn't have to think much, the emojis gave away who the sender of the text was, which honestly surprised you. The morning after your night together, before Corinthian left your home, he asked for your number. At first you thought about a fake phone number, but in the end you gave your own, because you knew he won't call you anyway.

As if he sensed that you were thinking of him. You got so excited that you even forgot about the pain in your lower stomach. Suddenly you didn't know what to do, text him back or call him. In the end, you decided on the second option because you wanted to hear his sexy, deep voice. You pressed the call button.

"Hello there, sexy witch! How you doin'?" Corinthian said into the phone in a seductive voice

Oh my God, his voice was invented for phone sex, you thought.

"Hi! Nothing special, I'm just resting, watching TV." you said in a light voice. "And what about you?"

"I'm relaxing. I thought of you and I thought I'd send you a text. How is writing going?" he asked with interest.

Not only did he texted to you, but he also remembered that you were a writer. Your heart began to melt at the thought.

"Well, I'm about to start writing my new book. Basic Instinct was the inspiration for it, but in my version, the man is a supernatural killer and the female character is the cop."

"I love that movie." Corinthian growled. That didn't surprise you. Paul Verhoeven's 1992 film was a great mix of erotica and thriller.

What you didn't tell him is that he inspired your male character. Of course, not the killer part, but his looks and his huge sex drive.

"That sounds great. I'll read it as soon as it comes out, but first I will sign it with you." he said kindly, You twisted your hair like a teenage girl and promised him that you would sign his copy.

"Look Y/N, I called you not only for that, but to ask...would you like to meet next Saturday? We could go for lunch or a walk." Corinthian asked.

Your heart was beating so fast you thought it would jump out of place. Of course you said yes to the invitation. Since he already knew where you live, you arranged for him to pick you up at 1 o’clock and then you wished each other good night.

Is this going to be a date or am I just trying to make myself believe that? you asked yourself. By next Saturday, your period will be over and no matter what, you'll have to wear something hot. You will take your birth control potion in a small bottle with you, because it's obvious that he invited you out with that intention. You couldn't wait for the week to pass...

The long-awaited Saturday has arrived. Not only did you start writing your new book this week, but you also made yourself to be even more desirable. You bought new sexy lingerie, went to a beauty salon for a pampering massage and had French manicure done on your nails.

You wore white shorts, a red halter neck top and black high-heeled sandals for the meeting. You looked at the clock in the living room. It’s going to be 1 in 10 minutes, so you left and waited for Corinthian outside on the sidewalk in front of your house. While you were waiting, you wondered what kind of car he might have. You could imagine an old, classic one for him, you thought that modern cars were not his style.

Your "date" arrived almost on time and you realized with satisfaction that you had guessed his car right: a 1969 Ford Mustang 302 convertible. Corinthian stopped, got out of his car and walked up to you and greeted you with a kiss.

"You look amazing!" he said complimentingly, while his hand carefully slid down your back and then stopped above your butt.

"Thanks, you look good too." you answered politely. He was wearing a grey pullover and grey dress pants. You decided to take a walk on the Venice Beach Boardwalk and then go for lunch there.

The Venice Beach Boardwalk was almost always full. No wonder, the ocean, the colorful shops, street artists and performers really attracted tourists, you and Corinthian looked at them with interest, while you told him about yourself, your previous works and being a witch. You told that your mom has two sisters and all three of them are witches who married mortal men and they only had one child each and you and your two cousins ​​are close. You also revealed that when you were young you hated being a witch, because you were different from other girls and you felt your abilities were an”unnecessary bad”. But later, as you grew up, you made peace with yourself and accepted who you are. Your mother always taught you to use your abilities responsibly, which you promised, although sometimes you used your magic in certain situations. For example, you charmed the policeman so you didn't have to pay the speeding fine or the bouncer to let you and your friends in to the club without standing in line. It seemed to you that Corinthian was really interested in your stories, and he also told you some in return. Among other things, he told that he visited the Playboy mansion once, where he participated in a foursome with another man and two women.

While you were walking in a good mood, you noticed that almost all people were staring at Corinthian, practically undressing him with their eyes. It's true that he's an extremely attractive guy, but you felt the watching eyes a little oppressive. He didn’t seem to care about them, he was listening to you the whole time like a real gentleman. After a while, you entered a nice restaurant. You ordered chicken salad, Corinthian ordered steak, and you both had chocolate mousse for dessert. He revealed that since he is a nightmare, he doesn't feel hunger, but sometimes, when the situation calls for it, he eats human food.

After lunch, you headed to Corinthian 's home in Hollywood Hills. You felt so good: the sun was shining and you were sitting in a hot guy's car. You watched him drive, you liked the sporty way he took the turns. He is crazy sexy even while driving, you thought to yourself and your imagination started to run wild... you have never done this in a convertible before, but you were trying it out to see if he would take the hint. You bit your lip, placed your hand on his inner thigh, carefully started to caress it as Corinthian raised an eyebrow.

"What's on your mind baby?" he asked, judging by his voice he seemed to be in it.

"I think you know." you replied with a big grin and he started unbuckling his belt with one hand, unbuttoning his pants and zipping them down, then taking out his cock. You groaned at the sight. You grabbed his cock and slowly moved your hand up and down it. Corinthian whimpered and you took that as encouragement. You unbuckled your seat belt and leaned into his lap. He put his right hand up on the steering wheel so you could get better access to him. You took his cock and licked it all the way from the base to the tip, then slowly started to lick there with your tongue.

"Oh baby" Corinthian sighed.

The praise fired you up. You continued like this for a while, then you carefully took him in your mouth and started sucking, moving your head up and down. You tested Corinthian to see how long he could drive like this, and although it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to concentrate, he tried to keep the vehicle under control.

"My God, it's so good..." He moaned louder and louder, and you sucked faster and faster. You were so turned on that you wanted to climb on top of him and fuck his brains out. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Baby, I have to stop or we're going to crash."

He stopped the car by the side of the road. He let go of the steering wheel, he put one hand on your head and started moving it carefully, he wanted you to take him as deep as possible in your mouth. You sucked him rhythmically and hard, his erotic moans were music to your ears.

"So good...I'm going to cum soon." he warned and soon after, it happened. You felt the hot liquid on your tongue and throat and swallowed every last drop. You licked his cock clean, sat back in your seat and wiped your lower lip with the tip of your ring finger. Corinthian 's head was still tilted back and he was gasping for air. You loved having such an effect on him. The hot, confident nightmare has completely surrendered to you. You yourself got so excited that your new underwear was almost completely soaked, but you didn't mind.

"You can take this as foreplay." you said sexily and Corinthian smiled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just...give me a few minutes...to get myself together..." Corinthian panted. After he calmed down a bit, he put his dick away and started the car engine, you continued the ride to his house. Not long after, you reached a large white gate and got out of the car. Behind the gate was a beautiful, modern house and a nice yard. Entering the house, you found yourself in the lobby, where you took off your sandals. The living room was a little further in, and to the left was the spacious kitchen and dining room. It occurred to you that the style of the house and the furnishings were similar to yours. Corinthian said there is a gym downstairs and the bedroom and bathroom are upstairs. Moving on, he led you outside to where there was an infinity pool and a jacuzzi, and a balcony where you could see all of Los Angeles.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Your home is beautiful." you replied as you took in the view from the balcony. But you didn't ask him where he got the house from, because who knows...

Corinthian walked over to you and hugged you from behind, then whispered in your ear.

"Are you in having a bath with me?" then he kissed your cheek. Your pulse skyrocketed. "Of course!"

You went upstairs to the bedroom, and from there to the right to the bathroom, where a huge corner tub faced you. Corinthian opened the tap for the warm water and poured some scented bath salt into it.

"Take your clothes off, I'll be here in a minute." and with that he disappeared, and you did as he asked. You put your clothes on a chair and sat in the foamy water. He returned with a bottle of champagne and two champagne glasses, then he quickly removed his clothes as well. You thought he would take off his sunglasses and you would see his teeth eyes, but that was not the case. You couldn't believe it. He doesn't even take them off when showering?

"Champagne? Are we celebrating?" you asked surprised.

"Yes. You." Corinthian said, sitting in the tub next to you.

"Was the blowjob that good?" you said laughing.

"Well, yes, but that's not why I brought it. We're celebrating your new book contract."

"Aww, this is so sweet of you!" you said almost touched. His attentiveness completely swept you off your feet. He poured champagne into both glasses and handed one to you.

"Let's drink to your future next bestseller and sweet royalties." Corinthian said with a smile and you toasted and drank. After drinking, you leaned back in the tub, caressed his chest with your foot. You felt at home, and he liked that too.

"Let’s hope so! I'd like to ask you something, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I've been curious since our first meeting: could you tell me a little more about yourself, where did you come from?" you asked, a little scared.

"Well, I'll tell you this once. Sandman, or as he is called in the Dreaming, Lord Morpheus made me out of sand and I am over 2,000 years old. A long time ago I have been to the Waking World once, in France, where I first ate the eye of a dissected monkey with my teeth eyes and that ignited something in me." he said darkly.

Your guess about his teeth eyes were confirmed. So he really did eat with them, just eyeballs.

"Although from the beginning I was interested in the world of humans, I tried to be the best nightmare, black mirror of humanity. I always fulfilled my task, I expected recognition, but Morpheus never praised me, and then I had enough. Finally, in the early 1900s, I left the Dreaming once and for all."

"And what did Morpheus say about that?" you asked

"He supposedly started looking for me, but then he disappeared and no one knows where he went." he replied, looking deep into your eyes and drinking from the champagne. You were glad that he was honest with you, but at the same time, you had the feeling that he might have something to do with Morpheus' disappearance, but you thought it better not to push the topic any further, so as not to ruin the mood. Instead, you put your glass on the edge of the tub, climbed into his lap and kissed him. Corinthian deepened the kiss and put down his own glass. He took the champagne bottle in his hand and poured its contents on your chest, then slowly and sensually licked it off your breasts. The movement turned you on.

”That's a waste of good champagne." you said half laughing half moaning.

"Don't worry about it, it tastes better on you." said Corinthian, kissing your neck, while pushing two fingers into you and slowly pulling them in and out. You clung to his muscular arms and enjoyed the feeling.

"Let's go to bed." he said in a sexy, raspy voice and you got out of the tub. You dried yourself and headed to the bedroom. You went in front of Corinthian and he looked at your round ass and was completely turned on. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him.

"I changed my mind, I want to fuck you here at the window while standing!" he said and he carefully pushed you towards the big glass window.

"But I'm shorter than you. Wait, I have an idea!" you teleported the sandals you left in the hall into the room and put them on. Corinthian found the thought of you wearing them while he fucked you insanely sexy. You turned towards the window, he stood behind you and started stroking himself. You put your forehead on the glass, and pushed your bottom towards him. He grabbed your hip with one hand, and with the other he put his hard cock in your pussy with a slow, firm movement. You two started to move, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts. You looked out the window. It was getting dark outside and the city was bathed in lights. It was magical and exciting to know that only a glass separated you from the world while he was fucking you. Corinthian playfully slapped your ass and you moaned. It's like he read your mind.

"Do you like that?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

"Oh yes!" you answered heatedly. You didn't really have any kinks but you did like it when a man slapped you on your butt or when you were tied up. There were a few other things and places on your imaginary sex list that you wanted to try and secretly hoped that you can do them with Corinthian.

You leaned back against his sweaty chest, he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck. You turned your head and kissed him passionately. You moved more and more wildly and your bodies fit together so perfectly as if you had always belonged together. Corinthian reached down to your clit and stimulated it, you reached back and grabbed his neck, you couldn't hold it much longer. Soon you both came with a difference of a few seconds and your legs were so weak from the orgasm that you collapsed on the bed. After your souls returned, he spoke first.

"Y/N, would you like to stay here for the night? We can order pizza and watch a movie. Or we can do something else…" he flashed his teeth with a wide smile.

"Of course!" you answered excitedly, then planted a kiss on his lips. You took a quick shower, you put on one of Corinthian 's shirts, he put on black sweatpants and while you waited for the pizza to arrive, you selected a movie. Which didn't matter, since you knew you weren't going to watch it for long anyway...

Tags: @thecorilove86​

#You cast a spell on me #fanfic #the corinthian fanfic #the corinthian & female reader #the corinthian #boyd holbrook #Sandman #smut #fluff

[keysgrave]

Wrestlers I Write For

I write for both aew and wwe now!

* indicates my favorites to write for

Keep in mind I usually only write female or gender neutral reader as they are easiest for me

I'll also write certain ships(I added those at the bottom

AEW:

Kenny Omega

Hook*

Adam Cole

Adam Page

Chuck Taylor*

Trent

MJF

Danhausen*

Kris Statlander*

Cash Wheeler

Dax Harwood

Wardlow

Kyle O'Reilly*

Orange Cassidy*

Nick Jackson

Matt Jackson*

Ricky Starks

Eddie Kingston*

Powerhouse Hobbs

Kip Sabian

Ruby Soho*

Athena

Buddy Matthews

Malakai Black

WWE:

Daniel Garcia

Jamie Hayter*

Toni Storm*

Austin Theory*

Johnny Gargano*

Drew McIntyre

Roman Reigns

Jimmy Uso*

Jey Uso*

Shayna Baszler

Indi Hartwell

Seth Rollins*

Sami Zayn

Kevin Owens

Dominik Mysterio*

Rhea Ripley*

Damian Priest*

Finn Balor*

Bayley*

Dakota Kai*

Iyo Sky (Io Shirai)

Naomi (idk if she still counts as wwe tbh)

Alexa Bliss

Asuka

Liv Morgan*

WHO I WONT WRITE FOR:

I will not write for any of the following

Sammy Guevara

Tay Conti

Anna Jay (it depends tbh, I'm willing to just not alot)

Jake Hager

Chris Jericho

Bryan Danielson (I dont like writing for him sorry)

Sting

Darby allin (I dont like writing for him)

CM Punk

Max Caster

The Miz

Dexter Lumis

Ships

Hook x Danhausen (hookhausen)

Trent x Chuck (best friends)

Dax x Cash (FTR)

Orange Cassidy x Chuck Taylor

[6rookie-writer0110]

Master List - 7

RULES --- FANDOMS 

Being Dr. Doom’s brother and dating Johnny Storm would include - 

Don’t steal my only view - Jean Grey x Reader x Scott Summers 

I hear the howling of the fire - Ralph Dibny x Female Reader x Barry Allen 

Ancient draw our map - Barry Allen x Male Reader Joker’s son 

Saturn returned many moons ago PT 1 & PT 2 - Caitlin Snow x Male Reader

We have to steal the night - Geralt of Rivia x Male Reader 

Love is written in our eyes - Melissa Benoist x Male Reader 

Winds could change - Dexter Morgan x Male Reader

The cosmos are gone forever - Conner Kent x Female Reader x M’gann

Seeing every scar attached to your soul - Bart Allen x Female Reader 

Neon words soared in the night - Rey x Finn x Reader x Poe 

Slow dance with you - Cal Kestis x Male Reader

#masterlist #master list

[dancingisdangerouss]

Heyoo, hope you're doing well!

This is a dexter morgan x fem!reader request!

Consider this, established relationship, hot smut.

That's it.

(I am starved for dexter morgan fics)

So I definitely think Dexter would 100% be into bloodplay, and hope you don't mind that I went in that direction! With his obsession with it and keeping blood trophies from his victims, it just makes sense to me.

Summary: Reader does not know her boyfriend is a serial killer, but she does discover that he has a thing for blood, and suggests they bring it into the bedroom...

Warnings: Blood/bloodplay, slight ignoring of safe words, dark content, sexual content. Dexter is a serial killer and has been known to be unfeeling for the most part, and unable to control himself at times. Read at your own discretion.

“Fuck!”

You winced and dropped the paring knife, which clattered into the sink. Vinaceous blood rose to the surface, pooling in the palm of your hand. You set aside the potato on the cutting board, cursing yourself for such a clumsy slip.

“Y/N?” Dexter called from the living room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no worries, it’s just a small cut. I think,” you hollered back, turning the faucet to the cold setting. 

Just as you eased the handle up to start the water, Dexter materialized at your side, catching your hand in his.

“Oh! Hi, babe. You scared me,” you laughed as he drew your hand closer to himself, scrutinizing the wound.

As your eyes lifted to his, a shiver spiraled down your spine. An eerie shadow had crept over his eyes, an almost hungry glint present there as he lightly squeezed your hand, watching the fresh beads of blood dribble out. You cringed.

“Dexter?”

The blood spatter analyst drew your hand up to his mouth. His tongue flicked out to lap against the slice, slowly collecting the blood as it darted across the open wound. His warm saliva stung your skin.

“Dexter! What the fuck—?”

Dexter withdrew and met your gaze, startled, as though he were just now really looking at you. That corybantic shade lifted from his eyes. 

“Shit! Sorry, Y/N, let me—” He hastily turned on the faucet, thrusting your hand beneath the cool stream. His broad shoulders shook with a nervous laugh. “I was just messin’ with you. You should’ve seen your face, it was adorable.”

You weren’t buying it. Grinning knowingly, you shut off the faucet, your hands running up and over his chest to link around his neck. “Well damn, Dex. I knew you were into blood in the streets, but I didn’t realize you liked it in the sheets.”

The poorly-hidden panic in Dexter’s face quelled. “Sorry?”

“There’s no shame in a blood kink, babe,” you reassured him with a wink. “You should’ve just told me! We need to be honest with each other if you want this relationship to work.” 

“Oh…” Dexter’s lip quirked, relief tinging his expression. It was so cute, how he seemed to think he could hide things from you. To everyone else, Dexter was an unknown—a strange, unreadable man with blank pages inside. But you’d known him long enough to pick up on his emotions. There was nothing he could hide from you.

“Sooo…” You released him, fishing a clean paring knife out of the wooden knives block. “What say you? Wanna put dinner off a bit? Maybe…” you stroked the blunt end of the knife along Dexter’s collarbone and he stiffened, “we can explore this a little more?”

Dexter’s breaths quickened. “You’d…want to do that?”

“I can’t say yet whether I’m into it or not, but…” You kissed the tip of his nose. “For you? Anything.”

Dexter’s lips crashed into yours so hard, you nearly fell backward. He slid the knife from your hand and tucked it in his back pocket, beginning to lead you carefully toward the bedroom, all the while moving his mouth feverishly with yours. 

You’d never seen him so excited before. Sure, he seemed to enjoy your sex life plenty, but you had yet to see this…animalistic side of your lover. You liked it.

Dexter kissed you all the way to the bed, only momentarily parting from you to root around in his closet for something. A shuffle of clothing and boxes later, he withdrew with a large plastic sheet in his arms.

“Well isn’t that convenient?” you teased as he spread the tarp out across the bed. “You’ve been wanting to do this for a while, haven’t you?”

Dexter chuckled, lifting you effortlessly onto the mattress as if you were made of nothing more than styrofoam. “Why else would I have giant sheets of plastic in my closet?”

Crawling atop you, he made quick work of his own shirt and belt, unzipping his pants but not yet removing them.

“You got a safe word in mind?” he asked as he retrieved the knife from his jeans.

You stared at the ceiling fan thoughtfully. “Fava beans.”

Dexter wrinkled his nose at that. “Is that a Silence of the Lambs reference?”

“Yup.”

“Isn’t that a little…morbid for this?”

You giggled, pulling him to you for another kiss. “Not when you’ve got a morbid boyfriend.”

Dexter smirked. “Fava beans it is. Quick question: How attached to that dress are you?”

“Huh?” You looked down at your handsome green sundress, which you had picked up years ago at a second-hand shop. You liked it, but it wasn’t anything special to you. “Not…not a whole lot. Why?”

With a feral grin, Dexter nudged the sharp side of the blade between your breasts, cutting a slow split down the fabric from cleavage to navel. His large hands slipped beneath the dress, ripping the last parts of the seam open to the bottom, fully exposing your undergarments.

“Ahh, okay, I can dig it,” you purred, wiggling as he began to peel your panties off. 

He had the decency to at least remove your bra and panties by hand, tossing them haphazardly over his shoulder before bringing the knife back into play. He very carefully and meticulously drew the blade along your exposed throat, tickling the skin teasingly. Dragging it down your neck, he chose a spot at your collarbone, easing the knife into your flesh just enough to let a thin line of crimson follow in its tracks.

You shivered, wincing. The knife froze in place.

“Fava beans?”

You shook your head. “Trust me, Dex. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He ran an index finger gently along the new break in your skin, smearing the blood like red fingerpaint in little circles. You had a grotesque fascination with the look on his face as he did so, his wild eyes burning like hot coals as he leaned in to dab his tongue along the streaks.

You groaned against him and his hips bucked lightly into yours, that telltale hardness scraping at your core. The knife made its way down to your belly, nipping deeper into the skin than before as he allowed more blood to bubble up to the surface. He sighed contentedly at it.

Dexter’s fingers tucked into his jeans, yanking them down the rest of the way. He kicked them off, his boxers following suit before he re-planted himself over you, pumping his length while he sucked and licked across your bloodied stomach, groaning lustfully at the taste.

He flipped you onto your back, pulling your hips up to his as he ground against your ass, the firm head of his cock nudging at your entrance. You whined, wiggling encouragingly as he circled his hard erection around your weeping slit. 

“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into the bedsheets.

His cock breached your welcoming walls, fully plunging into you in one hard, quick thrust. You both moaned in unison at the intrusion, and his teeth raked across your shoulder.

Dexter began a slow rhythm, thrusting fully in and out each time in long strokes. All the while he continued to indulge himself with the knife, leaving thin little trails of blood artfully along your back and between your shoulder blades. How he managed to steadily cut you with such precision while simultaneously fucking you from behind, you’d never know.

Between cuts, he occasionally squeezed handfuls of your flesh between his fingers, forcing more blood to rise up and trickle down from the cuts. He licked all over the punctures as he continued to strike his hips against yours, teeth even nipping at the edges of the open wounds.

Heavy panting escalated alongside harder thrusts, and he groaned throatily as he dug the knife into a spot near your upper back, piercing deeper than before.

“Dex…” Your eyes fluttered open, the pain beginning to overwhelm the pleasure. “That’s a bit much, babe.”

But Dexter continued to thrust with reckless abandon, grunting and panting as he forced the knife deeper in time with his thrusting, his eyes rolling back. You couldn’t see his face, but you almost felt the shift in the air, the change in his movements as he pummeled you. 

“Ah! Fava beans,” you whimpered, unable to handle it anymore.

Dexter said nothing verbal, still moaning deeply as he rammed into you, the knife now feeling like it was tearing through cartilage. It was almost like he had tapped into some other place inside of himself, and couldn’t even hear your cries.

“Fuck! Dexter! Fava beans, fava beans!”

As if breaking out of a hypnotic state, Dexter suddenly ripped the knife from your shoulder. Blood and cum gushed forth from flesh and cock as Dexter came hard, yelling out your name as he held himself still, hips rocking throughout his powerful orgasm.

The knife clattered to the ground and you fell forward as he released you, gasping for breath. Having snapped out of his reverie, Dexter pulled his soft cock from between your nether lips and scrambled off the bed, rushing to your side. 

“Y/N! Shit, I didn’t mean to—” He frantically grabbed his shirt off the floor, pressing it to the gaping wound on your back. “Shit. Are you all right? Don’t worry, I can stop the bleeding, it’s not deep enough for stitches or anything. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize…” 

“Clearly we need a new safeword,” you grumbled, sitting up on your hands and knees as he held the t-shirt firmly in place. “I mean, fuck, Dex, it’s almost like you’ve stabbed someone before.”

You never noticed the guilt-ridden look on his face.

#asks #requests #anonymous #slowly getting to all of these #I know I'm taking forever #dexter #dexter x reader #dexter morgan #dexter morgan x reader #dexter morgan x female reader #tw blood #tw bloodplay #tw dark #tw dubious consent #at least regarding the blood and inadvertently ignoring the safe word

[happy74827]

Dusty

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After getting a call to come into your apartment, Dexter realises you’re acting different than usual. 

WC: 822

Category: Angst

If you enjoyed, please don’t be afraid to comment and reblog!! Feedback is much appreciated.

『••✎••』

The sounds of Jim Croce circled around his ears, blaring from the old vinyl record. It resided on the old desk, spinning ‘round and ‘round. It was about as old and dusty as his sense of morals.

Time in a Bottle. It was a simple but emotional song. Whenever he heard the tune, he mostly thought of Harry, reminding him of how much he had risked for his sake. Yet, this time was different.

He didn’t think of Harry. He thought of you. 

He thought of your bright smile over the years, despite it being a rough couple of years. The way your eyes would gleam over the sight of a bookstore, dragging his wallet along with you. The picture of you in his mind could be the result of the fact that he was in your apartment, waiting for your inevitable return, or the fact that this was one of your favorite songs you owned.

Despite the reasoning, you were on his mind.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Dex.” Your voice came into play, an apologetic smile plastered on your face. “I really had to go take a—”

“No, that’s… that’s okay.” He stopped you before you finished that sentence. “You don’t gotta go into detail.”

You chuckled slightly, slowly walking over to where he stood. He couldn’t help but notice your slight nervousness, your slight hesitation as if you were intimidated. Granted, you were a shy-kind of girl — he knew that. But, this was different. You were friends since college… lab partners to be exact. It wasn’t like he never stepped foot in your apartment before. Hell… he visited you all the time.

At this point, you were as close to him as Deb was. You even visited Rita a couple of times, going out to brunch together, before the incident. Needless to say, you were crushed after that phone call from Debra. He remembered how you physically ran to the house, for miles, not being in any proximity of a car. The way you embraced him, as he sat there unable to think… even move…

So, that’s why this was weird. You never acted this way. Not towards him, anyhow.

“What’s up?” He asked you. Straightforward and effective.

“Oh… yeah,” You stammered, running a hand through your hair. “I just started this really… really sad book…”

Lie.

“Oh, really?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, leaning back slightly. Maybe it would help ease your obvious uneasiness. “What is it about?”

“…about a girl losing her family. I haven’t gotten that far.”

For the longest time he knew you tended to look away when you lied. Even without that basic knowledge, your eyes and tone gave it away. He knew people very well. It’s why he was always successful in Harry’s code. Rarely ever had he been surprised. Having known you for more than ten years, he had you down right to the point.

He spoke your name in a low tone to gather your attention, putting on his best concerned face. He witnessed your face deflate as you came to the realization that he wasn’t fooled. “What's the real reason you called me over? I know this isn’t all about some book.”

You turn to face him, his eyes — squinting and studying yours. The dark passenger was attempting to take hold of the conversation, but he had it contained. It was getting impatient, craving more and more each passing second. Your hesitation didn’t help much either.

It was then — at that moment, he recognized it. Your eyes, your once bubbly eyes were now foggy. Dusty. He knew those eyes. He stared into those eyes for years in regard to Rita, slowly watching them form and heal. But, no matter how much they’ve healed, the scars forever remained. The terror was never forgotten.

The overcoming realization caused him to lose hold of the dark passenger. A sliver of his real self came onto the display. Not enough to scare someone away, but enough to notice. Enough to notice Dexter wasn’t exactly the Dexter everyone knew.

“Who?” His voice came out in a low growl. His eyes, dark with rage.

The on-growing terror forming on your face only proved his fears. While he was screwing around with Travis Marshall, you were cowering in fear. He was neglectful, how did he not have noticed this earlier? As friends go, he was a shitty one. You needed him — that’s why you called, you've come to that realization  —  but he wasn’t there as a friend, just an outsider peaking in. 

It was clear by your face that you noticed his change in demeanor. But, shockingly, it made you relax more. You lowered your tense shoulders, looking up at him. Your pleading, begging eyes told the story. They told him everything he needed to know. Told him what you secretly wanted. All he needed now was...

“His name was Nicholas.” 

#dexter #dexter series #dexter tv series #dexter morgan #dex #dexter x reader #dexter morgan x reader #x reader #dexter morgan x female reader #debra #debra morgan #hurt/comfort #rita bennett #serial killer #darkly dreaming dexter #dexter book series

[happy74827]

A New Moon

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}

WC: 2889

Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes

Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)

『••✎••』

You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.

He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.

But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.

But maybe he was.

Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.

The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.

But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Harry was right, after all. He didn't feel. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…

Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita. But then, that relationship was different too.

It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.

It was terrifying.

Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.

It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.

You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.

Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.

He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.

It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.

Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.

You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.

It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?

But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was smart if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t

That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.

You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.

Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.

And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.

She deserved better.

The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.

And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.

He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.

His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.

Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.

It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.

It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.

And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.

You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bore into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.

But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.

You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.

It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.

It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.

Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?

But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.

So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.

It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.

Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.

The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.

Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.

Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?

Maybe he was.

You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.

The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.

You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.

He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.

“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.

His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.

At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.

The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?

You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.

And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.

The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.

But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.

It was exhilarating.

Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.

The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.

He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.

And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.

He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.

Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.

Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.

But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.

Something he couldn’t understand.

"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.

"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.

"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.

"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.

"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."

You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”

He snorted. Bold. If you only knew.

"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.

You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.

And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.

Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

A new moon.

Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.

#dexter morgan #dexter morgan x reader #dexter morgan/reader #dexter morgan x female!reader #dexter fanfiction #dexter fandom #dexter morgan x you #dexter x reader #dexter tv #dexter tv series #dexter #x reader #fanfic #reader #fanfiction #debra morgan #michael c hall #michael c hall x reader #dexter imagine #dexter morgan imagine #angel batista #fluff #first kiss #tension #dexter fanfic #dexter morgan fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher fic #slashers #darkly dreaming dexter

[happy74827]

Contagiously Human.

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Killing was always the easiest part for him, but this… you… well, as fate would have it, that created a new problem for him. {GIF Creds: brothermoser}

WC: 1881

Category: Plot-Driven, Maybe Some Fluff/Angst…?

Someone asked me if I’d ever thought about writing Biney… and well, I decided to put my thought into actual words 🤷‍♀️

Just for some minor clarification, this is pretty much a “what if” fic in which Dexter does not end his life. This being said, I picture this taking place around season 5-6 ish.

『••✎••』

Hesitation.

The thing that makes or breaks a killer. The line that separates predator from prey. It's the pause between life and death, the time a man takes to make the decision, and whether he'll live to regret it or not.

He’s never had hesitation. Not once. In fact, he relishes in it; he finds peace in knowing that he can decide one way or another and be content with either outcome. It makes him a dangerous man, unpredictable, a ticking time bomb.

His baby brother, his blood, had the disease. The disease of being too much of a good person, feeling guilt, having morals, a sense of what's right and wrong. He was weak, he hesitated, and he wasn’t even aware of how much the disease was eating him alive until that Trinity Killer came around.

He was supposed to protect his brother, save him from himself, and show him the proper way of things. The way of survival. Of the hunt. But no, Brian wasn’t there to catch him. To stop him.

So, as all good brothers do, he’s here to fix him. To set him straight and rid him of the disease. Forever.

It's an easy task, really. His little brother is so trusting and caring that he'd do anything for the ones he loved. Why not start by showing him why he shouldn't?

Because clearly, the loss of his apparent wife wasn’t enough. He needed to understand, truly and absolutely, that the world would only disappoint him. It's a harsh lesson but a necessary one.

So, that led him to you. His brother’s friend from school. The woman, aside from Dexter’s poor excuse for a sister, that his brother actually cared about.

Just like him, you were naive. Trusting, too. Friendly to everyone, completely unaware of the monsters that hid in the shadows. His brother included.

You might’ve never killed someone, but with everything else, it was clear why his brother was so interested in you. He always loved the innocent ones.

So, the question was, how would he go about it? He could take you somewhere, but the element of surprise was an important factor. You had to believe you were safe and comfortable before he could make his move.

A Debra repeat? Or a more... Unique approach. He'd think about it, plan it out, and strike at the perfect moment.

He wouldn’t hesitate, after all.

When the day presented itself, the stars had aligned, and everything was just right; he made his move. It was noon, a warm Sunday.

You were in your little bookshop, reading one of the books in your free time. Business had been slow today, as most people were enjoying the weather.

You never saw him coming. He was the type to blend into the crowd, the type that you'd see once and forget about. The type you'd pass on the street without a second thought.

He had his ways, of course, and his way was simple. A simple, kind greeting. One that had your eyes lighting up as if you'd never seen another person before.

He was charming, handsome, the perfect man to lure you in. You didn’t stand a chance.

That's what led him here, picking up your fallen book and handing it to you, watching the smile that graced your lips.

A romance novel, of course. How ironic.

"Oh, uh, thank you. That’s very kind."

You smiled, a hint of blush dusting your cheeks. Far more tame than that Debra woman, thankfully. He didn’t have to fight back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Tea and romance? Can’t say I blame you." He pulled a gentle grin, one that had you blushing further, more so of embarrassment this time.

"It's the first of a series. A favorite, actually, I’ve been rereading it." You explained, holding the book to your chest. He didn’t miss the way your thumb rubbed over the spine, fond and gentle.

Just from that, he knew. He was going to have fun with you. “Believe it or not, I read the first one too. A few months ago, actually. It was quite the page-turner. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, I swear."

You laughed, soft and airy, and for a moment, he found himself smiling genuinely. His lie was working, and he couldn’t believe it was that easy.

"I've only heard mixed reviews on it.” You spoke, moving to place the book back on the shelf. "I'm glad to hear you liked it. Marienne’s death was hard, wasn't it?"

"Very." He agreed though it was a lie. He had to pretend he cared. "It was a shame; I really enjoyed the character."

"You did?" You raised a brow, surprised. “Most people didn’t. Given that she doesn’t even exist.”

Shit.

He cleared his throat, a slight pause. He was so blinded by the idea of finally getting to his brother that he'd forgotten.

You were a reader, an author; of course, you would know the ins and outs of the story. The characters, the plot, and every little detail. Why would you not?

First rule of hunting. Don’t get cocky.

"Alright, I admit. I've been caught." He gave a small shrug, his voice holding a hint of sheepishness. Maybe you’d fall for it. “I couldn’t help myself; I figured you wouldn’t appreciate my love for fantasy books."

"Fantasy?" You tilted your head, and he knew. You bought it. You were a sucker for fantasy; you didn't like it when others looked down on them.

"I'm a bit of a nerd. Guilty pleasure."

"I didn’t peg you for the fantasy type…” You raised your eyebrow, though a smile still rested on your lips—a look of amusement.

"Really? Most people can't seem to look past the collared shirt.

"No, it's not that. It's your aura." You shook your head, and now, it was his turn to raise his brow. What the hell did that mean?

"My aura?"

"Those books in your hands..” You nodded towards his bag, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. "You're definitely not a casual reader. My guess is everything in there is a throwaway.”

"And that means...?"

"You're bullshit through and through. You don't like romance or fantasy. In fact, I think you absolutely hate it."

Oh. Oh, you clever thing. Now, he truly understood why his brother connected with you so much. You'd figured him out, and yet, you had no clue. You were clever, smarter than you let on.

"Alright,” He held his hands up in mock surrender. He was enjoying this; for once, someone could see through his façade. See his true self. It was a rush.

“If you’re so smart, what do I like then?"

"Hmm, let's see...” And just like that, you were off with him in tow. You were taking him along on a trip through the shelves, looking through the genres, searching and searching.

He was intrigued, his eyes locked on you, his ears drinking in the sound of your hums and contemplation. Your mind was running, spinning, thinking. You were truly in your element.

"Well, let's start with what I know. You like horror." You said, turning towards the horror section and picking up a book. "You seem like the type who enjoys the dark side of humanity and likes to see the bad guy win."

Damn.

He was almost impressed. Almost.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Eyes. They tell the most about a person. You’ve seen a lot, and it shows. I could tell just by looking at you. Your eyes are... Cold. Empty." You said, and it was then that he realized you were more observant than you appeared. Naivety might’ve not been a part of your personality, but trust was. You trusted a lot. Too much. “Are you a cop, by chance? You've got the whole detective thing going on."

"Prosthetist, actually." He answered, his hand reaching out and picking up a book at random. He wasn't a fan of fiction, not really. He preferred nonfiction; it was more realistic—less pointless details.

"Oh, wow, I was completely off. I didn’t expect that." You mused, looking up at him with those eyes. You had such an expressive face; it was amazing how easy you were to read. He could practically see the gears turning. How could he use this?

"Expected an axe murderer, did you?" He joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe. Wouldn’t that be a twist?" You grinned a glint of amusement in your eye. “Speaking of, that’s probably what you like. Thrillers. Those kinds of stories are full of twists and turns. No one is who they appear to be. Kinda like you, hm?"

"Ouch."

"Sorry, am I being too honest?"

"No, I like it. Keep going." He was having fun. With Debra, it was exhausting. She was so stubborn, so headstrong, she never listened. It took him about three coffees just to have enough patience to deal with her sob story.

But with you, you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t have to force himself awake or hide his boredom. He could just enjoy it, relish in the moment, and the fact that you were so easy to play with.

You pulled out three books: two thrillers and one horror. A classic and a new one. "These are what I recommend. Start with Primal Fear; that’s the one I believe you'll like the most. The first one might take you a while, but if you stick with it, the sequel will be worth it.

He reached forward, his hand brushing over yours, his touch lingering as he took the book. He purposely brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, just enough for a spark to go through your veins.

He saw the way your breath hitched, and he smirked. This was too easy.

"Thank you, you've been a great help."

"One more thing before you go." You spoke, stopping him. His eyes moved up from the book to your own, and there he saw something that made him falter.

Something that made him freeze longer than he should have.

You had a fire behind those eyes. A flame that burned with a passion, a curiosity that threatened to eat him alive. A want, a need, to get into his head. To peel him open and look inside.

Your eyes weren't cold or empty like his. They were alive. Full of life.

"Books don’t impress women,” Your voice was low, a secret, something meant only for him to hear. “It’s the passion that opens their hearts. You have nothing if you can't show it."

"I think I've misjudged you." He spoke, his hand resting on the shelf above your head. He had no choice but to lean closer, and he felt the way your breath fanned across his skin.

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're a lot more than you appear, aren’t you?"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

The question was left unanswered. He didn't give a response because, in truth, he didn't know.

He left that day not with his brother’s cure or even the thought of him. He left with three books.

Three books and the disease he believed to be immune to…

Hesitation.

[@numetalnerd2007] Since you asked, I figured this would automatically mean you were interested. At least I hope you were 💀

That being said, please be nice to me for this one since it’s my first time writing for Biney here (and I haven’t rewatched season 1 in forever), so his character probably isn’t 100% solid. It’s a work in progress 🙏✨

Also, for all my Joe Goldberg fans out there, did you catch the reference I made? I see a slight resemblance between Brian and Joe, so I wanted to sneak it in a little something. I think it’s the hair, honestly.

#brian moser #brian moser x reader #brian moser x female!reader #dexter morgan x reader #dexter x reader #also why did I just find out this man was in twilight #brian moser/reader #rudy cooper x reader #christian camargo #brian moser imagine #rudy cooper #ice truck killer #rudy cooper/reader #rudy cooper imagine #dexter fanfiction #dexter fandom #x reader #fanfic #reader #christian camargo x reader #slasher fandom #dexter s1 #fanfiction #slasher fic #dexter morgan/reader #dexter morgan imagine #dexter imagine #dexter tv series #dexter #ice truck killer x reader

[ilovewhiteroses]

I posted 57 times in 2022

That's 57 more posts than 2021!

11 posts created (19%)

46 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thecorilove86

@boydholbrookfanpage

@ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook

@ithinkwehitametaphor

@placeinthemiddleofnowhere

I tagged 56 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#boyd holbrook - 37 posts

#sandman - 21 posts

#the corinthian - 19 posts

#💕💕 - 6 posts

#❤️❤️ - 3 posts

#charlie hunnam - 2 posts

#playlist - 2 posts

#100% agree - 2 posts

#preacher - 2 posts

#same - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 106 characters

#i would be a terrible employee in an office because i would be daydreaming of this beautiful man - all day

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Feeling like sh*t, but at least my buddy is here to comfort me

3 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

#4

You cast a spell on me – Part 2.

Pairing: The Corinthian x Female Witch Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: mentions of violence; horror and adult themes

Rating: 18+

Notes: - I did some research on The Corinthian’s backstory in the Dreaming, so I could write it as accurate as possible.

 PART 1. HERE

"Ouch" you said as another stabbing pain shot through you. You are a witch, of course, but you are also a woman who has to deal with an unpleasant visitor every month. You hated these days, you always felt like shit: your uterus hurt and you always wanted to cry. To alleviate your condition, you ate lasagna and chocolate in your bed while watching Moonlighting on your TV. You loved old TV shows - like The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, The Nanny, Married with Children - because they reminded you of your childhood.

You have had quite a busy week. You went to a family gathering at your parents' beach house which has a beautiful view to the ocean; you had lunch with your publisher, where you outlined your ideas for your new book and chose the best one together; and you had dinner with one of your best friends, Cole, who worked as a photographer. Your exes introduced you to each other a few years ago and people often see you as a couple. Although you thought he was cute there was never more than friendship between you two. Cole knew almost everything about you, except one thing: who you really were. Only your family knew about it.

And since THAT night, The Corinthian, your one night stand.

You could barely concentrated on your tasks for days afterwards. You kept thinking about the mind-blowing sex; you remembered his soft hair, his kissable lips, the sight of his naked body; you felt his hands and mouth on your erogenous zones... You were so immersed in sex with him that you didn't even think of using protection, even though your previous partners all wore condoms. But you didn't panic, being a modern witch, you had a birth control potion that you made when you were 18 years old and you had to drink it within 72 hours after sex.

When you weren't thinking about his skills in bed, you were thinking about other things. You wondered what he has been doing, where does he live, if he lives anywhere at all. And does he sleep? He said he has tiny teeth where his eyes are, does he eat with them? How many people’s beds he had been in and how many of them did he kill? You felt sorry for his victims, you only hoped that he kills bad people like Dexter Morgan. But of course that's none of your business and you'd better stay out of it.

At this moment, your phone suddenly buzzed. You received a text message that said:

Hey Y/N! What's up? How is work goin'?  🕶️🦷👄🦷

You didn't have to think much, the emojis gave away who the sender of the text was, which honestly surprised you. The morning after your night together, before Corinthian left your home, he asked for your number. At first you thought about a fake phone number, but in the end you gave your own, because you knew he won't call you anyway.

As if he sensed that you were thinking of him. You got so excited that you even forgot about the pain in your lower stomach. Suddenly you didn't know what to do, text him back or call him. In the end, you decided on the second option because you wanted to hear his sexy, deep voice. You pressed the call button.

"Hello there, sexy witch! How you doin'?" Corinthian said into the phone in a seductive voice

Oh my God, his voice was invented for phone sex, you thought.

"Hi! Nothing special, I'm just resting, watching TV." you said in a light voice. "And what about you?"

"I'm relaxing. I thought of you and I thought I'd send you a text. How is writing going?" he asked with interest.

Not only did he texted to you, but he also remembered that you were a writer. Your heart began to melt at the thought.

"Well, I'm about to start writing my new book. Basic Instinct was the inspiration for it, but in my version, the man is a supernatural killer and the female character is the cop."

"I love that movie." Corinthian growled. That didn't surprise you. Paul Verhoeven's 1992 film was a great mix of erotica and thriller.

What you didn't tell him is that he inspired your male character. Of course, not the killer part, but his looks and his huge sex drive.

"That sounds great. I'll read it as soon as it comes out, but first I will sign it with you." he said kindly, You twisted your hair like a teenage girl and promised him that you would sign his copy.

"Look Y/N, I called you not only for that, but to ask...would you like to meet next Saturday? We could go for lunch or a walk." Corinthian asked.

Your heart was beating so fast you thought it would jump out of place. Of course you said yes to the invitation. Since he already knew where you live, you arranged for him to pick you up at 1 o’clock and then you wished each other good night.

Is this going to be a date or am I just trying to make myself believe that? you asked yourself. By next Saturday, your period will be over and no matter what, you'll have to wear something hot. You will take your birth control potion in a small bottle with you, because it's obvious that he invited you out with that intention. You couldn't wait for the week to pass...

The long-awaited Saturday has arrived. Not only did you start writing your new book this week, but you also made yourself to be even more desirable. You bought new sexy lingerie, went to a beauty salon for a pampering massage and had French manicure done on your nails.

You wore white shorts, a red halter neck top and black high-heeled sandals for the meeting. You looked at the clock in the living room. It’s going to be 1 in 10 minutes, so you left and waited for Corinthian outside on the sidewalk in front of your house. While you were waiting, you wondered what kind of car he might have. You could imagine an old, classic one for him, you thought that modern cars were not his style.

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4 notes - Posted December 12, 2022

#3

Serious question:

I have been wondering for a while, why people call The Corinthian ‘babygirl’? Because when I see him I think “you hot nightmare” and “I’m going to climb you like a tree” 

5 notes - Posted November 22, 2022

#2

You cast a spell on me

Pairing: The Corinthian x Female Witch Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: horror and adult themes

Rating: 18+

Notes: - This is my first fanfic, I have never written one before.              - This post from @thecorilove86​ was my main inspiration, plus I had time and I was in the mood for it so I thought I give it a shot.              - Back in the day I was a huge fan of Charmed and that inspired me to write Reader as a modern day witch.              - The inspiration for reader's apartment

 PART 2. HERE

 You are a witch in your 30s, living in Los Angeles and working as a fantasy writer. You went to a bar one night and You met The Corinthian there. You asked him his name, but he didn't tell You, so You didn’t tell him Yours either. Regardless, you found eachother attractive and after chatting a little bit, you decided to go to Your place…

 ”Would you like to drink something?” you asked your guest.

"Didn't we just come from a bar?" chuckled the handsome man with sunglasses while he took off his beige suit jacket and placed it on the bar stool in the kitchen.

"Well, I was just being polite," you said embarrassed, then took out two elegant drinking glasses from the kitchen cabinet and poured whiskey into them. You felt weird. You are usually confident with men, but your guest made you feel like you were a teenager on a date with your crush and didn't know how to behave.

"I leave it up to you. By the way, where do I find the bathroom?”

"Next to the stairs to the right"

"Thanks"

While the man left for the bathroom, you went to his jacket and started searching in it. You knew it was wrong and you would never do such a thing, but your witch instincts told you something was wrong with the guy and you better find out what it was.

And you were right.

You found a sharp knife in the inside pocket of his jacket. You were scared at first, but weren't surprised, because to tell the truth, you had already guessed at the bar that there was something else behind the hot looks. You have been in dangerous situations before, but thanks to your supernatural abilities you always survived. If this man were to attack you, you would fly him to the other end of the room with one hand movement or teleport the knife out of his hand. Still, you wanted to know his intentions. You didn't want to interrogate him like a policewoman, since after all you brought him to your apartment to have fun, so you put a little truth potion in one of the glasses of whiskey, which makes even the best liar tell the truth. When your guest returned to the kitchen, you handed him the whiskey, he sipped it and slowly began to walk around your apartment. You joined him and waited for the potion to work. The man looked at your home curiously. After the kitchen came the dining room, then a cozy living room with an L-shaped sofa and an electric fireplace, which you loved because you didn't have to cut wood for it. Your furniture was in silver and cream colours because you didn't like the dark ones.

Modern, sexy and elegant. This place is just like you, the handsome blond thought to himself. You also drank from the drink and in the meantime you wondered if the truth potion has worked, so you started asking questions. "You didn't tell me your name at the bar, but I'm curious. Who are you, what's your name?"

"My name is The Corinthian and I am a nightmare. Sandman made me and I escaped from The Dreaming so I could finally do what I wanted." the man said with complete confidence.

"Sandman? Who sprinkles magical sand onto people's eyes so they have pleasant dreams?” you asked surprised.

"Yes."

Not human. So that's why he had such an effect on you. "And what do you do?" you asked, then downed most of your drink.

"I'll sleep with anyone who's available at the moment, and I'll kill them if I have to." Corinthian said all this as naturally as if he was talking about the weather.

Although the drink already had a pleasant effect on you, Corinthian's brutal honesty affected you as if you had been hit by a car, but you tried not to show it. There were many things on your mind, but you could only ask one thing.

"Do you want to kill me too?" you asked

"Not if you don't give me a reason," Corinthian said suggestively as he sipped his drink.

As Corinthian looked at you, even though no harm could come to you, you felt both fear and desire. It's true that the man just confessed to being a murderer, but at the same time he's insanely handsome, you thought to yourself. Even though you were the witch, he cast a spell on you. There was something in him, in his being, in his aura... You had always been attracted to men with darker hair, and now you were faced with a blond guy who could pass for a model, and whose sunglasses made him even more mysterious and irresistible.

 Danger and Sex. You could best describe the man with these two words. Before your thoughts wandered to some naughtier places, you continued the conversation.

"I have to tell you something: I'm not human either, I'm a witch." you confessed.

Corinthian raised an eyebrow, you couldn't tell if he liked the answer or not.

See the full post

14 notes - Posted December 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The comparison of The Corinthian and Cassidy

Hello there! I hope everyone is doing fine! In this post I looked at the similarities and differences between The Corinthian from Netflix's Sandman and Proinsias Cassidy from AMC's Preacher (they are originally from DC comics). I did this because I love both men and I thought it would be interesting to take a little closer examination at them  😀

DISCLAIMER: This post features mentions of violence, horror and adult themes so do not read it if you are under 18! Also, spoilers for both shows.

NOTES: - I never read the comics, this post is about the show version of the characters (as it is mentioned above).   - Keep in mind that these are my views and opinions therefore they may differ from yours. - I didn't go into depths, I wrote in general terms. - At the end of the post I listed the sources that I used and helped me in this writing. - The most important: All this was written for simple fun, please, no mean comments!  😇

THE STORY: Sandman: Morpheus, the personification of dreams and one of the seven Endless, is captured in an occult ritual in 1916. After being held captive for 106 years, Dream escapes and sets out to restore order to his realm, the Dreaming.

Preacher: Jesse Custer is a hard-drinking, chain-smoking preacher who, enduring a crisis of faith, becomes infused with an extraordinary power. He embarks on a quest to better understand his new gift and literally find God, alongside his trigger-happy ex-girlfriend, Tulip, and new vampire friend, Cassidy.

THE ACTORS: Boyd Holbrook: American actor known for Narcos, Logan, The Predator. Joe Gilgun: English actor known for Misfits, This Is England, Brassic.

See the full post

21 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review