#dexter morgan x reader

[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

[c0ffinshit]

Hello, You. (Dexter Morgan x Stalker!Reader) PROLOGUE

a/n: hello, you. (get it? hehe). ANYWAYS sorry i've been gone for a while. i've literally been depressed for like months but I'M OKAY NOW. i promise. so, in honor of my mental health being good now, i wrote this story about a reader who REALLY needs to see a doctor. word count: 1,466 warnings: dead dove: do not eat, mentions of attempted rape (and rape in general), assault, borderline psychopath reader, stalking, like one mention of abortion, joe goldberg core

Hello, you. Dexter Morgan, you sick and beautiful freak of nature. I know what you’ve done. I’ll stay quiet for now since I’m such a good girlfriend. Well, about the girlfriend part. You don’t know yet. But you will soon, my love.

I would tell you how long I’ve been following you, but I fear it would make you more likely to run the other way. But the thing about that is I don’t want you gone yet. You don’t know yet that you desire me to. The same way I enjoy and crave you.

Ever since Rita died, your life has been fading colors, Dexter. You lack a desire, a need to kill, and feel that release. And I understand that better than anyone. Sure, the context may differ for us, but it always leads down the same path. You don’t have that drive, but I do. And more importantly, I want to give you that purpose you feel you lack. I’ve done everything to get your eyes to meet mine, but everything never works. It’s like I’m some piece of glass you can ignore. You want to look past me, Dexter, but I find that incredibly flustering when I’m standing there. I’ve quit jobs at places frequently and wore heavy makeup and ugly clothes, all for you. You can’t ignore me forever, Dexter.

Now I sit in a nearly empty store, just for you. It’s like I said, you can’t ignore me for long.

The store is bland and uninteresting, a place I would never expect you to be. Of course, this is where you’ll see me finally. You wouldn’t be able to unsee me. I’ve dyed my hair and changed my appearance. It’ll be hard to recognize me of the changes I’ve made. I know you’ll think: I’ve seen this girl before, but I can’t place where. But the truth is that you’ve noticed me in everything your eyes have touched. At supermarkets and malls, where I just watch you and your children enjoy a day out together. Then, your wife was murdered brutally by the Trinity Killer. Now, did I have connections to the Trinity Killer to cause her death? No, unfortunately. The death of your wife was still all him. But I quickly struck when I knew it was my time to shine. The children, not including Harrison, were finally gone. Now that I can manage. You, Harrison, and I could finally be the perfect family together.

But you had to make things complicated. First, it was Lila West. Now, I don’t like cheaters, Dexter. But here’s the thing about that. It's hard to compare all of your actions and say that cheating on your wife is the worst of them.

She was a serial arsonist. Lila didn’t understand anything about you, but she was good at taking care of your so-called addiction to heroin. You told her what she wanted to comprehend. Lila tried to save you when you were unsavable in her eyes. She wanted to save the unsavable.

Next thing you know, she’s off to France after almost killing you and Rita’s children in a house fire. She ran from you when you didn’t choose her over your wife. Pathetic, honestly. As much as I can say that I would do the same, I would be wrong. Dexter, I’ve known you for years now. We were coming up on our fourth year together. My fourth year in your life without you knowing of my existence.

Then that girl came into your life. What’s her name?

Oh, right, Lumen—the poor girl from Minnesota who sweetly begged for your help in the killing of her rapists. As much as she got in my way, I will admit, I did like her for you.

If I failed to exist, you would've destined to be with her. How funny fate works, though, since she left your sight in the blink of an eye. Was that my doing? For the most part, it was all her. Lucky me that I didn’t have to do anything before she told you that her dark passenger had left her and how she finally managed to heal from the torment. It's funny how someone so tortured by her past could move on so quickly, unlike you, who seems forever stuck in that cargo container.

My point is every girl in your life has left you in some capacity.

And the only male figure in your life failed you. I, however, understand that you don’t need saving or fixing. Killing is a part of you. Harry made that very clear to you. He tried to save you by shaping you into a hero. But as we both know, that didn’t last very long.

Now you’re here in Iron Lake, New York. Ten years clear from killings. I’m sitting outside the homely yet bland store, waiting for you to leave. Yes, I plan to follow you home. But I have a good reason. Tonight’s the night I tell you of the accident you saved me from, how you caught the man that could’ve killed me that very night. You rescued me by slaughtering him.

You probably don’t remember that night. I don’t blame you for that. It was just another kill for you. But allow me to enlighten you.

It was when you were still in Miami, November 1st, about nine at night.

I was leaving a bar after another sad night alone. A man follows me out of the bar. I can’t remember his name or his face. You would be better at recognizing his name and his face than me. All I do recall is someone grabbing me as I left, pulling me into an alley. His hand covered my screams, his other holding a hunting knife to my throat.

"Shut the fuck up, or this goes straight through your fucking neck." The man threatened, pressing the knife deeper into my neck.

I’d be powerless my whole life, always a second choice, but I never pled for what happened to me. But I don’t blame him for what he targeted me—a vulnerable young woman leaving a bar in early November. It’s a recipe for murder.

My voice tries to scream out more, my body thrashing against his. The man's grip moves away from my mouth, moving down my body. I feel tears swell in my eyes as his hand pulls up my skirt and pulls down my panties. I knew where this was going, and I was terrified. I couldn’t afford a police investigation or an abortion. I would have to carry the baby, that fucking rape baby.

Suddenly, the knife he was holding drops out of his hand. His threatening pleas of my silence turn hushed as I hear his body thud against the pavement. The loose rocks and debris scratch against his body as you drag him away. My eyes are shut tight, too scared to open them. But I knew it was you, the Bay Harbor Butcher. Things like this were happening all over the city. Stories of your heroism, saving all walks of life. You were a hero, never the villain. I just never thought it would happen to me.

The dragging briefly turns shushed as I feel your eyes on me. "Go. Run far." You say in a hushed tone.

My eyes shoot open, and it feels like my feet think for me. I do as you say. I ran, and I ran fast. My feet and lungs held my body as upright as they could. Finally, I reached a gas station near my apartment before I became tired. I ran five miles the night, just on adrenaline alone.

That’s how you saved my life that night, Dexter. Three words. You had given me a purpose and something to fight for.

It wasn’t hard to find you after that. I searched in forums across the internet, talking of this Bay Harbor Butcher persona of yours. Of course, I never encountered you on any of those, which I should’ve figured. So, my search efforts had become ten times harder. So, I did what any logical person would do and found patterns within your murders, all criminals who either went under the radar or were recently released. You try to save the people, like some sick and twisted Batman. When, if anything, you follow closer to Bateman than the caped crusader. I did what a cop or detective couldn’t have done in a year. After all that time and effort, I found your name and shady Iron Lake cabin: Dexter Morgan, a man in the countryside with a girlfriend who's a cop. Shame for her since she won’t live to hear my declaration. But even if she does, she won’t like what she hears.

#dexter morgan #dexter showtime #michael c hall #dexter morgan x reader #send help #i want him #dead dove do not eat

[congratzams]

𝖎���𝖈𝖚𝖇𝖚𝖘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: dexter morgan

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: dexter had to save his own skin and you had a little bit too much of faith in him; fake priest!dex

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: church related themes, mentions of somnophilia

𝐀/𝐍: bear with me, I've only watched one season of Dexter but I've fallen hard for the character and there's so little content of him 😭 also, I'm far from religious so the details might be a bit off for those who attend the church

Dexter only became a priest because he had to; his vigilante activities were discovered and he had to save his own skin. At that moment, a small town far away from Miami seemed like a good choice. 

Oh, and how people were too trusting of him once he stepped into the unknown territory. A couple smiles here and there, some occasional name-drops and all was good. Soon enough, he became a wolf in sheep's clothing. Who would dare to suspect a priest?

Sure, he had to do his own research before taking the role, but it was not as difficult as other things he had to learn. Camouflage was one of the many skills he had mastered in order to survive.

But you, oh, sweet and ingenue you. You had to show up and put his plans to the test. You always stayed behind after masses, even during late hours, seeking advice from his priest persona.

And it almost seemed like you wanted Dex to look at your manicured fingers toying with the hem of your pastel pink skirt. Maybe you weren't so naïve as he initially thought.

But the suspicion could've been only a part of Dexter's own twisted thoughts, stirring something up in the deepest parts of his mind. That way, your next encounters could've been summarized as his eyes marked by a new and dark glisten, especially whenever he looked at you during the mass or when you got too close to him while sharing your worries. Dexter certainly did not put the ‘Holy’ in ‘Holy Father'.

Soon, your confessions began to approach this certain ‘warm’ feeling in your womb and impure thoughts and impulses — which you believed to be the devil's work. Dexter couldn't dare to risk his disguise and have you all for himself, even when there was a suffocated plea written all over your eyes and your will seemed to weaken the more you asked for his help.

So he requested you knelt in front of him and confessed to him all of your sins. To see your chest heaving with every word you said, oh, he felt like the Lord himself.

He could also see with such clarity the ones involved in your fantasies: a certain red-headed that forces the lady to succumb to lust. And to that, his eyes stared deep into yours, locked in place, as if you were his new prey.

“Father, I think I may be under the influence of an incubus…”

Dexter, as the priest, seemed to give it a thought. “Do you feel like this creature has sexual intercourse while you sleep?”

You shook your head before his voice reached your ears, now deep and full of maliciousness. Maybe his dark passenger should pay you a visit.

“Would you like it to?”

#dexter morgan imagines #dexter morgan x reader #dexter morgan

[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

[cuntghoulie]

Intro + Requests

Miasmatically = cuntghoulie

Hi, I’m Grey! I’m 20 years old, I go by any pronouns! I’m also a writer, and want to start writing for some of my favorite characters!

All readers are GN unless otherwise specified.

Requests: OPEN

Characters I will write for:

Dexter Morgan (Dexter)

Bo Sinclair (House of Wax)

Pinhead (Hellraiser)

Tiffany Valentine (Bride of Chucky)

The Man (Hush)

Baby Firefly (House of 1000 Corpses)

Otis Driftwood (House of 1000 Corpses)

Art the Clown (Terrifier)

The Driller Killer (Slumber Party Massacre 2)

Ash Williams (Evil Dead)

Amanda Young (Saw)

Josef (Creep)

The Lost Boys (The Lost Boys)

Father Paul Hill/Msgr. John Pruitt (Midnight Mass)

Frank Castle/The Punisher (MCU)

Dean Winchester (SPN)

Sam Winchester (SPN)

Castiel (SPN)

Crowley (SPN)

Jack Delroy (Late Night with the Devil)

Kurt Kunkle (Spree)

Billy Loomis (Scream)

Stu Macher (Scream)

Mark Hoffman (Saw)

What I will not write:

SA, DD/LG, p/do shit, etc.

Everything else is fair game, these are murderers for god’s sake.

Yes i’m just writing for my faves, n what about it

#grey writes stuff #slasher x reader #slasher x you #Dexter Morgan #dexter morgan x reader #bo sinclair x reader #the lost boys #lost boys x reader #otis driftwood x reader #the driller killer x reader #slumber party massacre 2 #bo sinclair #bride of chucky #tiffany valentine x reader #house of 1000 corpses #house of wax 2005 #baby firefly x reader #hush movie #the man hush x reader #josef x reader #creep movie #ash williams #ash williams x reader #evil dead #pinhead x reader #hellraiser

[sanctum-of-ramshackle]

You know, there's something that's been on my mind lately. What if Yuu was like Dexter Morgan from "Dexter"?

[OOC]: Hi! Writer here. Yeah…MC/Yuu being like Dexter Morgan sounds like an interesting concept. I mean the show itself is extremely mature with both homicidal and…other elements.

Let’s just focus on the murder! Wow. That sounds terrible out of context…

So about MC/Yuu being like Dexter Morgan, that’s gonna raise suspicions around NRC as almost everyone in the magical academy is guilty of something. Though I’m sure MC/Yuu Morgan may understand these students and friends of theirs are just acting like how normal teenagers behave.

Except I’m thinking whenever they defeat an Overblot battle and learn how the Dorm Leaders were the way they are, there’s gonna be blood shed.

[WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS. DNI IF YOU’RE UNDER 18!]

[I REPEAT! DNI IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 OR SO HELP ME YOU’LL BE DISGUSTED FROM WHAT I WRITTEN DOWN BELOW!]

MC/Yuu Morgan is meticulous when it comes to deposing human bodies and there is a lot of victims on their list of people who harmed their friends.

I don’t think I can write everything as there’s obstacles like Royal guards, high magical security and so on, but I can give an example to how MC/Yuu Morgan does their duty.

[Example: Dr. Rosehearts a.k.a. Riddle’s Mother from HELL]

(I hate her so much because she’s a prime example of the Authoritarian Parenting style.)

If MC/Yuu were able to travel to the Queendom of Roses, they need to be equipped with whatever sharp instruments they can find and supplies for keeping blood stains off of surfaces.

Also finding drugs to incapacitate their first victim in another strange world, Mama Rosehearts from the darkest corner of the Underworld.

They would sneak inside the Rosehearts Residence and if she’s still awake, they’ll quickly inject her with a syringe with the drugs from earlier.

Next cover the kitchen area in plastic, set up the surgical tools and other handy equipments to butcher the remains.

Also the laboratory glass sheets for collecting biological samples. (Blood samples, to be exact.)

Then they strip and tie the body down on the kitchen table.

Dr. Rosehearts: *Wakes up perplexed* Hm?

MC/Yuu Morgan: *In a monotone voice* Oh look. You’re finally awake. *Pulls out their scalpel*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Gagged with tape sealed on her lips shut* What is the meaning of this?!!

MC/Yuu Morgan: Do you know why you’re stuck like this? *Cuts her cheek as it bleeds*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Winces*

MC/Yuu Morgan: *Takes the blood sample as their reminder* You forced your son to be in misery. You took away what every child deserves. A childhood. A happier, safe kind. I have murdered plenty of those kinds of people back home. *Holds their scalpel against her neck* I hope your choices are what is best for you, not him. *Pulls their tool away*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Sighs in relief*

MC/Yuu Morgan: *Pulls out a huge cleaver*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Muffled screams*

MC/Yuu Morgan: Shhh…It’ll be over soon. Or now. *Swings the cleaver down and chops right in the neck*

[The head and the body are severed, pools of blood spills off the table and on the floor shielded with plastic. With 10 seconds of remaining consciousness, Dr. Rosehearts can only see a haunting glare of the conditioned serial killer.]

MC/Yuu Morgan: “Off with your head.” Seems appropriate in Riddle’s case.

They would hack up the body like an anatomical puzzle game and stuff them in trash bags with tons of weights to prevent floating. Like what Dexter did filling his bags of victims with rocks.

MC/Yuu would throw them in the ocean, hoping no Mer-Creatures would scavenge through.

The news broke out of Riddle’s mother going missing for a week.

Nobody knows it was the Ramshackle Prefect responsible for the disappearance.

Almost all of the cases of missing people and horrific threats were caused by the unassuming magicless Ramshackle Prefect.

Now if there is an ending for MC/Yuu Morgan, they’ll probably change their name and identity like in Dexter: New Blood and try to pass on from their past actions, but keep coming back.

That concludes if MC/Yuu acts, behaves and pursue like Dexter Morgan.

#The Master of Sorcery answers #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst au #Dexter #Dexter: New Blood #Dexter Morgan #MC Morgan #Yuu Morgan #twisted wonderland mc #twst mc #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

[aterimber]

Looking for something new to read?

Look no further than my Patreon! I post new short stories every 2 weeks and already have 100+ just waiting to be read!

#SPN #SPN Fanfiction #Supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #Dexter #Dexter fanfiction #Wee!Chesters #Destiel #DeanxReader #Dean x Reader #xReader #Dexter Morgan #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Cas #Castiel #Taylor Winchester #short stories #indie author #Canadian author #Ater Imber #support small authors #support small creators #authors #fiction #fluff #funny stories #Patreon #Patreon Creator

[southern-fried-simpin]

Sup Y’all here’s the Characters I write for and other stuff

Updated 3/2/2024

Jerome Valeska

Jonathan Crane

Jervis Tetch

Edward Nygma

Harvey Bullock

Bruce Wayne

Alfred Pennyworth

Lucius Fox

Darkiplier

Antisepticeye

Dexter Morgan

Kano ( from Mortal Kombat)

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Will probably add more later but that’s all for now 🤙🏼

#jerome valeska #jonathan crane #harvey bullock #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #Darkiplier #antisepticeye #dexter morgan #kano mk #x reader #simpbur #fics #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin vox

[mattsturniolosmuse]

You're Like Me

Young Dexter Morgan x Reader

Summary: You are also a serial killer, for the same reason as Dexter. You only kill people who deserve to be killed. When Dexter gets bullied, you stick up for him, starting a friendship.

Warnings: SMUT, oral male receiving, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex)

"Look! It's Dreadful Dexter!" Someone says, pointing to Dexter and laughing.

You looked over. Dexter was sitting at a picnic table, picking at his lunch. You felt bad for him. He was always a target for being picked on. He was just so much different from everybody else.

"Hey, leave him alone, won't you?" You call towards the bully. He looks at you and chuckles.

"What're you going to do about it, Miss Prissy?" He asked, crossing his arms.

You could do lots of things. Usually involving a roll of duct tape and a chainsaw.

"If only you knew." You say. He laughs and walks away, picking up a basketball off of the court.

You approach Dexter.

"Hey, Dex." You say. He smiles shyly.

"Hi. And... thanks." He says, packing up his lunch.

"No problem. Want to walk to class together?" You ask. He nods. He was in your biology class, and he was really smart. Right now, you were doing dissections, which you and him seem to be the only ones who enjoy it.

The walk to class was pretty much silent. You looked at him. His long hair was brushing over his face, and he was biting his lips.

You had to admit, he was pretty cute.

"You want to hang out after school today?" You ask to break the silence.

He shakes his head. "Sorry, I have... something to do."

You nod.

"Tomorrow after school?" He says instead. You smile and nod. You got to class, and you find your desk, and he finds his.

>>>><<<<

You were in the forest just outside Miami, looking for some new spots to take your victims. After an hour, you had found an old shack.

Perfect. You thought to yourself.

But when you entered the front, you heard voices coming from inside. You froze.

"What about her? Remember her?" A familiar voice said.

"No- no! I swear!" Another voice said, trembling. Then it started screaming.

You went further into the shack. Layers of plastic sheet covered the walls. And then you see him.

Dexter standing over the naked body of an older man, who was duct taped to a table. A saw was slicing through the mans arm.

Dexter jumps when he sees you.

"Y/N? I-i can explain!" He says, looking at you with fear in his eyes.

You just smile.

"Dex, you're doing it wrong." You say, taking the saw from him.

"You have to cut in a smooth motion, tip to blade. It helps make a cleaner cut and takes out less blood." You say, demonstrating.

Dexter looks at you.

"You're like me." He says, lips barely parting to say the words. You nod and blush, looking down.

He takes a step closer to you, and your bodies are touching. You look up into his bright blue eyes. But they aren't bright anymore.

Soon enough his lips are on yours. You freeze, not knowing what to do or how to do it. But soon enough, you're kissing back, your hands in his hair.

Dexter tilts his head, so you do the same, the opposite way. His hands trail down your sides and rest on your waist. He squeezes gently and you gasp. Dexter takes this opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. He spins you around and pushes you against the wooden wall behind him.

"Jump." He says, his voice deep. You obey, jumping. He catches you and wraps your legs around his waist, still pushing you up against the wall.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby." He says, his lips moving to your neck. He leaves a few love bites across your throat and jaw. You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he pauses to lift it over his head and off of his body.

His lips attack yours again, his tongue forcing its way past your lips. You trail your hands down his stomach. He doesn't have abs, but he's still in good shape.

Dexter's hands fumble with the strings of your sweatpants. He finally gets them off, and his hand rubs circles through the fabric of your underwear. You moan slightly and throw your head back.

"W-wait, Dex." You say, looking him in the eyes.

"You ok?" He asks, suddenly scared.

"Yeah, I just want to try something first." You say. He puts you down and you push him against the wall, kneeling in front of him. You tug his jeans down along with his boxers.

"God, baby." He says as you kiss his tip, throbbing red and leaking precum. His body jerks as you take all of him in your mouth.

"Mmm..." He moans, tangling his hands in your hair. He tugs slightly, and you hum, sending vibrations down his dick. He pushes your head into him, and he hits the back of your throat, making you gag and drool.

"S-so good, baby." He whimpers. You feel him twitching, and not long after, his warm cum shoots down your throat. You stand up, wiping the excess off of your chin and kissing him. He turns you around once more, and you jump automatically. You grind into him, and he groans, hastily pulling your panties off. You unzip your sweater and reach your hands back to unbuckle your bra, still not breaking the sloppy kiss.

You are both now fully naked.

"You ready?" Dexter asks you, making eye contact. You nod, and he pushes himself into your wet folds, letting out the loudest moan yet.

You gasp at the new feeling. Sure, you've had fingers in you before, but this was different. He was a tad bit bigger than your little fingers.

"S-so tight, baby." Dexter says, pushing in and out of you, slowly getting faster in pace.

"D-dexter! Faster, please!" You moan, nails digging into his skin. He obeys, fucking you at an inhumanly pace. His face is buried in your neck, gently kissing the skin.

His lips trail down to your breasts, leaving huge hickeys all over. He lifts one nipple into his mouth, roughly kneeding the other.

"I'm s-so close, Dex." You say, cock drunk.

"Me too." Dexter responds. His pounds started getting slower and sloppier, and soon you feel his seed shoot into you. He keeps going, waiting for you to orgasm. You clench down on him. He moans sinfully.

"Come on, baby, cum all over my cock." He whispers in your ear. You release, whimpering in his ear, toes curling.

Dexter pulls out of you and places you on the floor, handing you your clothes. You guys silently dress and he pulls you in for a hug.

"I love you. I never knew I was capable feelings until I met you." He says, kissing the top of your head.

"I love you too, Dex. Now, what are we going to do with this body?" You say, gesturing towards the bloody mess on the table.

#dextermorgan #thedarkpassenger #xreader #smut

[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

[specialinterestshows]

Enjoy the show as best you can in this latest section of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed), social anxiety

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 35 of ?): This Is My Rheality

Lying down on the couch, you try and wait an appropriate amount of time before going back to the bathroom to smoke more. You’d rather not accidentally run into Liv again after she had just walked here with you. Staring up at the ceiling, you try to prepare yourself for what you wanted to say to Rhea after the Judgment Day finished their match tonight.

“Hey, babe. Why did you invite me here if you were going to hurt me like this? Also your ex-tag-team partner is pretty hot.”

Nope.

“Hey, Rhe. From what I’ve heard, it sounds like this might be a pattern. Have you ever considered going to therapy?”

No.

“Hey, Rhea. Can we talk about what happened earlier tonight? I think it might be better if I wait until after the show to see you next time.”

… Maybe.

Sighing, you check the time and decide it’s been long enough to head back and smoke. Grabbing your bag, you walk back to the locker rooms, managing to find them again fairly easily. You quickly step inside and duck into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

Noticing your cold pack is no longer on the ground, you decide to run your hand under some cold water for a bit. Checking yourself in the mirror, you’re relieved to see the puffiness has left your eyes for the most part and fix your hair after turning off the water.

It isn’t long before you’re puffing on a bit of stress relief. Once you’ve finished the rest of your joint from earlier, you put out the roach and wait for the vent to suck out the remaining smoke before exiting.

Faintly hearing Rhea’s voice once you step back into the locker room, you scramble to duck out into the hallway and head back to the viewing room. Trying to take deep breaths, you sit on the couch, heart pounding. You were never doing this again, you decided; you were already hating having to avoid Rhea, but hearing her voice and feeling actual fear because of it was truly awful.

The television brightens as the feed changes to the live cameras near the ring. Getting comfortable, you pull one of the snacks you brought along out of your bag and watch the last few people filter into their seats in the audience before the show began.

About halfway through the show you were cursing the fact that all of the women’s matches seemed to be half as long as the men’s matches, if that. Reaching the bottom of an empty bag with your more dexterous hand, you realize you’ve eaten all of the food you brought with you. Not being particularly invested in the match that was about to start, you take your bag with you back to a place in the hall where you saw a couple vending machines to get more snacks and something to drink.

Digging out your wallet, you browse the selection and make your decisions. Somewhere down the hall you hear what sounds like an interview taking place. You don’t pay it much mind as you punch your selections into the machines, until it starts sounding less like an interview and more like a fight. Not wanting to get involved, you stuff your food into your bag and grab your drink before heading back to the viewing room.

The feed you saw on the television made you stop in your tracks as soon as you entered the room. Rhea seemed to be fighting a woman you didn’t recognize while a terrified interviewer shrunk back in the corner. Suddenly, a few other wrestlers came to the aid of the woman Rhea was pummeling, one of whom was Liv Morgan. Watching Rhea punch Liv and spit insults at her and the others made you flinch.

As soon as the feed cuts to a promo, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Doing your best to calm down, you sit on the couch again, opening and taking a sip of your drink. Bouncing your leg anxiously, you wanted to check on anyone who might be injured, but the last thing you wanted was to end up on television. You had to stay where you were until the show was done, your nervous thoughts screaming in the background.

Feeling through the items in your bag, it takes a moment before your hands close around your fidget cube. It would work for now while you stayed in the room to avoid the cameras. Pushing, turning, and clicking the various sides of the cube, you look up at the screen and focus on the sensations at your fingertips. I can do this, you assure yourself, it’ll be the end of the show before I know it and everything is going to be fine.

[end part thirty-five of ?]

Part 36: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/727213741446496256/absolute-smokeshow-part-36-of-fight-or-flight

-

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909

#wwe fanfiction #the judgment day #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x dominik mysterio #liv morgan x reader #lady!reader #weed #specialinterestshows presents #absolute smokeshow

[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

[first-edition]

Breaking Seasons

New chapter update every Teusday Thursday 

HELLO and welcome to the book before we begin this is a Spencer reid x y/n reader book. She/her pronouns however you can change thing to your liking.This book is based in the land of criminal minds so if you've watched it some things hit hard just be aware. Chapters containing graphic info such as smut or active severe violence will be labeled as such.If you want short blurbs or story's please feel free to follow my tumblr page where more content for you to read will be. You can also view this story on my Wattpad for more dexterity.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/JelsaSnowflakes1

Thank you and i hope you enjoy!

Cw- violence, mature language and speak, gore, eventual smut, fluff, angst, abuse, childhood trauma, sexual themes, vewier discretion is advised. 

Summary- When y/n takes her sick friends criminology class to take notes in the winter, she meets the guest speaker, BAU-FBI agent Spencer reid. After getting to know more about each other due to a college school related case, that ends up involving y/n herself, they naught just have each to keep warm.

Story begins under cut. Chapter 1

                                      ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Icy and winter day last nights snow fall taking a toll on the campus. Cars covered in blankets of white powder, other students and member slipping and spilling their morning Starbucks, and student being late to class as the outside campus dorms were snowed in. But in your case attending a class for your sick friend. You enter the room sitting where she would normally sit. 

"Please please please take my criminology classes for the week there's a guest speaker from the fbi and I need the notes" she begs you coughing up a storm after making you go soft and say yes. 

Waiting for the class to start your phone buzzes. A text bubble from your friend that reads,

'Thank you so much! I owe you one' 

Causes you to roll your eyes. 

The door of the room open and the so called "guest" walks in along with two other agents and what you assume to be the usual professor. All the girls gasp a fawn of the African American man who's beefier than the long term gym teacher and what seems to be the entire team.

"Hello everyone my name is SSA Derek Morgan, and this is SSA Jennifer Jareau, And that there is Dr. Spencer Reid. We're ver pleased to be here to talk to you about the BAU and what we do as profiler accept reid here will do all the talking."

Derek steps back as him and Jennifer wave and leave along with the professor leaving some girls sighing in disappointment.

"hi I'm Spencer readier you can call me doctor, or dr Reid, or Dr Spencer, or um...anyway I'll be teaching your class for the next week. I started the Bau when I was 21 although I wasn't aloud in the field until 22, I'm currently 25 and I live by myself in Quantico Virginia, I have an eidetic memory and can read 20 thousand words per-minute so if you could go around and tell me your names, age and major that would be great." He smiles putting his hands together.

A guy named Matt goes first and the train begins for a god 5-10 minutes leading up to you. You debate on telling them your real name or using your friends name but it doesn't take long before all eyes are in you and your snapped out of your thoughts by the person next to you nudging your leg.

"And you are?" Spencer asks looking up moving his hair behind his ear.

"I'm y/n l/n I'm 23 and my major is astrobiology." You answer 

Spencer frowns. Confused as everyone else before you had said criminology or something to do in the subject of Fbi workings.

"Astrobiology? The study of stars and outer earth?" He asks baffled somehow.

"Yes. Oh I'm not actually I'm this class I'm just attending for my friend, Mave Donovan she's majoring in biochem and forensics she's sick so I'm here taking notes until..she um recovers." you suddenly set conscious as everyone stares at you.

"It's nice to meet you" he says you nod the next person goes releasing some stress.

The entire class you took notes barley looking up and just listening when it came time for classes end you collected your belongings and got up following the others out unknowingly leaving your book behind. Most days you watch tv or play games in your phone or iPad but you picked up a book at the library one days and now you can't put it down. 

Half way across the campus to your car you feel a tad bit empty. Looking around yourself and in your bag, 

"Shit." The word leave your mouth ushering you to leave with urgency back to the room. Rushing back  to the door it opens abruptly. You step back quickly slipping on stray ice only to be grabbed back up into the Dr Spencer reid. 

"I'm sorry!" You both say

"Sorry I didn't realize anyone was out here." 

"Yeah no...I left my book I just came back to get it."

"You alright?" He asks 

"Slippery." You reply and pull back from him.

"By any chance is this it?" He asks holding up the copy of Romeo and Juliet. 

"Yeah, yes thank you." You say taking it and placing it in your bag. 

"Romeo an juliet Hm?" He says 

"Yeah I'm not actually one for reading but I saw it in the library and couldn't resist." 

"It was among Shakespeare's most popular plays during his lifetime and, along with Hamlet" he says 

You smile awkwardly and nod.

"Good to know" you reply.

There's a small shared silence between you two before you speak up at the buzz of your phone. 

"Sorry I'm gonna get going I'm parked at the quarter lot it's a bit of a walk." You say 

"M-mind if I walk with you I've parked there as well." He replies. You shake your head No and begin your walk with him to the lot once again. 

"So what exactly does the bau do?" You ask 

"BAU stands for behavioral analysis unit we used to be the BSU behavioral science unit but not anymore, its part of the ncbac the National center for analysis of violent crime which is also part of the cirg, critical incident response group, and um..im r-rambling I'm sorry."He apologizes and rubs his nape. 

"No, it's alright, it was interesting." You reply which makes him smile.

"U-um im a profiler. I profile people based on what murder they commit. I can see things others can't or would like to see. I study their patterns, behavior." 

"You can tell everything about someone by looking at them then" you say

"N-no well hmm?" He thinks you giggle 

"Do me." You say and stop. He turns to you. 

"Well then doctor...profile me." You reply holding your bag strap. 

"Mm well i'm not as good as Arron hotcher, my boss, but um...i can tell you have a cat by the fur on your scarf." He says 

"It's too easy to guess something else." 

"Okay by the way you wanted to get back to your car so quickly before I can tell you don't live on campus or in a dorm and you probably own a car that is on the more expensive side." He says. You nod and smile.

"And yet I can tell that you have no pets although you wish you wanted one but you can't because of how often you travel." You say 

"Well done." He smiles "you could be a profiler."

You shake your head no and look back up at him once again looking down again. 

"Again but try harder." You say he nods and observes you as your foot moves around in the snow below you. 

"Alright...you live alone, and you have for 4 years, your drawing in the snow with you foots which means you have siblings and played with them every winter, your not fond of eye contact because you keep looking down, it's due to a previous relationship between a parent who abused that privilege to look you in the eyes. By the way your phone is buzzing and you keep ignoring it. I assume it's a significant other...or ex that you don't want to see or talk to." He says waiting for your response. 

You chuckle. Beginning to walk again. 

"So...that's what you do." You reply 

He frowns. 

"You talk a lot," you smile at him. 

He chuckles and you continue your walk to the lot. After reaching it you find that you're conveniently parked next to each other. His a Prius yours, a GTR. 

"You were right Dr Reid about the cat, the car, the parents, the ex." You say. 

"What about siblings?" He asks you to press your car key to start it up to make sure it's warm. 

"My sister...passed away when we were 14." You reply. 

"Sorry." He says you shake your head. "It's alright," you say, putting your bag in your car. 

"Will I see you monday?" He asks 

"I have to take notes." You say and get in, putting on your seat belt and driving off.

View chapter 2 here

#spencer reid smut #spencer #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Crimnal #minds #Bau #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid book

[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