#dexter x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

happy74827 · 20 days

Text

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.

136 notes · View notes

everafterhighxreader · 2 years

Text

You're A Smart Guy

Pairing(s): Yandere! Dexter Charming x Reader / One-Sided C.A. Cupid x ????

Dexter watched you from behind the wall. You were talking to Raven Queen and Apple, though the conversation didn't seem to be going well with your actions. He looked at the roses in his hand, blushing. he was hoping you would like the pastel f/c roses, but just as he was heading towards you, Lizzie came by and cut his roses-

"Off with their heads!"

Dexter frowned, watching the roses drop to the ground. He threw away the stems, before heading in your direction and sitting down. You saw Dexter and felt bad, so you went in his direction and asked if he was alright.

He blushed when you sat by him and couldn't look at you.

"I wanted to give you some flowers, but Lizzie cut them," he whispered where you could barely hear him.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I couldn't hear you."

He repeated himself, a little louder, making you blush.

"Aww, that's sweet." You looked in the direction he had just been in to see the discarded flowers. You got up and grabbed the petals, bringing them back to the table and putting them in your bag.

"They're very pretty. I know what I can do with them," you said, smiling at Dexter, as his whole face stuttered.

"Well-Uh, yeah... I'm glad- uh, you like it- them."

You grabbed his hand, "We should go out, sometime?"

His eyes widened" YES! I mean, yeah. Uh- how about tonight?"

"Sounds lovely," you kiss his cheek, making him blush, as you walked away.

He felt some eyes glaring in his direction and he turned around to see Cupid looking at him. He did something uncharacteristic and smirked, giving her a 'I won,' look. And boy did he win.

#Dexter #Dexter Charming #Dexter Charming x Reader #Dexter x Reader #Yandere Dexter Charming #Yandere Dexter #Yandere Dexter Charming x Reader #Yandere Dexter x Reader #Ever After High #Yandere Ever After High #Yandere Ever After High x Reader #Ever After High x Reader #EAH #EAH x Reader #Yandere EAH x Reader #Yandere EAH

286 notes · View notes

dancingisdangerouss · 2 years

Note

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

288 notes · View notes

kken-kenn · 2 years

Text

# ⎯ 〚 ❝ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑 ❞ 〛

𝐫𝐞𝐪. 𝗒𝖾𝗌

𝐭𝐰. 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜. 𝗀𝗇!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝐰𝐜. 𝟦𝟨𝟫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖣𝖾𝗑𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍!

❝𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 are you doing? Dexter looks up from his spot on the bench startled by your appearance. “[Name]! Me? I’m not doing anything, I’m just watching the sun set,” Dexter gains his composure again, and rests his chin within the palm of his hand and his expression gives away something you don’t often see on the boy’s face when you’re with him.

You see sadness, and you’ll be damned if Dexter was sad when he’s with you.

Taking a seat next to him you too gaze out into the horizon, beautiful oranges and lovely shades of red cover the skies, “What’s on your mind?” You murmur, trying not to break the cal, atmosphere. “Something,” Is all he replies, turning away from you a little.

“Can I know what this "something” is?“ Leaning over you place your head against Dexter’s shoulder, and he tenses. "I promise I won’t tell,” You continue, while Dexter finally looks at you again, “There’s the handsome face I know and love.”

“Handsome?” Dexter looks at you skeptical, “You are Dexter, and don’t you dare think for one second you aren’t!” You poke at his chest playfully. “Yeah, if I was you would make this something on my mind go away,” Dexter mumbles, voice quiet.

“Dexter, can I tell you something? No — actually can I ask you something?” You sit up, moving back a little so that there is space between the two of you. “Yeah, what is it?” You turn your gaze downward, and mull over just exactly what you want to say before going further with this conversation.

“[Name]?” Dexter scans over your face, and you look back up at him, “Dexter do you like me?” Straight to the point, and Dexter does not like it all. “What?” He cries out shocked, while you just stare at him blankly. “It’s a yes or no question Dexter.”

“I mean — yeah! As a friend — well not really as just a friend — I love you — But then again I don’t love — I mean I do — I just — oh Hex I’m embarrassing myself,” he groans placing his face into his hands but you can see the tips of his ears turn ever so lightly turn a shade of pink.

“Dexter, I like you too.” You grab his hands, removing them from his face, and gaze at him shyly. “You do?” You nod as in yes, while the edges of his lips begin to quirk up and soon he’s smiling bigger than you have ever seen before, “Did Raven tell you?”

He suddenly turns suspicious, after all the rebel had been asking questions all week before he finally broke and confessed he had probably had — no, literally had the biggest crush on you in the world and all he wanted to do was explode with all these feelings whenever he saw you in the halls.

“Does it really matter, Dex?”

“No.”

⎯ 〚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝟥𝟢.𝟩.𝟤𝟤〛

#ever after high #eah #ever after high x reader #eah x reader #ever after high imagine #eah imagine #ever after high fanfic #eah fanfic #ever after high fic #eah fic #ever after high dexter #eah dexter #ever after high dexter charming #eah dexter charming #dexter #dexter charming #dexter x reader #dexter charming x reader

174 notes · View notes

thewritetofreespeech · 2 months

Note

Could I request Gojo getting huffy and puffy because he's jealous that his s/o's been baking and cooking for the students?

Of course, while everyone gets muffins, Gojo gets a whole cake for himself, so he's all smug.

It took all his training to slip past the threshold of the door undetected.

He usually didn’t need stealth for his mission. Being the strongest, he could just go in, guns blazing, get the job done, and be home by supper time. But this was different. Gojo felt like all his training as a jujutsu sorcerer had led up to this moment.

“HEY!”

Gojo flinched. So close….

“What did I tell you about keeping away from those muffins?!”

“I just want one.” Gojo whined at [Y/N]. His long fingers just inches away from his prize. If he was quick, he could just snatch one and run away. But he would never do that because he was absolutely terrified of what they might do if he actually disobeyed their order to not touch the muffins.

“Those are for the kids tomorrow because they’re going to have a long day. Honestly Satoru, everything isn’t about you.”

Gojo stood to his full height now with a sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I mean….isn’t part of the agreement on being married that I get all your sweet treats? Both baked and well….other things….” He winced at the small smack they landed on his shoulder.

“Don’t be gross. The kids are gonna have enough to deal with with the Kyoto team. Not to mention their friend coming back from the dead.”

“The Kyoto team is a bunch of nobodies.” Gojo scoffed. “And, Nobara-kun and Megumi will be so excited to see Yuji that they won’t need muffins. The sweet feeling of friendship will be all the treat they need.” He winched again when they smacked his hand away from the plate.

“I think they would prefer the muffins.”

They were putting the muffins in a box and closing the lid. Now that they were cooled there was no chance of Gojo getting one. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they put a cursed seal on it.

“If you don’t touch the muffins and be a good teacher tomorrow, and don’t fight with another from the Kyoto team, I will make you a cake to celebrate the kids passing the Goodwill event. Deal?”

His eyes began to sparkle in excitement. But then it faded as he thought for a moment on their deal. “I’m going to need some guidelines on what ‘fighting’ means. If Utahime comes after me I have to defend myself, right?”

“If you antagonize Utahime into attacking you then that doesn’t count.”

Another long pause. “I’m going to need some guidelines on what ‘antagonizing’ means before I agree.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #scenarios #imagines #imagine #[does anyone remember that episode of Dexter's Lab where his dad is obsessed with mom's muffins?]#[that's all I could think about]#😆

505 notes · View notes

2-dsimp · 1 month

Text

A/n: hey yall this is my first ever yandere collab that I did with my dear mutual @yandere-dreams-but-not-really and I’ve never knew how much fun it’d be collabing with others until I did so with them ＜3

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

Yandere company Bros

The eldest brother

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆

→ CW: Yandere tendencies, unhealthy coping methods, obsessive/possessive behavior, Judas needs a hug, internal company conflict

Synopsis: 【You were a new intern for hire at the grand Acer international company ran by the Kinzen family. And you stood out amongst your colleagues by being capable, ambitious, and dedicated to the craft! All the qualities of a true corporate slave which may have attracted some unheeded attention from the future inheritors of said company itself. Ultimately you ended up getting sucked into an internal family succession battle between the youngest and the eldest brother…Let’s just hope you make it out in ONE PIECE.】

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

【Eldest brother! Judas was never the type to believe in love at first sight. Despite his father always ranting on about how he fell for his strict mother at first glance. He never truly understood what it meant to feel a romantic love for someone. Throughout his highscool and college years he’s never had a crush or been in a relationship for that matter.】

【But all his reservations went out the window when he saw you, a well put together newbie walking past the doors of the well established business owned by him and his family. Encompassing an essence that of a fresh summer breeze which completely disarmed him.】

【Truly he thought he worked himself to death and was blessed with the sight of an angel who came down to take him away from his mundane life. Of being in his mother, Isidore’s shadow as a prominent businesswoman. Known across the world for her cutthroat business conduct.】

【Eldest brother! Judas was at a loss for words as you stepped up to him with those bright attentive eyes. And offered to help take on the loaded stacks of papers he was lugging into his office with an altruistic smile. The fact that he knew you didn’t know who he was at that time and was this naturally sweet. As opposed to everyone else who usually try coming to his aide with ulterior motives】

【Made His motherfucking heart grip at the enclosure of his rib cage at how you just politely interjected yourself in his space to go ahead and take half of his work load off of him. while he was stunned stupid too flabbergasted to even utter a sentence.】

【This socially stunted stoic man was trying his best to keep his mind afloat as he’s never been affected by such intense emotions before in his 23 years of living. He didn’t know how to act as he tended to isolate himself from his peers. In turn for studying business till his nose bled and working himself up the corporate food chain.】

【Eldest brother! Judas resembled that of a black cat who was looking in pure awe of his new fixation which wasn’t work or studying. His pristine appearance was now unkept with hairs falling flat in his face from how caught off guard he was. Finding himself mindlessly trailing after the new bubbly intern in long strides.】

【When yall reached his office he struggled to find the words to thank you. But his haywire brain opted to abruptly encase your hand in his and bring it towards his bleeding heart. as he gave you what seemed to be a death stare inherited from his mother but in reality was an expression full of gratitude, obsession, and adoration.】

【Congratulations you’ve unknowingly seduced the eldest heir of the Kinzen family. And there’s no take backsies.】

【Eldest brother!Judas is the type to be more or less clingy with his darling. Always calling them to his office to ask for “help” on some assignments. which caused onlookers to give him surprised exchanges. Since the famed hermit workaholic never came out of his dumpster fire of an office to request help of any kind.】

【He just loves seeing you breathe in his general direction. It makes him impulsively grip at the sides of ball pen till it damn near snapped in two. From how His heart is was overflowing with so much pure and genuine infatuation for you.】

【The eldest Kinzen was a ticking time bomb since he always kept everything little thing bottled up inside and never had anyone to confide to unlike his youngest brother Dexter who was a social troglodyte.】

【So as time progresses Judas spends each and every waking moment fantasizing. About what it would be to show you all the admiration that he feels for you. To convey how you’ve turned his world upside down and to emphasize how utterly precious you’d be underneath him due to size difference ahem his management. Working alongside him as his lovely equal/assistant manager.】

【Only one strand of restraint was holding him back from pouncing on you as if he had no good sense. But it was waning with how his meddlesome brother Dexter kept interfering with y’all’s pleasant time together.】

【Eventhough he may have been born with a diamond spoon he was never the one to indulge in it. Not that he could since his mother Isidore was a hard fashioned woman with a strict traditional upbringing. She instilled in her sons that what you earn is what you keep and how there was nothing such as free handouts in the world.】

【And yet since he was the eldest, Isidore made sure to remind him how it was his responsibility to steer his brother in the right direction. Taking her words to heart he always made an effort to accommodate his brother to an extent.】

【In their childhood days whatever Dexter wanted something from Judas. The eldest willingly gave in to him since he could be fussy if he didn’t get what he wanted. But once he noticed the eyes Dexter made at you whilist making you laugh from his charm.】

【Something snapped inside Judas. He didn’t like the way Dexter was trying to put dibs on you in his subtle hand placement on your waist. He despised how happy you sounded from the half baked jokes of the Youngest. He hated how easy it was for Dexter to strike up a conversation with you and be in your general presence without need for work excuses.】

【Don’t look at his brother look at him sure he may not have the best social ques or a way with words but he’ll treat you right. Judas will take care of you as if you were a queen to the throne of his heart.】

“I’ll be good, I’ll be perfect just for you… All I want is for you to look at me, focus only on me, Please don’t look elsewhere with those eyes of yours. I just wanna be yours. So choose me, not him.”

【He’d seldom show you in the most intense ways possible, the depraved man he’s become. Falling weak to his needs to hug you, to kiss you, to embrace you, to show you all the love that he can possibly show you. Within his iron grasp since you’re the one thing that he’ll never give up to his youngest sibling no matter how much tries to tempt you away from him.】

483 notes · View notes

likebatsoutofhell · 7 months

Text

#batman #dc #batfam #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #digital art #jason todd x reader #dcamu #fan art #dexter soy studies #comics #my art #digitalart

926 notes · View notes

happy74827 · 6 months

Text

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.

163 notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 10 months

Note

Hi Sarah!! I’m just curious what’s your most random Eddie idea you’ve had that you haven’t written about? I’m in love with the imaginary friend series btw🖤🖤

Hiii lovey!!! Awe I’m so glad you love that series!! It’s been a fun one so far!!🥹 So you’re gonna totally be like “Sarah wtf…” but just hear me out for a moment okay? The most RANDOM Eddie Munson idea I’ve ever had would be Eddie as a hit man or just a serial killer🙈 now before you freak out this is how I imagine it in my head:

Masterlist: here

*TW: mentions of Eddie being a killer and knives*

Eddie is a well trained killing machine but you only know him as Eddie Munson your boyfriend who works with his uncle Wayne down at the plant in Hawkins. On the nights Eddie is working late or has to do an overnight he can always expect you to call him around nine or ten when you’re getting ready for bed, for as long as you can remember he’s never missed one of your calls.

“Hey baby,” Eddie puts the phone to his ear as he shoves a sock in the mouth of the man who he’s visiting tonight for his side job. “How was your day?” The man sitting in front of Eddie goes wide eyed as Eddie pulls out some tape from his back pocket and motions for the man to place his hands in his lap.

“Boring I didn’t get to do much because of the rain.” Eddie just nods as he hears you getting comfortable in the bed. “I miss you.” Your voice is soft and sweet making him smile as he begins wrapping tape around the man’s wrists.

“I miss you too sweetheart.” The man begins to make a few noises, “what are you reading tonight?” He asks as he quickly mutes the phone so you can’t hear him but he can still hear you just fine. “I’ll get to you in a moment so if you don’t mind shutting the hell up? My girlfriend is telling me what books she’s reading before bed.” The man stops moving and goes back to being silent making Eddie smile and unmute the phone.

“I’m starting the Two Towers tonight since I finished the Fellowship last night.” Eddie nods his head as he turns his back on the man sitting on the couch who is now all taped up making it impossible for him to move.

“Oh you’ll like that one.” You let out a small yawn making Eddie look at his watch and just like clockwork it’s ten on the dot and of course you’re getting sleepy you never stay up past eleven even on the weekends and that’s something Eddie’s always loved about you, you’re extremely consistent. “Someone’s sleepy.” Eddie teases as he puts the roll of tape back in his backpack that’s sitting on the kitchen island.

“Don’t make fun of me you know I can’t help it.” Eddie just laughs as you snuggle down deeper into the bed. “I love you.” Eddie smiles as he grabs a knife from his bag and gently places it on the island.

“I love you too baby.” And with that you both hang up and Eddie slides his phone into his back pocket and grabs the knife before heading back into the living room. “Now where were we?” Eddie asks the man who is now trying his best to wiggle off the couch making Eddie laugh. “Oh come on…this will hurt less if you stop moving.”

626 notes · View notes

pursuitseternal · 4 months

Text

“Dexterity Check First, My Sweet:” finger-licking smut 🔥with Spawn!Astarion for “Bites in the Night” part 9

Astarion x f!reader | E | 3K of finger fucking licking smut

Summary: Flaming Fist soldiers on your heels, caught red-handed trying to steal some food, and your Vampire Rogue has one place in mind for you to hide: Sharess’ Caress. Where better to spend an hour laying low together than a pleasure house… where he can tutor you on the dexterity skills that got you into this mess

CW: Vaginal fingering, finger licking, breast play, anal fingering, generally arrogant Spawn Astarion, Act 3 spoilers if you squint maybe…

Ao3 link | Series on Ao3 | Masterlist

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Can’t you run any faster?” Astarion hisses at you, eyes narrowed as he glares over his shoulder, leading you down alley after alley in Baldur’s Gate. The clanking of armor still echoes behind you—the Flaming Fist still trailing.

And you, you’re hustling, but it’s harder given your wardrobe. “This was your idea,” you pant, aggravated in reply. “You said ‘Wear a dress for once, darling. No one will suspect us if you look decent for once…’”

His hand shoots out from the shadows, pulling you into a darkened doorway. His chest heaves, lock picks in hand. “I know what I said. It’s true, my sweet. You do look decent for once. It’s not my fault you can’t use those hands for anything subtle and smooth that isn’t my cock.”

He flashes a quick smirk your way before picking open the door you both press against. That smirk that melts your innards and makes you quiver instantaneously.

Turning, you keep an eye out for the soldiers who caught you stealing from the vendors. Of course after weeks in the Shadow-Cursed lands, food and gold were scarce. What little you still had only stretched so far in the City. So, you and your Rogue decided to take a… new course of action. One he swore was foolproof… easy… something he did a thousand times over hundreds of years… And he had insisted you look ‘decent’ in a dress for it.

Which was how you now find yourself squeezed against some alley door, panting, and afraid of being arrested as the soldiers who caught you nicking food from the stands close in.

“Hurry, Astarion,” you elbow him in the shoulder where he crouches beside you. “They’re coming.”

“Darling you can’t rush art,” he sneers in reply.

“It’s not art, it’s crime.”

“Maybe next time, you'll not get us caught then. Maybe you need some lessons on just how to expertly use those fingers…” he pauses, even as the clanking of armor draws even closer. He stands quickly, spinning you both, pinning you hard against the planes of the door as he crushes you against the wood. His mouth devours yours, your eyes filled with nothing but his pale skin and mussy, silver hair. Your every sense is consumed by his taste in your tongue, his scent in your nose, his wiry body bearing down, covering you completely.

That passion, that ardor steals your breath, lost in the sound of his breath in your mouth and the wet working of his lips, his tongue with yours.

So distracted you barely even notice the flurry of guards rush right past you until they have long passed. Barely noticed that he’s hidden you from their sight in his distraction. Kept you safe. Then he breaks, his devious smirk at your arousal only makes you pant harder. “You clever devil,” you rasp, trying to swallow. “Kept us hidden… and clearly you do enjoy this dress.”

“What would you do without me?” he taunts, reaching for the handle of the door, letting it creak open behind your back. “They’ll be back, we need to lay low for an hour or two…” that wicked gleam in his eyes only darkens. “How fortunate that we can hide here…”

You turn, taking a step inside the door. Instantly, you recognize it from your adventures so far. The scent of perfumes and sweat, of alluring flowers and dirty bodies all at once. Thick crimson curtains draped over every wall and door, ready to soften the cries of orgasm and the sounds of sex.

Sharess’ Caress.

“What better place to hide than a pleasure house?” he gives you that feline grin that more than announces his intentions for how to pass an hour or two. “Oh, what a shame we will have to hide away… just the two of us… away from everyone else back at camp…”

“Did I call you clever?” you roll your eyes, despite the way your belly floods with heat. “I mean sly, cunning…”

“And very, very hungry,” he interjects, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you towards the stairs. “Starved practically…”

“How do you know where you’re going?” you hiss from behind.

“You forget so quickly these are my hunting grounds, my nocturnal domains. How fortunate you get me of my own free will during the daytime,” he quirks back at you over his shoulder as he turns down a hall and then another. “You’ve been dancing with a professional,” he smirks, breathing deeply as he draws to a sudden stop outside a door. “But you already knew that, my darling. Already experienced the fruits of my practice on the unworthy…”

“Gods,” you pant, “and you think me worthy?”

“Most worthy, my love,” he chuckles softly, turning the doorknob beside you. “Won’t you come and find out why it’s a pleasure house, my sweet?”

You smile, devious, “Emphasis on the… come?”

“I’m in such a good mood to be here with you, my darling, that even your unrefined wit won’t put me off or… soften… my regard for you,” he giggles, leading you behind the curtain that covers the entryway. Its fabric is thick, a dense sort of velvet, darker than blood.

You stumble into the dark, and instantly those hands… those strong, lithe, dancing hands, catch you. You hear so many other voices in the distance, a cacophony of moans and slaps and screams. You turn, looking for Astarion, an edge of… surprise in your heart. Surprise that warms quickly into a heady fear as he leers at you.

The soft light only makes every angle and cut of his face sharper, his skin almost lustrous, those hands leaving your grip to already begin to tear his tunic from over his head. Earth-shattering. Ruinous. He is beyond handsome.

And he’s yours.

“You can’t stop staring, darling…” he rasps, drawing closer in, closing in around you. The skin of his chest, the way every muscle and vein is familiar to you, it makes you force a swallow. “Not that I'm complaining, of course,” he gives that short burst of giggles to punctuate. “But we really… really must do something about those hands of yours.”

He catches them together in just one palm, his touch cool despite the growing heat that caresses your skin. “Strength doesn’t come from brute force all the time, slashing and twisting…” he breathes. You gasp, moaning suddenly as his other hand has already managed to somehow slink into the hitched hem of your skirt, his touch barely ghosting up your inner thigh. “You needn’t be so gruff and commanding all the time, darling,” he purrs. “Let your fingers find their own way, one by one in that merry dance…”

“Gods,” you groan, as indeed one by one they slip into your folds, sliding in so easily with how drenched you already are for him. He flashes that sideways grin down at you, eyes narrowed as he is savoring the way you shudder at his touch, at the way your mouth hangs open suddenly to feel him pleasuring you. “Please, more,” you sigh, arching back to find something to brace your body against. “I want more inside me, I want you inside me.”

“But I am, darling,” his grin only twists higher, “and this is my lesson for you, so you had better listen and learn.” His hold on your hands tightens, his thumb massaging over their backs, deftly and rhythmically stroking your taught muscles. His legs stride between yours, hips pressing hard against you, making you back until you smack the your knees on some soft furniture. But quicker than breath, he steadies you. Fingers slipping from your folds and your body to unbutton his breeches.

You don’t even need to look to know his cock stands at the ready, and you giggle as he presses it into your waist, so hard you feel its twitching through your gown. “Already?” you tease, feeling a blush sweeping over your cheeks and up your neck.

“Well, you’re going to need something to practice on…” His eyes gaze at you, glazed with desire, that crimson shine almost a bright red as the lights from the candles around you flicker and flame. “And, I will too,” he adds, voice thick in his throat as he takes the ribbons of your blouse in those long, lean fingers. “Something to play with, as an example of course…”

His breath is heavy, each inhale and exhale almost deafens you. He is close but refrains from brushing against you, nothing more than the way his fingers pull those thin laces of bodice, one by one.

Slowly. Painfully deliberate.

His gaze never wavers, doesn’t even have to look to know where to grip, where to touch. Until at last, the panes of your bodice split, your breasts achingly hard to feel the free air, the rush of his heavy breaths caressing them.

You try to catch his mouth, to bring him into a kiss, but he only shoves you back down to your heels. “Tch, tch,” he sucks his teeth at you, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “This isn’t a lesson for your mouth. Your tongue is already so good at sucking and swallowing, my pet.”

Oh, you shudder. His words alone push you to that precipice of need. Not to mention that constant washing sound of the pleasures around you. It makes you whimper to be denied.

“Shh,” he chuckles quietly, one long pointer finger on your lips to tap gently. “Think about how enjoyable it will be to put these skills into practice daily… nightly too…”

Your brow raises, mischief swirling in your belly as you quickly part your lips, drawing that finger between them to suck it hard.

His cock pulses against your belly, his mouth groaning loudly at the warmth and wet you swirl around it.

“Eager and naughty. You belong in this pleasure house, my love,” he growls. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit on the seat behind you, a settee you realize, covered in softest velvet. Your breathing grows rough, every inhale you make is filled with the perfumes of the house, masked heavily by that fresher scent of his skin.

Your mouth waters, his hands rucking up your skirts, clawing around your hips as he settles you on his thighs. He throws the skirts behind you, ensuring he has complete control, a perfect view of your soft-curled mound, your shaking thighs. But he leaves you aching, your pulse pounding as he can feel your folds soaking his skin and throbbing as you grieve the emptiness inside you.

His fingers seem to dance in the air as he reaches for your body, where your breasts hang so exposed. So easy for the taking. Fascinated, hypnotized by their dexterity, you watch as each of his fingers moves, of its own accord, each playing across your skin. His touch is delicate and deliberate.

The muscles of his hands clench, each movement visible as the candlelight caresses that masculine outline. Light warming his pale, pearl-like skin. Shadows following the ridges and trails the veins make over the backs of his hands, weaving gently up his arms.

You can’t resist, bringing your own touch to dance along those protruding blue lines. Mimicking the soft and commanding pressure he makes as he cradles your breasts, one in each hand, fingers twirling and plucking your nipples hardened to pebbles in his masterful touch. You can’t help it, can’t control it as the rhythm of his touch on your breasts alone sends those shivers of pleasure down your spine, your body under his thrall as climax pours through you. Hot and wild, you buck on the limited friction of his thighs, your cum coating that flawless, smooth skin.

And he giggles. With a little extra effort, he tweaks your nipples as you ride out the remaining waves. “Oh my sweet, see what skilled fingers alone can do?” he croons. His hips buck beneath your still-trembling thighs, making his cock jolt where it stands. Little trickles of his seed already leaking from that tight little slit. You want so badly to lick it clean, to quickly shove that hardness deep inside you to cool your burning lust. But you smile, taking it in your hands, not to be outdone by your arrogant, insufferable Rogue.

Plying that same silken yet commanding touch, you sweep a single finger up the trail of his precum, gathering it on your fingertip before slipping it in your mouth. Sucking it clean.

He groans, watching. His hands slide down your sides, holding your hips hard against his thighs. “What a good student you have become,” he praises in his honeyed tones.

You pull your finger from your pursed lips with a resounding pop. Licking the rest of those fingers one by one, you begin tracing just the soft pads of your fingers up and down his twitching shaft.

For hells take you if you weren’t about to stun him senseless with your fingers alone.

You keep your eyes on the motions you make, smiling harder each time his hips buck under your touch, cock twitching and jolting as you beat it in your grip. Maybe it’s the sounds that surround you, the wet slap of flesh, the moans of a hundred paying patrons, but your mind fills with a naughty idea.

Pausing, you clamber between his legs, pressing him wider with your knees. As he has done to you countless times.

“Just what are you doing, my sweet?”

You ignore the question, using a single hand to tug softly on the wrinkled silken skin of his balls. Gods, they feel tight and heavy in your palm already. Driving him closer to his own bursting release with each stroke you make.

“You’ll find out…” you grin innocently, meeting that flaming scarlet gaze of his. His tongue drags over his fangs, hunger lurking behind every clench of his body. The soft pads of your fingers slip further beneath him, following the hard seam of his erection until you brush the pert little hole of his ass.

Astarion hisses, arching his back as you press around it just a bit harder, circling it as he has done to everything on your body a million times.

“Darling…” he groans, raising his hips to let you in more. “Testing your dexterity on all of me, are you?”

You slip your touch inside, feeling him clench as you mimic the way he caresses you. The way he fucks you on those talented, eager fingers of his. You savor the way he growls, head thrown back against the velvet of the settee as you crook inside him deeper. For a moment, you forget all about his cock. Savoring the way you make him shake and quiver around your digits for once. But then, he clenches so hard around your finger deep in his ass, his cock ripples, thickening as you push him further towards the edge. He thrusts over and over into your other fist.

“Hells…” he pants, forcing his head up to meet your smile. “Where in gods names did you think to do that?”

You smile, so innocent and pouting and coy. “You’re not the only one who can read a book, Astarion…”

“Hgnf…” he grabs your wrists, the veins of his arms protruding even more as he flexes, pulling you down to collapse on his chest. “Lesson learned. Now I’ll claim my payment, it’s a brothel after all.”

No resistance is left in your body, too wet and hot and aching for anything other than letting that cool shaft of his cock to pierce deep inside you. And it does, sheathed so tightly in your cunt you cry, begging for more. Your scream could shake the walls, muffled only by those thick curtains.

“That’s right, my darling. Be loud, let them all hear you, hold nothing back like you do for me around the others,” he hisses low in the throat, hands tugging your dress apart all the more. All the better to let your breasts swing free with every unbridled buck of your body.

You groan, so loudly you’re sure you hear the curtains shaking.

And you do, as they pull back to open wide, the clatter of metal armor crashing through the soft slap of flesh. “Flaming Fist,” a cold voice startles you, anouncing. You gasp, clutching your bodice to hide the ample swell of your bosoms, burying your face against his chest as Astarion sits upright.

“What is the meaning of this,” he snaps in disgust and sneers in disdain, that commanding edge of his voice is dominating and cold. “I’ve paid good money for this, and you have no business to intrude on either my time or my pleasure.” He chastises, bracing his arms around you, curving you slightly around his side.

Hiding you.

“I’m sorry sir,” the soldier insists, far more timidly than before. “We’ve been trailing a thief we were tipped off today who would be pinching food stores from the markets today. We suspect she may be hiding here.”

“Get out or pay me the 500 gold I’ve already wasted by spending time speaking with you!” he bellows, gesturing roughly towards the door. “No one here but an angry, wealthy patron and his whore!”

That did it, sending them scattering and clattering as they shut the curtain firmly behind them.

You go still on his lap, a suspicious, scouring look on your face as you meet his arrogant, guilty eyes. “Tipped… off…”

His smirk curls wickedly to one side, shrugging demurely, a single hand splayed on his chest to feign innocence. “How else am I supposed to get you to accompany me here, say… Oh darling, I’d like to take you to a pleasure house so I can loudly fuck you away from prying eyes and listening ears?”

“You’d be surprised just how charismatic you might be if you checked, if you asked nicely…” you grind on his still throbbing cock, “…if you tried saying please.” You lean forward, pressing your hands on his chest to shove him back down. “Perhaps you could benefit from some lessons on asking nicely…”

That handsome face quirks, twisting harder as he smiles at you. “Dexterity check first, my sweet,” he purrs and crooks his finger against your clit. Reminding you just why you’re here.

230 notes · View notes

brnesblogposts · 2 months

Text

story of us

pairing: dexter mayhew x reader

a/n: part of a series that’s also on my ao3 wr1tingtoc0pe :)

————————————

I met Dexter Mayhew on my last day of university. It was our graduation ball and I was dancing with my friends when he caught my eye, not for the first time however.

I’d always noticed him, I’m sure he’d never noticed me but I saw him, he’s hard to forget. Dexter had this aura about him that could only be described as enthralling, not only that but gorgeous blue eyes and a smile that could kill.

20 years ago

“Hi, i’m Dex” The brightest smile made his eyes light up as he held out his hand towards me, the music and lights seemed to stand still as we made eye contact. It took me a few seconds to register that he was talking to me, after an awkward amount of time I finally shook his outstretched hand. he’d never acknowledged me in the four years we’d been on campus together. I gave him my name and told him I knew who he was already, “ The infamous Dexter Mayhew.” I smiled, as did he and I think my heart stopped for a second.

…

“Do you want to dance?”

“I mean I kind of already am” I stated plainly.

“I mean with me” He let out a little scoff, not really a laugh but not not a laugh..

“Oh. yeah, sure” I took the hand he held out to me as he lead me to a quieter area of the dance floor, I could hear my friends squealing as we disappeared.

19 years ago

“Dex!” I ran with outstretched arms for an embarrassing amount of time, probably should’ve waited until I was closer to him really.. when I finally reached him I dropped my bags as he stretched out his arms and I jumped into them, wrapping my arms around his neck as he spun me around laughing.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” he took my bags in his arms.

“Actually i’m just happy to be off of that train. Seven hours.. my bum is sore.” I pouted dramatically as we started walking off of the platform and to the car park.

“This time last year we were at the grad ball, can you believe it’s been a year?!” Dexter questioned and I shook my head as the memories of that night ran through my mind.

“I really can’t, i’ve put up with you for a whole year! I deserve a medal.” I spoke exasperatedly and laughed when he gasped,

“you’ve put up with me?? i’ve been putting up with you!” He bumped his shoulder into mine as we reached the car, he opened the boot and put my bags in and then ever the gentleman opened the passenger door for me.

“Dexter Mayhew, what a gentleman,” I quipped as he tipped his imaginary hat at me, closed the door and walked around to the drivers seat.

…

“We’ve been out of university for a year and I have accomplished nothing.” I sighed as I walked next to Dex down the high street.

“We’re twenty three, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, we’ll figure it out.” Dex and I were quite different when it came to our outlook on life, he was all about having fun and living for the moment, ever the optimist with the mindset that everything would work itself out. My mindset was quite the opposite, ever the over thinker. Dex was good like that, he was always there to remind me to be in the moment and to have fun rather than stress about the future.

“What do you think we’ll be doing at forty?” It seems so far away but in reality, it’s not.

“I don’t know what i’m going to be doing tomorrow, let alone at forty” How I wish I could live life like Dex could, no plan or worries about the future. “I will say one thing though. I hope I have children by the time i’m forty” This revelation took me surprise because I didn’t know Dex had even thought about that kind of stuff, “what?” He had a little smile on his face as I gathered my thoughts.

“I didn’t think you thought about that kind of stuff” it was endearing that he had though, Dexter with children.. I mustn’t think about it or I might just melt into a puddle of adoration. Before he respond I spoke again “you’d be a great dad, the best.” Maybe he doubted himself because his smile grew at my words, Dexter Mayhew an aspiring father, never would’ve thought it.

“Do you want kids?” he asked as we entered a quaint café and I waited until we had sat down to answer

“I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about, kids are expensive and there’s so many global issues I don’t know if I want to bring a child into this mess-“ I stopped talking when I saw the sly smile on his face as my eyes found the table, “can you stop staring at me like that, please.”

“Sorry” He seemed to have more to say but he didn’t, “What do you fancy?” You is what I wanted to say, but i’m not that stupid.. I dare ruin this beautiful friendship we’ve forged over the last year.

————-

reblogs appreciated! turn on notifs for this post to be notified for part 2 <3

#dexter mayhew #dexter mayhew x reader #one day #one day series #one day netflix #leo woodall #dexter

128 notes · View notes