#dexter x harrison

[ladyculebras]

hello! i'm a big fan of your fics, and was wondering if you had any particular inspirations for you dexter/harrison fics, specifically 'carnivore incarnate'. it's so fascinating! also, forever hoping you'll write more for this fandom ❣

anon, this is incredibly flattering, and I really hope you're still around to read this response. I'm sorry it took me a while. I wanted to really be...comprehensive in my thoughts and this ended up pretty rambly. In some ways, this is an excuse for me to write about my process for my very rare pair, which is self-indulgent, but I hope it'll be of interest to some people at least.

Stoker and Raw are, in general, two inspirations for me that I keep in mind while writing Dexter/Harrison fic. Stoker, because the way I write Harrison, it's always a coming of age story vis-a-vis serial killing. For carnivore incarnate, I specifically drew on Raw for some of the visuals and violence. Both of those films are coming of age stories with incestous vibes and murder, and that's the vibe I want for my fic.

As far as carnivore incarnate goes, well, there's the quote the title is from, which is the Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber, a short story collection; the quote is specifically from The Company of Wolves in it; but I wasn't really drawing on the short story in particular, I just like the quote a lot and I kept hearing it in my head while writing it.

In terms of the vampire mythology, I made it up xD There's absolutely shades of Being Human UK (blood drinking as addiction, daywalking vampires) and The Lost Boys (half-vampirism) and even a bit of The Coldest Girl in Coldtown (not-fully transitioned vampires drinking vampire blood), but I constructed the mythology based on what I needed to make the story work. I needed Dexter to walk in daylight, or else he doesn't work as a Miami blood-spatter analysis, so I decided daylight doesn't have an effect, or it has minimal effect. I needed Dexter to age, so he looks Dad-aged to Harrison, not like Season 1 era Dexter, so I decided blood keeps him young and if he doesn't drink, he'll age at a normal rate. I needed Harrison to be in some half-vampire state where he knows he is not Normal but plausibly think his issues are all psychological, and not that he's a vampire, so I decided he doesn't get his fangs until he makes a kill.

I am writing more for this fandom! The problem is, all my ideas are huge, so it takes forever for me to finish something, and I also get distracted by other projects, because I get easily frustrated if I spend too long on one thing. I sort of can't talk about what I'm currently writing, because it's for an exchange (hopefully) and I need to stay anonymous until I post it, but it should hopefully be done...in a month? I think it needs a month's more of work. I have multiple Dexter/Harrison ideas that I've already started, and I'm writing one Harrison/Brian idea that's about...30k at the moment, but again, slowest writer alive.

I am also really deeply inspired by music; I can write without it, but it always helps. If i'm a low mood, music can help pick me up and put me in a better mood for writing. Certain songs evoke the right feelings or emotions for a scene, or a character, or a specific event, and help me with the imagery or mood. This is the most self-indulgent thing but I make a playlist for most things I write. I don't have a specific carnivore incarnate playlist, but I do have a Dexter/Harrison playlist I made for you gave me my very first gun that I've just been adding to it as I write and turned into a catch-all Dexter/Harrison mix:

you gave me my very first gun

I also have these two other writing mixes that I use for writing Dexter/Harrison, or other Dexter-related or Dexter adjacent content:

monsters are always hungry

no blood for you will ever be enough

I've been listening to that third one a lot while writing. There's a lot of overlap between mixes, and I guess if I had to pick 5 songs that inspire my Dexter/Harrison feelings for writing, I'd go with

patron saint hunter - timber timbre

evil - interpol

alligator blood - nicole dollanganger

glycerine - bush

you want it darker - leonard cohen (thank you, bones and all, for bringing this to my attention)

Thank you for asking! I'm glad you're enjoying the fics. There's such a small audience for this, so I really treasure any level of engagement I get <3

[willieverseetheland]

mama?

Dexter Morgan x reader

based on this ask!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, violence, domestic violence, all the usual Dexter stuff, very much angst Summary: Following Rita’s death, Dexter and reader become close as they deal with the aftermath.

It was a quiet evening. You were sitting on your balcony watching the full, glowing moon. You were deep in thought when your phone began to ring, pulling you back to reality. The caller ID said Dexter Morgan, you thought this was strange as he and Rita were supposed to have left on their honeymoon. Maybe they decided not to bring Harrison along after all. But when you answered, it was a woman's voice.

"Hello? This is Debra Morgan with Miami Metro Homicide, is this y/n?"

"Yes?" You replied with a slight quiver in your voice, confused. Homicide? What is happening? "There's been an incident, Dexter thought you should know. However, he's preoccupied at the moment. Rita..."

Her voice begins to shake, you can sense that she's about to cry

"Um, Rita's been murdered, I understand you two were close."

It was like the entire world stopped. Murdered? Rita was the loveliest, sweetest, most pure-of-heart person you knew. Who would possibly have wanted to hurt her?

The phone slipped out of your hand. Thankfully you were already sitting down, or you may have fell off your balcony. You can hear the woman repeating "hello, are you there?" over the phone. But everything was static. Nothing made sense. As it all began to settle into place, what really happened. You let out a loud sob. Shaking violently, tears streaming down your face. You bang your fist on the ground, screaming. Angry at the world, or whatever higher power that existed. As you sat there and sobbed, you began to think about Harrison, Dexter, Astor, Cody, everyone else who knew and loved Rita. God! Poor Harrison. He hardly got to know his mother.

You think of all the times you saved Rita from Paul. All the late nights scared it would be the last time. Scared, because you didn't know when it would be the last punch, kick, slap. There were honestly times you thought he would kill her. You thought you had prepared yourself for this, but how could you, how could anyone. When he died, you were there to support Rita of course, but deep down you were glad. You saw first-hand how he treated her, how it affected the kids.

Rita was like a sister to you. You considered yourself like an aunt to those kids. A piece of you died today, something you don't know if you'll ever get back.

--

You were awoken by the sound of loud honking. You open your eyes to see the bright morning sun over Miami. It made you angry, how could the world go on when yours came crashing down less than 24 hours ago. You look around, you must've cried yourself into exhaustion and passed out on your balcony.

You go back inside. Your cat comes up to nudge your leg. You look down at him and he just stares at you and meows. You wish you could be like him, blissfully unaware of all the evil in the world.

You go to make a pot of coffee, but you just collapse on the floor of your kitchen. How can you go on? Rita is dead. Harrison, Astor, and Cody just lost their mother. Dexter lost his wife. And yet the world keeps spinning. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's your boss. You look at the time, you were supposed to be at work an hour ago.

"Fuck" you sigh, leaning your head back against your kitchen counter

You answer, telling him you won't be coming in today, death in the family. He can be a dick at times, but he's understanding when it comes to this.

You scan your apartment. Eyes settling on the picture on your bedside table. You walk over to it, picking it up. It's a photo of you, Dexter, Rita, and the kids at Rita's birthday party. You place it face down; you can't bear to look at it right now.

Dexter lingers in your mind. God! How could you be so selfish? He must be in shambles right now. Grieving the death of his wife and having to be responsible for little Harrison. Maybe you should go check on him, see Harrison. Might take your mind off of things. Or make things worse. You don't know. Either way you need to do something.

You throw on a sweater and your shoes. You know the house is likely still a crime scene so you can't go there. Dex and Harrison are probably with his sister, who conveniently lives at his old apartment, so finding the place won't be too difficult. You drive like a bat out of hell, trying to get there as fast as you can.

You arrive and knock on the door, no one answers. You knock again, still no answer. You figure nobody is home, so you turn to leave. As you start walking away, you hear the handle turn, and the door unlatch. You turn around, seeing Dexter peering out from the crack in the door. You greet him with a warm smile as he opens the door fully. You immediately lean in for a hug, which he doesn't move away from but doesn't exactly reciprocate. He just stands there with his arms at his side, stiff. He does lean his chin on your shoulder though. He sighs in relief, shoulders loosening.

"Deb called me last night, told me what happened. I know it's probably a stupid question, but how are you?" You look in his eyes, sincerity and empathy written all over your face.

He knows this is hard on you too.

"I'm doing okay, I have to, for him." He turns to look at Harrison, sleeping soundly in his crib.

You two go to sit on the couch, you place a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting.

"I found him sitting in a pool of her blood" He turns to look at you, face empty, exhausted.

Your hands fly to your mouth as you gasp

"Dexter, my god. I'm so sorry" Tears begin to well up in your eyes

"If it's too much you don't have to answer, but how did it happen exactly? Deb told me she was murdered, but not what happened."

"You've seen the trinity killer on the news, right?" He turns to look at you

"A single cut to her thigh, slicing the femoral artery. She bled out." His voice is steady, concise.

Anyone who didn't know Dexter would think he's unbothered, but you know this is just him. He's devastated on the inside.

"I, I uh... that's horrible, I'm sorry you had to see that." Your voice is soft, comforting.

"If it's any help, I wouldn't mind watching over Harrison for a few days, while you get the funeral things figured out. And Astor and Cody, if needed."

"They're with their grandparents, they don't know yet. They're coming back today. Thank you, that would actually be a big help." He gives you a slight smile, you can tell it's forced but you appreciate the effort.

--

The days go by, each one as painful as the previous. Everyone tells you to take it one day at a time, but nothing is changing. Nothing is getting better. Her funeral was devastating, you cried the entire time. You tried to stay strong, for the kids, but seeing her lying there, you couldn't. She looked beautiful, like she was sleeping. Astor and Cody went to stay with their grandparents in Orlando, which you know is hard on Dexter. He really loves them. You switched your hours around so you could work nights and watch Harrison during the day while Dex is at work. Harrison has been the only highlight of your life recently, one of the only things you have left of Rita. He's truly an amazing child, and thankfully he doesn't seem to be affected by what happened. You know Dexter was really concerned about that.

You've tried to be there for Dexter as well, but he hasn't been as accepting. You understand though. However, it's what Rita would want you to do. She always trusted you to take care of her family. You considered Rita to be like a sister, and it's what you would do for family.

You take Harrison back home that afternoon. Dexter has the biggest smile on his face as he takes Harrison into his arms, he's a great father and loves Harrison so much.

"How was he?" He questions

"Wonderful as always, he's such a little angel" You smile

"But the real question is, how are you, Dexter?"

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine" There's a hint of irritation in his voice

"Dexter, but I do worry about you. You've just suffered a great tragedy. I just want to be sure you're okay"

"I just told you I am okay, why do you care so much anyways?" He shakes his head and places Harrison in his crib

"It's what Rita would've wanted!" You exclaim

He turns around to look at you, you can see that he's distraught. Being a single parent is never easy, especially one that's grieving.

He sighs

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I really am okay, I promise" He gives you another one of his classic fake smiles, you know he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so you don't press

"Alright, if you insist"

--

It's been almost a year since Rita's death now. You still miss her like crazy, but things have gotten easier. Harrison is walking and talking which has been very emotional, you wish Rita was here to see it. He's become a part of your regular routine now. Dexter offered to pay you to be his nanny, but you declined, quite aggressively. Dexter kept insisting but you would not accept under any circumstances. Spending all this time with Harrison has also meant spending quite a lot of time with Dexter as well. You've grown to really care for him.

One morning, you were over at Dexter's feeding Harrison breakfast. Dexter was getting ready for work. He came out of the bedroom, shirt unbuttoned. You couldn't help but stare, which made you feel guilty. You admired his hands as he swiftly fastened the buttons, his arms as he rolled up his sleeves, his sculpted chest peeking through the top of his shirt. You felt wrong. He comes over to give Harrison a kiss on the head. As he walks by, his shoulder brushes yours. You blush, in embarrassment and due to your true feelings. As you airplane another spoon of yogurt into Harrison's mouth, out comes something that shocks you to your core.

"Mama" Harrison babbles

You and Dexter immediately make eye contact. Your eyes are blown open wide, mouth agape.

"I'm so sorry, I have no idea why he would say that" You panic

"It's alright, he doesn't know any different" Dexter reassures you

You and Dexter just stand there, looking at each other. He smiles, a genuine smile this time. Something you've missed seeing.

He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. He brings his hand to your cheek and leans in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You immediately melt. You felt so guilty for feeling the way you did, falling for a man who was grieving his dead wife. You bring your hands up to hold his face. Deepening the kiss. When you pull away, you can't help but smile a big goofy grin. Dexter is smiling too, which makes your heart flutter.

You stand there in comfortable silence, before Dexter announces he has to go, and that he wants you to be here when he gets home. He kisses your cheek and leaves. Your heart feels so full. However, you still feel guilty, like you're betraying Rita, but you also feel like this is what she would want. You know her family well, and you love them like they're your own.

You lay Harrison down for a nap, kissing him on the forehead. You grab a cup of coffee and go outside. It's a chilly spring morning. As you're looking out over Miami, a white butterfly lands on your finger. A tear rolls down your, cheek. You've never been much of a spiritual person, but you know it's her, and suddenly everything starts to feel like it's going to be okay.

...

Literally almost cried while writing this, I love Rita so much. I hope I did your vision justice! Sorry it's so long lol

[best-character-named-x-poll]

have you done your daily click

[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. 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 getting 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 intelligence 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 bored 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.

[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 CHAPTER ONE

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.

[hornydilfsinyourarea]

Dexter Morgan x Detective! Male! User

Authors note: you don't actually have to use all three bots, they are all in the different timeline, depending on what you prefer, the end's timeline is set in Dexter: New Blood though... (You basically take Harrison's place in that) The other two in Dexter (the series), it depends on what setting you prefer, crushing, married or divorced, up to you

The Beginning: "Dexter has been over heels for you for a while, to the point where he would stalk you, he... Saw it as a way of learning stuff about you, where you live, what you can or can't eat, what you like to eat, how you dress, what kind of clothes you like, everything thing really! It even got to the point where he would fantasize about you..."

The Middle: "Life was great for Dexter right now, just two months ago... He got married to you! He has been planning this for years on end! Dexter couldn't be happier... but even then... he still hasn't told you about certain... things, but that wouldn't matter... right? I mean... you both even started to think about adopting a child! Ahh... life couldn't be better for Dexter"

The End: "It all went to shit, you divorced him, you divorced Dexter! You did it after finding out that he was your stalker AND a killer, Dexter just... wanted a normal life with you, but it seemed he couldn't... so he tried to live a normal life under a new name... and with a new lover... but still, he couldn't stop loving you, and now there you were... in the shop he works at..."

Warning: Spoilers!! NSFW (The beginning and the middle, talks of sex in it but nothing actually happening in both of them, just mentioned, user is mentioned being the top/the man/the dominant in the bed), Stalker! Dexter (The beginning and the end, Dexter MIGHT begin to stalk you again in The End), user is a detective at the MMPD, Obsessive(?) Dexter, Cheater! Dexter (The End, depends on you, if you make Dexter cheat or break up with his girlfriend, just putting this as a warning because Dexter still has feelings for you even though he is in a relationship), possible yandere! Dexter (depends on how you picture him), Murderer! Dexter, please remember that I do not support any of these bad things, it is for fictional use ONLY!

The Beginning. The Middle. The End.

↑link to part one↑ ↑link to part two↑ ↑link to part three↑

[onbrokenglass]

Hello there!

This blog is mainly for finding roleplays. I roleplay exclusively on Discord (I love making private servers) and am 21+, so minors please DNI. Style-wise I can adapt to my partner, though my favourite way to write is lit for those juicy, introspective moments. NSFW friendly, and I like all sorts of pairs from fxf, mxf, mxm, to any nb pairs. Platonic and found family are fun too!

My messages are always open for people interested in writing with me! I promise I don’t bite, even if some of my muses do.

Under the cut is a list of characters I’ll thread with (who I’d like to play is bolded, if both are bolded I can do either or), though it’s by no means exhaustive. Regardless of how old this post gets, you can message me at any time for those on this list.

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Ships (Canon)

Anakin Skywalker x Obi-Wan Kenobi

Atton Rand x Female Exile

Aviendha x Elayne Trakand

Beatrice x Battler Ushiromiya

Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Bruce Wayne x Selina Kyle

Carmy Berzatto x Sydney Adamu

Chloe Frazer x Nadine Ross

Dale Cooper x Harry Truman

Daniel Solace x Maura Franklin

Dick Grayson x Wally West

Dracula x Mina Harker

Elend Venture x Vin

Emma Larsimon x Marianne

Enid Sinclair x Wednesday Addams

Erik Lehnsherr x Charles Xavier

Ethan Winters x Karl Heisenberg

Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy

Harry du Bois x Kim Kitsuragi

James Delaney x Lorna Bow

Joe Goldberg x Forty Quinn

Joe Goldberg x Love Quinn

John Constantine x Bruce Wayne

John Constantine x Lucifer

Jon Kent x Damian Wayne (either aged up or still young, but if they’re young absolutely no NSFW)

Jonas Kahnwald x Martha Nielsen (any iterations)

Kaz Brekker x Inej Ghafa

Kaz Brekker x Jesper Fahey

Kyle Hyde x Brian Bradley

Kevin x Ilonka Pawluk

Laurent of Vere x Damen of Akielos

Leon Kennedy x Ada Wong

Leon Kennedy x Chris Redfield

Marius Josipovic x Julia Bowman

Marius Josipovic x Taylor Bowman

Mat Cauthon x Elayne Trakand

Mat Cauthon x Rand al’Thor

Mat Cauthon x Tuon Paendrag

Matt Murdock x Foggy Nelson

Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

Mike Ross x Harvey Specter

Moon Knight (all/any of them) x Layla El-Faouly

Moon Knight (all/any of them) x Peter Parker (adult Peter only)

Nate Fick x Brad Colbert

Nate Jacobs x  Maddy Perez

Nathan Prescott x Max Caulfield

Percy Jackson x Nico di Angelo

Phoenix Wright x Miles Edgeworth

Rob Ryan x Cassie Maddox (book verse)

Roman Godfrey x Peter Rumancek

Ronald Speirs x Carwood Lipton

Sherlock Holmes x John Watson

Stephen Holder x Sarah Linden

Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Thomas Shelby x Alfie Solomons

Tomas Ortega x Marcus Keane

Tyrell Wellick x Elliot Alderson

Wade Wilson x Peter Parker (adult Peter only)

Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter

Wolfgang Bogdanow x Kala Dandekar

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Ships (OC)

Alcina Dimetrescu x OC (female)

Atticus O’Sullivan x OC (any, supernatural or mythological)

Francis York Morgan x OC (any)

Holden Ford x OC (male, serial killer and/or detective)

John Constantine x OC (any)

Jonathan Reid x OC (any)

Peter Pan x OC (male, lost boy - no NSFW, though would feature dark themes as my Peter is inspired by the book The Child Thief. Would love platonic friends or enemies for this as well.)

Vanessa Ives x OC (any)

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Platonic

Carmy Berzatto & Richie Jerimovich

Dexter Morgan & Harrison Morgan

Five Hargreeves & Any Hargreeves Siblings

Hank Anderson & Connor

Jesse Pinkman & Walter White

Joel Miller & Ellie Williams

Kratos & Atreus

Moon Knight System (any against any)

Norman Bates & Dylan Massett

Peter Pan & Hook

[woundworship]

my Tumblr sucks but its so nice to find a fellow dexter x lumen fan.. i would die for her .. i have dreams that she comes back at the last season 😭 i miss her

YES I LOVE THEM !!!!! and i miss her sm too :( i cried so much at the end of her season like its not even funny. i do like that dexter suffered tho... but also id like her to show up just One more time. like just once. maybe kiss dexter a little bit so he remembers hes loved... also id like her to meet harrison when hes grown

[heartmadeofbones]

can someone gif the scene where Harrison and Dexter hunt Kurt together? pls and thank you

[vole-mon-amour]

"Dexter died in books, why are y'all so surprised"

I think you forget one small detail: Brian was also alive during the entire series. He introduced himself to Dexter's family, he bought Cody and Astor presents, he spent time with them (he took them out on their first kill, a stray dog! Him, not Dexter), and Rita seemed to genuinely like Brian and felt safe enough around him to breastfeed Lily Anne (speaking of, why the hell did Dexter have a son in the show instead of a daughter whom he adored?) in front of him and to let him pick up the kids from school and take them to a 'restaurant'. Brian became "the highlight of their week" (that's an actual quote from book 5). Brian saved Dexter, Deborah and her boyfriend in book 5 (those two bc he knew that Dexter cared about them and he wouldn't forgive Brian if he didn't), he killed a guy for Dexter (a wrong one bit nonetheless—because Dexter asked him to.) He died in Dexter is Dead, the same book Dexter died himself and not in the way the show did it. Sooo... If we're talking about following the books, where is this significant person in Dexter's life in the show and why the hell was he killed at the end of s1? Huh?

(I'll tell you why. Because the creators of the show were cowards.)

[willieverseetheland]

heya, I saw that you're taking requests and I'm starved for dexter x reader so i decided to send one in💖 could you write one where the reader is close friends with rita and helped her with her kids and keeping paul away before dexter entered the picture. rita described the reader as like a sister to him at times, that's how close they are. and after harrison is born, the reader also often babysat so dexter and rita could spend some time alone. after rita's death, the reader is obviously devestated, but thought about how much harder is must've hit dexter and tries to help him where she can, like babysitting harrison, but also trying to like take care of dexter as she thought they had grown a little close due to the time they spent together while rita was alive. and when he tries to make her go away sometimes she's like "it's what rita would've wanted me to do". and it basically ends with harrison calling the reader "mom" at one point while both her and dexter are with him and whatever happens after that is up to you💖 tysm💖💖

Omg this is going to be heart wrenching but yes! I should have it posted either tonight or sometime tomorrow! <33

After it’s posted I’ll link it here!

Posted! You can find it here

[raypakorn]

“He has my dark passenger.”

[sitaxdebster]

Merry Christmas everyone!

[c0ffinshit]

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

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

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

I need to follow your every move.

I need to make sure you are safe.

I need to be focused on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a little lovesickness.

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

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

You can finally see me.

"Alright, looking for anything in particular?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Laura. That’s a beautiful name."

Yes. Yes, it is.

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

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

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

"Something smaller. Something a little more intimate."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I smile as I walk to my car.

He is within reach.

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

Back In The Room

Pairing: Earth-2 Harry Wells x Female!Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Pure Smut, Oral (male and female receiving), vaginal sex

Summary: The night is over and after confessing your feelings for each other, you and Harry head back to the hotel room. Otherwise known as the smutty sequel to The Wedding

A.N: Sooo here’s the smut I mentioned writing awhile ago! I’m a little out of practice writing that good citrus-y content, I hope it doesn’t show too much and that you all enjoy it! 

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Harry's mouth was still on yours when you stumbled into the hotel room, the door clicking shut as he pressed you against it, trapping you between the wood and the solid heat of his body. Moaning into him when his hands roamed down over the fabric of your dress, you reached between your bodies to start undoing the blue suit jacket. 

Leaving your lips, Harry dropped his mouth to your neck, letting you push the offending jacket off his arms and to the floor. He sucked at your pulse point, leaving you gasping while you started to work on unbuttoning the crisp white shirt. Harry's hand slipped behind you, feeling for the zip of your dress when a thought struck you. It pained you, but you pressed your palm to his chest, "Wait."

Harry pulled away immediately, taking a step back. "What's wrong? Did I do something?" 

"No, you're amazing. Just…are you sure you want to keep going? I know it's been a while since...and if you wanted to take it slow, go on a few dates first, I'd be okay with that."

Smiling, Harry cupped your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "I want this, Y/N. I want you, you have no idea how much."

"I think I have a rough idea," you chuckled, "I've dreamed about this for months, I just wanted to make sure you were sure."

"I am if you are."

"God, yes I am."

Harry's mouth was back on yours instantly. You finished with his shirt, sliding your hands under the cotton to feel the bare, firm skin that lay hidden underneath. "Jesus, Hare, clothes don't do you justice." 

Harry huffed a laugh, his hands finding your zip again and pulling it down. Shrugging out of the sleeves, you let the dress crumple to the floor and stood in front of him in just your underwear and heels. His eyes roamed your body, dragging over it slowly, and licked his lips. "I could say the same about you. May I?" 

"Please."

Harry's hands were all over you, trailing over the lace of your bra, down to the newly exposed skin. They moved their way back, sliding down until they found your ass. He squeezed, using the grip to pull you into him. You groaned into his mouth, feeling the hard length press against your thigh, "Fuck, Hare."

"That's the idea," he smirked. 

Whacking his chest lightly, you nipped at his bottom lip, earning a rumbling groan from him in return. "Let's move to the bed at least."

"Mmm hold on." 

"Wh-" Before you could question it, Harry grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up.

"A little warning!" You squeaked, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct and hands gripping his shoulders. 

"Where's the fun in that?" 

"Jackass." You kissed him again as Harry started to move, carrying you back towards the bed with ease. 

Dropping you onto the covers, Harry watched as you bounced slightly against the mattress. He stayed where he was, standing at the edge, his eyes back on your body, gazing down at you as though he were memorizing every inch. It was almost too intense yet at the same, it only made the ache between your legs even worse. 

"Harrison," you breathed, snapping him out of his trance. 

"You're...breathtaking," he murmured in awe, climbing onto the bed between your spread legs. The heat crept up your neck at his words, so instead, you grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled him down for another kiss. God, you couldn't get enough of the way his lips felt like against yours. 

He was still wearing too much though. 

You pushed at the white fabric, "Off," you said, shoving it down his shoulders. 

"Yes, ma'am." Harry finished ridding himself of the shirt, giving you your first full look of his chest and muscled arms. 

"Damn."

Harry chuckled, propping himself up over you. His lips found your neck once more, sucking a mark onto the skin before slowly moving down. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along the front of your throat and over your collarbone. Arching up into the kisses as he descended lower to your breasts, Harry seized the opportunity to slip a hand underneath, fingers working expertly to unclasp your bra. It was quickly tossed to the floor with everything else, and Harry's mouth came down to your newly exposed breasts. 

You swore under Harry's ministrations. His mouth was hot and wet, licking and sucking and biting just lightly enough to draw the filthiest moans from you, while dexterous fingers worked the other, pinching and rolling until both were hard and aching. He swapped, giving the opposite sides the same attention. 

Only when he had you writhing and chanting his name, somehow already ridiculously close to your peak, did he pull away, smirking up at you devilishly.

"You're beautiful like this," he said, resuming the open-mouthed kisses as he trailed down your stomach, nipping at your hips as he went.

“Like what?”

“Turning into a mess under my fingers.” As he spoke, Harry hooked said fingers under the hem of your underwear, waiting for you to raise your hips before divesting you of them. Settling more comfortably, hands ran up and down your thighs, sending goosebumps across your skin, as bright blue eyes dragged over your exposed body. It made you feel like a meal with the way he was looking at you like he was ready to devour you. As long as he put his mouth back on you, you were more than okay with that.

"Harry, please." You'd be embarrassed at begging so soon if you weren't so desperately aroused. 

The twinkle in his eye suggested Harry liked it too, and for a horrifying moment, you thought he was going to tease and make you beg more. 

His mouth on your core was heaven. Head thunking back against the pillow you moaned loudly, hips stuttering even as Harry pinned them in place, keeping you exactly where he wanted. His tongue worked you open, lapping, and thrusting forward. 

"You're delicious," he commented, pulling back just enough to wink before diving back in, mouth finding your clit. You cursed, one hand clutching at the pillow next to your head, the other winding its way into Harry's messy hair and gripping tight enough to earn a groan from him. You didn't attempt to pull or guide him, but just feeling the soft curls in your hand was enough to ground you. 

Until Harry slipped a long, thick finger into you, swiftly followed by a second. Working them in and out while still sucking and licking at your clit, he drove you mad. It was mind-blowing and his hums of appreciation only made it worse. You could feel your climax rapidly approaching, a little longer and-

Harry added a third finger and curled them up. 

Toes curling you flung an arm across your mouth to muffle the scream. Your vision went white, body arching off the bed as the pleasure coursed through you. It was intense and utterly, utterly brilliant. 

Harry didn't let up for a second, only finally pulling away when you slumped back onto the bed, and the hand in his hair fell away. He crawled back up your body, cocky grin plastered onto his face as he licked his lips. 

"Good?" He asked smugly, earning himself a half-hearted whack to the chest. 

"Dick," you laughed, still trying to catch your breath. "Don't tell me, one of your PhDs was in oral?" 

Harry chuckled. "Mmm, no. I have had plenty of mouth on experience though."

"I'm sure. Lucky me to get to be on the receiving end."

"I'd say I was the lucky one."

The heat on your cheeks when you pulled him down into a kiss wasn't from the orgasm. 

You kissed him until you felt the sensation come back to your limbs, and felt the persistent hardness, still trapped, pressing against you. You pushed at his shoulder lightly to get him to roll back onto the bed.

"Strip off," you ordered, pushing yourself up. You walked over to your overnight bag, hearing the clink a belt being undone behind you, and rummaged through it, to find the pack of condoms you always kept with you. You'd never expected to use them this weekend, but having some on you was a habit you were now glad you had. 

Turning back around you were greeted to a sight that got you even wetter than you already were. 

Harry was now stark naked, sprawled back on the bed, and slowly stroking himself. Your mouth watered just watching his hand move the impressive length. 

"I really did get lucky," you said, climbing back onto the bed between his legs. You set the condom down and ran your hands up his thighs, enjoying the way the muscles quivered under them. "You're gorgeous."

For a moment he almost looked embarrassed, but then you batted his hand away and replaced it with your own, and the only look left on his face was pleasure. Leaning in you licked a long stripe up his cock, and oh, the breathy little moan he made was the best thing ever. You were rewarded with even more when you kissed the head before taking it into your mouth. You'd barely done anything and he was already at your mercy, chest heaving, hands flexing against the covers. And the noises…fuck, he was trying to keep himself restrained with quiet grunts and groans. 

You wanted to make him fall apart with your mouth alone, pull out all the sounds he was trying to keep at bay, and leave him a wrecked mess. You were already imagining all the little tricks you could use. Tomorrow morning perhaps, tonight you were too desperate to feel him inside you. 

You pulled off him with a final kiss to the head. "You're delicious," you winked. Grabbing the foil packet, it was no time at all before the condom was rolled on and you were straddling his hips. 

Harry's hands came to rest on your own hips. "You're good with this?" 

You smiled, "I am if you are."

"Yes." Then he was helping guide you down onto him your groans coming in unison as he filled you. You already knew you'd never get tired of this; it felt like he was made for you and you for him. You braced your hands on his thighs, letting your eyes flutter shut as you adjusted to his size. Harry's own hands were busy roaming your body, sliding up to play with your breasts then back down to feel your trembling thighs. 

Slowly, you started to rock your hips, the slide of his cock sending the sparks of pleasure up your spine. 

"Y/N," Harry growled through gritted teeth, his grip back on your hips again, not controlling, but firm, fingers pressing into flesh. "you feel, fuck, you feel like heaven."

"Likewise." The word came out more like a whine when Harry moved his hips up to meet your own, making his cock hit just the right spot inside you. 

Dropping forward, you planted your hands on either side of his head and kissed him, not able to get enough of the giddy feeling his lips gave you. Warm large hands slid over your back, roaming and caressing until suddenly you found yourself flipped over, back pressing into the bed once more with Harry hovering over you. 

Legs wrapping around his waist, he set a slow but steady and deep rhythm, sliding most of the way out before thrusting smoothly back in. It was enough to drive you crazy, and soon all you could think about was his cock driving into you, the warmth of his chest against yours, the lust glazed blue eyes gazing down into your own. It was hypnotic. 

The build-up was slower this time, but no less intense. You held onto his shoulders, your moans coming together as he felt you start to tighten around him. 

He bit lightly at your neck, moving up until his mouth was hot on your ear. "Come for me," he growled and that was it. The brainpower required to stifle your cries had long since gone, but Harry pressed his lips to yours, greedily swallowing down your moans.

His hips sped up, making your own orgasm even more intense as he chased his own. 

Finally, he stilled, burying his face in your neck as he came with a half-choked grunt. 

You stayed just like that, both of you panting heavily and clinging to each other until Harry summoned the strength to lift himself back up. "That was…"

"Yeah…it was." You reached up to brush away the hair that had gotten stuck to his forehead and smiled. "You're amazing."

"So are you." Another brief kiss and Harry moved back, carefully pulling out of you. 

For a moment you lay there and watched him, then grudgingly forced yourself up and into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later you re-emerged and handed Harry the glass of water you'd brought with you. He took it with a smile, quickly downing while you finally climbed back under the covers with a contented smile. 

He soon joined you, and it briefly took you by surprise just how fast he pulled you into his arms. Not that you were complaining. You nuzzled into him with a hum. "Today was so much better than I ever could've hoped for."

"It was. I couldn't have hoped for this."

"Me neither. I love you, Harrison."

You felt the kiss to the top of your head, Harry's arms tightening around you. "I love you too."

[retvenkos]

fingerless gloves | m.h.

Playchoices: High School Story - Michael Harrison x Reader, fluff

tw: none

word count: 1.2k

prompt: you saw me shoveling snow all day and i guess it’s pretty obvious how cold i am because you brought me a jacket gloves and hot cocoa

(Y/n) woke in the early morning to a chill; their blanket had fallen off at some point in their hours of sleep, and with it's departure it had invited in the cold. Something about the freezing air brought a sense of clarity and alertness, so instead of burrowing back under the newly retrieved blanket, (Y/n) got up for the day. The morning was frigid and grey, and with it came a sense of peace and calm. 

(Y/n) went about their morning routine, and it wasn't until after they had showered (a terrible necessity, on a morning like this) that they noticed the thick layer of snow outside, covering the sidewalks and dying lawns like a heavy, white sheet. Already there were people outside - most likely freezing, despite their layers of coats and sweaters - trying to carve out the paths that were once driveways, sidewalks, and porches. 

(Y/n) spotted their neighbor and best friend, Michael Harrison, digging away at the icy snow with a bright yellow snow shovel, his brown hair full of white snow and his head bobbing to the sound of his headphones. The wind blew strong enough to make the four walls surround (Y/n) groan, and even from a distance they could see Michael grimace, sticking his shovel into the mountain of snow beside him and breathing onto his exposing fingertips in an attempt to warm them.

Fingerless gloves. (Y/n) rolled their eyes. Michael never changed. 

As they were slipping on their socks, (Y/n)'s phone chirped with a reminder. Homework. (Y/n) sighed with the weight of every other burnt out high school senior but went over to their stacks of textbooks, nonetheless. It was high time they did that essay they had been trying to forget about; better to get it done than take half-credit for turning it in late, right? (Y/n) booted up their computer and pulled out the tangled mess known as their headphones, queuing up a fairly decent playlist. The least they could do was try to make the process enjoyable.

Three hours later, (Y/n) was finished, and still it snowed. In that span of time, (Y/n) counted six times that Michael went out to clear away the snow and each time he was a little more bundled than the last, finally decked out in a sweater, coat, hat, and scarf. The only thing that was still his from his ensemble was a pair of proper gloves, his fingertips still exposed. Every time Michael had to tug on the gloves for warmth or rub his hands together in vain, (Y/n) had to stifle a wry smile. 

When the two were in seventh grade, Cedar Cove had been blessed with a mild winter. The days were warm enough to only need a jacket, and Michael had sworn that fingerless gloves were the superior type of glove because they allowed for better dexterity. (Y/n) had teased him about it, saying that he had forgotten how bad winters could be, and come next year, he would be crawling back to fully fingers gloves. Michael had sworn he wouldn't - no matter how bad the winters were - and so far he hadn't broken his promise. Through the worst of snow storms, Michael refused to buy a pair of intact gloves, and even now he didn't cave. This was by far the worst snow storm yet, and he refused to give in. 

When the Harrison's front door opened for the seventh time, (Y/n) rolled their eyes and pulled on their coat, grabbing something from the deep pocket before making their way into the rather frigid, early afternoon weather. 

Michael's head popped up once they shut the door, as though he had been expecting them all along. Michael pulled out an ear bud as (Y/n) approached, nicking a shovel of their own from near their front door. He greeted them with a smile.

"You're lucky to have a next door neighbor with four kids who are still young enough to enjoy shoveling snow."

(Y/n) laughed and the air was cold enough to make their breath visible, like puffs of white smoke. "They don't do it out of charity, I'll have you know. And I'm sure that by the end of the day, they'll be demanding more money for their efforts."

"They're businessmen, I can respect that." Michael was rubbing his bright red fingers together, again, smiling despite the biting cold.

“How many times have you been out here, today?” The wind buffeted the two of you closer together, but you didn’t mind.

“Too many,” Michael groaned, but his eyes were still bright. “The snow started at six in the morning and I’ve been coming out every half hour, since.”

“Yikes,” (Y/n) breathed and Michael chuckled. “Well, I brought you something, along with my help.” (Y/n) held up a thick pair of gloves, and Michael hesitated for a moment before a grin slowly grew on his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. Your solemn oath won’t be betrayed.” With a scoff, he grabbed them, peeling off his fingerless gloves with ice cold fingers and trading them out.

“You can’t tell anyone - I have a reputation to protect.”

(Y/n) rolled their eyes and punched him on the arm. “I just said I wouldn’t, idiot.”

“Well, it’s in my best interest to make sure.” Michael eyed them fondly, and after a moment, he pulled the beanie he wore off, pushing it onto (Y/n)’s head and pulling it over their eyes. (Y/n) adjusted the hat and caught a glimpse of Michael’s disheveled hair, a perfect compliment to his mischievous smile. He fixed his hair, and fiddled with his new gloves, once more. “How do you always know what I need?”

“Magic,” (Y/n) shot back, taking their shovel and getting to work on the driveway in front of them. The snow had piled up fairly thick, once again, and it would have been beautiful, had they been able to do something other than clear it away. Michael marveled at them for a minute, a gentle warmth spreading through him, although whether it was from the gloves or something else was hard to say.

“You’re amazing, y’know that?” and he had to yell to be heard over the scraping of the shovel and the howling of the wind, but he could tell by (Y/n)’s smile that they heard him.

Michael grabbed his neon yellow shovel and pushed the snow, working in tandem with (Y/n). Snow continued to fall from above, getting caught in Michael’s tousled hair and sticking to (Y/n)’s shoulders. The two made quick progress, clearing the snow from Michael’s driveway, the sidewalks in front, and the pavement that belonged to the elderly couple that lived to the right.

When they were finished, the weather was slowly dying down, snowflakes drifting from above, suspending themselves for a moment before making a soft landing. One fell on Michael’s cheek as (Y/n) invited him over for a cup of cocoa, and it melted on his cheek as he nodded in agreement.

Once safely inside (Y/n)’s home, Michael peeled off his layers of outer wear, padding into their kitchen in a thick pair of socks and his usual green t-shirt. (Y/n) noticed the gloves in his hands, and when he tried to return them, they shook their head.

“Keep them. You’re going to need them again before spring.” They scrambled around the kitchen to get out the ingredients for hot chocolate, and Michael helped fetch the mugs. “Oh, and maybe don’t cut off the fingertips of this pair?”

Michael gave them a deadpan look and (Y/n) grinned.

“Now, what trashy, day time television show are we going to watch?”

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