You'd look hella cute as a lifeless corpse!!

~ How Lovely ~

v bloody version below v

Tonight he would finally pay a visit to his newest obsession. He could almost imagine the horrified look on poor Jonathan’s face, not out of surprise, though, from how fast word travels in this town nothing could be kept a secret for long. He probably knew, but that just made it even better, the loyal warden not able to be at rest because of one single person. A single person with a knife.

Dexter waited in the shadows of a run down looking building, he had watched and memorized Jonathan’s routine and he knew he would be passing through soon. Almost ten minutes passed of nothing but the cold winter air biting at his cheeks before the killer noticed a familiar face.

A horde of crumbling buildings came into view, the blonde curling his lip at their obscuring silhouettes. He’d have to ask the new mayor one day to knock all those damned things down. They were an eyesore. Completely useless.

As he reached the group of buildings, a chill quickly shot down Nathan’s spine and he paused. He was used to it by now. The feeling that something was waiting for him at the end of the road. That Dexter was just biding his sweet time until he could dig his knife into his chest. His heartbeat banged loudly in his ears, threatening to burst out at any moment. The darkness suffocating him.

Struggling to keep calm, the jailor let his gaze swivel around in an attempt to quell his familiar paranoia, looking for the gratification that he wasn’t being watched. Giving a nod of satisfaction at the apparent lack of the serial killer, he continued on until his eyes drifted downwards. They caught on something.

A long, curvy shadow stretching from beside one of the decrepit buildings to Nathan’s feet. A shadow nothing made by man could reproduce.

“No need for threats, love. I only came to chat. I promise I wont harm you.” Dexter unraveled his arms from their previous position and aimed them towards the sky, signaling his lack of weapons. Nathan didn’t need to know he had other tools to aid in his plan.

“If you didn’t mean any harm, you wouldn’t have followed me here in the first place.” Nathan’s hand snaked to his belt as he spoke, searching futilely for the taser he so dearly wanted. A lump rising in his throat once he came out empty-handed.

Internally cursing himself for his lack of foresight, the jailor took one, painstakingly long, nauseated look at the serial killer. His breath becoming increasingly ragged as their eyes met. There was going to be no point in putting up a fight without a weapon.

Turning his back to Dexter, he broke into a sprint. Pleading that he’d at least be be able to put a good 3 yards between him and the serial killer.

The killer watched as he struggled on the ground, attempting to find footing, before he smashed his boot onto Nathan’s spine, ensuring he wouldn’t attempt to make another exit. He then knelt down, his legs on either side of the other man’s hips, keeping him firmly in place, he leaned forwards, his chest against Jonathan’s back.

The killer’s nails kept themselves entwined with Nathan’s blonde hair, dragging the man towards himself. With that terrible grin still plastered on his face.

He couldn’t let the killer win over him. All of his suffering during those endless nights after the execution… couldn’t be for nothing.

“Shhh shhhh, that’s enough.” Dexter shushed him, his voice low but calming. He let the warden’s head fall forwards a little, still holding onto his neck.

The killer released Nathan’s wrist and reached around to his back pocket, grabbing a small bottle of liquid. He had taken it from Gene’s extensive collection of sedatives, unbeknownst to the doctor. Dexter let the other man’s head fall to the ground, freeing up his hand. He then adjusted his weight slightly to keep the exhausted jailor pinned down.

Nathan’s head fell forwards.

—

He shook his head in order to knock away the killer’s hands, accidentally nailing a hit on Dexter’s chin in the process. Out of habit alone, the warden opened his mouth to apologize. He froze mid-sentence.

He could use this to his advantage.

“No worries, love, only a little slip up. I’m sure it won’t happen again, yes?” He snaked his left hand down the warden’s side, the other resting lightly on his throat.

The desire to grab the bastard by the wrists and snap them in half was overpowering. The piece of filth didn’t deserve to speak to him let alone rub his grubby little hands all over him whenever he felt like it.

The jailor went bright red and stared unabashedly at Dexter. Taking note of the smug look in his eyes.

“Yeah? I thought about it.” He didn’t, but he might as well humor the man before he really got to work.

“I’m not good at committing to things, though, I’d most likely regret it the night after. It’s too bad.”

Straining his neck towards his shoulder, the warden dragged the soiled lip across his upper-sleeve and wiped away the remainder of the killer’s saliva.

"After all I've been through, you think I'm just going to release you this quickly? I think the real jokester here is you." Dexter chuckled and stroked the other man's cheek with the back of his hand, admiring his soft skin in comparison to his.

"I'm really protecting you from the dangerous people of this town, you're so naive, Jonathan." The killer cut Nathan off before he could reply, cupping the wardens cheeks with his hands.

Gexter-The story of how the werewolf got Gene and Dexter laid - I’m sorry, it’s not porn (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/3WaUJB0NwA This was written because I noticed a severe lack of good smuts in the Town of Salem fandom. I have permission from the owners of both characters to use them for this fic. 

I fcknig did it guys, the second to last chapter is done!!

Tonight he would finally pay a visit to his newest obsession. He could almost imagine the horrified look on poor Jonathan’s face, not out of surprise, though, from how fast word travels in this town nothing could be kept a secret for long. He probably knew, but that just made it even better, the loyal warden not able to be at rest because of one single person. A single person with a knife.

Dexter waited in the shadows of a run down looking building, he had watched and memorized Jonathan’s routine and he knew he would be passing through soon. Almost ten minutes passed of nothing but the cold winter air biting at his cheeks before the killer noticed a familiar face.

A horde of crumbling buildings came into view, the blonde curling his lip at their obscuring silhouettes. He’d have to ask the new mayor one day to knock all those damned things down. They were an eyesore. Completely useless.

As he reached the group of buildings, a chill quickly shot down Nathan’s spine and he paused. He was used to it by now. The feeling that something was waiting for him at the end of the road. That Dexter was just biding his sweet time until he could dig his knife into his chest. His heartbeat banged loudly in his ears, threatening to burst out at any moment. The darkness suffocating him.

Struggling to keep calm, the jailor let his gaze swivel around in an attempt to quell his familiar paranoia, looking for the gratification that he wasn’t being watched. Giving a nod of satisfaction at the apparent lack of the serial killer, he continued on until his eyes drifted downwards. They caught on something.

A long, curvy shadow stretching from beside one of the decrepit buildings to Nathan’s feet. A shadow nothing made by man could reproduce.

“No need for threats, love. I only came to chat. I promise I wont harm you.” Dexter unraveled his arms from their previous position and aimed them towards the sky, signaling his lack of weapons. Nathan didn’t need to know he had other tools to aid in his plan.

“If you didn’t mean any harm, you wouldn’t have followed me here in the first place.” Nathan’s hand snaked to his belt as he spoke, searching futilely for the taser he so dearly wanted. A lump rising in his throat once he came out empty-handed.

Internally cursing himself for his lack of foresight, the jailor took one, painstakingly long, nauseated look at the serial killer. His breath becoming increasingly ragged as their eyes met. There was going to be no point in putting up a fight without a weapon.

Turning his back to Dexter, he broke into a sprint. Pleading that he’d at least be be able to put a good 3 yards between him and the serial killer.

The killer watched as he struggled on the ground, attempting to find footing, before he smashed his boot onto Nathan’s spine, ensuring he wouldn’t attempt to make another exit. He then knelt down, his legs on either side of the other man’s hips, keeping him firmly in place, he leaned forwards, his chest against Jonathan’s back.

The killer’s nails kept themselves entwined with Nathan’s blonde hair, dragging the man towards himself. With that terrible grin still plastered on his face.

He couldn’t let the killer win over him. All of his suffering during those endless nights after the execution… couldn’t be for nothing.

“Shhh shhhh, that’s enough.” Dexter shushed him, his voice low but calming. He let the warden’s head fall forwards a little, still holding onto his neck.

The killer released Nathan’s wrist and reached around to his back pocket, grabbing a small bottle of liquid. He had taken it from Gene’s extensive collection of sedatives, unbeknownst to the doctor. Dexter let the other man’s head fall to the ground, freeing up his hand. He then adjusted his weight slightly to keep the exhausted jailor pinned down.

Nathan’s head fell forwards.

—

He shook his head in order to knock away the killer’s hands, accidentally nailing a hit on Dexter’s chin in the process. Out of habit alone, the warden opened his mouth to apologize. He froze mid-sentence.

He could use this to his advantage.

“No worries, love, only a little slip up. I’m sure it won’t happen again, yes?” He snaked his left hand down the warden’s side, the other resting lightly on his throat.

The desire to grab the bastard by the wrists and snap them in half was overpowering. The piece of filth didn’t deserve to speak to him let alone rub his grubby little hands all over him whenever he felt like it.

The jailor went bright red and stared unabashedly at Dexter. Taking note of the smug look in his eyes.

"Yeah? I thought about it." He didn't, but he might as well humor the man before he really got to work.

"I'm not good at committing to things, though, I'd most likely regret it the night after. It's too bad."

Tonight he would finally pay a visit to his newest obsession. He could almost imagine the horrified look on poor Jonathan’s face, not out of surprise, though, from how fast word travels in this town nothing could be kept a secret for long. He probably knew, but that just made it even better, the loyal warden not able to be at rest because of one single person. A single person with a knife.

Dexter waited in the shadows of a run down looking building, he had watched and memorized Jonathan’s routine and he knew he would be passing through soon. Almost ten minutes passed of nothing but the cold winter air biting at his cheeks before the killer noticed a familiar face.

A horde of crumbling buildings came into view, the blonde curling his lip at their obscuring silhouettes. He’d have to ask the new mayor one day to knock all those damned things down. They were an eyesore. Completely useless.

As he reached the group of buildings, a chill quickly shot down Nathan’s spine and he paused. He was used to it by now. The feeling that something was waiting for him at the end of the road. That Dexter was just biding his sweet time until he could dig his knife into his chest. His heartbeat banged loudly in his ears, threatening to burst out at any moment. The darkness suffocating him.

Struggling to keep calm, the jailor let his gaze swivel around in an attempt to quell his familiar paranoia, looking for the gratification that he wasn’t being watched. Giving a nod of satisfaction at the apparent lack of the serial killer, he continued on until his eyes drifted downwards. They caught on something.

A long, curvy shadow stretching from beside one of the decrepit buildings to Nathan’s feet. A shadow nothing made by man could reproduce.

“No need for threats, love. I only came to chat. I promise I wont harm you.” Dexter unraveled his arms from their previous position and aimed them towards the sky, signaling his lack of weapons. Nathan didn’t need to know he had other tools to aid in his plan.

“If you didn’t mean any harm, you wouldn’t have followed me here in the first place.” Nathan’s hand snaked to his belt as he spoke, searching futilely for the taser he so dearly wanted. A lump rising in his throat once he came out empty-handed.

Internally cursing himself for his lack of foresight, the jailor took one, painstakingly long, nauseated look at the serial killer. His breath becoming increasingly ragged as their eyes met. There was going to be no point in putting up a fight without a weapon.

Turning his back to Dexter, he broke into a sprint. Pleading that he’d at least be be able to put a good 3 yards between him and the serial killer.

The killer watched as he struggled on the ground, attempting to find footing, before he smashed his boot onto Nathan’s spine, ensuring he wouldn’t attempt to make another exit. He then knelt down, his legs on either side of the other man’s hips, keeping him firmly in place, he leaned forwards, his chest against Jonathan’s back.

The killer’s nails kept themselves entwined with Nathan’s blonde hair, dragging the man towards himself. With that terrible grin still plastered on his face.

He couldn’t let the killer win over him. All of his suffering during those endless nights after the execution… couldn’t be for nothing.

“Shhh shhhh, that’s enough.” Dexter shushed him, his voice low but calming. He let the warden’s head fall forwards a little, still holding onto his neck.

The killer released Nathan’s wrist and reached around to his back pocket, grabbing a small bottle of liquid. He had taken it from Gene’s extensive collection of sedatives, unbeknownst to the doctor. Dexter let the other man’s head fall to the ground, freeing up his hand. He then adjusted his weight slightly to keep the exhausted jailor pinned down.

Nathan’s head fell forwards.

—

He shook his head in order to knock away the killer’s hands, accidentally nailing a hit on Dexter’s chin in the process. Out of habit alone, the warden opened his mouth to apologize. He froze mid-sentence.

He could use this to his advantage.

"No worries, love, only a little slip up. I'm sure it won't happen again, yes?" He snaked his left hand down the warden's side, the other resting lightly on his throat.