she’s twenty something, black, a constant daydreamer of biceps and back muscles, adorer of anything horror, wears square black glasses, and smells of sweet black berries! she’s heavily devoted to brian moser and in love with original sin! dexter morgan. ⠀ ૮◞ ◟𑁬 brian’s sweet bunny . . blom

if sensitive to dark content, don’t interact and her ⠀ sweetheart will see you on your way out! ⠀ 𝟅𝟈 ˖ ׁ ᭡ guidelines anons pinterest : navigate

𐙚 ETHEREAL! READER who attracts people and animals so naturally that it’s absurd. bees hover but don’t sting when she’s sitting outside and barista’s give her extra of whatever she purchases just cause. her curiosity is displayed by her constantly studying eyes but her close studying also results in her being slightly mindless to certain things throughout the day. she might forget to text back but never her boyfriends birthday or their anniversary. strangers soften around her—and never forget her once they’ve met.

𐙚 ETHEREAL! READER points out shapes everywhere—clouds, stains in the pavement, accidental accidental hearts in coffee foam. she notices the phases of the moon without checking and feels them settle into her moods. she carries a digital camera everywhere, capturing little canon moments: sunlight on hands, flowers growing through cracks, her boyfriend when he isn’t paying attention. flowers are sacred to her and the key to her heart. she adores them most when they’re given as gifts. she takes amazing care of every plant and keeps dried bouquets long past their beauty because “they’re still trying.”

𐙚 ETHEREAL! READER jewelry that has ladybugs or flowers always resting against her skin, and when she’s nervous she twists her necklace between her fingers. her clothes are soft and familiar: lacy bra peeking above her tank tops, short denim shorts, baby doll tops, flowy dresses, jeans with embroidered pockets, cute cardigans that never stay on both shoulders. nails either a simple white french tips or a fun design. she drinks cold drinks year-round, even in winter.

𐙚 ETHEREAL! READER adores being admired, especially when gifts feel personal—thoughtful, specific, chosen with care. she’s playful, constantly giggling at jokes her boyfriend isn’t part of—jokes that are definitely about him. she’s a massive tease and refuses to acknowledge it. acts confused when called out. lays her feet across his lap and rubs them just to hear him groan. leaves lip gloss stains on his cheek and never tells him. she walks slightly ahead of him but always reaches a hand back to make sure he’s still there. she gets small cuts and scrapes she doesn’t notice until he points them out, laughing softly when he fusses over her.

no work yet, check in later!

hey, sweetheart! (n’ everyone else ❤︎) thank you so much for the sweetest! but m’ perfectly fine, i’ve just been knee deep in so much work and worry that i haven’t had much time to even open tumblr! also, tumblr keeps mature labeling all of my post (even in my drafts . . which i didn’t know they could do) and it’s just annoying so that’s been very discouraging.

https://www.tumblr.com/fallnstr/798414850721234945/dex-who-manhandles-his-girl-without-even?source=share

okay, i did a little weird thing with this! the request sounds os! dexter coded so it’s original sin dexter getting older (original dexter) and being more conscious of his manhandling kink.

original sin! dexter who’s in his early twenties and doesn’t really know how to mange social interactions, let alone interact with his new sweet girlfriend. awkward, finicky, too cautious with his words, afraid they’ll sound cold when he doesn’t mean them to. so when you’re standing at the counter, blocking the drawer he needs, he doesn’t bother with words at all.

a hand lands on your waist. he shifts you aside, simple and thoughtless, the quickest way to get what he needs before he’s late. then he feels your stare burning a hole through the side of his face. he pauses, puzzled, until he closes the drawer and realizes his other hand is still resting on your hip. the moment connects; embarrassment straightens his posture.

“sorry, it’s just faster,” he gives a forced, flash of a half smile.

“it’s fine,” you answer, lips tugging upwards a little. you lean in and give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. “have a good day at work.”

he nods, pretending to move on, but his mind replays the touch—how natural it felt, how easily you’d moved under his hand.

original! dexter who’s now going into his late thirties and can’t bothered to hide his temper when his secrets are piling up and you’re needy for his attention. so when he’s frustrated, not with you— never with you, but with how many lies he has to keep up with he decides on a quiet night. one where you stay quiet and allow him to handle you however unless you really need to speak.

you’re on your back, legs wrapped against his hips as he pounds his dick in you from on top. he’s lost in it all; his anger, annoyance but also the sweet sounds you keep making and the smell of your new perfume. but he’s still slightly annoyed by you sliding up the sheets from his heavy thrust, in hopes of keeping you steady he tries to dig his fingers into your hips but you still move.

and, he’s tired of it. so tired, he groans as he sits up from the crock of your neck to fix your position. he doesn’t say anything directly, just pulls out and moves further down the bed enough to flip you over himself. he drags your arm across your body, rolling you until you’re on your side—then grips your hips, hauling you onto your stomach and up onto your knees in one firm motion.

once you’re bent over, he slips himself back in and begins thrusting again but you’re pulsing on him now. he knows you’re going to come. he leans toward, grabs the back of your neck and tugs your head out of pillows. “you’re gonna tell me when you’re about to come,” he growls through his teeth. you nod profusely, but with your head out the pillows, he notices your whining is higher in pitch than before.

“answer,” he groans, his hips quickly picking up speed.