✰ You and Dalton get into an argument when you accidentally spill your drink on his new drawing. He kicks you out, but after a gift is left at his door and he finds a reminder of what he feels toward you, he knocks on your door with more than an apology.
✰ angst to fluff, argument, takes place after The Red Door, 1.9k+ words, requested
Dalton Lambert Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
You shift your knees up, tucking your socked feet beneath the comforter on Dalton’s bed as you remain focused on your tablet. Since you last spoke to Dalton, you’ve read a bit, colored with your stylus, and downloaded a new game. Although you’ve been in Dalton’s dorm since you got out of class nearly four hours ago, you haven’t paid much attention to him in the last hour. However, this works for you. It’s become a bit of a routine to spend time together after class while doing your own things. Parallel play, Chris had called it; it's when you do different things of your own interests while being close. Whatever it’s called, you love it.
Perched on Dalton’s bed, mere inches from him where he’s leaned over his drawing table, you’re comfortable. Dalton has become more than a friend, and the more time you spend together, the easier it is for both of you to open up, be yourselves, and show that you feel something toward the person sitting beside you.
Dalton tugs a piece of hair behind his ear in your peripheral, and you shake your head. You’ve been telling him that he either needs to cut his hair or actually use the stash of ponytail holders in his dresser, but when he gets in the zone like this – lost in himself and his memories as his drawing utensils move across the page – that’s the last thing on his mind. You tap an app to open it, shifting closer to the end of Dalton’s bed as your attention shifts away from him again.
Dalton’s hand works faster than his mind as he sketches. He’d had a plan when he sat down: to draw a landscape for Professor Armagan’s class. The second he’d lifted his pencil, however, an image flashed into his mind, along with the soundtrack of a slamming door cutting off screams and the memory of a soft, caring hand against his face. You’d been there after he’d closed the Red Door, though you never pushed him to tell you exactly what happened. Each moment he spends with you, he feels more inclined to tell you everything, to pour his heart out to you, and let you decide if you’d like to fit in his life with everything else. Coming back to the present, Dalton is surprised to see how much progress he’s made. Your face is taking shape on the open sketchpad, exactly as he remembers you looking when you cupped his face for the first time and invited him to let go.
As Dalton focuses on touching up the details of his sketch, you reach toward the table beside his bed. Your eyes don’t leave the tablet screen as you attempt to get your drink, and you don’t realize that your hand is too close to it until it’s too late.
You gasp when the glass tips over, scrambling up as apologies rush from your lips.
“Dalton, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I- I can go get paper towels, and I’ll replace the sketchpad. I should have been more careful, looked at where my hand was.”
Dalton’s chest rises and falls quickly, staring at the soaked paper as you continue speaking. After what feels like an eternity, he pushes his chair back, causing you to flinch, and snatches the paper off his desk as he stands.
“It’s ruined!” he fumes. “Replacing the paper won’t bring back the art!”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, softer as you step back from him.
“I was working on something new, that’s fresh in my mind, but the other drawing- the one that took me three weeks? That’s gone!” he exclaims loudly. “A dry sketchpad can’t replicate it; don’t you get it?!”
You nod, opening your mouth to apologize again. Dalton cuts you off by slamming his hand down on the wet desk, sending drops flying through the air as you tug your hands behind your back, attempting to stay calm and not cry because of his outburst.
“Typical,” Dalton scoffs under his breath. “Why would you care about the art? You just want to feel like someone wants you close.”
He’s not even speaking to you, but his words cut like a knife through you. You swallow, blinking rapidly to stay as composed as possible. Maybe he’ll think you didn’t hear him, see that it was an accident, and apologize.
“Just go,” he says, turning to face you. “Get out.”
“Dalton,” you whisper. "I didn't mean-"
“Save it!” he yells. “I don’t want you here!”
So, you do exactly as he asks. With your chin dropped you rush out of his dorm, leaving your things behind and not noticing that the door doesn’t close behind you. You do want to feel like someone is close, and you thought that was Dalton. Tears begin clouding your vision as you make your way back to your own place. Avoiding any routes Chris may take, you take twice as long to get home, and when you reach your bed, you collapse into it and let your tears fall, sobbing over the end of something that hadn’t even started.
The night after kicking you out, Dalton is sitting slumped at his desk, drawing on a new sketchpad. He’d gone out and bought one before class this morning and was surprised to see a bag with five leaning against his door when he returned for dinner. They’re from you, of course, but he was too angry to consider thanking you, so he tossed the bag in a corner and got to work on recreating his assignment from memory. Squeezing his pencil too tightly, Dalton remembers what happened last night. You’d been apologetic, looked ashamed and close to tears, and he’d kicked you out. His anger was justified, he tells himself, because you know how much this means to him, and you weren’t more careful.
Looking around his desk, Dalton doesn’t locate the pencil he wants. Sighing, he opens a drawer beside him and freezes. There are a few pages inside with various sketches: a few pictures of his family or the house he saw in his nightmares, a quick drawing of you… and the assignment he thought had been in the sketchpad you ruined.
“What did I do?” Dalton asks himself.
Regardless of whether his assignment was intact or not, Dalton shouldn’t have reacted like he did. He had no reason to yell or kick you out, and as he relives it now, he sees the fear and heartbreak in your eyes. You’d tried talking, but he’d cut you off, upset and angry. You’ve never asked him to listen, only invited him to share his burdens with you, but he refused to listen the one time you tried to speak.
Dalton drops the papers back into the drawer and stands. He has to make this up to you somehow, at least apologize. If you don’t want to let him close again, he’ll understand. As he turns to put his pencils away, he notices that your stuff is still in his room. The tablet you’d had yesterday is sitting atop his dresser, your water bottle and backpack are in the corner where he’d tossed the sketchpads, and a hair tie that he hadn’t noticed yesterday appears to have been slid toward him when he’d been lost in his work.
Dalton rakes his fingers through his hair, tugging at his roots. You were trying to take care of him, and he didn’t even notice. With another sigh, Dalton gathers your things, packing your tablet carefully into your bag. He pulls it over his shoulder then and leaves his dorm with two destinations in mind. The first is a nearby mall. And then to you. He can only hope that you’ll listen to him one last time, long enough to hear his apology, even if you want to walk away after that.
Chris hasn’t responded to your text yet, so you use your remote to navigate to your favorite show without moving out of your bed. You haven’t eaten today, didn’t go to class, and if Chris doesn’t help you, you have no way of getting your stuff back from Dalton’s dorm. It doesn’t matter, you lie to yourself. As another episode of mindless television begins, someone knocks on your door. You ignore it, assuming they’ll go away when no one answers.
Less than a minute later, a louder knock. You stand with a groan, not bothering to look through the peephole before you pull the door open.
Dalton softens when he sees you. He’s not smiling, but his shoulders drop and his eyes seem to grow larger at the sight of your puffy eyes and how your hair has been messily pulled back out of your face. Your backpack is over his shoulder, and a few paper shopping bags are hanging from his wrist. Neither of you speak, taking the other in.
“Can I come in?” he murmurs after a moment.
You don’t reply, but step back and gesture in a silent invitation.
“I’m sorry,” Dalton begins as you close the door. You keep your back to him as he continues speaking, saying, “I’m so sorry. There is no excuse for how I treated you. I should have listened, and I know it was an accident. I’m sorry.”
Slowly, you turn to face him, and he sets your bag and the other things he’s brought on your table. When he steps back to wait, you move closer to the table separating you. Dalton nods, pointing at the bags to give you permission to open them. You don’t care about whatever apology gift he may have brought, though, so you round the table and hug him.
Tightening his arms around your waist, Dalton sighs against you and whispers another apology.
“I forgive you, Dalton,” you murmur. “I get it. I should have been more careful. But we both need to do better next time.”
“Right,” he agrees, nodding as he straightens. “I will. I won’t take you for granted again.”
“Thanks for bringing my stuff back,” you add. “I asked Chris to go get it and she left me on read.”
“That sounds about right. The rest of it is just to say I’m sorry, and I want you close, no matter what we’re doing.”
You smile and peek inside the largest bag. Inside, a book you’ve been wanting to read and two face masks, just like the one you convinced him to do that last time he hung out at your dorm.
“There’s also some snacks and drinks in the smaller one; I just got what you usually bring with you. And flowers in the white bag,” Dalton says. “It’s not much-“
“It’s more than enough,” you interrupt. “You don’t have to buy my forgiveness, but thank you for thinking about me.”
“You didn’t have to buy mine either,” he points out. “But thanks for the sketchpads.”
Your brows furrow as you argue, “I didn’t get you sketchpads. I wouldn’t know where to start with something that personal.”
Dalton sighs. His dad has been trying to make up with him for nearly as long as he’s been trying to find the courage to tell you how he feels. He should have remembered that you have a key to his dorm, anyway.
“Dalton,” you call, carrying the bouquet to your small kitchenette. “Could we… could we maybe go to dinner? Actually spend a few minutes talking to each other.”
Dalton smiles so wide it begins to hurt his cheeks. “Only if we make it a regular occurrence,” he counters.
You return to his side and loop your arms over his shoulders, leaning forward before you murmur, “We can arrange that.”
There’s a better angle to draw, Dalton thinks as he meets you halfway, kissing you with a passion that does more than reinforce his apology.
summary : You knew Josh when you were little. Two of you grew up together with Josh’s mother. You are an orphan and your mother used to be Josh’s mother’s best friend. You’ve known since childhood that Josh can see ghosts, more specifically the ghost of a woman who always bothers him. You two went through that kind of thing until you grew up and got engaged. But you didn’t expect that what happened to Josh this time was the worst….
Except you fuck Josh while he’s still possessed.
warning ⚠️ : Josh being possessive. sexually explicit content, fingering, rough and angry sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex.
That morning was the peak when you felt that the person sleeping with you was not really your fiancé, but someone else. Since Elise died, you have had an uneasy feeling that you swore you didn't want your hunch to be true, but as each day goes by Josh's behavior, you are increasingly convinced that your hunch about Josh killing Elise is probably true.
And now you feel so afraid of your own fiancé.
Josh hugged you from behind, his pale face exposed to the morning sun through the window, smiled at you, “I want to make hot coffee, do you want it too, hun?”
You rubbed your eyes, took off the blanket that was originally on your body then you said, “I hate coffee, do you remember?” you said quietly. You were a little scared by the change in Josh’s expression. You know that your fiancé is being possessed, but you have no other choice, you have to assume you don’t know anything for your own safety.
“Tea with a less sugar is enough for me.” you said again, then Josh smiled broadly and kissed your lips gently.
Since Elise's death, the most different thing that you feel about your fiancé is that he hasn’t slept with you again. Of course sex isn’t everything in your life, and you don’t mind if your partner just wants to cuddle and kiss while sleeping all night, but this isn’t like Josh Lambert at all. So far, you have never asked to have sex openly through words, but what you have done is only through touch.
You once tried to have a hot and intense kiss with your fiancé and started touching his cock, but he just smiled and didn’t seems care about it.
“thank you,” you said in a low voice as Josh handed you a cup hot tea.
You and Josh sat at the dining table, facing each other, you said, “Josh… I want to come with you to buy some breakfast on the road later. I haven’t had time to buy food supplies. When you get to school, can I borrow your car to go to the Grocery Store?”
“Yes, yes of course hun..”
Josh smiled, holding your hand gently. You act very awkward in front of him, how could it not be? You literally live at home with your fiancé who is being possessed. But then again, you have no choice, you have to stay calm, until you can contact his mother.
When you arrived at school, you got out of the car. Josh, with his face still looking deathly pale, smiled at you as you adjusted his tie. He touched your face really gently, and then kissed your lips. He did a French kiss by playing with his tongue, you breathlessly said, “stop...Josh...stop. We’re at school.”
Students passed by you and Josh and they giggled and smiled.
You smiled at him, “you are a teacher, there are a right time when we do that. Now go, be a good teacher and not mislead.” You said while pushing Josh’s back.
“Your woman is very sexy, sir!” said a student passing them with his gang. That guy chewed his gum while staring at your butt.
Josh turned his head and looked at the child angrily. you say, "please don't get carried away."
Josh didn't say anything, he just stared at the child's back as he walked further away from them. You noticed that Josh was looking at the man with hatred.
“Josh…”
“I want to go first, it's my time to teach.” said Josh briefly.
When Josh was about to leave, you patted his shoulder, “I’m sorry, I almost forgot to put the breakfast we bought earlier in your bag.” You said, then quickly opened the car door and took the lunch box containing gourmet sandwiches.
“Just give me that…” you said, grabbing his briefcase and opening it.
You gasped and were shocked when you were about to put Josh’s breakfast into his bag. You almost dropped the bag, he was really confused.
“Are you okay, hun?” Josh asked with a confused face.
You covered your mouth, your body felt cold sweat now. Because what you see is a sharp knife inserted between the book and the document paper.
You were so shocked that you couldn't even speak a word. With a shaking body and very scared, you opened the car door and locked it as you got into the car.
“What’s wrong, hun? What’s wrong!” Josh asked, his facial expression changed to anger, and became so scary.
He hit the car window several times, “What's wrong? You can talk to me, don’t just go away!” When you started driving your car, he was still trying to open the car door and hit the car window, but you quickly left the school.
You shed your tears. Your body is still frozen, and you are very, very scared. As you drive, you turn on your phone and open Lorraine Lambert’s number to call her.
It didn't take long, after the cellphone rang, Lorraine voice began to be heard amidst your sobs.
“What's wrong, Y/N? What's wrong with you?” Lorraine asked panicked.
“I saw a knife in Josh's bag earlier, and… and I….” you stopped because you feel out of breath.
Lorraine from the phone line tried to calm you down, “Please calm down, I know you’re very scared right now...” said Lorraine, you turned the steering wheel of your car to the right, towards a quieter road.
“I’m going to your house now, please be careful on the road.” said Lorraine then quickly turned off the phone.
When you got home, you saw Lorraine waiting for you in the yard. You quickly ran and hugged her. Your body is shaking because you’re still very scared. You guys went into the house and from there you told Lorraine everything.
“I think that when Josh went into that other world, something else came back.”
I know, I can feel. I think he's possessed. you said while lowering your head, “He’s different, I... I feel like I live in this house with a stranger.”
“You have to leave this house quickly.” said Lorraine in a serious tone.
“No, I’m fine. I can live with him as if nothing had ever happened before,” you said, wiping your tears, “I know he’s there, Mom, I know,” you said. You really consider Lorraine like your own mother, considering that she also raised you.
“Y/N…. you have to be careful. I will ask them for help, you hold on.”
You hated that this was all happening to you again, but you had no other choice.
After a long conversation that morning, now Lorraine has left you alone at home. This is your decision, to face everything alone. Even though you are often haunted and followed by the ghost of a woman dressed in white, you are okay with that and you know you can survive in that house until...
You feel someone’s breath on your chest then the breath moves towards your neck. A soft and seductive breath making you wake up and realize that you were fast asleep on the couch after Lorraine’s visit.
You saw those blue eyes that looked so perfect with that deathly pale face that showed so much lust.
Without warning, Josh grabbed your body which was still on the couch. He bit your neck aggressively and full of lust. You froze, and surprisingly, you didn’t fight back at all. You just woke up and suddenly your fiancé who is being possessed is try to fuck you after you haven’t done it for a long time.
You know that he’s being possessed, but you’re suddenly weak, because miss that body…
and that dick.
“Hun, I’m really sorry... I should have explained to you about earlier. What you see… it was a carving knife. The art teacher there asked me to bring an art carving knife for wood carving leather crafts, because I used to have one..” Josh said in a very soft voice against your cheek.
“No, it wasn’t a carving knife, I saw it!” you said trying to defend yourself.
But Josh held your body, “Shhhh, hun, please stop being like this. You left me like before, all this time you were also scared and paranoid.”
“No, but…” you said but Josh quickly covered your lips with his index finger, “don't ruin this moment, bitch.”
Josh’s expression changed drastically to become very scary. He bit your neck causing you to let out a moan from your mouth. He put his body on top of you, his lips moved to your jaw and he kissed and lick your jaw very aggressively.
You felt Josh’s breath rising and falling on your neck and jaw. He said, “Your fragrance makes me even more crazy… than what I did before.”
You don’t understand what Josh means, about what crazy things he did before. You try to fight him, but you can’t. You were too weak for him, and he put you in paradise.
Josh’s right hand entered your thin shirt and he immediately opened your bra from behind. His fingers traced the perfect shape of your breasts through your shirt, and he played with your nipples with lazy movements.
You can’t deny it. He look dead and pale but that made him look even hot.
Josh opened your thin shirt roughly, almost tearing it. He unbuttoned your pants, and now inserted his fingers into your clit. He played with your clit then inserted two fingers into your pussy, he’s making you moan so loud.
He looks at you with a satisfied smile because he has made your pussy very wet.
Josh opened your leggings roughly. He starts to take out his hard cock and insert it into your vagina very quickly.
You can feel the couch that you’re laying on is very wet now. Josh fucked you very fast. Makes you moan very loudly all the way to the end of the room. Josh- who incidentally you know that he’s not really Josh because he’s being possessed, honestly…. whoever he is now, he fucks you really good.
“You’ve been waiting a long time for my cock into your pussy, right… slut?” said Josh then he started to speed up his movements. “You know what I’m doing, but you choose to stay here because you are a miserable bitch who wants me to fuck so hard like this?”
Josh kissed your lips very aggressively, then he choke your neck. He speeds up the movement of his hard big cock in you, making you even more out of breath because he’s choking you harder.
“Please...” you groaned, trying to pull Josh’s hands away which were choking your neck.
You thought at that moment he was going to kill you, but apparently he didn’t. He released the choke when he was cum in you.
Josh this time hugged your body, and continued his movements, which this time were gentler than before, he continued without removing his cock from inside you. It's like, he won’t stop until you’re completely cum.
“Why are you so beautiful...”Josh said hoarsely in your ear, he kept kissing your lips brutally, “you’re mine, no one can see your body and praise you except me.” Josh said against your lips.
He bites your neck again, and now your neck is very visible with red marks. You felt his big cock speed up in your pussy, and Josh kissed your jaw, you were instantly at your climax. Josh quickly takes his cock out of your pussy and then you cum everywhere.
Josh kissed you, “It was all worth it.”
You looked away and said, "Josh.. what were you doing before?” You emphasized the last word as he said it earlier.
Josh smiled as if he didn't know anything, “What? What do you mean?”
Can you write something like your ‘first time’ fic with Dalton, except the reader is a virgin and Dalton isn’t, maybe Dalton is the reader’s first bf too?
rocky road- d. lambert
a/n: i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this! appreciate yall so much <333
it’s one of the first warm days on campus, after a long and brutal winter.
the courtyards are full of your classmates, the dorms practically empty as everyone tries to soak up the first few rays of sunlight.
you and your boyfriend, ever the introverts, decided to take advantage of the empty dorms, grabbing ice cream from the place right outside campus and eating it on his bed. dalton’s never been the type for a big social gathering, preferring his own company to anyone elses’. that is, until he met you. you, with your bright smile and warm personality, always ready to listen to his ramblings, or just let him sit in silence with you.
that’s what you two are doing today, finishing off your ice cream and taking turns catching up. dalton’s in the middle of a rant about his partner for a group project, when you notice a smear of his rocky road ice cream on his cheek.
“so i emailed my professor to let her know bryson had done zero percent of his- hey!”
without thinking, you’d leaned forward, licking the side of his face.
“what? it’s too good to waste.” you defend yourself. “i’m listening, keep going.”
“that’s pretty much it.” dalton shrugs, “that’s all i was gonna say before you licked me.”
you shrug, smiling.
“ok, you go next. did your roommate finally break it off with that tinder dude?”
“no! i don’t understand why. dal, when i tell you this man is the literal worst-“
your ice cream drips onto your thigh, the coldness stunning you momentarily.
the story you were about to tell dies on your tongue as dalton’s meets the skin of your thigh, licking off the drops of ice cream off your skin.
he comes back up, running a hand through his hair to push it back, then notices your flabbergasted expression.
“something on your mind?”
“you just-“ you gesture to your thigh, dalton raising an eyebrow.
“yeah? you licked the side of my face earlier.”
“that was your face, though, this was-“ you trail off.
dalton smiles softly at you, heat creeping into your cheeks at the way he’s looking at you.
“different?” dalton offers. when you don’t respond verbally, he shakes his head.
“tell me.”
“it was different. it felt- i just pictured-“
you sputter, your mouth moving faster than your brain.
“pictured what, baby?” dalton urges you. when you look down, silent, he grabs your hand, squeezing it lightly.
“hey, i’m sorry. i know you’re a virgin and i understand if you’re not-“
“i pictured your face—lower.”
you’re not sure where the confidence came from, and judging by the way his eyebrows shoot up, neither is dalton. he puts his hand on your knee, looking at you for assurance. you nod, heart in your throat.
“lower like—“ dalton moves his hand up, towards the middle of your thigh. “here?”
“no, lower like-“ your breath catches when he finally inches his hand towards where you need him, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your shorts.
“i can make that happen,” dalton offers, “if you want.”
you nod rapidly, dalton’s intense blue eyes meeting yours.
“i need to hear it, baby.”
“yes.” you breathe out.
dalton grins at you, leaning in for a kiss. this one’s different than the other times he’s kissed you—he’s needy, desperate to get his mouth lower, and lower, and…
he leans into you, your legs parting around him as you lay back into his pillows.
he pulls back from the kiss, leaving you dizzy as he tugs the hem of your top upward.
you oblige, lifting your arms up so he can get the item off as fast as possible. it’s flung into some random corner of your room, dalton moving to your bra before you can complain.
“can never fucking— there we go.” dalton gets the clasp undone, the way he phrased it reminding you once again he’s more experienced than you. it’s not something you should be insecure about, yet it is anyway, and dalton picks up on your shift in mood.
“baby?” dalton asks , fingers still pressed into your back. “you okay?”
the softness in his voice makes your stomach flip, and before you can even attempt to lie to him, it spills out.
“i’m just worried i won’t be good enough for you.”
dalton’s gaze softens, and he moves back up. you think he’s going to kiss your lips again, but he moves up higher, pressing his lips to your forehead. then, the bridge of your nose, then, under your eye. you giggle at the feeling of his lips on your face, and feel him smile against you.
“there you are.” dalton pulls back to look at you. “you are more than good enough for me. you’re everything.”
you catch yourself nodding as you look into his eyes, almost hypnotized.
“this isn’t a competition, okay? i just wanna make you feel good.” dalton assures you. he redirects his attention back down, sliding the straps of your bra off your shoulders.
“let me?” he offers.
you know better than to stay silent, but what comes out of your mouth next surprises both of you.
“please.”
dalton’s pupils dilate. “oh, good girl-“
and he’s kissing you again, the intensity turned up somehow as he pulls off your bra.
before he does anything else, he pulls his own shirt off, flinging it like he did yours as he leans back into you, skin to skin.
“you’re warm.” you tell him, dalton laughing softly at your honesty.
“you are, too. and soft,” he trails his fingertips up and down your sides softly, his delicate touch making you shiver.
“you’re so responsive,” dalton tells you, “i love it. helps me figure out what feels good.”
“when i touch myself-“ you start, growing shy when you realize what you’re about to describe.
“go on,” dalton urges you, the sweetness and genuine curiosity in his gaze giving you the push you need.
“i start out by playing with my chest.”
dalton nods, sliding his hands up. he moves to cup your breasts in his hands, running his thumbs over your nipples. he groans softly as you buck into him, surprised at how quickly he’d found one of your sweet spots.
“like that?” dalton asks, already knowing his answer.
“yes.” you sigh, letting his hands work you over.
“never had a tongue on them, though. right?” dalton asks again. “bet that’d feel even better.”
“please, dalton-i wanna feel your mouth again.”
he tilts his head back slightly, adam’s apple on display before he moves back down. “you beg so nicely.”he tells you, not giving you any time to respond before he licks one of your nipples, leaning back and blowing cool air on it as he plays with the other one.
“oh-“ you moan out, dalton leaning back in to the other nipple and repeating his actions.
“look at you.” dalton marvels, sliding his hands back down again. “as fun as this is, i wanna taste you.”
the way he talks about it sends a pang between your legs, parting them further as dalton moves backwards. he reaches the hem of your shorts, grabbing the waistband and tugging as you lift your hips.
“you’re just as eager as me.” dalton jokes.
“maybe more.” you joke back. “only by a little, though.” you smile, dalton returning it before his gaze drops back down between your legs. he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down, you repeating your previous motion to fully reveal yourself to him.
“oh.” dalton marvels to himself. “baby, look at you.” before you can even think of shutting your legs, he seemingly reads your mind, grabbing one of your thighs and pressing down to keep you open for him.
“i’m gonna take my time with you.” dalton tells you, eyes flicking from yours back down to your pussy. with his free hand, he trails a finger up through your slit, slowly dragging your wetness upwards.
“dalton-“ you whine, desperate for more than what he’s giving you.
“i know, baby.” dalton attempts to soothe you. he presses an open mouthed kiss to your thigh, fingertip ghosting over your clit.
“i need you, please-“
he pulls away, cool air settling against the patch of your skin he’d been kissing moments earlier. you’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he finally has mercy on you, dragging his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with his tongue once he reaches it.
you moan embarrassingly loud, thankful that your neighbors work the night shift as he starts to work you over. he’s slow and meticulous, savoring you as you whine and gasp under his mouth. it’s almost too much, and you find yourself squirming underneath him.
he puts a stop to that quickly, wrapping his arms around your thighs and tugging you closer to his face.
“don’t run from me.” he warns you, the seriousness in his voice making you dizzy as he continues to eat you out.
“won’t—“ you moan, voice giving out to a whine as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks. “i promise, just wanna be good—wanna be your good girl.”
he moans against you, the vibrations rolling through your body as you shudder.
“fuck—gonna be the death of me.” he mutters. before you can respond, he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, whatever comment you were going to make giving way to a loud whine.
“oh my god, dalton!” you cry out, hands flying to his hair to grab onto something, anything to keep you in your body.
his jaw goes slack against you as you tug, pulling him as close as you can as he continues to lick you. your brain feels fuzzy, each stroke of dalton’s tongue feeling like a little jolt of electricity as you get closer.
“baby,” you gasp, “i’m so close, please-“
dalton speeds his motions up, looking into your eyes as he does. the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter, until dalton pulls away, lips making a lewd smacking sound against you.
“do it, angel,” he encourages you, “cum on my face.”
the sultriness of the words he chooses and the harshness he sucks your clit with push you over the edge, nearly screaming dalton’s name as you cum.
he detaches himself from you, shaking his hair out of his face and moving to get on top of you.
“feeling good?” dalton asks you, only able to give him a dazed nod as your chest heaves.
“catch your breath.” he tells you sweetly, kissing your temple as you finally come down.
“i’m good. i’m really, really good.” you tell him, finally able to speak again.
“good. i can, uh-“ dalton sputters, as if he didn’t just tell you to cum on his face moments prior, “i can tell. do you want some water, or-“
“i want you.” you tell him. “i’m ready, i want you.”
“you don’t have to, i’m fine just laying here-“
“dalton, please fuck me.” you plead, his eyes darkening as you do.
“well, i can’t tell you no, not when you beg like that.” dalton relents, kissing you chastely before he pulls back to dig through his drawer.
“there we go.” he pulls a condom out of the drawer, tearing the wrapper open. he discards it soon after, pulling down his boxers and letting his already hard length spring free.
“woah.” you marvel. “is that-“
“because of you? yeah. you try listening to your girlfriend’s pretty moans with her thighs around your head without getting hard.”
you grin up at him, watching him intently as he slides the condom on, pumping himself a few times before he moves to line himself up with you.
“hold onto me.” he tells you, you obliging as he slowly starts to push himself in.
“oh-“ you gasp, clutching at dalton’s shoulder blades as his tip starts to stretch you out.
dalton pants above you, tilting his head back as he pushes in further. “so fuckin’ tight, shit—you okay?”
“yeah,” you tell him, “yeah, just keep going slow for a bit.”
dalton nods, grabbing his headboard so hard his knuckles turn white as he pushes further.
“almost all the way in,” he tells you, “you’re taking me so good, pretty girl. you ready?”
you nod, looking into dalton’s eyes as he finally bottoms out, his blue eyes rolling back at the feeling.
“oh my god-“ dalton moans, “fuck.”
the dull ache of being stretched open for the first time subsides pretty quickly, because the pain isn’t as strong as the arousal you feel from watching dalton. he looks angelic above you, face glistening, hair still messed up from your hands.
“move, dalton, please-“
he finds his pace quickly, his eagerness making your head spin as he fucks you. it’s like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to feel you like this, wrapped around him, clinging to him like he’s your savior.
“sweetest pussy i’ve ever fucked, shit-“ dalton groans, his words making your stomach flip. “‘s all mine, right? you’re all mine?”
“yes!” you whimper, scratching down his back. “i’m yours, i’m yours-“
dalton tucks his face into your neck, sucking and biting the skin there, marking you from the inside out as his thrusts get sloppier.
“i’m so fuckin’ close, you gonna cum again? gonna cum around this dick like the good girl you are?”
before you can answer, dalton brings his thumb down to circle your clit harshly, a broken moan clawing it’s way out of you.
“do it baby, cum with me, i’ve got you, i’ve-“
your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, clenching around dalton as you scratch his back.
“good girl, good fucking girl, good—oh, fuck! “
dalton’s thrusts slow to a stop as he pumps the condom full, head hanging low, strands of his hair brushing against your forehead.
he leans down farther, kissing your forehead again as you both catch your breath.
“you’re so beautiful.” dalton marvels, moving the hand not supporting him to caress your face. “how are you feeling?”
“tired.” you tell him honestly.
“aw, i wear you out?” dalton teases you. “i’m gonna pull out, ok?”
he eases himself out of you, tying off the condom before tossing it into his trashcan.
“here,” he hands you the hoodie he’d been wearing and your panties, pulling his boxers and sweatpants back up as you get dressed. he climbs back over you, pulling you into his bare chest as he lays back down.
“i can hear your heart beating.” you tell him, slinging an arm around his waist as he tucks his chin on top of your head. he rubs your back, content to just lay with you.
“get some rest, pretty girl. i’m not done with you yet.”
A/N: there's not nearly enough stuff on here for dalton, so of course, i had to assist! i mean, the movie is still pretty new.. so that's probably why but whatevs :).
Quiet, slow music hummed in your ears, flowing through your headphones as you tapped your pen against your lower lip. You stared down at your nearly blank journal page, brows furrowed and mouth turned in a scowl. You couldn't think of anything, not one idea for your paper, and it was bugging the hell out of you. You groaned after a hot minute of practically boring holes into the paper with your gaze, yanking out your headphones and laying your head on the desk.
"The universe is against me, I know it," you huffed, whiny and defeated. Dalton, who had been sketching and watching you work for the better part of two hours, looked up from his own book. He chuckled, but still smiled apologetically, getting up off the bed and walking over to stand beside you. He looked down at your paper, one of his hands rubbing your back with a gentle touch. "No it isn't, you've never done anything to the universe," he argued lightheartedly, crouching down next to the chair and tapping your back gently. You didn't respond, still wallowing in your own little vat of self pity.
"Hey, come on. You're gonna figure it out," he reassured, reading what you had so far before turning to you. He couldn't see your face, but he knew you probably had on that frustrated pout of yours, the one he secretly loved so much. You peeked down at him, sighing when you saw his face. Those eyes always pulled you in, took your mind off whatever it was you were even upset about it the first place. You rotated the chair to face him, leaning down and putting your hands on the sides of his face.
He was so sweet, so supportive despite you being just a little dramatic about your project. It wasn't due for a week, and your partner was doing half of it anyways. Your tense expression relaxed as you brushed his hair out of his face, cracking a small smile. "You're right, you're right. I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?" you asked, earning a little laugh. He shook his head in your hold, resting his hands on your knees and leaning up.
"Not ridiculous, you just worry too much," he teased, gaze flicking between your eyes and lips. You frowned a bit, still messing with his hair as you felt your face heat up. He was right, you did worry quite a bit. About your classes, him, work.. you couldn't help it. You moved your hand to cover his mouth when you saw him start to lean in, pushing his head away with a playful scoff.
"Better watch yourself, Lambert. I still gotta focus," you said, trying to sound annoyed. Really, you just sounded amused.. which you were. He groaned against your palm, his hand darting up to grab your wrist. He kept your hand against his face, turning it a bit and pressing a small kiss to the skin. "I'll help you de-stress," he said, his words a whisper between his kisses. He trailed the kisses up your arm, listening to your hesitant sigh.
"My roommate will be back soon," you reminded him, trying to ignore how good his lips felt. It was hard to say no to him, but your poor roommate had been traumatized enough times. She had already caught you twice, once being on her birthday. She always insisted it was fine and she should've knocked, but you always insisted it was your fault, and she shouldn't have to knock to get into her own dorm. Still, you really needed to start shooting them a warning text..
"I'll be quick. I swear," he vowed, his gaze longing and fervent. You couldn't help but get deja vu everytime you saw him between your legs, always remembering the first time he'd ever settled himself down there. That was over a year ago, when he was far more inexperienced and you had to teach him what you liked, etc. Now, he knows exactly how to get you to cum on his tongue over and over, and it's one of his favorite things to do. He watched you get lost in thought, that familiar look in your eyes telling him you were starting to give in.
"Yeah, that's it," he mumbled, his free hand squeezing your knee. He pushed lightly against it, trying to get you to open up your legs for him with encouraging hands. Your stomach did backflips when you saw how worked up he was getting, heat pooling between your thighs. Biting down on your lower lip and peeking at the small alarm clock on your desk, you hesitated, glancing between him and the paper.
"Just for a little while, then I'll let you work," he promised, thumbs rubbing anxious circles on your skin. You gaged his pleading gaze, warmth spreading over your skin where he touched you. You looked down at his hands, biting back a quiet noise. You always forgot how big they were, how long the fingers stretched.. you didn't stop him when they hooked into the waistband of both your shorts and underwear.
"Lift your hips for me," he murmured, the subtle dominance in his voice making your knees weak. You did as he said, heart pounding as you watched him peel them off your legs with ease. You slowly started to spread your legs apart once the fabric was discarded, feeling even more vulnerable when he inhaled sharply at the sight. Just the thought of him touching you more was enough to get you soaked, arousal glistening for him to see. You watched his eyes light up, legs shifting underneath him so he was on his knees as his hands gripped your thighs. He tugged you closer to the edge of the chair, a seemingly pleased hum emitting from his throat.
"Knew you'd like it," was the last thing he muttered before pushing his face forward, pressing his tongue flat out to lick a slow, greedy strip up your dripping cunt. The suddenness made you gasp, the warmth pulling a mewl from you as one of your hands laced into his hair. His name rolled off your tongue when he pressed a kiss to your clit, his lips soft and welcoming. Dalton peered up at you through dark lashes, one hand releasing your thigh. You squirmed under his stare, about to whine for more when he started gently sucking your clit between his lips. The moan you produced was intoxicating, filling his ears and egging him on.
You were too caught up in the feeling of his mouth to notice his hand moving just below his chin, index finger prodding at your sopping hole and catching you off guard. He was quick to smack one of your thighs upon them tightening around his head, a wordless warning that left your skin stinging. You pushed your legs back open shakily, fingers tightening as you pulled at his hair. The action instantly enticed a heavy moan, vibrating through your swollen clit and making you buck your hips involuntarily. The deep, muffled chuckle he released against you was unreasonably sexy, reminding you how desperate you were already acting for him.
You were about to apologize quietly, when his finger abruptly moved into the comfort of your warm walls, pumping slowly and clearing any considerations of speaking. Instead, you leaned against the back of the chair, breathing shallow and quick. "Dalton," you whimpered, the closeness making your whole body ignite with need. You were sure he could feel you practically throbbing against his lips, even more so when his middle finger joined the index. You almost felt guilty pulling at his pretty hair, the brown strands soft and silky between your fingers. You loosened them, carding through his hair instead in an attempt to taciturnly make up for the rough grip.
His fingers picked up speed when he felt you clench around them subtly, unable to help the proud feeling he was consumed with. He loved that despite his unruly life, nothing could affect his ability to make you feel good. Nothing could stop him from loving and caring for you, and that was good enough for him. He tried not to get all sappy, focusing on your trembling figure instead. He ignored the painfully hard bulge in his jeans, craving your release almost as much as you were. He longed to feel your slick coat his fingers, his movements picking up a bit. When his fingers started to curl, you just about lost it, heels digging into the ground as you tried to stabilize yourself.
"Mmh, don't stop," you begged, knowing damn well it wouldn't be the first time he took away your orgasm at the last minute. He had no ulterior motives tonight, however. He just kept up what he was doing, darkened eyes staying on you nearly the whole time. His cock ached at the sight of your face contorting in pleasure, that familiar little 'o' forming on your face as you cried out. His lips twitched up when you came undone on his face, his eyes rolling back just a bit as your familiar taste invaded his tongue. The majority collected on his fingers as he licked and tortured your overstimulated clit, your orgasm slowly beginning to subside as he helped you ride it out.
He pulled his fingers out, pulling back and inspecting them. He grinned at the sight of the sticky, pale substance, catching your tired eyes before pushing them past his lips. He groaned softly around the digits, sucking them completely clean. It wasn't enough, his greed getting the best of him as he leaned back in. You borderline yelped when he started sloppily lapping up the leftover arousal soaking your cunt, your eyes brimming with tears as his nose rutted against your clit.
"W-wait.." you begged softly, your legs twitching everytime he bumped into the sensitive spot. He pulled away when he was satisfied, shifting himself onto his feet and standing up. He leaned down to put his hands on the arms of your chair, caging you in with a sweet, yet heated gaze. You couldn't help but shudder when he got a bit closer, your body buzzing as you caught your breath. He tilted his head, closing the space between you and pressing his lips to yours. You involuntarily moaned against him, hands grabbing at his shirt and tugging him closer. Your eyes blinked shut when you tasted yourself on him, cheeks burning with the realization.
Dalton was starting to get needy himself, kissing you with affectionate, hungry lips. You made a surprised little noise when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the kind of noise that made him yearn for you like no other. He felt a little guilty, especially since he'd promised you to be quick, but god, he couldn't stop thinking about how good you felt around him, how perfectly he filled you.. it was driving him insane.
"I wanna feel you," he practically moaned against your lips, his voice pleading and breathless. The blunt words made you wet all over again, a borderline inaudible sound leaving you as you forced yourself to shake your head. He broke the kiss, trailing smaller ones to your jaw. One of his hands moved to the side of your neck, holding you still so he could start nipping at the soft skin. Your pulse thrummed against his palm quickly, which he allowed to flatter him just a little.
"C'mon, she won't come home," he murmured, as if he could read your mind and tell exactly what was making you anxious. He wasn't actually sure when she'd be back.. but he didn't mention that part. He was about 70% sure he had enough time, and that was good enough for him. He waited while you pondered it, his lips pressing into the space where your jaw met your neck. You groaned, mentally cursing yourself before lacing your fingers back into his hair. He hummed at his little victory, hands beginning to wander your figure.
You knew you shouldn't, it was unfair to your roommate.. and the neighboring dorms that could probably hear you if they listened hard enough. You just couldn't help yourself, you rarely could around him. Your hands were shaking slightly in his hair when he lifted you off the now wet chair, crossing the small room to get back to your bed. He pushed his sketchbook off the comforter and onto the floor, setting you down on the mattress before standing. You felt exposed, reaching down and trying to shove your shirt over your bare bottom half while he stood over you.
The way he chuckled had your arousal leaking onto the bed beneath you, his hands moving to start undoing his belt. He watched you, taking his sweet time, tilting his head just a bit when you whined beneath him. "Don't be embarrassed, I've seen it all before," he reminded you, as if you had somehow forgotten how he was practically making out with your pussy not 5 minutes earlier. Your face got hot all over again, thighs clenching together at the sound of his voice. You always got so desperate after your first release, craving more of that syrupy sweet pleasure that only he could provide.
The way he was affecting you didn't go unnoticed by him, his teeth flashing in a grin as he tugged the belt from the waistband of his jeans. He began undoing the button and zip with one hand, the other gesturing toward your half naked body. "You're gonna keep that on for me, hm?" he mumbled, his eyes swimming with lust as they raked over every inch of your form. The shirt was his, otherwise it would have been on the floor in seconds. His favorite thing in the world was fucking you while you wore his clothes, and he did it every chance he got (which was a lot, since you were almost always in one of his shirts or jackets).
You nodded shyly in response to his question, not trusting your voice. You bit down on your tongue when he started tugging his jeans down, eyes greedily lingering on the front of his black boxers. He felt his cheeks heat up just a little at your attention, tilting his head down and pretending to mess with the hem so you wouldn't see his reddened cheeks. You watched his hands carefully, rubbing your thighs together when he continued to take his time.
"Please, I need you so bad," you whimpered, catching his attention. You didn't usually say stuff like that, claiming it sounded silly coming from you. The simple sentence sent a throb through his already aching abdomen, his hands pushing down the fabric without any more hesitation. You could have cum just from the sight, abdomen tensing with need. "Yeah? Need me to make you feel good?" he cooed, cocky now that he'd gotten the reaction out of you. He didn't wait for your answer, climbing over you and putting his big hands on your thighs. He tugged you closer, pushing your legs open with his eyes pinned down. He could have wept at the sight of you all wet for him again, making a small mess on your sheets and covering your inner thighs with the shiny, translucent slick.
"You're so pretty," he half-moaned, one of his hands leaving your thighs. The compliment had you reaching up, hands roaming his chest needily. He gave no warning before he dragged his index up your slit, collecting some of the liquid desire on his fingertip and slipping it past his lips. Your whole body warmed at the sight, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You watched him lean down more, positioning himself between your legs and lining his swollen, eager tip up with your dripping hole. His eyes flickered up to yours when you gasped quietly, the hand on your thigh slipping up to grasp your hip soothingly.
"You ready?" he asked, his tip already wet from nuzzling into your folds. You whispered a deprived, desperate 'yes,' so clearly craving him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, trying to somewhat distract you with the gesture while he started to push himself inside your tight, wet heat. You both gasped in unison, yours shakier than his due to the stinging stretch between your legs. He kissed all over your face, mumbling quiet apologies as you winced and huffed with every inch he gave you. No matter how many times you did this, he always had to start slow with you. The initial stretch was always the hardest part, but after that, it was typically smooth sailing.
By the time he had bottomed out, you were already pretty much used to it, lips catching his as soon as you were given the chance. You whimpered when he started pulling back again, the drag of him along your walls stirring up pleasure in your abdomen. You could hear him groan into your mouth, hand slipping under your shirt as he moved. He palmed at your right tit, squeezing the soft mound of flesh gently. His slightly rough hands were warm and comforting, touching you just right as his hips started moving at a steady, slow pace.
The moan you produced was heavenly, louder than before as pleasure trickled across your body. Dalton found himself disappointed that he didn't get to truly appreciate the sounds you were making, breaking the sloppy kiss so he could hear you properly. His pace was gradually increasing, his own quiet moans giving you all sorts of funny feelings in your belly. He leaned up a little more so he could look down at what he was doing, groaning at the sight. You peeked down, too, biting your lower lip when you realized how wet you were getting him. His dick was partially covered in a creamy white, making a wet, almost squelching sound with every thrust. You released an embarrassed whine, the lewd sounds making you feel ten times more exposed.
Dalton didn't share your feelings of embarrassment at all. In fact, he was going fucking nuts about the fact that he could literally hear how soaked he made you. His thrusts started to get harder, the sound of skin on skin mixing in with your whiny moans as he continued watching himself fuck you. The way his big cock disappeared, reappeared, disappeared, reappeared over and over was fucking hypnotizing. The only thing that could tear his gaze away was the sound of you gasping, hands dropping down to grip the sheets as your back arched up a bit.
"Oh, right there," you pleaded, eyes fluttering shut as your head fell back into the pillows. Dalton quickly realized what he was doing to you, a proud little smile on his face as he chuckled breathily. "Mmh, feels good, huh?" he cooed, knowing you couldn't answer as his hips pushed against you to deliver a particularly hard thrust. Your legs started to tremble, a loud, desperate cry escaping your lungs when he started intentionally pushing against that perfect spot over and over. Your toes curled, legs wrapping loosely around his waist as you tried to get him closer, deeper. Something must of been in the air today, because you couldn't remember the last time you were this frantic for him.
You were wrapped around him just right, snug and warm and wet. He felt his tip kiss your cervix, shushing you softly when you whimpered and squirmed under him, not knowing what to do with yourself. His libidinous sounds encouraged you, the noise coaxing you closer and closer to your second release. One of your hands moved from the sheets, trying to pry his from your hip so you could interlock your fingers. He noticed right away, releasing his bruising grip and taking your hand, pushing it against the bed as he fucked you harder.
"Dalton, 'm gonna cum," you managed to warn softly, a choked whine following quickly after. He hummed, an adoring smile pulling at his lips as he gazed at you. He didn't take his eyes off you once, just rubbing an encouraging thumb across the back of the hand he held. "That's it, cum on my dick," he purred, the filthy words catching you off guard. Your legs tightened around his waist when you felt it all wash over you, shaking and crying as he fucked you through it. You heard a raspy 'fuck' over the roaring in your ears, a whimper sneaking it's way into your boyfriend's moans as he felt his own orgasm snap. He pushed himself as deep as he could manage, head falling on your shoulder as he filled you up with warm, thick cum. It was mind numbing, your pussy still twitching and fluttering around him as his thrusts continued. You were overstimulated, but you wanted to let him ride it out.
"Atta girl," he mumbled, his thrusts slowing to a stop as he panted heavily. He pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to your shoulder before he pulled back, blue eyes meeting yours. His heart swelled when you gave him those loving, hooded eyes, unable to stop himself from smiling subtly. His hair stuck to his forehead, face flushed and chest heaving with his deep breaths. You couldn't help but stare, the hand that wasn't in his shakily reaching for his face. You brushed the damp hair from his face as best as you could, tired and lovesick in your peaceful afterglow. He pushed his cheek into your palm, sighing contently through his breaths.
After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss was different than the other ones, gentle and caring instead of sloppy and desperate. Taking his opportunity, he slipped himself out of you, the sudden emptiness eliciting a gentle moan from you. He whined dramatically when you broke the kiss, your teeth flashing as you grinned, amused. You looked over his shoulder at your alarm while he started kissing your neck, craving aftercare just as much as you were. Sadly, it was already 9, and your roommate rarely stayed out very long after that. You mentally cursed your predicament, giving Dalton apologetic eyes. "She's probably on her way now," you mumbled, and he knew exactly what you were talking about. He groaned against your neck, clearly disappointed, but still pulled away. He thought about it for a second, before scoffing when he realized how obvious the solution was.
"Oh wait- duh, I live here too. We can walk over to my dorm," he recalled, making you laugh; a genuine, almost musical sound that had Dalton folding for you all over again. He pressed one more kiss to your forehead before gently pulling your legs off his waist and standing. "What about Chris?" you asked, wincing softly as you sat up. The space between your legs ached, and when you moved, you could feel cum start to leak out of you. It made you blush, remembering just how exposed you were. You watched Dalton pull on his boxers as he shrugged. "She's with a friend tonight," he responded, like it was common knowledge.
"You're telling me I risked my roommate getting an eyeful of us.. you know, when we could have been in your empty, risk-free dorm?" you gasped, mocking betrayal. He laughed at that, throaty and low as he lifted his hands in defeat. He grinned sheepishly, walking over to the desk chair where this whole situation began. "Yeah, maybe," he admitted, earning a playful eye roll from you (you would never admit it, but part of you loved the risk). He picked up your shorts and underwear, walking over and offering them to you.
"Here, we'll get you all cleaned up when we get there. I have some clean clothes you can wear," he promised, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple before turning to hunt down the rest of his clothes..
**
A/N: this is.. something. i never know how to end fics, that's why its always so abrupt 😭. anyways, i finally finished this one! i wanna write another one with a gn!reader :). work and classes have kept me so busy, but i'm gonna try to post a bit more frequently 🫶 hope you enjoyed <3! (not proofread yet)
warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con, themes of guilt and angst, mention of r*pe, reader realizes they enjoy something extreme, confession of feelings, biting, unprotected sex, more sex with demons!, red face possesses reader this time, slapping, kind of subby dalton, spitplay, description of a snowball, softer ending
summary: what happened was something you couldn’t forget even if you tried. as you wrestle with your feelings of the night, you start noticing that something is not right. not long after, you come face to face with the beast that marked you as his own. You confide in dalton, knowing he’s the only one who could help, but his assistance turns into something much more lewd.
a/n: after seeing how licentious affairs had been doing, i felt quite inspired to write a conclusive counterpart to it. when your ask came through it puzzled in perfectly with what i had drafted up so far. i hope i’ve done your request justice! i’ll prolly write more for dalton after this. i’ve seen the movie a third time now n have too many ideas. this can be read as a stand alone fic, although i would recommend you read the first part to capture all the filth. have a great day! <3 ~nero
Dalton Lambert x possessed!female reader
word count:6.6k
Pt.1
Your body was weak and your mind was beyond exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and to somewhat forget about the events of tonight, but Dalton’s shaky cries kept your mind running. You couldn’t find your voice to let him know what happened, so instead you shared in the starkness of the dorm the only thing filling the air were the occasional footsteps on the floor above you and Dalton’s cries.
You hadn’t moved from your position on his bed, still very aware of the pallid liquid slowly drying into the skin of your lower back. You felt Dalton lift his head from the bed and heard him get up to his feet.
“I’ll be right back.”
Only then did you lift your head up. You didn’t want him to leave, you didn’t want to be left alone because if you were to be completely transparent–you were scared. Even with the recollection of what just happened, he still comforted you in his natural form, and you still needed him around.
“Wait.”
Dalton turned around, his eyes wide at finally hearing you utter something besides a breath. You looked so broken and he knew it was his fault. He couldn’t look at you for too long because he felt the tears brimming his waterline within the second. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he grabbed the door handle setting out to what he initially went to do knowing he’d be weak for you if he stayed any longer.
“I promise, I’ll be right back.”
And with that, he snaked out of the door rubbing his hands across his face trying to wipe off his emotions. On the other side of the door, you dropped your hand back on the bed, feeling some sense of defeat.
“...Don’t go…”
Sighing you tried to let your body fall into a state of sleep, but every time you got close to the relief of sleep your body would wake you up with chills erupting across your skin. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you. Even though the room was decently illuminated by the full moon beaming through the windows, it still wasn’t enough to make you feel safe. You shut your eyes, knowing that you wouldn’t fall asleep but at least you wouldn’t be made known of anything manifesting in front of you.
The room started to feel oppressive. Every second that Dalton was gone it was becoming unbearable. There was a blanket of heated anxiety that you felt lay across your body and you knew something was watching you. You just couldn’t find the strength to open your eyes to face your opponent. You decided to barely squint your eyes open to make out just a fraction of what was causing you so much unease, but before you could muster up your full courage you heard the door unlock.
The amber lighting from the hallway painted the dingy tile flooring and the shadow of Dalton’s figure graced you with a moment of peace. Lifting your head to look at him, the warmth that filled your chest was something you couldn’t ignore. You could never be mad at him. Weakly, you motioned with your head as he fully came into the room.
“Can you turn on the light?”
He nodded and with the lurid overhead light casting over the dorm, you finally felt somewhat at ease. Dalton walked over to you still very apprehensive about being around you. Laying a small tub of hot water on the desk, he placed some hand towels on the chair. Kneeling back by the side of the bed you heard his voice cut through the silence again.
“Is it…is it okay if I touch you?”
He knew.
With the scene in front of him, it was almost moronic to think something else occurred on his bed. You nodded, but something told you that that wasn’t enough consent for him. Turning to look at him, a downturned smile poked at your lips.
“Yeah…you can touch me.”
With your verbal sanction, you felt a dry cloth make contact with your lower back. Sliding the partly dried slick off of your skin and encasing it in the towel, he followed with a warm towel. Relaxing muscles you didn’t even realize were tense. With another dry towel, he wiped over the small of your back making sure that you wouldn’t feel the chill of the air blow over your skin. He was sparing himself only taking care of your backside, but he knew that sooner or later he’d have to turn you over.
With his eyes shut, he took a deep breath preparing himself for whatever horror he’d have to look at.
“Can you roll over for me? So I can clean the rest of you..”
His voice trailed off, ashamed that he would have to take in more of this grim illustration that you were left bare in. Dalton got up from the side of the bed and went to your side of the room to dig through your drawers to find a sleep shirt for you. Picking the first large shirt he found, he turned around and was faced with your delicate body on its back. Vulnerable and exposed with small bruises peppered along your body.
As he came back over to you, his breath hitched and tears welled in his waterline. The life in his eyes drained as he took in your fragile form. A deep garnet stain was swiped across the side of your chin, maroon blemishes formed on the surface of your wrists, along your jawline, and there was a nasty crimson mark that was centered on the side of your neck.
The only puzzling thing was that that was the only one that truly looked like a bite mark. His stomach turned, knotting in regret. Placing your shirt on the edge of the bed he grabbed the wet towel, dunking it in the hot water, he needed to turn away from you. As the water trickled back into the bowl his thoughts played a horrifying symphony of guilt.
How could he let this happen? How could he hurt you? How could he let himself be so weak against that thing? After so long…
He turned around to face you, wrapping the towel around two fingers he kneeled again, wiping the warm towel against your marks. Your voice fluttered into his ears, a little bit more life swimming in your tone and he was delighted to hear your voice despite the circumstance.
“I guess you could say I’m afraid of the dark too now.”
You had a small smile pulling at your lips but horror pulled at Dalton’s.
“I’m so sorry y/n...I’m so sorry.”
You felt bad having him apologize knowing that deep down you enjoyed what happened. There was a certain sense of shame coursing through you but it was for wildly different reasons. Bringing your arm to rest across your eyes, you heard the water trickling in the bowl again and then felt a comforting warmth against the valley of your breasts. Dragging the towel across the areas that either Dalton felt needed attention or had vibrant bruising on them, he came to your flowery center. Hesitant, he looked up at you.
“Y/n, is it okay if I touch you here?”
“It’s okay Dalton, I trust you.”
A minuscule amount of relief sprinkled over him. How you still found it in you to be tender after whatever happened, killed him and it only crushed his heart even more. He needed to protect you and he failed. The one person he was truly enamored by, who made him feel more than emptiness, he failed.
Taking the towel, he gently cleaned your now wilted and tender petals. You hated to admit it but as he swiped over your folds, you kept having flash images of how you were ravished earlier in the evening. Your once angelic grotto was now tainted with the sin of taboo lust. You wanted to stop the small convulses at your center but the aftershocks were too much to control. You removed your arm from your face looking at Dalton once more, your anxiety wanting to confirm that it was still Dalton in the room with you.
As Dalton turned back around, he picked up your shirt and you somehow found the strength to sit up on the bed. Dalton was quick to rush to your side making sure that you were level. The worry in his eyes was so endearing that you almost forgot about all the events that occurred. You felt he had done more than enough and wanted to prove to him that you were in fact okay, you just needed time to recuperate.
“I-I’m okay, Dalton. Thank you.”
You were sincere, you weren’t trying to push him away and you wanted him to understand that and you felt that he did as he sat down on the bed across from you keeping an eye on your every move. Removing yourself of your bra, tank top, and cardigan, you tossed them all to your side of the room and grabbed the shirt that was in Dalton’s hands, pulling it over your body.
You crossed your legs and sat directly across from him, trying to gather what emotions were swarming through his head. It looked like he wanted to ask a question but didn’t have the courage to do so. Covering your legs with your shirt, you leaned over and nudged his knee with your hand.
“What’s going on in your head?”
He sighed, heavily and then looked around the dorm in hopes that he could find his answer somewhere nonverbally. Looking down at his hands and back up at you he found his voice.
“What happened? I genuinely don’t know—I don’t even remember falling asleep.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line suddenly feeling irrevocably sorry for him. You grabbed his hands and took a deep breath, ready to recount the portion of the night that he had no recollection of.
As you neared the end of your tale, you felt something wet the top of your hand. Looking up, you noticed a river of tears flowing from Dalton’s eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed in panic, immediately looking to calm him down. You wiped your thumb across his cheek taking what tears you could with it.
“Hey, Dalton–Dalton, look at me. It’s okay. I’m not mad or upset with you, this just means we have to figure this out together now.”
Dalton weaved his hands out of yours to wipe the remaining tears away from his face. Sniffling, he spoke after what felt like years of silence.
“I just, I don’t understand how you can look me in the face and tell me it’s okay after you just told me I raped you. How am I supposed to look at you and pretend everything is fine when I let you get hurt by simply just being involved with me? How can you even look at me?!”
To say his questions were laden would be an understatement. You now would have to present him with information you couldn’t even grasp the gravity of yet because you just discovered it about yourself. You sighed, coming to terms very quickly with your emotions.
“Dalton. Before I go on, there are a couple of things I haven’t mentioned yet.”
He looked up at you again, eyes full of panicked hysteria wondering what else you could possibly tell him happened.
“While you were possessed, this…entity told me something. It told me that everything it was going to do to me were things you wished you could do yourself. And it was preying on the fact that I was…aroused and that I was, well–enjoying it…”
The shame you felt creep up your throat was something that almost made you want to gag. The shock on his face was hard to manage because you were worried he would never be able to look at you normally. That any budding or fully bloomed feelings he had for you would be diminished to dust due to your confession. The silence you shared was beginning to become unbearable as you stared at each other.
“Please say something, Dalton. I can’t have you no-”
“-You, you enjoyed it?”
“You kinda have a hard time separating the fact that the person in front of you isn’t actually that person. Even more so when they look exactly the same and that person is someone you have a thing for in the first place…”
You scratched the back of your neck somewhat embarrassed and in awe of how quickly the truth just tumbled out of you. When you looked back at Dalton, you noticed a figured shadow appear behind him, but as quick as it appeared it was gone. Shaking your head, you wiped your face with your hands trying to find some of the same bravura you displayed moments before.
“Please don’t make me sit in silence again. I really just bared my bones here.”
“You have a thing, for me?”
“That’s what you got from all this?”
“It’s kinda a loaded moment y/n.”
You wanted something to distract you from the awkward tension that was now in the room, or at least that’s what it felt like to you. Looking around for your phone, you noticed it was on the floor peeking out from the bed. Looking over at Dalton you pointed to the floor.
“Can you grab that for me? It’s kind of in a dark spot.”
Without missing a beat, Dalton bent over and handed you your phone. Speaking as he sat up to hand it to you.
“This is more than a lot to digest, but for what it’s worth it wasn’t lying. N-not about the sex thing but I also have a thing for you. Wish it was divulged under different circumstances but we’re here now.”
“So by default, the sex thing is also true?”
You puckered your lips trying to fight a smile from teasing him. The situation itself was so heavy and you were searching for any remedy to lighten the mood. Dalton deadpanned, his face void of emotion trying to hide the annoyed smugness that was creeping up. You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from your throat, feeling a veneer of normalcy between the two of you. The nervous pit finally dissipating when you heard his laugh float through your ears.
“Yeah, yeah I guess that means it’s true too.”
With a small smile stretching at your lips, you grabbed his hands and almost got lost in the cerulean color of his eyes.
“So does this mean, we’re okay? For right now at least. I know there’s still so much that we have to work through I just wanna make sure that-”
“-Y/n. We’re okay. As long as you’re fine, I’m fine.”
Letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in you let yourself relax. You checked your phone and seeing as it was the middle of the night you looked back up at him.
“Guess we should call it a night, huh?”
Dalton nodded and pushed himself off the bed to turn off the light switch. When you realized his destination you stopped him, maybe a little too hastily.
“Wait! Can we leave the lights on?”
His expression softened and you saw a glimpse of that unbearable worry cross his features again, guilt quickly running through his veins again as you continued.
“And, can we sleep together? I just know I won’t be able to fall asleep if it’s just me…”
You were embarrassed to ask him for something so silly but there was no way you’d be able to just forget everything that happened, happened and be able to calm your mind down enough to sleep. With the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard slip through his lips, Dalton came back to the bed and motioned for you to scoot over.
“Of course. Whatever you need I’ll do.”
There was a reason why you fell for him as quickly as you did. There was something about how naturally attentive he was. Under that brooding artist exterior was somebody unconditionally tender despite his humane pitfalls. As you moved your body toward the edge of the bed closest to the wall, Dalton slipped into the bed lifting the covers so the both of you could get comfortable. As he laid down, you wormed yourself to snuggle as close as possible to his body.
“G’night y/n.”
“Goodnight.”
The silence you shared was comfortable but as time ticked by and Dalton’s breathing started to grow heavier, your mind started to wander and grow even more restless. Perhaps it was the newly attached fear of what was entailed when Dalton shut his eyes or maybe it was the fact your eyes were playing tricks on you and you kept seeing figures in the corner of the dorm by your bed. The lights in the room were all on so it’s not like shadows were playing games with you. There was just something you knew wasn’t right and you couldn’t quite place it.
Placing your leg to rest across Dalton’s, you moved more onto your side and clutched your fist into his shirt. Feeling that if you held onto him tighter somehow, someway he’d be less likely to drift away from you. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to shut your eyes. Convincing yourself that your anxiety was bedeviling you to imagine things that weren’t there. Finding solace in hearing the steady pace of Dalton’s heartbeat, your body finally drifted into sleep.
~*~
When your eyes finally fluttered open, Dalton was gone, and the light in the room came from the sun poking through the blinds of the windows. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, when your eyes refocused you could’ve sworn you saw something crouched in the corner by your bed. Feeling your heartbeat accelerate you quickly jumped from the bed and turned on the overhead lights. Feeling safer with the light shining in all the corners that left you with uncertainty.
Finding your phone in the sheets you saw you had about 30 minutes before your first class. Grabbing your toiletry bag, you walked to the bathrooms to get yourself ready for the day. Some people were walking in and out of the bathrooms but not nearly as many when it’s earlier in the morning. In your peripherals, you kept track of the bodies that came and went, which meant you were completely aware when you realized you were the only one in the bathroom.
You examined your body. All of the now garnet markings were now fully settled into your skin and you stared at yourself in pity. Wondering for a swift moment, what you looked like from an outside perspective. Quelling your thoughts, you began brushing your teeth, staring down the bathroom through the mirrors, you kept track of the bottom half of the stalls making sure that you saw no unusual shadows forming. Your anxiety was turning into paranoia and it was getting hard to ignore. Everything from the building settling to a bird flying past the window had you on edge.
Leaning down to spit the remainder of your toothpaste out, you let your guard down a tiny bit. Finishing rinsing your mouth out, when you brought your head back up from the sink a contorted face was behind you in your reflection. The horror that chilled your bones left you frozen when you made contact with a familiar pair of amber irises. The peeling skin on the red and black face behind you was enough to give you nightmares for the next five decades.
Your scream died in your throat, because who would believe you if you told them what you saw? Turning around to face your consternation, you were immediately stunned as you realized there was nothing behind you. It was just you in the bathroom and the now haunting sound of the faucet running. You tried to calm your breathing but you just decided to grab your bag and book it out of the bathroom suddenly not feeling safe, anywhere.
Going back inside your dorm, you were grateful that your class was online today. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it through the process of dressing yourself knowing there’d be a moment in time where you wouldn’t be able to see your surroundings. Grabbing your computer, you sat on Dalton’s bed, needing to be able to see every nook and cranny of the room. Logging into the video call for your class, you started to feel exhausted and almost estranged from your body.
You focused a little bit more when you heard your professor’s voice come through the speakers but it wasn’t for long until you felt yourself drifting away again. As your class was getting ready to wrap up, Dalton pushed through the door canvas first. You wouldn’t have noticed him if his canvas wasn’t whacking against the door. You gave him a small nod acknowledging him and stared back at your screen, almost getting lost in the pixels.
As your professor gave her goodbyes, you felt your eyes growing heavy and soon you were overcome with sleep. Realizing you could relax now with Dalton in the room with you. As your head bobbed, your body woke you up from the sudden movement and you felt like you weren’t connected with yourself. As if you were two separate entities but still in the same body. It felt like you were in a video game watching someone control you.
As Dalton set all of his stuff down, you stretched your arms out looking at him with unintentional doe eyes. He came over to you, letting you wrap your arms around his slim waist as his hands gently caressed your cheeks. Dropping his hands to your shoulders he tried to read your features before asking.
“Everything okay while I was gone?”
You thought about your answer for a moment, almost not wanting to share what you saw earlier today. It felt like something was blocking your ability to speak but you shoved the feeling down with the comfort of your worry standing right in front of you. If you guys were gonna get through this at all you had to be completely transparent with one another.
“I saw this thing while I was in the bathroom today. It had a red and black face and the same yellow eyes as you did last night. Scared the hell outta me.”
As you recited the event to Dalton, his eyes carried a knowing dread, but before he could get the chance to offer any deliberate thought, you suddenly felt overwhelmingly touchy. Pulling at his belt loops to bring him closer to you, you began bunting your face into his stomach. Needing to feel him on you in some sort of capacity.
You felt yourself beginning to drift away from your body again but this time you leaned into the feeling. Falling victim to a conjuration you weren’t even aware of yet. The moment in the bathroom where you held a deep gaze, full of terror with that decrepit monster was one where your body was no longer your own. You know you had to fight for the flesh vessel that was your own but the feelings you had brewing were taking precedence over the ordeal.
“Missed you today. It got so lonely while you were away.”
Dalton was in a state of muddled confusion. His hands were no longer offering you the comfort they did when he first came in, but now he was using them to push you away, attempting to get a better look at you. When you resisted him pushing your body away, he sighed above you trying to find his words.
“Y/n, we can’t just not talk about what you saw. That thing is haunting you now too.”
It was like listening to a conversation between two people inside your head. Whatever you wanted to say would die the moment you opened your mouth and something else wildly different would escape instead.
“I’m not afraid of it anymore–besides, I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I just want you.”
Patting his bed, you told him to sit which he did hesitantly. Once he was on your level, you nestled your head in the conjunction of his neck and shoulders meet. Inhaling his scent discreetly enough that it could be mistaken for a deep breath, his smell made you woozy. Intoxicated.
“I just wanna make you feel good.”
Your eyes were lidded so when Dalton craned his neck to respond to you, he couldn’t quite see your eyes.
“Y/n, I don’t think we should~mm!”
His words suddenly grew stale on his tongue as you moved your body to kiss him. As his eyes widened, you closed yours conveying your need for him. He took a few seconds to reciprocate the gesture, but once he did you took full opportunity to get him on his back and present himself to you. You broke the kiss so that his legs could fully get on the bed and you were swift to straddle him.
Gunning for his lips again, you didn’t give him much time for refusal. Your hands wandered his body committing all of curves to memory. Breaking the kiss, you allowed him to catch his breath but within seconds you were on his jawline placing open mouthed kisses along his skin. Moving your attack to his neck, you found his sweet spot tucked right below his ear. Dalton whined out and it was apparent that the noise that came out of him surprised him by how quickly he silenced himself. He couldn’t see it but there was a wicked smile that spread across your face knowing he was right where you needed him.
“Don’t go silent on me, baby. I wanna hear you scream.”
Licking a stripe up from the base of his neck to his sweet spot, you bit at the skin. A small moan followed by a hiss escaped his mouth and when you pulled away you were pleased that the mark you left looked similar to your own. You started to feel Dalton relax into the feeling of the pleasure you were giving him and you started to feel the bulge in his pants begin to strain against the fabric. Returning your assault to his slightly swollen lips now, you rolled your hips over his. Barely satisfying the ache you were beginning to feel pool between your legs.
Reluctantly, you pulled away from him and began to snake your hand down his body, your head hovering over the trail you made till you met the hem of his jeans. Taking one finger, you swiped across the fabric, your nails gently scratching at the skin above it. Goosebumps blooming across his skin, you heard him whine above you.
“Y/n/n, please.”
With the angle you were at, a derisive smirk cast on your face but Dalton couldn’t see that. Unbuckling his belt and undoing the zipper and button of his pants, you finally looked up at him. Your smirk turning into a full on grin when you saw the fear that quickly painted his features. His body froze and his breathing became labored, trying to persuade himself into thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. But as he blinked rapidly, the scene in front of him didn’t change.
Those golden irises had replaced the eyes he had grown so fond of. The grin that stayed plastered on your face was discomposing to him and gratifying to your own desire. You palmed his dick through the fabric and that motion brought him back to his body. Trying to squirm out from underneath you flared your hand and an invisible force kept his body pinned to the bed. Coming back up to be face to face with Dalton, your smile faded and your eyebrows furrowed with feigned worry.
Petting his cheek, he tried to move away from your hand but his attempt was futile. Whatever was pinning him down had no intentions of letting him go any time soon. With an ersatz version of sympathy painting your features you finally spoke. Your voice altered a familiar rasp in your tone.
“Don’t you want me, Dalton?”
Snaking back down to his undone pants, you pulled them off with his underwear just enough so that his weeping, blush tipped cock was freed from its confinements. As his cock rested on his stomach, you flattened your tongue to drag up from his balls to his tip. Dalton’s body reluctantly rolled up in reaction to how sensitive he was.
“Don’t you want me to make you feel good, baby?”
Grabbing the base of his cock, you gathered up enough spit to dangle a wad down onto his tip. Circling his tip with your tongue, your hand collected the spit and spread it down his shaft. Fully encasing your mouth around his tip, Dalton hissed at the unexpected action. Prodding your tongue out against his shaft every time your head bobbed down, Dalton’s body was squirming at the newfound euphoria he was feeling.
Picking up your pace, you slowed down every time his sounds got a little bit louder, wanting to see how long he could hold out for. As he involuntarily rolled his hips into your mouth, you pulled off of him completely causing a small whine to squeeze past his lips. Dalton was so wrapped up in the feeling of your body sending him into a state of sexual haze that almost forgot it wasn't really you. As your possessed form hovered over his face again, you continued to stroke his cock as you spoke.
“To think you spent all the time taking care of her last night just to let the same thing happen to you…”
Suddenly the pressure that he once felt on his body was gone and he turned his face away so he wouldn’t have to commit your yellowed eyes to memory. A flash of impassioned rage coursed through your veins as you brought your free hand to grab the sides of his face forcing him to look at you.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you. You’re both disgusting getting off on this, but for some reason, I think you’ll have an easier time admitting your guilt.”
Dalton’s eyes widened in fear and realization of what his body was about to release. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes rolled back allowing only the whites of his eyes to be seen. You relished in his irrefutable ecstasy and moved back down to his heavy cock. Wrapping your lips around his prurient length, you massaged his balls and with a few bobs of your head, Dalton released his load into your mouth. The velocity of his spurts of cum tickling the back of your throat.
Dalton was in a hazed rapture. Fighting with his morals of how wrong the situation was but how good it all felt. His legs stiffened and he fisted his hands into his sheets in a desperate attempt to ground himself from the absolute pleasure coursing through him. You continued sucking at his length, overstimulating, and milking him of all he had. The moans that left him were airy but frequent, with the occasional low tone coming through them. You couldn’t deny the pulsing that was happening between your legs every time a sound left him. He was completely at your mercy
“Stop stop stop.”
When the pleasure became too much, Dalton pushed at your head to get you off of him. The overstimulation pushed him to a state he had never been in before. As Dalton tried to catch his breath, you removed yourself from your underwear and placed your heat on top of his length rolling your hips to get some type of friction. You were hungry, needy for some type of sexual zeal and there was only one thing that could satisfy this ache. Dalton.
Dalton’s eyes were heavy and shameless, still recovering from the aftershocks of his orgasm he writhed in tandem with the movement of your hips. Slowly examining his face, you carded your fingers through his hair, moving back a few stray pieces. He looked completely fucked out, so much so that you almost felt he didn’t deserve anything else.
Placing your lips upon his, you dribbled some of his cum back into his mouth. His eyes blew open and his cries were muffled. The sudden taste of his own briny and tangy juices being spat into his mouth was more than unexpected. When you pulled away from him, there was a concoction of spit and cum smeared around his mouth. Gripping his face in your hand again, your amber eyes held a certain dominance and wicked enjoyment that sent chills up Dalton’s spine. Whether out of fear or arousal, he couldn't place nor did he have the capacity to after your demand.
“Swallow.”
As Dalton was overcome with an overzealous desire gift wrapped in terror, he failed to notice your body moving for its next attack. Before Dalton had the chance to realize what was going on, his ruined and wanton cock was slipped into your beatific cunt. The moan that left Dalton was whorish in nature and barely sounded like it was his own.
“Shit!”
Without missing a beat you began bouncing on his cock with complete and utter ardor and empressement. Each time your lower bodies connected your clit so deliciously rubbed against him sending lascivious chills across your skin and an aching pulse within your walls. Dalton’s head was rubbing into the pillow beneath him, his eyes closed in what felt like divine ecstasy. Again, you were met with an overwhelming urge to reprimand him. Raising your hand mid air, it gained enough speed to usher a slap that echoed in the room.
His eyes opened immediately, stupified by the sting that was spidering across the surface of his skin. Switching to roll your hips so you could get as much friction on your meretricious cunt. You were leaking all over him, your sickeningly angelic juices were marking him as your own. Panting and grounding himself to find his voice, Dalton looked up at you, eyes and body drunk on your pussy.
“Why, why did you slap me?”
Something similar to a growl rumbled in your throat as a sinful giggle left your mouth.
“Aww, baby, did it hurt? Here, I’ll kiss it better.”
Slowing down your hips, you leaned forward and sloppily licked over Dalton’s cheek and then leaving what resembled a tender kiss on his skin. The small act of tenderness made a glimmer of hope bubble in his stomach thinking that maybe the worst was over. But as you moved away from his cheek, he was unfortunately still met with your yellowed irises. Dalton didn’t have long to stare before you ducked your head down again, licking at the barely dried concoction of cum and spit that was still littered around his mouth.
Cleaning up the mess with your tongue you straightened yourself out, placing your hands on his torso taking him in in such a state. Caressing your hands down the sides of his ribcage a filthy idea conquered your mind. Grabbing Dalton’s wrists, you placed his hands on your hips and smiled down at him.
“Fuck me. Like it’s the only thing your good for. Make me cum.”
Like a dog, he was quick to action. Situating himself so that he had better leverage, Dalton began pounding into you from underneath. He was whining, whimpering, and had the most endearing face of focus. Eyebrows furrowed, lips curled around his teeth trying to pacify his sounds, and a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.
“Fuck! I-I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last. Y/n~ah!”
“Aww, you’re gonna cum? Did you ask if you could fucking cum?”
“No, no I didn’t. I’m s-sorry.”
You gripped his face again, making sure that he’d see flash images of this for days. Pushing on the sides of cheeks, you forced his mouth to pry open prepping a wad of spit in your own.
“Open.”
Dalton complied and you set free the wad of spit directly into his mouth and he swallowed without instruction to do so. With his hips stilled you started bouncing on his cock again, relishing in how each inch slid in and out of you. The stretch of his length alerting you to something else. Your walls were clenching around his throbbing cock and he moaned out in protest.
“Please, please let me cum!”
“Beggin' now?”
Your tone was disgustingly smug, the demon possessing you well aware of what it was doing to your relationship. As if someone just woke you up from a nap, suddenly the pleasure that your body was feeling was becoming more and more overwhelming. You were becoming more aware and what entity that was fronting as you was beginning to fade away. Dalton’s voice hissing out in utter euphoria brought you back to your body completely.
“Fuck, please! I can’t hold it.”
You couldn’t stop your body from its carnal instinct to keep moving and to run over that precipice of full body bliss. As the warmth exploded in your core, your body gushed over Dalton’s. The euphoria your body felt unable to control how it escaped you. As you were coming down from your high, your body was still moving and you felt your walls become stained with a fountain of ivory strokes. The sound that left Dalton was so choked and full of fervor, you couldn’t help the involuntary fluttering your flooded pussy had around his cock.
The room was sticky and hot, the only sound being the heavy breaths from both of you trying to calm your bodies down. You weren’t sure whether to move or to just continue staring at Dalton’s limp form. Running your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttered open, more than delighted to see the warmness of your eyes back. The vibrant yellow hue nowhere to be seen. The confused haze you were in earlier was not present either. You were completely aware and were contending with the fact that it happened again. What you didn’t expect was the faint apology that came from Dalton.
“I’m sorry, y/n.”
“For what?”
“All of this.”
You sighed not entirely sure if you should be having this conversation while he was still winding down and still inside of you.
“Let’s save the serious conversations for when we’re not fucked out and the room doesn’t smell of sex.”
Dalton chuckled lightly, feeling so relieved that it was you again. His intuition hadn’t proved him wrong yet but he felt like there was no way this could occur a third time. Whatever that entity wanted it got and that was satisfactory enough for him. Sliding off of Dalton, you laid on your side next to him.
“We should probably go wash up, huh?”
Dalton nodded but he didn’t make any motion to move. Instead, he grabbed your body and pulled you closer to him.
“Yeah, but let’s just lay here for a moment. I need to remember what you feel like.”
Letting your hand wander up to his hair again, you carded through his locks admiring his face. He leaned into the feeling, pushing his face into your hand as you caressed down his face. Swiping your thumb across his cheek a small shred of doubt crept up.
“We gonna be okay?”
Dalton laughed through his nose, the sentiment absolving you of your doubt.
Summary: Dalton was just being curious and stumbles upon something he probably shouldn’t have. He then does something he shouldn’t have.
Warnings: Mentions of the Further, mentions of entities, Dalton being a creep, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), sexual fantasies
All credit to @glodessa who wrote the imagine that inspired this, so much talent there and you’re feeding my Dalton addiction
Dalton was your friend. His primary art class was in the studio next to the orchestra rooms where you practiced in. He’d wandered in on you playing a section piece on the violin after he’d forgotten that his class was cancelled.
Since you two had obviously seen each other on multiple occasions when going to and leaving from class, he’d felt comfortable striking up a conversation. He usually wasn’t into initiating introductions, but Chris had started forcing him to interact with more people and make friends. You were the first person he had introduced himself to without her assistance.
In a way, he felt a sick sense of possession when it came to you because of that. It made him feel funny, like he was gross and he tried to stomp it down, but it would crawl it’s way up his throat whenever you talked to him. He’d met you all on his on, without a buffer or cleverly charming segue. You knew him for him from the get go, and still liked him. You liked him enough to start waiting for him before classes for a chat. You liked him enough to exchange contacts and let him take pictures of you to save for his own personal enjoyment put into his saved contacts.
You liked him enough to let him walk you back to your dorms every time he had the chance to. Which he did, considering he started walking a different path to insure that he would run into you more often.
He didn’t think he was odd, not really. Lots of friends took secret pictures of each other. For fun, it was funny, like a secret joke. And lots of friends walked together in between classes, it was normal. Even if they didn’t share certain classes. Or if one of the friends wasn’t completely aware that the other friend was nearby.
Dalton didn’t consider it strange that he didn’t like when you talked to Chris, or any of his other friends. Or anyone that might find you attractive. In his eyes, that should’ve meant everyone. You were gorgeous and people should be falling over themselves trying to be with you, in his opinion. But you were his. His friend, at least. And he hated not having your full attention.
Nighttime was the worst, in some ways. You two had met up on occasion to help each other study or wind down from an intense test. But most nights, you turned in early to spend time with your roommate. Dalton hated your roommate, she was so clingy and always convinced you to go back to the dorms, cutting off his time with you. He thought she was off, or at least very selfish, and that she used every opportunity to guilt you and take advantage of your kindness and naivety.
Dalton would never do that, he was lucky to get to be your friend. You were beautiful, talented, kind and accepting. You even accepted his ability of astral projection without hesitation. You were beyond perfect to him, and if he wasn’t with you, he was thinking about you. Constantly, and usually aloud, much to Chris’ annoyance.
“Dolphin! Please, for the love of fuck, ask that girl out already. You’re driving me nuts!” She threw herself back onto the spare bed in Dalton’s dorm in dramatic agony, groaning loudly in complaint.
“No, Chris. She’ll just think that I became friends with her because I wanted to get in her pants,” he dismissed, tossing a dirty t-shirt into his hamper a little too forcefully.
“Isn’t that what all guys do? What’s the big deal?” Chris sat up again to try to convince him. It wasn’t the first time either, but she was almost positive that you liked Dalton back and would rather you keep his mouth too occupied for him to verbally obsess over you. Like he was doing right now.
“I’m not going to do that, Chris. Just drop it.” His voice was unnervingly firm and Chris snapped her mouth shut before another incentive could fall out. Dalton was usually mild-mannered, at least when it came to anyone but his dad, not really the aggressive type. Anti-social and surly, but not aggressive. Unless it had something to do with you.
Chris thought there was something not quite right about Dalton’s crush on you but she figured his abnormal childhood and resulting trauma made it hard for him properly process his feelings. And she was reluctant to ask in case it set him off.
“I heard her roommate is going home to her parents’ for her dad’s birthday, maybe y’all can hang out more this weekend,” Chris suggested instead, unfettered by Dalton’s tone. “She left earlier this afternoon.”
Something seized in Dalton’s chest. You hadn’t mentioned that to him. You didn’t have a reason not to. Was there someone else? Were you going to spend the whole weekend with another guy? Did you have a boyfriend? Anger and hatred for this secret man clouded his mind and he felt like throwing something against the wall until it broke.
“I hadn’t heard about that,” he replied to Chris coolly. “I’ve got some homework to finish, do you mind?”
Chris nodded slowly, grabbing her bag and quickly making her way to the door, watching Dalton worriedly. She gave a half-hearted wave goodbye and left without a word.
As soon as the door shut, he quickly locked it, tearing his ball cap from his head and flinging thoughtlessly towards his desk, knocking over a small stack of his sketchbooks and a tin of water. Cursing under his breath, Dalton begrudgingly trudged to clean up the mess before the water could stain or damage any of his work.
After mopping up the water, he flipped through his drawings to check if any of it ruined the paper. One of the sketchbooks was relatively new, but nearly full of pencil and ink sketches. Of you.
Most of them took up an entire page of their own. They were innocent, somewhat, just candids that he’d done while or after hanging out with you. You smiling, laughing, playing the violin, biting your lip awkwardly. Gorgeous and sweet.
There were some other ones, smaller in comparison to the rest and done with a light hand. You changing through the window of your room. You bending over at work. You crying to your mom on the phone after you tore your favorite dress right before a date you ended up not going on. Done in a hurry by someone who was sketching without a still reference.
It was not stalking. No, he wasn’t like that. He didn’t threaten you or send you lewd messages. He didn’t get off on scaring you or making you feel unsafe. He wanted you to feel safe around him, did everything in his power to make sure you were always comfortable with him. Plus, he never invaded your privacy, he just looked. Watched. It was friendly, protective even.
Plus, those sketches were nothing compared to the rest. Small enough for three separate drawings to fit on a page, and darkly filled in with a heavy and rough hand.
It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He was a guy. You were his crush. He couldn’t control his own thoughts, let alone his dreams. It happened, and it was completely normal and natural. Not at all creepy or perverted.
He dreamt of you often. He couldn’t keep his mind off you even in his sleep. Of course, his unconscious mind was different than his conscious mind. Mostly, anyway. A lot more eager for you, hungry for you.
The pencil drawings were of you as you appeared to him in his dreams. Bent over his desk, wearing a string of pearls and a sultry smile. You, on his bed with your legs spread out invitingly, your fingers scissoring your slick folds. There was even one featuring him, his lower face dripping with drool and your arousal as his tongue delved into your wet heat from under you. That one was his favorite, even if the drawing itself wasn’t exactly his best work skill-wise. He had a hard time balancing the pad with only one hand, which he was also using to draw.
Dalton sighed and picked up all of the sketch pads, putting them back where they were and collapsing on his back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he should bring up your roommate leaving and confront you about not telling him. You must have had a good reason, right? It’s not like you were getting tired of him or anything. Right?
As he drifted further and further into his thoughts, the room became darker around him. Standing up to fix his lamp, he caught the sight of himself sleeping in his peripheral. He’d fallen asleep and accidentally projected.
He didn’t do so often anymore, the Further was a scary and dangerous place and he was cautious of bringing something back with him. But it had its advantages, for pranks or finding out things that others couldn’t. Surprisingly, he’d never used his ability to watch you. You were too pure and beautiful to see through the lenses of the Further, he liked seeing you surrounded by light and color, with no potential of evil spirits ruining the experience for him.
But just this once…
No! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.
You trusted him, it would be so easy. And it’s not like he was trying to be a weirdo, he just wanted to see if you had plans that weekend without having to actually ask you. It would only be once, for a few minutes. He wouldn’t mess with you or your things. He would just listen in and leave.
He grabbed the lantern and walked out of his room. He could’ve found your dorm with his eyes closed, but since it was in a different building and he was traveling through the Further, it took him longer than he would’ve liked. But at least he didn’t encounter anyone. You lived on the second floor of your dorm house and yours was nicer and more expensive than his. You had your own bedroom and personal bathroom, not having to share with your roommate and the rest of your floor like Dalton did.
Your door was unlocked and after he entered your dorm, he locked it himself, knowing he’d have to unlock again it in order to leave. Your bedroom door was open and he could see you through it, sitting at your desk and typing on your phone. Silently and curiously, he peered over your shoulder to watch you text your roommate.
He rolled his eyes at seeing her contact but ignored it in favor of the messages being sent. Mostly average, just you being your considerate self and asking about her trip home. She, obviously, sent paragraph after paragraph detailing every insignificant second of her weekend away, not once asking anything about you. The entire conversation revolves around her and Dalton had to bite his tongue to avoid scoffing in your ear, which was inches from his mouth.
Finally she asked about you, specifically your plans for while she was gone. Luckily, she could serve a purpose for once, Dalton thought.
You mentioned work, homework and just relaxing and Dalton was tempted to leave and rid himself of his craving to kiss you. Then, he saw you type his name. You wanted to surprise him by inviting him over for a sleepover. Your roommate responded by teasing you about you and Dalton finally progressing to the next stage in your friendship; a relationship.
Huh, maybe your roommate wasn’t as bad as Dalton thought she was.
Dalton’s heart was racing as he continued to read all of your roommate’s suggestions for extremely sexual twists on common sleepover activities, all in order to seduce him. You didn’t have to try to seduce him, but trying any one of these wouldn’t hurt. He felt his cock hardening in his pants and knew that he probably should’ve left. Like, now.
But then you sighed loudly into the empty air. Your head dropped back, your lips parted and you shifted awkwardly in your seat, your thighs pressing together tightly. Dalton felt his mouth water just watching you and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He decided that he would wait until you either went to the bathroom or fell asleep. If he tried leaving before then, you might catch him.
So he stood off to the side and simply observed you from up close. You seemed more deflated when you weren’t around him, less animated and poise. Less…cheery. You continued to stay at your desk texting your roommate for a while before getting up for a glass of water. It seems like she was going to bed. You paced around the kitchen as you sipped your drink, looking slightly anxious about how the conversation ended. Dalton regretted not reading it along with you and now he couldn’t because your phone was off and locked.
Huffing out a tense laugh to yourself, you marched back into your room, passing Dalton to get to your phone. You continued pacing as you opened up your messages and scrolled until you found a particular contact, hesitating for a moment and then opening the chat thread. Dalton stood in front of you this time and read his own name from upside down. Why were you pausing when it came to texting him? Did this happen often? We’re you inviting him over?
He watched you type out a greeting and began pacing in your room. When the message delivered, Dalton panicked before remembering that his phone was next to his actual body. You wouldn’t catch him over his phone notifications sounding off in your otherwise silent room.
You turned off your phone and sat on your bed, your back straight and your eyes staring out into nothingness. Your leg bounced erratically and you started checking your phone every thirty seconds in case you missed his message. You were waiting for a response from him, Dalton realized. And he couldn’t do that while he was standing here with you.
Now was definitely the time to go and you gave him the perfect opportunity when you started collecting your things to take a shower, muttering to yourself about how desperate you were. It was clear that you were agitated from waiting on his message, and he supposed it was because he hardly ever took more than 20 seconds to start typing back. He only took long if he was busy, and he would always tell you beforehand if he was.
As much as he wanted to watch you undress yourself and shower, becoming aroused slightly once more at the idea, he wouldn’t cross that boundary when you were so vulnerable and unaware. It was completely different from the times he watched you change your shirt or remove your bra from outside your window. He was in your home and you were going to be completely naked. Dalton wanted go reserve that honor for when you would strip in front of him eagerly, at least for the first time he ever saw you naked.
*~*~*
Gasping, Dalton sat up in his own bed, his erection pressing against his sweats and his body feeling sweaty. He immediately opened his messages and read your message asking him what he was doing. Getting his own clothing, he walked to the common bathroom in his dorm house and stripped, sending you a picture of his shower stall with the reflection of his bare torso halfway in the frame.
He’d never been so forward with you before. You’d seen him shirtless on occasion, he wasn’t shy about his body, but never on purpose and he hardly ever sent you pictures instead of just telling you what he was doing. But now that he knew you felt the same way he did, he felt confident enough to give actual signals to tell you that.
He turned on the shower and waited for the ancient water settings to actually heat up the water. As he was about to step in, you messaged him back with a photo of your own.
You were wearing nothing but a robe, tied at the waist, but doing a very poor job at concealing your cleavage, and your hair was soaked. The mirror that you had taken the picture in was fogged and he could see streams of steam swirling in the air around your head. So you liked really hot showers, fuck, that was attractive to him. You smiled shyly into the camera with one of your hands clutching a towel in your hands.
You: “I just got out of the shower, how funny is that?”
God, you were adorable without even trying. He wondered if the placement of your robe was intentional or if you were just that sexy without trying to be. It could go either way, you were as effortlessly cunning as you were absurdly oblivious to your affect on others.
He quickly went through his shower routine quickly, not taking his time to enjoy the water and relax like he usually did. He didn’t want to keep you waiting again. He decided to toe the line of flirtation and idle conversation once more by sending you another photo. This time following your lead with a mirror pic. He was still shirtless and brushing his teeth with an overly wide and sud-filled smile. His shorts hung low on his hips and his entire frame was centered in the photo this time.
D: “What’s up?”
It was a lame line, but he wanted to keep the conversation going and see if you were going to invite him over. He spit out his toothpaste and gargled mouthwash, accidentally swallowing some as you replied back. Coughing at the strong taste burning his throat, his eyes widened as he memorized every pixel of the photo you sent, catching on to his little provocation.
The mirror in your bathroom was still slightly fogged but he could clearly see that all you were wearing was a t-shirt. It was big enough to cover your thighs, so Dalton didn’t know what you were wearing under it and he could see your nipples poking through the material ever so slightly. He dragged his lip into his mouth and bit down hard, hand clenching on the edge of the counter. He gathered his shower stuff and walked back to his room, keeping his towel gathered in a ball in front of his crotch in case he ran into anyone this late.
It didn’t occur to him to read the message you sent until he was about to send one himself. He was so distracted by your selfie that he completely forgot that he was in the middle of a conversation with you. He wondered if it was weird to be more turned on by you in your pajamas than you soaking wet and in a towel.
You: “Nothing much? What are you doing right now?”
He sat down on his art stool, and angled the camera at the mirror that sat in the corner between his spare bed and the wall. He hadn’t gotten the motivation to actually put it up so it laid on its side and only showed from his waist down at this angle. The picture showed his bare stomach, shorts and legs, with one of his feet braced up on the leg of his seat.
D: “Chilling in my room now, you?”
You responded a minute later in much the same fashion. This photo didn’t show your face either, but he could see your hair and the junction between your neck and shoulder at the top of the photo. You were stretched out on your bed, your legs propped up in front of you and you holding the weight of your upper body on your other arm as you snapped a photo of yourself. From the way your shirt rode up on your thighs, you weren’t wearing any shorts, but he couldn’t see your underwear.
You: “Same. My roommate left to her parents’ house so I have the place to myself.”
Was this your way of implying that you wanted him to come over? How does he respond to that information without sounding weird or letting on that he’d already known? Should he tell you that he already knew? He decided that now was the perfect time to reorganize his desk and actually put up the mirror in his room. It took fifteen minutes for him to respond and the guilt ate at him now that he knew how you reacted when he didn’t message back quickly.
D: “Oh, really? Yeah, I kinda always have my place to myself, haha :)Look what I finally did.”
The added “haha” looked so stupid that he wanted to jump out his window. He hoped the selfie he sent to you would make up for it. He was standing in front of his mirror, acting as if he was only trying to show you the mirror you’d been bugging him about putting up. He was still shirtless and a light sheen of sweat made his body glow slightly from the exertion of his impromptu redecorating. He angled his phone to show a grin, but the rest of his face was covered.
You took a few minutes to respond yourself and Dalton thought he understood your anxiety about having to wait for messages. He felt the anxiety was all the more potent now that you were sending each other photos of yourselves. But he couldn’t deny that he liked the tension, the anticipation ate him up and he was beyond keyed up.
You: “I got bored being here by myself so I’m doing my makeup :p”
You: “Oml, finally!”
You were kneeling in front of the camera with your legs slightly spread. The lighting in your room made it hard for him to see what your underwear looked like and he felt like a pervert for being disappointed. Probably not as bad as he would’ve felt before he knew that you reciprocated his feelings. Your hair was put up into an updo so it was out of your face and it reminded him of that Pamela Anderson hairdo that you complained about not being able to do. You looked beautiful, your makeup was darker than you normally had it, more like dark seduction than pretty fairy. Dalton wondered if that was on purpose.
He sent you a closeup selfie of half of his face, his eyes mostly angled down at the phone screen instead of the actual camera and a slight smirk on his lips. His neck, collarbones and one of his shoulders were on display for you as well
D: “Guess I got bored too. Your hair looks like Pamela Anderson’s, btw”
D: “I like your makeup, it looks good!”
You responded quickly and without a photo.
You: “Are you joking me?! The one time I’m not bending over backwards trying to do it right…”
Dalton had to take a minute to recover from the mental image of you bending over backwards, particularly the image of how your breasts would look at that angle when your next message came in with another photo.
You: “Come over?”
This time, your phone was placed close to the floor and angled up for Dalton to see your knees pulled up to your chest and you dramatically and exaggeratedly pouted at the camera, your dark red lips shining in the camera flash. The flash also, probably unintentionally, highlighted the junction between your legs and he could actually see your panties this time. White lace. Son of a bitch!
Instead of responding, he jumped around his room and tried to gather all of his shit to take to your place and was pulling up his jacket when he noticed some papers on his bed. His homework that he had told Chris about earlier and completely forgot about. It was due at midnight and his teacher was a hardass about homework.
“Fuck!” His curse echoed loudly in his empty and otherwise silent room and he slammed his things down on the bed in anger.
As desperate as he was to go to your room and potentially spend the night inside you, he was stuck inside his dorm unless he wanted his grade to tank. With a heavy heart and tense motions, he sat in his chair, a different one from his stool, and faced his mirror. He spread his legs so that he was man-spreading and propped a leg up on the edge of his bed. He held up his homework in one hand above his head and made a faux-angry face at the camera, his expression not even making at dent when it came to showing just how angry he actually was. He gave himself a minute of fantasizing about your lips kissing marks all over his body before snapping the picture and sending it to you.
D: “I was on my way when I remembered I had homework. Fucking sucks! Raincheck? I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning?”
He ordinarily didn’t curse over text, or in general. He wasn’t a prude about swearing, but he just didn’t feel the need to do it. However, he also needed you to understand that he wasn’t blowing you off, and then he genuinely was upset about not being able to spend the night with you. He felt it was probably too risky sending you a picture where he was very obviously at half-mast and worried that he was being too forward and would make you uncomfortable.
Two minutes of complete agony imagining all of the ways that you would dismiss him and tell him to forget about it, or get angry and misinterpret what he was telling you. Now that the conversation couldn’t go anywhere, the anticipation wasn’t alluring and fun, it felt like acid burning his skin.
You: “Oh, please do your homework! Grades are important. Breakfast sounds good! Goodnight x”
A kiss, you messaged him a kiss. And you were completely fine with it. For the first time in his life, Dalton felt the urge to do a chest bump with a bro. He was on top of the world right now. He was tempted to rush his homework and run over to you as soon as possible, but as soon as he sat down to do it, he knew that the assignment required all of his time and attention. Fortunately, the assignment itself was relatively simple, but it was incredibly time consuming, which is why he’d been putting it off.
Two hours later, he took some pictures of his completed homework and sent them to his professor’s email. It was fifteen minutes til midnight and he wondered if he should risk going over to you now. You weren’t expecting him, though, and for all he knew, you were asleep or something. He debated texting you that he was done and seeing if you’d extend the invitation to come over again, but you hadn’t even brought up his last picture and that made him a bit insecure. What if you were trying to just ignore it as a way to say you weren’t interested? Even back in your room, when your roommate was encouraging you to take advantage of having your dorm to yourself, you had only denied all of her sexual innuendos. He knew you liked him back, but maybe sending you a picture of like the one he sent was too much too fast?
Oh yeah, astral projector. He could always just pop in and check without actually having to check. It was fine the first time, right? No big deal anymore. He wasn’t hurting anyone.
He relaxed on his bed and before long, he was picking up that lantern once more and leaving his body behind, making sure that all of his lights were on to protect his body before he left the room.
You had been in your room with your door mostly closed when he came in again. You really should make sure your front door was locked, he thought. He heard little whimpers coming from your room and was immediately concerned, automatically assuming that you were crying. Your bedroom door was swaying on account of the industrial fan that you insisted was the only thing strong enough to keep you cool at night. He had no problem opening your door and putting it back in place, making it look completely natural in case you noticed.
From what he could see, you were looking at your phone and were mostly covered by your blanket. Only one of your hands was holding your phone, which Dalton found odd because you normally preferred using both hands. Finally seeing your face, Dalton noticed that you had no tears on your cheeks or in your eyes. You weren’t crying. What the hell were you looking at on your phone?
Him. You were looking at a picture of Dalton that he’d sent to you. More accurately, you were looking at the second photo he had sent you, the one where he was brushing his teeth. It took Dalton several moments to begin thinking again to put the dots together.
Oh. Oh.
Just as Dalton registered what you were actually doing, you threw your blanket aside in frustration and essentially showed him that he was correct. He watched in rapt fascination as you rubbed your clothed center over your panties with two fingers. You kept focused on your phone, swiping over to the photo of him after he hung up his mirror, as your index fingers slipped beneath your lacy white underwear and into your slick heat. Your breathing was loud and shallow, the occasional moan slipping through as you touched yourself.
Dalton should not be here. He knew that. He knew what was and what wasn’t appropriate, his mom made sure he knew how to respect women, so he knew what he was doing was the furthest thing from okay. He also knew that he would have to be dragged by his teeth to get him out of your room. His cock swelled and twitched from under his shorts as he stood over, watching you masturbate to a picture of him. In the low lighting of your mostly dark room, he could see the shine of your wetness on your fingers and over your folds. He wanted to drag his tongue over your labia and savor every drop you gave him. It was all for him, after all, he was entitled to it.
You groaned in annoyance through your teeth and yanked your panties down your legs. Dalton’s severely dilated gaze zeroed in on them and he made a mental note to grab them before he left when your shirt joined it in the floor. You were completely nude and sitting up on your bed, in a very similar position to the photo where you had shown him your makeup. He’d never look at it again without thinking of this. He wished he had a picture of this.
You looked like a goddess or some kind of celestial siren as you arched your back and groped at one of your breasts and toyed with your clit. The chill of your room and the sudden banishment of your blanket had your flesh covered in goosebumps and your nipples hard. Dalton wanted nothing more than to cover your body with his and discover new forms of pleasure using his tongue, hands and cock. You were everything, you surrounded him and took up so much everything. And yet, he wasn’t actually with you, no matter how much he wished he could be. He didn’t know why he couldn’t try, you were his now. You admitted to it. Maybe not to him directly, and maybe you didn’t know he was there, but it didn’t make it any less true.
Dalton approached your bed and was about to rest his weight on it when you grabbed a decorative throw pillow from the mountain of pillows you had on your bed. You shoved it between your legs and adjusted it so that the woven seams pressed between your folds. You rested your weight on it and rolled your hips experimentally to find a rhythm and angle that felt best. Soon, you were panting and gasping, and Dalton could barely hear you over the stupid fan.
As you rode the pillow, Dalton lost his restraint. He either had to take care of himself now and fully condemn himself as an actual peeping tom and a pervert, or take care of you and risk you freaking out and losing you before he could actually have you. He’d rather hate himself for a little while than you hate him forever. He reached into his shorts, cupping his erection and squeezing lightly. He bit his lips and tried to keep quiet. He didn’t think he would last long, and he didn’t really care to either. He’d worry about that once he was actually inside you.
Dalton started off with slow and trading strokes before working up to the rhythm you set for yourself. You were grinding down on the pillow with slow and long thrusts, lowering your body slightly so that the seam of the pillow rubbed your clit. Dalton imagined his face replacing the pillow and started speeding up the movements of his hand, spitting on himself to help his hand move more fluidly along his shaft. Coincidentally, you started to quicken as well, humping the pillow desperately instead of steadily rolling your hips.
“Dalton! Oh…fuck! Daltonnn…” you cried out softly into the seemingly empty room. As the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, you lost strength in your arms and fell to the mattress, your hips still moving rhythmically as you came. Your limbs felt electrocuted and twitchy, and you could do nothing but gasp and whimper as you came down from your high. Rolling over, you reached down and caressed your soaked folds, moaning softly as your fingers became coated in the stringy remnants of your wetness.
Dalton nearly fell to his knees in his desire to suck your fingers into his mouth and devour your cunt. Luckily, he managed to stay upright and went rigid as he came in his hands, making sure the pearly white spurts of semen didn’t make a mess anywhere in your room, if they could. He wasn’t actually entirely sure how it all worked when he was in this state, but he wasn’t going to risk it.
He waited until you fell asleep to grab your panties and leave your dorm, falling back into his own body and finding it a mess. His shorts were soaked at the crotch with his cum because his actual hands couldn’t stop his real orgasm from staining his clothes. He tore off his shorts and decided to sleep naked, hiding your panties in his pillow case.
*~*~*
You woke up refreshed and well-rested the next morning, still not used to the stillness and quiet in the absence of your roommate, Carla. Usually, she was up by now blaring metal music while she got ready for the day and you would make the two of you breakfast. You went to do just that when you heard a knock at your door and remembered that Dalton was supposed to come over with breakfast.
You told him to wait through a text message and grabbed a pair of athletic shorts, yanking them on as you made your way to let him in. Much to your surprise, the door was unlocked, though you don’t remember leaving it that way. In all fairness, you also don’t remember the last time you had locked it, so it was fair game.
Dalton greeted you with a large smile, showing off his extended canines, and a bag from your favorite pastry shop. It was hard not to blush after what you did when you saw the pictures he sent you, but the food was also distracting. You excitedly took the bag from him and started rifling through it as he guided the both of you to your room. Had he ever been inside your dorm before? How did he know which room was yours?
Before you could ask him, he plopped himself onto your bed and settled onto his stomach. He then used a pillow to prop up his chin. The same pillow you had used last night.
There was something about the way he was smiling at you. The way he was watching you.
“So, did you sleep well last night?”
********
Lemme know if you want a part two or maybe a “What if Dalton hadn’t had any homework?” situation.
