#Insidious x reader

[crazyk-imagine]

Life Away from Home

Pairing: Dalton Lamber x Best friend!reader

Characters: Dalton Lamber, Best Friend!reader, Chris Winslow, Josh Lambert, Renai Lambert

Warnings: Fluff, angst due to demons, add on to the movie, reader and Dalton being cute, I've literally only seen this movie once and it's consumed me too much and I had to write this, the day I watched it, this idea came to mind, the possessed Dalton scene is what got me hooked on writing this, Josh and Renai are trying to make it work maybe not in a romantic way or maybe they are

Word Count: 4,294

A/N: Holy shit, I was not expecting this to be over 4,000 words.

I'm getting ready for spooky season

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"Jesus, Dalton. When did you get so much shit?" You ask, setting down another box beside the one his dad set down on his bed.

"When did you complain so much?"

You narrow your eyes to him before your lips stretch into a smile as he does the same. "Touche."

Josh glances between the two of you, seeing him and Renai when they first met.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone before our first week of hell starts."

Dalton tries to stop you and fails.

You're barely out of the room for five minutes when you get a phone call from him. "What happened?"

"The usual."

A heavy sigh slips past your lips, "Dally."

He shakes his head. “Can you just- can you come back up here?”

“I’m on my way, loser.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“But it got you to crack a smile.” He denies it with the widest smile on his face before hanging up.

“Is that you’re girlfriend?” He turns to face his soon to be ex-roommate, Chris. “No.”

She shrugs. “Maybe this is the year you do something about your crush.”

-

It was an okay start to this new part of your guy's life. Meeting Chris made things more fun, although Dalton would definitely disagree.

Ever since the school year started (two days ago) and Chris told you her schedule, you two hang out in her dorm for a bit while you wait for Dalton to finish up with his art class.

She likes you and definitely understands why he likes you so much.

Her little dance stops when knocking from the other side interrupts her and startles you.

Ever since you got here, things have been getting weird for Dalton which, as much as you don’t want to admit it, it scares you.

She opens the door, peeking through the crack to find the one person that makes your eyes shine. She smiles at you with the mouthpiece to her most prized possession (and the name is something you will never remember). "See? It's just your Dally man."

You narrow your eyes to her. "Shut up."

He glances between the two of you before taking a seat near you.

"Are you ready for my latest rendition of "don't go breaking my heart" with my trusty little sidekick?"

You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, "say no."

He shakes his head.

You smile and lean closer to him, bringing him some comfort after the night he's had. You know he won’t talk about it; you asked him after the first night but knowing he’s just going to keep it to himself until he can’t any longer, the least you can do is make him smile… and hold him.

-

Everything started spiraling worse after going to that stupid frat party.

You knew he didn’t want to go to it and that’s why you tried to get Chris to change her mind but there’s no stopping that girl when she’s on a mission.

“What if we just-”

She shakes her head, “no.”

You fall back onto Dalton’s bed, turning to face him as he works at his desk. “I tried. I’m sorry.” You don’t think he heard you, but you return your attention to Chris as babbles on about how the party is just what we need.

-

And it only spiraled into something worse and worse from there.

He hasn’t stopped working on that painting. Every time he returns to his room, there he is in that chair, paintbrush in hand.

“Dalton?” You call out to him.

His body is slumped, you don’t know how long it was that he stopped working on his art, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago.

“Dally?” You push yourself off the bed and are about to place a hand on his shoulder, thinking if you gently shake him, it’ll wake him but a voice in the back of your head tells you not to. You pace back and forth behind him, “Okay, Dalton. One this is not funny. And two, I need you to wake up.”  

You lift your hand up, biting the skin on the sides of your thumbs (something you haven’t done since you were a kid).

It’s too late for you to call Chris, it’s been dark for hours, but you can’t sleep knowing Dalton can’t sleep because the guilt of knowing you can sleep and he can’t, well, it'll make you feel like an asshole. And if he can’t sleep, then you shouldn’t.

But he tells you to and not to worry about him, which makes it really hard because how can you not worry about him.

You open your eyes and are startled as the door to his dorm shuts. “Dalton?”

He pushes himself out of the chair, shaking you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? What the hell happened to you? You freaked me out. You were asleep one second and then-”

“I was up in Chris’ dorm.”

You blink once. “Huh?”

“I was- I just- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I do. You’re on some sort of drug right now and you need to tell me where your stash is so I can either join you or flush them.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I’m not on- I don’t even know what’s going on. I just- all I know is that-“

A knock on the door causes you to leap into his arms.

You two take a step towards the door with his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“I just woke up because of this,” Chris lifts up her favorite annoying thing.

You start to tear up but don’t know why. “I- oh my god.” You wipe your cheeks as the two talk.

They glance over at you, wondering if you were paying attention. They’re both alarmed at the sight of you crying.

You wave them off. “I’m fine.”

That was just the beginning of something bad coming your way.

-

You and Chris text each other periodically throughout the next few days, mainly her checking on you and you asking her what she’d found out regarding Dalton’s “condition”.

From her end, he needs sleep to which you completely agree with, but you also need to take care of yourself.

She doesn’t want anything to happen to you, you’re good for him and an amazing friend which is why it was exceedingly scary with you lying in front of her, looking as though you were dead.

She still doesn’t even know what happened even though she knows it has something to do with the spiritual world Dalton’s got himself mixed up in.

Before returning to his body, he sees the demon that's been haunting him for a little less than half his life (even if he doesn’t remember it now) hovering over your body.

You don’t know what happened during that time but you the only colors that come to mind whenever you think of it are red and black (something you’ve never told Dalton).

You moved into his dorm basically permanent after that night, followed by almost hourly texts from a certain upstairs dorm neighbor.

-

It’s been getting harder and harder to get Dalton to sleep when you can’t even do it yourself.

He sits at his desk and continues working on the painting that seems to be haunting him, something that makes you wish you could you more helpful to him but are unable to.

With everything that’s going on your kind of happy about the few classes you chose to take this year because napping throughout the day isn’t the most ideal thing for a normal college student, but it’s the only way you can keep up with Dalton. “You tired yet?”

“You asked me five minutes ago,” he mumbles, not fully taking his eyes off the painting.

“Fine. New question, have you talked to your mom or dad yet?”

“Why would I talk to them?”

“Uh, I don’t know because you’re going through astral projection moments without any proper or well-known guidance. Oh, and also your friend almost died because of some black and red thing.”

He pauses, his hand stills before he hurriedly tosses the paint brush onto the desk. “You saw it?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” you sigh.

“You are.”

“Maybe you’re just annoying.”

“I’m annoyed with a purpose. What- I mean, did you-”

“No, I just,” you throw the hood of his hoodie over your head.

“I think… maybe it’s from when you were in your coma.”

“Did you remember something?” He leans in closer.

���I just,” you glance up at him. “I feel like you should talk to your mom.”

He takes a deep breath. “No and you’re not going to win so just stop and leave it alone.”

Worst thing you could have ever done, listen to him.

You didn’t want to; you know, know you should have called her and asked her what she knows about this, but he kept assuring you that he’s got this and would ask his brother for information and that could only do so much.

Chris texted you earlier, asking if you could help her with one of her classes because you both have the same teacher, but you have the morning class, and she has the afternoon.

You decided that if he didn’t want help, he wasn’t going to get it.

The- “whole tough love routine, really?”

You furrow your brows, feeling offended and self conscious. “What?”

“Don’t what me. When has that routine ever helped someone?” She shrugs, “no, seriously. Tell me.”

You mimic her and return back to helping her study with the midterm getting closer and closer (Chris’ words, not yours).

“She finally gets it,” you say, happy to know you could help her where you could.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

She nods, stuffing her notebook back into her bag. “Yeah, why wouldn’t he?”

You bit the skin on the sides of your thumb, “I have a bad feeling.”

She glances back at you. “How bad?”

“I’m slowly getting more nauseous the longer I sit here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if you just-”

“Chris.”

She sighs, “fine. I’ll go check on your boyfriend and when I come back, telling you he’s doing just fine.”

The door slams open as she searches for something, mumbling to herself. After a few minutes, she’s found what she was looking for and turns around. She stares at you, her arms full of various lights in different shapes and sizes. "Are you coming with me or not?"

You grimace. This is too much for either of you to handle on your own. "Chris,” you hold her arm in place, “I have a bad feeling about this."

She nods; she gets it, but she also knows neither of you can leave him alone. "So do I but we can't leave him alone."

You hesitate.

“You can’t leave him alone.”

You nod, gulping down the saliva that built up in your mouth. "Okay."

You two practically run to Dalton's room.

You stand in the doorway and know something's not right but follow Chris, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone in here. You two sit on his bed, you work on untangling the lights while she tries to get them on.

She plugs it in once, you’re not as nauseous but are feeling more fear.

Another light is plugged in, and you pull your feet up from the floor. A third one and it’s suddenly colder?

"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore."

You furrow your brows, pausing your movements. "What?" A chill runs down your spine. "Chris, are you done yet?" You gulp and hurry to help Chris, knowing the dark is a bad place to be in, especially now.

She runs around the room, putting the lights in place leaving you to plug them in, wanting to light up the room. Her feet padding across the floor worry you. "Almost." She shouts, "yes!" Her side is lit.

You barely glance over at him and know what's wrong, it makes you even more nauseous; you can almost feel the bile creeping up your throat.

It feels like it’s here, the pressure tightens on your throat.

"Dalton?" She calls out for him, watching his body move as he stands in the corner.

"Chris, don't get near him." You pull her back when his head turns towards you. "It's here." You begin blinking away the tears that blur your vision.

"No," she refuses to believe it. "Dalton? What's going on there? This isn't normal. It's really weird seeing you in the dark."

You want to cry. "Stop talking."

It flings her to the side.

"Oh god," you whimper.

It turns its attention onto you as his body lets out a low growl.

"Chris, run."

She says the same to you when she sees how close Dalton's body has gotten to you.

You turn back to him and focus on his hands wrapping a piece of rope around his hands. "Where did that come from?" Tonight’s the night you're going to die. You shake your head and run towards the door. You shake to doorknob as tears fall down your cheeks. "Let me out. Let me out."

He gains control, the rope falls from his hands as he calls out for you.

You turn around and see the real him before he loses control.

You and Chris catch him before he can fall.

“You hold him and anchor him while I work on the lights.”

You can’t object as she’s already run off.

She screams as a face appears in front of her, emerging out from the depths of the darkness under the bed.

You pull her back. “Get behind me.”

She doesn’t have enough time to argue and does as she’s told.

You're stuck between the two, holding Dalton and keeping him close to you as she huddles further into you, all while fighting the spirits crawling on top of him and you.

He opens his eyes and wakes from his internal battle, the light squeeze to your hand lets you know he's here. He's with you as he forces the spirits to disappear.

You help him up, knowing he's trying to move.

Dalton starts painting with as much paint as he can with his one paintbrush.

The canvas is black.

"Is it over?" She dares to ask.

You tear up, covering your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape you.

He turns around, barely giving himself a second to take in everything that's happened as he pulls you closer to him.

“I need to call my mom,” he grabs the phone and immediately dials his mom.

“Is everyone okay?” Chris asks, knowing you can’t mutter a word right now and how close you are because you two pretty much call the Lambert's your family.

“Yeah, he’s- he’s okay. He’s back.”

“He wasn’t before?”

You lift your head off him. “He stayed behind?”

He nods. “But he’s back now and it’s gone.”

You gulp, staring into his eyes; silently thanking all and any god that they’re not yellow.

You didn’t realize you’re crying until he wipes your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sniffle; he pulls you closer to hug you; needing to feel your comforting warmth… plus Chris. “Please tell me it’s over.”

“It’s done,” Dalton informs the two of you with a stern voice.

"You’re never going to do that again. I can't lose you."

He nuzzles his nose into your head, breathing in your scent.

“I think it’s time we go home for our early semester break.”

“I,” he hesitates, “I think that’s a good idea.”

-

After saying bye to Chris and promising to text when you two actually leave campus and when we make it to the Lambert household, you finally make it to his dad’s car.

Josh smiles at the sight of you two. “Hey.”

Dalton glances away, finding making eye contact with the man to be too much. “Hey.”

His dad turns to you, “hey.”

“Hi,” you give him a small smile. “Let’s put the stuff in the car and get this long ass drive over with?”

That earns a chuckle and breaks the silence between the two.

You’re about to walk towards the back of the car when he stops in front of you. “What?”

“I can put your stuff in the back.”

You huff, “Dalton. No, just let-”

“Me put it away, you get settled into the car. I’ll be there in a second.”

You roll your eyes, “fine. I’ll just get started on the second season of-”

“Don’t you dare.”

You open the car door with a small smile on your face.

-

Josh turns to his son, not yet opening the trunk so you can’t hear their conversation (he hopes). “So?”

“What?”

His dad smiles and uses his head to gesture in your general direction. “Have you asked her?”

The look on his son’s face tells him all that he needs to know (and embarrass him). “Are you two together? Going steady? Netflix and chilling as you young kids call it.” He lightly pats the side of his arm, “come on, you can tell me… so I can tell your mother.”

The young man avoids all eye contact and stares at the ground, the warmth in his cheeks is not something he wanted to experience now, before they even leave campus. “No, I- with everything that happened, I didn’t want it to seem like I’m just asking her out to do it. You know, I- I want it to mean something.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitches, reminding him of his young self. “I know exactly what you mean and that’s why I know if you do it, she won’t think of it that way.”

Dalton slowly lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“She’s been by your side ever since the first time. No, even longer than that but especially during these times and if you don’t believe me then, you don’t know why you invited her to come with you.”

“What?”

“Put the bags in the trunk,” Josh tells him as he opens it. He sees the way his son stares at you, he did the same thing with his ex-wife. He just wishes he was as strong as the two of you and knows if he was, then maybe he and Renai would still be together.

He takes a deep breath. ‘This is what Dr. Rofuss was talking about.’ “You can sit in the back if you want, I won’t be offended.”

“She’ll make me sit there if I don’t on my own.”

His dad chuckles as he closes the trunk. “Alright then, make your choice, stud.”

“Stud?” He mutters as he walks around the car.

You shake your head and point to the front seat.

Josh silently laughs to himself when he watches the two of you two. “Show tunes?”

You give the older man a gentle smile. “Sure.”

-

Renai walks out and hugs her baby boy- he groans, “mom.”

“You’ll always be my baby no matter what age you are.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement.

Josh leans down and whispers, “you’re next.”

You quickly recover and shake your head. “No.”

He starts taking your guys bags into the house.

She stares at him for a few seconds before letting him go, turning to face you. She pulls you in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She doesn’t answer you.

-

You walk into the house, waiting to find one or both of his siblings but find neither. “Is it just us plus your parents right now?”

He shrugs, “I guess.”

“Which room am I staying in?”

He turns around and stares at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“We’re at your parents' house and I don’t think they’d approve of us, a young man and a young woman sleeping in the same room.”

“We did it at school, what’s different now?”

“We’re under the same roof.”

He grabs the bags at the end of the stairs and starts walking up. “It’s fine.”

You follow him. “I don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence on you or something.”

“She won’t, stop worrying about it.”

“Dal-”

He drops the bags and pulls you closer, cupping your cheeks. “Stop it, she would never think that. If anything,” the corner of his lips twitch. “She’d think it was me.”

You stare into his eyes, no thoughts coming to mind.

He’s waiting for you to respond but you don’t, and he doesn’t know what to do.

The creaking of the bottom stairs startles you and you pull away. “I’m going to the kitchen.”

His dad raises a brow when he finds his oldest staring at the floor with rosy, red cheeks.

-

Dinner was a little awkward at first, but you managed to make it through without raising too much suspicion from Josh and Renai (or at least, you hope that’s the case).

You run upstairs after helping his mom with the dishes (Dalton, sat at the table drawing).

-

She nudges your side, “you can go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’m sure you’ll want to get as much sleep as you can.”

You shrug, “it’s okay. I can st-”

“Nope, upstairs you go.”

“But-”

“Go,” she says, offering a kind smile.

You grab the dish towel and dry off your hands before glancing over at him, suddenly remembering the way he was staring at you, and exit.

-

You walk back out of the bathroom to grab your toothbrush so you can relax in bed, only to find someone else also brushing his teeth. “Uh- sorry- I’ll just-”

He shakes his head and spits. “It’s fine. I’m almost done.”

You know how when you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with someone and it doesn’t work?

He finishes and puts his toothbrush in its holder before walking away, only to lean against the doorway. “What’s going on with you?”

You shake your head.

“Ever since earlier-”

You finish in time to cover his mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want your parents finding out.”

He lowers your hand. “Why? It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

You avoid making eye contact, the heat in your cheeks does nothing to help you as you walk into his room. “I think I should sleep in the guest room.”

“Wait, what? Why?” He stands in front of you, stopping you from walking out. “Wh- did it,” he takes a deep breath. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

You clench your jaw, unsure of how to tell him the true reason. “I-”

“If it did, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” He studies your fidgeting. “Did you,” the corner of his lips curved upwards. “Did you like it?”

“No.”

“You answered that too quickly. You did.” He chuckles, taking a step forward. “You can tell me to stop.”

You open your mouth to respond when he cups your cheeks and pulls you closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

You furrow your brows. “I didn’t leave?”

“Ever since the whole thing happened, I just- I’m happy you’re here with me.”

You glance from one eye to the other and slide your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer, into a crushingly comforting hug.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

You play with his hair as you two stand a few feet from the open doorway.

He removes his arms from you, and you think he’s done and start to loosen your grip on him until you hold onto him for dear life. “What are you doing?!” You ask, tightening your legs around his waist.

He doesn’t reply as he sets you down on his bed.

You get the hint and lay down, opening your arms (a spot reserved for him). You play with his hair some more. “Are you ever going to get a haircut?”

“Why?” He angles his head so he can look at you.

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that. I do, I was just wondering.” His eyes twinkle and he can’t find it in him to look away. “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“Can… I kiss you?”

You stare at him with a confused expression as your brain works on processing what he’s asked. “You want to kiss me… like as a friend?”

“What friend kisses another friend?”

“You know how some families or- or like celebrities kiss each other on the lips and it's not romantic, that’s- that’s what I’m thinking of.”

He leans on one elbow, hovering over you as his hand pushes the few stands of your hair behind your ear. “I definitely don’t mean it in a friendly way.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Chris thought we were together.”

“When did she say that?”

“Our first day.”

“Oh.”

“I hated that I had to say no.”

You take a leap and hope that he wasn’t playing a mean, mean joke on you.

-

Renai and Josh have been up since earlier this morning, seeing as it almost- “Josh, it’s almost ten o’clock. I think we should go at least check on them.” She raises her shoulder, keeping her phone tucked in the crook of her neck as she prepares her cup of coffee.

“They’re enjoying their first break; they’re not going to be awake right now.”

“Yeah well… they should be otherwise they’re not going to get breakfast.”

“Wow.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

-

The door slowly creaks open as she peeks her head in only to find the two of you still asleep, cuddling in a “less than friendly” way.

She shakes her head, knowing her ex-husband's right.

[keeleyrich]

Patiently waiting for Dalton Lambert fan fictions to come out on Wattpad be like—

I’m really not patient I NEED TO SEE ANYTHING SOMETHING I SAY

[bewitchingbrie]

Imma need some good writers to write Josh Lambert x reader fics because the lack of them is deeply upsetting and I need to be satisfied with anything doesn’t matter if it’s fluff or smut or both idc just NEEEDDD josh lambert x reader in my life!

And a couple specs/tucker x reader wouldn’t hurt either to be fair

[dracoflaco]

I’ll open request too maybe 🤔

[bodieohbo]

im gonna make a taglist for the dalton fic, fill this form out if you want to be on it!! also, this fic will probably take a few weeks bc i am busy as all hell this summer lol

[doormatty3]

Pushing Further (Josh Lambert x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Josh Lambert x Female Reader] [Josh Lambert x You] There is nothing more stressful than moving day - the campus is packed with freshmen and their parents. And you just want some peace and quiet. However, amidst the tumult, a tall, broad, and handsome man grabs your attention that is until he sends you sprawling to the floor. Annoyed you go on with your life and meet Dalton who you soon befriend. When you find out that the stranger is his father - you're doomed. Josh Lambert is everything you want in a man but there are reasons why you should not give in: He's almost two decades your senior, divorced and most importantly your friend's dad So you go out of your way to avoid him and walk the tightrope between attraction and avoidance. That doesn't make him any less hot though - even more when you discover that the attraction is mutual. OR: And they were friends - except you fucked his dad.

Wordcount: 7,134

Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues

A/N: There is a criminally small amount of Josh Lambert ffs, so I decided to change that

ALSO: Insidious 5 plot (Josh Lambert) >>>>

You hate move-in day. 

The college campus swirls with a kaleidoscope of emotions. Freshmen, wide-eyed and eager, navigate through the labyrinth of unfamiliar buildings, their parents hovering nearby, taking in the scenery, a mix of pride and reluctance in their gaze as they prepare to part with their newly-minted scholars.

The sun bathes the bustling scene in its warm rays, transforming the campus into a vibrant panorama. The old grey stone building looms tall and resolute against the canvas of the sky. It wears the patina of years with a dignified charm, its weathered facade a testament to the countless stories etched into its walls.

As you observe this annual rite of passage, a sense of nostalgia mingles with a tinge of wistfulness. Your own move-in day, with its mix of excitement and trepidation, feels like a distant reverie. Now a senior, the campus teeming with eager newcomers stirs conflicting emotions. The excitement and youthful energy are heartening, yet the multitude of people and the bustling activity feel almost too much, too overwhelming.

You sit at a secluded spot beneath the sprawling canopy of one of the many trees that grace the campus. From this vantage point, you observe the ebb and flow of people, hesitant to venture into the dorms that will surely be crowded.

The leaves above gently rustle in the breeze as you sit, absorbing the sights and sounds of the day. 

Your attention is drawn to a cluster of fellow students distributing flyers, unmistakably advertising a fraternity event that you have never attended and will never attend - the frat boys just creep you out. Self-assured and arrogant has never been your type to hang out with.

However, amidst the lively scene, your gaze lingers on a lanky young man strolling by, seemingly impervious to the flyers being thrust into the hands of passersby. 

Artist, you think. Everything about him just extrudes an artistic flair and you’re sure that your assumption would be right if you were to ask him.

You watch him stride away from the frat boys and you can’t help but think that he made a good choice by not interacting with them.

Your attention shifts from the bustling crowd to the presence of a man making his way down the path. Intrigued, you furrow your brow, momentarily curious about whose father he is. Your eyes linger on him, drawn by a magnetic quality.

As he walks, you find it hard not to notice his striking appearance. Despite the rough edges, there’s a rugged handsomeness about him. He is tall, with broad shoulders and his short, wispy light brown hair catches the sunlight, adding a subtle sparkle to his presence. A scruffy stubble grazes his face, enhancing that rugged charm.

Your gaze can’t help but follow the flex of his muscles as he carries a considerable amount of stuff for his child. The hot summer day is a blessing, you think, since it prompted him to don a tight polo shirt and shorts. You silently appreciate the view - the way his biceps and triceps tense with each step, and the way the shirt accentuates the breadth of his shoulders and chest.

Silently observing, you witness him engaging in conversation with the fraternity members, taking one of their flyers, presumably for his child. You can see him being a frat boy in his younger years - he certainly has the looks. 

As he walks away, the flyer securely in his grasp, your eyes remain fixed on him. The contrast between his mature, composed stature and the frat boys is striking. His steps are deliberate, and everything about his presence seems secure and strong.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you watch him and you’re somewhat surprised - even if also glad - that he doesn’t acknowledge your burning gaze since you’re practically undressing him.

Part of you hopes that you’ll see him more often on the campus and that that won’t be the last time your paths cross - maybe you’ll be able to strike up a conversation with him.

Your gaze lingers in the direction where the broad man disappeared and you find yourself momentarily lost. The vibrant energy of those who come after him seems to pale in comparison, they fail to capture your interest and it begins to feel boring.

With a sigh, you stretch your limbs, the pull of your muscles urging you to stand up. The prospect of a quieter atmosphere within the dorms becomes increasingly tempting, and hope that the flow of people there will have dulled. 

_____

Rounding the corner and approaching your dorm, you eagerly open the door, hoping for a reprieve from the bustling crowds. However, your optimism is quickly diminished as you find the space still densely packed with a mix of eager freshmen, parents, and the occasional irritated senior, annoyed at the number of people - a hive of activity and a melting pot of an array of voices.

Undeterred, you press forward, determined to make your way to your room despite the persistent throng. 

Navigating through the diverse sea of faces you make your way down the corridor. The air is charged with a blend of anticipation, familial warmth, and a touch of exasperation from those who had hoped for a quieter return to their familiar living spaces.

The sounds of conversations, laughter, and occasional sighs create a lively symphony that fills the air, providing a vivid backdrop to the varied emotions playing out in the cramped dormitory corridor. 

Turning another corner, your curiosity is piqued, and you slow your pace to observe the activity around you. As you walk past a series of doors, your attention is drawn to the scenes unfolding in each room - freshmen unpacking with enthusiasm and parents offering last-minute advice.

Lost in this observational moment, you’re caught off guard as someone collides with you, sending you sprawling to the floor suddenly. A breath escapes you and you blink disoriented.

In the abrupt stillness that follows, you glance up to see the source of the collision, and to your surprise, it’s the handsome man from earlier. In the fleeting seconds your eyes lock, and you notice the striking shade of blue in his gaze and the sadness that seems to emanate from him.

Rather than offering a hand to help you up, he mumbles a quick apology and resumes his stride without missing a beat. A sense of frustration flares within you - as handsome as he is, his manners are clearly lacking.

Arsehole, you think as. you gather yourself from the floor with a shake of your head.

The brief encounter leaves you with a mix of bewilderment and a lingering sense of irritation as you make your way to your room.

______

Professor Armagan’s voice reverberates through the expansive art studio, commanding the attention of her assembled freshman class as she introduces you. 

“Today, I want you to meet one of our seniors—she’s really gifted, and it’s important to me that you get to know more students of mine,“ she declares, her enthusiasm evident in the cadence of her words.

You raise your hand in acknowledgement, a subtle greeting to the newcomers, and take a moment to let your eyes wander across the room. The art studio, a sanctuary of creativity, is filled with eager faces, each potentially harbouring a unique artistic voice.

As your gaze travels through the room, you spot the lanky boy from the first day. 

Ha, I knew it, a quiet sense of validation washes over you - your intuition about him being an artist appears spot-on and judging by the strokes on his canvas, a talented one at that.

The lesson unfolds with a straightforward tempo, and your role is mainly confined to sharing insights about the college and providing a glimpse into how art functions in Professor Armagan’s class. The information is delivered efficiently, and you find yourself relieved as the session concludes.

“Hi, I’m Dalton,“ the lanky boy strides up to you, extending a hand in greeting.

You reciprocate with a friendly smile, taking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Dalton,“ 

As your eyes fall upon Dalton’s pencil drawing, you can’t help but offer a genuine compliment. “Wow, this is really good. You’ve got some serious talent,“ you remark, appreciating the skill evident in his work.

Dalton’s face lights up with a grateful smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that,“ he replies, the sincerity in his tone confirming your initial impression of him as a genuinely nice individual, and you find yourself thinking that Dalton is the kind of person you could see yourself being friends with. 

“You have to work on your disguise though - I could tell from a mile away that you chose the art program and was just wondering whether you made it to her class,“ with a playful grin, you jest to Dalton.

Dalton chuckles at your remark, and there’s a warmth in his response, “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty obvious, huh? Can’t hide the artist in me, I suppose.“

As you both exit the art studio together, the door softly closes behind you, the ambient sounds of the campus filling the air. The sunlight casts a warm glow over the pathway as you begin to make your way through the bustling campus, the occasional laughter and conversations of students blending into the lively background.

Turning to Dalton, you initiate a conversation about his college experience so far. 

“So, how are you finding college so far? How’s it treating you?“ you inquire, a casual smile accompanying your words.

Dalton reflects, “It’s been an interesting ride. Meeting new people, navigating through classes, and, of course, diving into the art program. It’s everything I hoped for, honestly.“

The two of you continue to stroll, the campus unfolds around you. 

Dalton shares more about his classes and the artistic projects he’s eager to explore, and you reciprocate with your own anecdotes.

Continuing your conversation, you find a natural segue to inquire about Dalton’s residence on campus. “By the way, which dorm are you in?“ you ask curiously with a casual tone.

Dalton smiles, “Oh, I’m in the last one down the path. How about you?“

As he reveals his dormitory, you can’t help but feel a spark of excitement. “No way! Me too,“ you respond, a genuine grin spreading across your face.

Dalton’s eyes light up with joy, and you pick up on the enthusiasm that suggests he might not have a large circle of friends. 

He suggests, “We should totally hang out sometime. And you’ve got to meet my roommate, Chris – she’s really cool.“

You quirk an eyebrow and playfully tease Dalton, “Rooming with a girl, huh? The administration must have a wild sense of humour.“

Dalton chuckles, “Yeah, it was a bit of a surprise for both of us. Chris is fine, though. We make it work.“

You share a laugh, the notion of unexpected room assignments becoming a shared source of amusement. “Well, I’m definitely looking forward to meeting this mysterious Chris. Maybe the three of us could grab a coffee or something,“ you suggest, already envisioning potential hangout sessions.

Dalton’s eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm. “That sounds awesome! Chris will love it. She’s been itching to make some new friends around here.“

“How about this? There’s this amazing little coffee shop I’ve been a regular at since my first year here. It’s got this cosy vibe, and I think you and Chris would really enjoy it,“ you suggest, your enthusiasm echoing through your words.

Dalton’s eyes light up even more, his excitement matching yours. “That sounds awesome! I’m in, and I’m sure Chris will love it too.“

As you and Dalton walk through the dormitory halls, he suddenly comes to a stop and points to a door. “This is my room,“ he says with an appreciative smile, gratitude evident in his eyes.

You return the smile and quip, “Well, look at that! I guess I’ve been on the unofficial welcome committee. My room’s just further down the hall.“

Dalton laughs, appreciating the light-hearted exchange. “Thanks for walking with me. Do you wanna stop by tomorrow? I’d introduce you to Chris and we can get that coffee?“

“Absolutely, sounds like a plan,“ you respond. “See you tomorrow, dude,“ you add with a nod and a parting wave, continuing down the hall to your own room.

_____

The next day, you make your way to Dalton and Chris’s room, thankful to do something today. The familiar dormitory halls lead you to their door, and you give a light knock before it swings open.

Dalton greets you with a welcoming smile. “Hey! Glad you could make it. This is Chris,“ he introduces, gesturing towards a short, black girl with braided hair, vibrant clothes, and a warm smile.

“Nice to meet you! Dalton’s mentioned you,“ Chris says and extends her hand, you grab it and shake it.

Upon entering the room, your eyes are immediately drawn to Dalton’s paintings adorning the walls. “These are really nice,“ you remark, genuinely appreciating the artistic talent displayed.

Dalton beams with gratitude. “Thanks,“ he responds, a hint of pride in his voice.

As the three of you settle into conversation, you decide to delve into a bit of small talk. “So, Chris, do you also major in art?“ you inquire, curious about her academic pursuits.

Chris chuckles, her demeanour warm and friendly. “Nope, not at all. I’m actually a math major. Total left brain-right brain dynamic we’ve got going on here,“ she says with a playful twinkle in her eye.

As the conversation flows, a sudden knock interrupts the camaraderie. Chris and Dalton exchange confused glances, both wearing expressions of mild bewilderment. “Were you expecting someone?“ Chris asks, looking at Dalton.

Dalton shakes his head, equally puzzled. “No, I have no idea. Were you?“

“Nah,“ Chris mirrors the headshake.

The room falls into a brief silence as Dalton opens the door, revealing a man standing on the threshold. Dalton’s confusion is palpable as he utters, “Dad?“

A breath hitches in your throat as recognition sets in. It’s him - the handsome man from your first day, the same person who unintentionally sent you sprawling to the floor and didn’t have the decency to help you up. The lingering ache in your hip serves as a constant reminder of that memorable encounter.

“Hey. Sorry for the surprise visit. I was in the area and thought I’d drop by and talk to Dalton,“ he says, his eyes widening a bit as they lock onto yours. Recognition flickers across his face. “I’m Josh, by the way.“

Holding his gaze, you find yourself momentarily captivated, drinking in the details like a starved soul. His blue eyes, once a passing detail, now reveal a depth that draws you in. The slight curl of his hair at the nape of his neck and around his ears adds a touch of casual charm, accentuated by the scruff of his beard that now appears more prominent. Your gaze appreciatively lingers on the nuances, savouring the details.

Your appreciative gaze shifts downward, taking in the way his dark blue, tight dress jacket with rolled-up sleeves complements the form-fitting light blue t-shirt beneath. The fabric spans deliciously over his broad shoulders, chest, and the little tummy he has, accentuating his physique effortlessly. It makes you want to be under him, your bodies pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly with his strong body - you’re sure that he’s soft in just the right places while being muscular and powerful.

The spell of fascination is abruptly broken as Chris, standing next to you, coughs purposefully to snap you out of your trance. The sudden interruption startles both you and Josh and you tear your eyes away from him. 

You can’t shake the feeling that the attraction is not one-sided. Josh’s lingering gaze and the subtle shift in his expression suggest that he, too, was captivated.

The realization that the attraction might be mutual, even in this unexpected and somewhat inappropriate context, leaves a tinge of discomfort. Josh is not just a stranger; he’s Dalton’s dad, Dalton who is your friend. You silently hope that Dalton didn’t pick up on it. 

Meeting Dalton’s gaze, you instantly sense that hope is futile - his raised eyebrow speaks volumes,

Josh clears his throat and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, your eyes involuntarily follow the movement, captivated by the subtle gestures. 

For a brief moment, you indulge in the thought of his lips on yours, and his tongue on you. You wonder, if the stubble would scratch you, leaving marks on your skin so you could remember and feel him days later.

“Well, I should get going—I didn’t want to interrupt you,“ Josh says, directing his gaze at you again. “It was nice to meet you.“

As Josh offers a tight-lipped smile and exits the room. Once he’s gone, both Dalton and Chris turn their attention toward you.

“What was that?“ Chris’s inquiry comes with a hint of humour.

“Could you not undress him with your eyes next time - he’s my dad,“ Dalton says to you and you feel your cheeks heating up.

“I’m sorry, man,“ you mumble, a tinge of embarrassment colouring your words, “It isn’t my fault he’s hot.“

_____

The next time you encounter him, you’re on your way to your dorm as Josh is just leaving.

“Hey, Josh,“ you greet him with a bright smile.

He responds with a big, bright, and goofy grin etched on his handsome face. You can’t help but think that he looks good when he smiles. 

“Hey, it’s nice to see you again,“ he greets you, his eyes sweeping over your form, lingering longer on the neckline of your tight shirt than is appropriate. 

“I’m sorry for running you over when he first met,“ he starts, scratching over the hair on the back of his head, “ Or at least just walking away and not helping you up again.“

You reach out to place a reassuring hand on the skin of his arm. Intending for it to be a featherlight, brief touch, as soon as your fingertips trace over his arm, it feels like electricity is being passed through you. 

Josh, in response to the touch, swallows heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a visible display of tension. Instead of pulling away, he surprises both of you by taking your hand in his. Intertwining your fingers, he begins to rub soothing circles over the back of your hand with his thumb.

You notice the size of his hands—big and fitting for a man of his stature.

At that moment, it feels as though time stands still. Both of you just stand there, locked in a gaze, drinking in each other’s presence. 

As he moves a bit closer, you become acutely aware of him, and his scent engulfs you like a private cocoon. It’s uniquely him - a blend of cologne and something inherently Josh. The cologne carries a woody fragrance, specifically dry wood, with nuanced undertones of sandalwood and amber.

The sun casts shadows on his face and accentuates the contours of his features. You observe that the short beard framing his face is threaded with salt-and-pepper hair. The interplay of light and shadows makes him more than just attractive—it renders him captivating. 

His blue eyes, sparkling in the sunlight, reveal a depth that draws you in. They are akin to fire in water, reflecting a passionate intensity that burns within the warm sun-lit undercurrents of his gaze. 

The healthy shine of his hair catches your attention, and you can’t help but notice the vibrancy it adds to his overall appearance. Your fingers itch to push the wayward locks behind his ear again, to feel if it is as soft as it looks.

The enchanting moment is abruptly shattered as someone carelessly bumps into you, jolting you out of the reverie. In the sudden disturbance, Josh releases your hand.

“I-,“ he clears his throat, the remnants of the charged moment still lingering, “should get going.“

There’s a palpable pause, a shared awareness of the disrupted connection. At that moment, you sense that he, too, is affected by the sudden intrusion into the private bubble you unintentionally created. The unspoken understanding between you deepens, and as he looks at you with an intensity that mirrors your own feelings, you find yourself nodding in agreement.

As Josh begins to move away, you’re left standing there, your gaze fixed on him. Your eyes trail along his departing figure, captivated by the sight of his muscular back.

_____

The inappropriate thoughts about Josh weigh heavily on your conscience, creating a turbulent storm of emotions within you that refuses to settle.  Part of you acknowledges the relief of not having seen him in quite some time, while another part feels a twinge of sadness - There’s an undeniable sense of loss or longing; you want to see him again. 

But you cherish your friendship with Dalton and don’t want to jeopardise it. It feels like you walk on a tightrope between desire and loyalty, especially because you’re fairly certain that this perpetual tension will snap at some point. So you find yourself consciously avoiding Dalton and Chris’s room. The fear of running into his handsome father fuels you, in particular, because he seems to make frequent visits - and the question lingers in the front of your mind: does he purposefully stop by so often, driven by a desire to see you?

Your gaze drifts around your dorm room, and you spot a sketchbook that isn’t yours. A moment of realization hits you like a sudden jolt—shit, that’s Dalton’s. He’s forgotten it again.

With the certainty that both Dalton and Chris are currently in class, you entertain the idea of stopping by to return the forgotten sketchbook. The timing seems opportune—no risk of encountering them, and by extension, no chance of a surprise visit from Josh, Dalton’s father.

The thought forms a plan in your mind, and you decide to seize the moment. The dormitory halls echo with quiet solitude as you make your way to Dalton and Chris’s room.

The door swings open, and to your surprise, the room isn’t as empty as you expected. There, standing in the middle of the room is Josh,

Time seems to slow as you lock eyes with him, and an involuntary thought escapes your mind— Jesus, your memories really didn’t do his handsomeness justice.

You find yourself taking in the details—the way the room frames him, the play of light accentuating the contours of his features, and the way his presence seems to fill the space.

All the subtle nuances of his appearance, from the slightly tousled hair to the hint of scruff on his jaw, draw your attention. His blue eyes, usually a captivating shade, seem to shine darker than normal, adding a layer of intensity to the moment.

“I didn’t expect you here,“ the words escape your mouth, almost breathlessly, and you curse the involuntary reaction you have to Josh.

Instead of responding immediately, he looks you over, his gaze lingering on your form. Then, he opens his mouth and says, “You’ve been avoiding me.“ 

It’s not a question; it’s a statement, and it holds a truth you can’t deny. You have been avoiding him, but it’s more about not trusting yourself in his presence than anything else.

As you remain silent, Josh takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand lands on the wood of the door, near your head, applying gentle pressure. The muscles in his chest and arms tense as he leans against the door, closing it with a quiet click. 

Instead of moving away, he keeps standing there, effectively boxing you in between the door and his body.

He maintains an unbroken gaze on you, his eyes locked onto yours. The close proximity allows you to observe the intricate details of his eyes. They are not uniformly blue; instead, there’s a fascinating interplay of shades. A ring of light blue delicately encircles the pupil, creating a mesmerizing gradient with the darker blue that surrounds it. The hues blend seamlessly, forming a captivating dance of colours within the confines of his gaze.

The fragile silence hangs in the air, and a subtle fear lingers—fear that any spoken word or sudden movement might shatter the enchanting spell woven between you and Josh. In the cocoon of quietude, you choose to remain still, each heartbeat echoing in the confined space, cautious not to disrupt the delicate equilibrium of the moment. 

You can’t help but feel lazy arousal starting to pool through your veins, fueled by Josh.

“Tell me to stop,“ Josh speaks, his words almost a whisper, “tell me to walk away.“

The quiet plea hangs in the air, revealing the internal struggle he faces. He’s your friend’s dad, divorced, and almost two decades your senior—valid reasons to resist the magnetic pull drawing you both in. Yet, in this charged moment, those rational arguments seem to lose their significance in the haze of him that clouds your thoughts. 

Your eyes flicker to his lips, and as quietly as he had spoken, you finally respond, “Kiss me.“

And so he does. 

Josh’s lips descend to yours, capturing you in a kiss that feels both urgent and consuming. His warm hand gently cups your cheek, adding a tender touch to the intensity of the moment. It’s a kiss that feels like an act of hunger as if he’s been starved and you are the only remedy to satiate it.

Your hands find their way to his strong shoulders, instinctively pulling him closer as you reciprocate the kiss. The texture of his lips against yours becomes a tactile language, each brush and press conveying a depth of emotion words might fall short of capturing. You feel his stubble scrape over your skin. The taste of his kiss is a fusion of want and need, a shared desire that resonates between you, eclipsing any reservations that linger in the back of your mind. 

Josh breaks the kiss, and both of you are left breathless. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,“ he confesses, his voice laden with a mixture of desire and relief.

He starts leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, and you laugh quietly in response. “Well, I have an idea,“ you playfully remark and reminisce of when you first met him - you wanted to do that since then. 

“Yeah, tell me,“ Josh smiles, his hand finding its way into your hair, tightening its grip. He is looking directly into your eyes smouldering blue burning into you as he leans down to bite into your bottom lip lightly.

“Josh,“ was all you managed to say in a breathy voice.

His lips move to your jaw, leaving soft kisses and sucking a mark into the soft skin of your neck, letting his teeth nip over the spot before moving on. You let out a moan and dig your fingers into his shoulders, before loosening your hold and roaming his whole back. You feel the strength of his muscles between your hands as well as the heat he emanates. 

Not being able to contain yourself, you are desperate for some skin so you lift up the hem of his shirt and slip your hands under it, feeling his skin. 

With a groan Josh presses his hips into yours, making you feel the hardness of the erection he is sporting. You grind against it as you feel your heart beating fast in your chest.

Josh pulls back, his eyes dark and glinting with arousal. 

He slips his thick fingers under the thin straps of your dress and pulls them over your shoulders, leaving burning pathways in the wake of his touch. At that moment, you’re so glad you decided to wear a dress. And you second that again, when he tucks down the upper part of your dress, exposing your breasts to his nimble fingers and hungry eyes.

Almost instantly his hands find their way to your tits and you groan when he rubs the pad of his thumb over your nipple. 

Josh takes his sweet time exploring you and finding out which sound he can wring from you by just his hands touching your chest. Deliberately, he flicks his forefinger against the hardened bud before capturing it between two fingers, rolling and tugging on it.

His lips skate over your collarbones, nibbling and sucking leaving more marks in his wake. 

Something shortcircuits in your brain when you notice how his hands span over your ribs, making you feel fragile beneath him. And in that moment you want nothing more than for him to just lift you and impale you on him, manipulate you to his liking until the only thing you can remember is his name. 

You hook your fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips against yours, wishing that he wasn’t wearing anything. You feel the hardness of his cock pressed against your belly as you grind down on him. 

When his lips and fingers leave your skin you almost whine at the loss of contact but Josh wraps an arm around your back, pulling you flush against his thick frame before covering your mouth with his own again, possessing you.

He presses one of those strong thighs between your legs, pressing it against your clothed cunt, locking you against the wood of the door again. Without a coherent thought, you moan into his mouth as the rough fabric of his jeans rubs over your wet pussy.

Frantic your hands undo the belt and open his jeans, pushing it down, before tugging on his shirt, desperate for more skin. Josh takes pity on your frazzled attempts and takes off his shirt, pulling it over his head as well as letting his jeans fall to the floor with a quiet thud. 

His skin is damp, a thin sheen of sweat giving it a dewy glow that catches the light of the room. Your eyes trace over him appreciatively, taking in the details that make him undeniably attractive as he just watches you with dark, hooded eyes. 

The rise and fall of his chest, accompanied by a scattering of sparse chest hair, draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on the muscles that play beneath the softness of his belly. In this moment, you find that he is a perfect harmonious mix between being ripped and soft.

Driven by a need to touch - to feel - him your fingers trace a delicate path across Josh’s chest, shoulders, and belly, exploring the terrain of his skin with a gentle curiosity. 

As your fingertips navigate the expanse of his chest, you feel his breath and breathing heart, a subtle rhythm syncing with the beating of your own heart. The transition to his shoulders unveils the sinewy strength that lies beneath, a testament to the physicality that drew you in. Moving lower, your touch encounters the softness of his belly, tracing the trail of hair that leads into his briefs. 

Without warning you cup his hard cock that’s straining against the fabric of his underwear, making him groan, a deep sound that reverberates through his chest. 

Josh wraps his arms around you, lifting you up as he dips his head to kiss you. He bites your lip, the sharp nip of his teeth making you whimper into his mouth. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass as he carries you, prompting you to wrap your legs around his thick middle.

With one fluid movement, he sets you down on the desk, dimly you register the books on the table being swept to the floor. He slots himself between your legs as he tangles his hand in your hair to tilt your head back to force you to meet his gaze.

“If you want to stop - at any point - you tell me,“  Josh’s voice is a quiet, husky murmur, the darkness in his eyes reflecting the pleasure shared between you. His lips, now deliciously pinked from your kisses, hover close.

Wordlessly, you nod. In this moment, he embodies everything you desire and more, a captivating presence that has ensnared your senses. If this is your only chance at tasting him, feeling him, having you - you’ll gladly take it. If not somewhat sad, because you’re sure you will not be able to forget him.

He captures your lips in another short kiss while hitching your dress up higher. Josh’s hand is between your legs now, rubbing one finger over your clothed cunt. You just know that the cotton has to be damp, that he now feels how much you want this - want him.

When he applies more pressure, scraping over your clit you arch your back into his touch. His eyes are on yours, drinking in your every reaction. 

Josh repeats the act and you rake your fingers over his back so hard you’re certain to have marked him. It’s making him moan, low, deep and frantic as if he’s enjoying this as much as you. Your entire skin fizzles with electricity upon his reaction.

In one fluid motion, he seats himself beneath your things and yanks your ass off the edge of the desk. His fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he pulls them down, off your legs.

Just the sight of Josh between your legs edges you closer to an orgasm. His big hands are wrapped around your thighs, keeping you open for him. If you had to describe the look in his eyes you don’t know if another word than feral was fitting. 

He makes you want to paint him, to capture this moment for eternity, with his messy hair and dark eyes.

Your head falls back and every thought becomes impossible when he presses a featherlight kiss on your clit, the stubble prickling like electricity. You cry out when he draws a circle around it with his wet tongue.

“You need to be quiet, sweetheart,“ he says, voice low, rough and deep. “Wouldn’t want anyone to come in here, right?“

You can’t do much other than nod - you know that you can try but you also surely know that you will fail.  

As soon as Josh presses his palm across your stomach to hold you down and tastes your cunt with a long lick you lose that train of thought again. 

He builds you up with a slow and dexterous tongue, determined to make you cum beneath him. Your back arches off the desk, only held down by his strong arm as you whimper. 

You feel your cunt clenching and you’re sure that you’re staining the desk with your wetness. 

Arousal crashes through your vein and you feel yourself getting closer - and he apparently also does because he hooks his arms around you, to pull you closer to his mouth. 

A curse rolls over your tongue when he sinks two of his thick fingers into your cunt, curling them inside your so you spasm around him.

While you know that your orgasm is drawing closer it still hits you like a freight train. The mixture of his fingers and his mouth on your clit brings you over the edge. 

You cry out and your back arches off the desk, fire pulsing through you. Josh’s mouth is still on you, licking through your wet cunt, catching every drop. You feel like your muscles are locking up and the fire has extended to your lungs as he continues to work you through it. Only when you whimper against him, overstimulated he pulls back. 

Josh’s neck and chin are coated in your wetness, glistening in the light of the room. A blinding smile is etched across his features, reaching his eyes. The pleasure radiating from him is palpable and genuine, he likes how you react to him.

Your fingers instinctively dig into the firm contours of Josh’s shoulders, a desperate longing urging him to rise and meet your lips. In response, his strong arms envelop you, pulling you irresistibly close as your mouths meld together in a fervent kiss. You taste the salty tang of yourself on his tongue. 

His hard cock is pressed against your bare cunt and you grind down on him, making him groan into the kiss. Just from feeling him, you know that he’s big and you ache to get your hands on him.

You reach into his briefs, following the trail of hair. Josh’s cock is thick and twitching in your palm as you smear precum over him to jerk him off easier. 

God, he’s going to split you in half, make you burn from the stretch as he forces you to accept every thick, hot inch of him.

Driven by need you push his underwear over his hips, mesmerizes as you finally see him naked. His dick stands proud and hard in neatly trimmed pubic hair. You wrap your hand around him again, tracing the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. Josh jerks his hips into your hand and you wet your lips as you clench around nothing. 

It’s almost surreal, the realization that this handsome and gorgeous man is as captivated by you as you are by him and you itch to return the favour and take him into your mouth to see what sounds you can elicit from him.

But when you show signs of slipping from the desk he stops you with a long-fingered hand on your thigh. 

“You can return the favour next time, we have to be quick,“ Josh’s voice is husky and dark as his eyes are on you intently.

Next time? Fuck, yes, you really hope that there will be a next time because you don’t think you can get enough of him.

His arms wrap around you again to claim your mouth before lifting you up from the desk. The dig of his fingers into your skin lingers are you just hope that they will bruise. He walks both of you over to a bed in the room, laying you down on your back.

Josh is a solid form above you, chest heaving as he braces his weight on his elbows. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, before licking a stripe along the length of your pulse.  

The feeling of his weight pressing you into the bed with his bare chest on yours is indescribable. The soft swell of his stomach against yours is heavenly s you claw into his shoulders and back to pull him further on you,

“Fuck me, please,“ your voice wrecked and hoarse as you buck against him, feeling his hard dick press against you.

He pushes his cock against your cunt, nudging your clit with every stroke, just slicking himself with your wetness. 

You whimper when you feel the tip of his broad dick slide into you, keeping it buried inside you, “Josh, please .“

Josh takes pity on you. He leans forwards and his eyes are on yours as he fills you with short and shallow thrusts, inching his cock further and further inside you. Your eyes fall closed at the overwhelming feeling of him in your cunt and he stops again.

Your eyes fly open when his hand finds its way around your throat, wordlessly telling you to keep your gaze locked on him. The slow drag of his dick elicits a high-pitched whine from you.

When his hips are flush against yours, he stills, giving you time to get used to him.

“Just like that…. You’re doing so well,“ his voice is low as he praises you. 

The combination of the barely contained edge in his voice and the praise causes you to clench around him, making Josh groan. You’re drunk off him, off how you feel every ridge, every vein against the wall of your cunt. 

When he pulls back and only leaves the tip inside you again, you whine. That is soon replaced by a loud moan as he slams his whole length into you. 

He feels impossibly deep in your cunt, like he’s carving himself inside with every slap, stroke and thrust of his hips. There is nothing you can do but lay there and take it.

With every thrust, he almost growls into your ear as he possesses you. The slap of his balls against you and the wet squelch of your cunt is loud in the room as he continues to wreck you.

The head of his cock drags over that spot that makes you see stars and you twitch and jerk against him, completely overwhelmed by him. 

You hiss when he reaches between you to press the pad of his thumb against your sensitive clit. He flicks it against it before starting to rub small circles that make you quiver under him and clench around him. 

Josh’s face is the epitome of concentration as he drives his dick inside you again and again, his brow furrowed as he fucks the both of you towards your high. 

You scream when you come. Blinding pleasure shoots through your veins, expanding from inside you and engulfing you. His lips come down to kiss you, capturing you in a feverish and feral kiss. Your teeth click together as he devours you and continues to slam into you. 

With a load groan, he pushes into you as deep as possible, clutching you tightly as his hips jerk and he spills inside you.  

He kisses you, hard and short while he keeps his hips flush with yours as he rocks them, milking himself dry. 

It feels almost soft when he pushes your damp hair from your face and cups your cheek as you catch your breath. The kiss you share is lazy and soft, your hands comb through his hair lightly. You wrap your arms around him tightly, holding him close and savouring the feeling of his body on yours. 

The post-orgasmic bliss disperses suddenly when you feel him soften inside you, his cum leaking onto the bed.

“Shit, Josh,“ panic is evident in your voice, “Get up.“ 

The realisation hits you, that Josh just ruined you in the room of his son  - on his desk and bed. You know that you can’t pretend that this never happened, not when you know how perfect he feels inside you or how he looks when he comes.

His quiet laugh irritates you at first but your eyes flutter closed again when he presses his lips against yours. 

“It will be fine,“ Josh’s blue eyes shine bright as he traces your lips with his thumb, “Let’s get cleaned up first. And then I’d like to take you out for some food.“

“Yeah… yeah,“ you start, a smile on your features, “I’d like that.“

[ellebakers]

☆ Make me your Aphrodite (+18)

Dalton Lambert x reader

Summary : Dalton put your ex Ethan Landry in his place.

Warning(s) : SMUT, Language.

You threw your head back, your mouth wide open with moans escaping while Dalton continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

“Dalton, please don’t stop.” You whispered to him, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. But you're pretty sure they heard you moan when Dalton slid his tongue inside you.

The blond looked up at you, and a flash of mischief crossed his eyes. “I wasn’t planning on stopping.”

He went back to his work and took you closer and closer to your orgasm. As you were about to cum he suddenly stopped and placed light kisses on the inside of your thighs, making you groan in frustration.

“I thought you weren’t planning to stop ?"

Dalton couldn't help but smile at how disappointed you were that you didn't cum.

“You’re the one who turned me on all week.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “And you woke me up in the middle of the night to fuck.”

your boyfriend moved back up to your face and placed a kiss on your lips. “Can you blame me ?”

You grabbed his face and kissed him again.

“Not at all but.” You swapped positions to find yourself on top of him. Grabbing his hands, you slipped them under your, or rather, his, t-shirt and placed them on your breasts. “I want you.” You sucked through your teeth as he kneaded your breasts and rolled your already erect nipples between his fingers "Now."

He bit his lip. “Is my girl impatient ?”

You moved your pelvis on his erect member, making him growl. You tilted your head, a mischievous smile. “Can you blame me ?”

He shook his head, smiling. "I'm so in love with you."

You couldn't help but smile as you leaned in to kiss him. “I am even more so.” He smiled against your lips. “Now fuck me, please.”

He stifled a laugh. “I love it when you beg.” With one hand he freed his cock from his underwear, you helped him get rid of his underwear completely and you grabbed his cock then impaled yourself on it making you both moan.

He immediately grabbed your hips to hold you. You started your movements and you thought you would die of pleasure as the pleasure rose in you.

“You like it don’t you ?”

You couldn't form a coherent response so you nodded. He put his hand around your throat and squeezed lightly making you moan even more, and wet at the same time.

Even though you loved having the upper hand on him in bed, you loved it even more when he was aggressive and dominant.

You hadn't had many sexual partners. You lost your virginity in high school, to a guy in your class who fucked you in the back of his car on prom night, not very romantic.

Subsequently you dated a boy, your best friend's roommate. Ethan Landry, and it had been the worst decision of your life, he was jealous and toxic, not to mention that he had never managed to make you cum. Your relationship must have lasted a month.

Then you met Dalton, you had been together for four months and he fulfilled you, in every way.

It's like the sky had shaped your two bodies so that they fit together perfectly. He found your G-spot in no time, every time you slept together it was like he read your thoughts, when you wanted wild sex, he took you in positions worthy of a porno, and when you wanted it to be romantic, he made love to you under the light of candles and the moon.

But now, you wanted him to fuck you so violently that you wouldn't be able to walk the next day.

“Dalton, go harder.” You whispered to him, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

In a second he turned you around, your stomach on the mattress, he spread your legs even further and penetrated you in one movement making you scream, camouflaged by a pillow. His thrusts became more and more violent as you cried out with pleasure into the pillow.

Another thing you loved about Dalton was that he talked a lot during the act, and god, his words alone could have made you cum.

“Don’t be shy, let me hear your pretty noises.”

“They will hear.” You moaned your sentence as you felt your orgasm approaching.

He withdrew and turned you over again, this time on your back, you knew very well what that meant, he was going to cum soon, and since he wasn't wearing a condom, he preferred to withdraw.

You decided to taunt him a little “already ?”

He came on your stomach with a grunt, once finished he caught his breath. "Don’t worry I have plans for you."

You let out a little surprised cry when he turned you around again, he took one of your hands and locked it on the pillow, then he sucked you

"I intend to make you cum until you begged me to stop."

And oh, Dalton was a man of his word, he positioned himself behind you, and for the second time that night he inserted his tongue inside you, making you see stars, in no time you were cumming on his tongue, but he didn't didn't stop there, he gently put you back on your back and devoured you for the rest of the night until you begged him to stop.

.

The next morning, Dalton woke you up with gentle kisses on your shoulder. "Hello Princess."

You stretched, smiling at him. “Hello handsome.”

He kissed you passionately while sliding his hand between your legs, making you moan.

“Still so sensitive.”

You laughed against his mouth. "Your fault."

He inserted a finger inside you and you moved your pelvis to follow his movements. “Fuck, if I could I’d be inside you all the time.”

You arched your back when he did the scissor.

You placed your hand on his to prevent him from removing it. “I want your-”

“Y/n do you have my-”

Dalton threw the blanket over you to cover your naked body as Samantha entered your room.

When she saw you, she quickly understood what was happening and she hid her eyes. "Oh shit, I'm really sorry. Take your time, breakfast is served."

Then she came out, closing the door behind her. You burst out laughing as Dalton hid his face in your neck. “I think they’re waiting for us.”

He nodded and let you get out of bed, he watched you put your panties and t-shirt back on, when you didn't see him move from the bed you frowned.

"You’re coming ?"

“I need five minutes.” You laughed again and threw a pillow at him. "

Take your time."

You sat down at the table and Tara held back from laughing as she met your gaze, you bit your lip to do the same as the others arrived at the table.

"Slept well ?" Quinn asked.

Mindy poured herself some orange juice "Great, well I think I slept more than someone else." She said, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

Chad threw a piece of bread to his sister. “Stop bothering her.” He turned to you and asked, “Where’s Dalton?”

You brought your cup of coffee to your mouth and avoided his gaze. “Um, he needed five minutes.”

Your friends burst out laughing while you tried not to do the same. Everyone was laughing except Ethan of course, he gave you murderous looks.

Dalton walked out of the room, stretching and sitting next to you, he kissed your temple and poured himself a glass of orange juice.

Tara winked at you. "So Dalton, were these five minutes satisfactory ?"

He choked on his drink making everyone laugh including you. He turned to you and rolled his eyes. “You had to say it.”

You kissed him. "Sorry."

He put a lock of hair behind your ear and breakfast resumed a normal rhythm, not for you, you were stressed, not because your friends had heard you moaning last night but because you felt Ethan's burning gaze on you, and Dalton had noticed it too, he put a protective arm around your waist up and slide your chair closer to him.

“And you Ethan, your night ?” Tara asked him.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I have known better, if only some people learned to shut their fucking mouth everyone would be better.”

His comment chilled the table, Dalton sat up slightly in his chair. “What is that supposed to mean ?"

Ethan had the nerve to smile at your boyfriend. “You know very well what that means.”

Everyone exchanged awkward glances, while Quinn tried to lighten the atmosphere. “Ethan can you go get the sugar please.” But the brunette didn't listen to her, he had a mission, to destroy Dalton.

"You know some of us have real career ambitions. So hearing you fucking your girlfriend keeps me from sleeping and therefore from being productive in class."

You glared at Ethan, while Dalton snickered. "Real career ambitions ? Like what, being an asshole in chief ?"

Ethan stood up abruptly, Dalton did the same and the tension rose. Suddenly your ex showed a smile. “But, I understand you.” He looked at you. “I fucked her too, I know how good she is.”

You expected your boyfriend to lunge at his throat but instead he smiled at him. "You mean when you lasted two minutes and you didn't make her cum ? You see, I can make her cum unlike you."

You stood up, grabbing your coffee cup. “Thanks guys, I love being talked about like I’m a fucking object.”

You gave Ethan and Dalton a murder look, the two boys watched you leave, Ethan with hatred, while Dalton quickly understood that he had screwed up. "Shit." He whispered.

“Are you going to fuck her to make things right ?” Your ex asked him.

“Ethan stop.” Chad intervened, annoyed by his roommate's behavior, Chad’scold tone and the mean look of the others silenced him as Dalton headed towards your room.

.

He found you sitting at your desk, an animal medicine book open in front of you as you took notes.

He approached slowly and kissed your neck, seeing that you didn't push him away he placed his head on your shoulder. "I'm sorry." He whispered to you.

You put your pen down and sighed. "I know." He gently turned your chair towards him, once you were face to face he knelt down and took your hands in his.

“I didn’t think, it just came out.”

You met his sad gaze and you quickly forgot why you were angry with him, then it came back to you.

"I don't like the way you talk about me. It seems like I'm just some kind of prize, some fucking competition."

"I know, I'm sorry, he pissed me off and I really wanted to hit him but I know you don't want me to give him that satisfaction so that's the only thing that came to mind has the mind to hurt him."

You put your arms around his neck and nodded. “I understand, but please don’t say things like that again.”

"Promised."

He nodded and kissed you. “I love you so much y/n.”

You lightly bit his lip. "I love you even more."

Suddenly he stood up abruptly. “I have to show you something.” He went to get his sketchbook and showed you his latest work.

“The exercise was to give our image of Aphrodite.”

You were speechless when you saw what he had drawn. You.

"But it's me."

He pressed his forehead to yours and nodded.

"You are my image of Aphrodite."

You grabbed his face and whispered against his lips, “Then make me your Aphrodite.”

[clemkruckinnie]

first time-d.lambert

summary: dalton decides he wants to take his relationship with you a step further.

You feel peaceful.

Though it’s a Friday night on campus, you and Dalton have created a peaceful little corner of the dorm for yourself. You can’t help but steal glances at your boyfriend, scribbling furiously in his sketchbook. He’s drawing, and erasing, and drawing again, and before you can ask what’s up, he shoves the sketchbook off his bed.

“Everything okay?” You look up from the other corner of the bed, sitting up.

“I’m just not having a good creation day.” Dalton explains. “Nothing I wanna draw is coming out right, I have this stupid deadline to meet and I can’t even land on a rough sketch because my stupid brain and my stupid hands won’t-“

“Dal.” You cut him off, putting your hand over his. Getting an idea, you sit up further, uncrossing your legs. “Lay down.” Dalton happily obliges, sighing like the weight of the world’s been lifted from his shoulders once he lays his head against your thighs. “Better?” You ask, moving so that your hand is in Dalton’s hair, rubbing his scalp lightly.

Dalton nods against you. “Don’t make me fall asleep.” He warns you, half joking.

“Why, you’re not having nightmares again, are you?”

Dalton pauses.

“Oh, baby-“ You push his hair back from his face, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just thought it’d be too much for you. That I would be too much for you.” Dalton explains.

“If it’s too much for me, it’s definitely too much for you.” You tell him, “let me know about that stuff, okay?”

“I don’t want to burden you.” Dalton objects, you shaking your head. “Thought i’d scare you off.”

“You don’t abandon the people you love when they’re hurting. You stay and shoulder it with them.”

You don’t realize the words that you chose until you say them, looking up into Dalton’s wide blue eyes.

“What?” His voice comes out shaky, uncertain that he heard you correctly. “Do you mean that?”

“That I love you?” You ask. “I do. I love you, Dalton.”

Dalton almost knocks you over with the force he hugs you with, tucking his face into your neck.

“I love you, too.” He pulls back, laughing tearfully. “We’re in love.”

His gaze softens before he leans in, cupping your face like he’s holding something delicate, and kisses you with a passion that almost makes you lightheaded.

When he finally pulls back, your entire body feels like it’s on vibrate. By the way his pupils dilate, you can tell Dalton feels the same.

“What’s on your mind?” You finally ask him.

He leans in again, but moves upwards, kissing your forehead instead of your lips. Then, he moves back down, resting his forehead against yours.

“I wanna do what people in love do.”

“You mean-“ You trail off, Dalton nodding against your head.

“I need you.” Dalton moves his hands down, his arms around you. “Please, baby.”

You lean back in again, kissing him with a passion new to the both of you as he lays you down. He moves to your jaw, kissing it gently before he goes down further, his soft lips trailing down and across your neck. “Dal.” You sigh, hands between his shoulder blades.

He lets out a sweet sound against you, the vibrations making you shiver. “Say my name like that again.” He sucks lightly at your pulse point, drawing his name out of you in a whine. “Sound so pretty.” He pulls back, his hands resting against your stomach, having slid them under your shirt. “Can I?”

You nod almost too quickly, wanting to get the offending garment off before you get too nervous to. Any lingering feelings of anxiety leave your body like a floodgate opening as he takes you in. You’re in an old pair of running shorts and a sports bra, yet he looks at you like you’re the finest piece of art in the world. “Beautiful,” Dalton marvels, smoothing his hands over your chest. “All for me, right?”

You nod, Dalton shaking his head. “Tell me.” His voice is so gentle, you feel your eyes heating up and you try your best to not cry while topless in front of your boyfriend for the first time. “All for you. I’m all yours.”

Dalton smiles, leaning in and kissing your nose before sliding his hands under you, by the clasp of your bra. “Want me to take this off?”

“Please.” You almost whimper, Dalton swallowing thickly as you lean upward. The proximity of your faces isn’t as close as it had been when you were kissing, but you’re close enough to see all the shades of blue in his eyes, the concentration on his face as he works at your bra clasp.

“Hi.” You break the silence, Dalton smiling at you again.

“Hi.” He whispers, finally undoing the clasp. “Got it. Let me just-“ He pulls your bra down your arms, discarding it somewhere in the room.You’re fully bare from the waist up, but don’t feel exposed at all.

Dalton drinks in the sight of your bare chest, sliding his hands up to cup each breast in one. “These are perfect.” Dalton marvels. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples, you arching into him involuntarily.

“Does that feel good?” Dalton asks, not cocky, genuinely curious. You go to nod, but stop yourself, remembering that he likes verbal confirmation. “Yes,” you tell him, “they’re really sensitive.” You admit. “Feels nice when you play with them.” Dalton groans, your praise giving him the motivation he needs to keep going. “Wanna get my mouth on them.” He tells you.

The word “please” is barely out of your mouth before he’s taken one nipple into his mouth, rolling the other between his fingers as he sucks. It sends a pang down between your legs as you moan, loudly, going to put your hand over your mouth. Dalton grabs your wrist, using his surprising strength to keep your hand away from your mouth. “Don’t muffle yourself. Let me hear you.” Dalton tells you, kissing his way across your chest to your other nipple, repeating what he had done before. Your hands find their way to his head instead, pushing his hair away from his face.

“I need more.” You beg. “Please, baby-“

Releasing your nipple with a pop, Dalton scoots down between your legs, tugging your shorts off. He’s about to take off your panties when you stop him.

“Is something wrong? We can stop-“

“No! No, I wanna keep going.” You assure him. “You just still have all your clothes on. Doesen’t seem fair.”

Dalton looks down at his sweatshirt and laughs softly. “You’re right. That’s not fair.” He tugs the shirt over his head. “Here,” He stands up, tugging his pants down and kicking them somewhere on the floor, leaving him clad in his boxers. “We’re even.”

You smile, nodding as he re-situates himself. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and discarding them somewhere with the other clothes.

“Can I taste you?” Your hips almost buck at the way he asks it, the way he looks at you, him, but you settle for a “yes”. He licks an experimental stripe up to your clit, circling it clumsily but still enough to feel good. You moan softly, Dalton taking it as his cue to keep going. He doesn’t really have a technique, as expected—you knew he was a virgin when you two got together, but he’s not doing a bad job, either. You can only imagine how good he’ll get with more practice.

“Am I-?” Dalton pulls away, looking back up at you.

“Try sucking on my clit, just a little. Not too hard.” Dalton nods, licking back up to your clit and sucking, like you told him to.

“Oh my God.” You moan, Dalton sucking at your clit again, anything to get you to make that sound again.

“Need your fingers.” You whimper, “Please, wanna feel them inside—oh!” Dalton easily slides one in, moaning against you at the feeling of you around his finger. “One more, please-“He slides another one in, stretching you open as he licks around and on your clit. He pulls away, his fingers still inside you as he looks up at you.

“Do you like it like this?” He slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, gaging your reaction.

“Yeah—curl them up a bit, like,” you make a “come here” movement with your fingers. Dalton mimics you, pumping his fingers the slightest bit faster as he curls them. “Wanna kiss you when you cum—“ he tells you.

“Then get back up here and kiss me.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice, speeding up his motions as he moves back up to kiss you. You two separate with moans and gasps, surprised your teeth aren’t clashing with the way he’s kissing you. You can already feel the coil tightening as he fingers you, but when he moves his thumb up to circle your clit, you go over the edge, tucking your face into his neck as you come undone.

“Holy shit,” Dalton pants, “I made you cum.”

You nod, smiling, dazed after the intensity of your orgasm. “I did, hard.” Dalton laughs, pulling his fingers out of you slowly. Before he can do anything with them, you take his hand, guiding his fingers to your mouth and sucking them gently. Dalton watches you, mesmerized at the way your cheeks hollow, the feeling of your tongue on his fingers.

“I need to fuck you.” Dalton pulls his fingers out of your mouth, “Shit, condom. Uh-“

“You can pull out.” You assure him. “I’m on the pill, anyway.” Dalton almost passes out at the idea of being inside you bare, but manages to stay upright. “Is this position-“

“Dalton?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s perfect.” You cut him off. “Like you.”

Dalton smiles, lining himself up with you. “Wait.” Before you can ask what’s wrong, Dalton takes one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together and holding them down on the bed. The intimacy of the gesture makes your eyes well up again. You don’t miss the way Dalton’s face falls, and before he can ask, you tell him the truth.

“That was just sweet—I just really, really love you.” You admit. Dalton kisses your forehead once more, pushing in with his lips still against your skin.

You both moan together as Dalton pulls back out, then plunges all the way in again. He keeps at the slow pace for a little bit, you getting more exasperated. “You can go faster.” You tell him, assuming he’d been afraid to hurt you.

“I know.” Dalton smiles cheekily, “Just wanted to tease you. Make you beg for it.”

You gasp at his dirty talk and newfound cockiness, tossing your pride aside and giving in. “Please, Dalton, please fuck me harder, I need it so bad-“

Dalton moans, giving in and speeding up his thrusts, grabbing onto the mattress with his free hand, balling up the bedding as he pounds you.

“Feels so fucking good, beautiful-“ Dalton ducks his head down, kissing your neck as his thrusts speed up, “-‘m not gonna last—“

“Let go.” You encourage him, “I came already, just let go—“

It’s as if his body was waiting for those words to finally let go, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He weakly thrusts his way through it, pumping you full as he cums.

“Fuck, baby.” Dalton breathes out shakily, kissing your neck softly before pulling away to look at you. “Came so hard, don’t know if I can walk.”

“Then don’t.” You offer. “Just lay with me.”

Dalton nods, smiling softly as he pulls out, laying next to you and pulling the comforter over the two of you.

“We should probably clean up soon, though.” You tell him. “Don’t wanna traumatize Chris.”

Dalton laughs, “We don’t have to worry about Chris. I paid her 10 bucks to crash in a friend’s room.”

“You planned this?” You ask, feigning offense.

“I planned the seduction, not you telling me you loved me.” He defends himself. “Like i’d only fuck you once in a night.”

“You didn’t know how it would go!”

“I knew I wouldn’t be done with you yet.”

You smile, nuzzling your head into his chest. “I wanna do all of that and more, but for right now I just wanna use you as a pillow for a little bit.”

“You want a hoodie?” Dalton offers. “We could watch a movie for a little bit. Don’t want you getting cold.”

You smile, nodding. “Always taking care of me.”

Dalton shakes his head, getting up and pulling on his boxers to find you a hoodie of his.

“Not as good as you take care of me, baby.”

[angelsnkisses]

Study Break - Dalton Lambert x fem!reader <3

💟 nsfw - mdni 💟

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 :).

warnings: softdom!dalton, sub!fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

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)

[crazyk-imagine]

The Dice man's Granddaughter Headcann

A/N: This one is super long, but I couldn't stop adding shit lol. Enjoy it while you can folks

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- Your dad had you later in life, so he wasn't around as much but still present enough for you to say you had a good childhood with him

- Your dad didn't talk much about your grandfather that much when you were with him

- It seems your mother knew more about him than your own father (his own son)

- He didn't like talking about his dad

- All you could know was if he wasn't home, he was with some lady named Elise who was supposedly helping people, he never told you what though

- Your mother let him come over to the house almost every time you were home after their divorce was finalized

- You inherited your grandfather's power (and then some), only finding out when you were a child, and he was cleaning his stuff (things you've only heard in his stories)

- You didn't realize what they were or what could happen until he came back into the dining room and found you asking questions

- He quickly called your mom (who started freaking out)

- Over time he showed you how to control it and understand, build a bond with whoever you need to make a contact (living and not)

- He does all he can to teach you how to decipher between good and evil spirits (even if he does mistake the difference himself)

- You find yourself at the Lambert's home when your grandfather is called there and your parents are busy working so no one other than him can watch you

- He sends you with Dalton and Foster to make sure you're away from the madness and to make sure you can't get hurt

- You pull out the dice a few hours after being with the brothers sensing something wrong

- Neither notice what you're doing because Dalton's drawing and Foster is fiddling with the radio

- You contacted your grandfather and Josh only to find trouble ahead

- As soon as the babysitter dropped you guys off, you grabbed the two and kept them behind you knowing you'd need to protect them

- All four of you ran downstairs into the basement and you threw a random object in the opposite direction so the man possessing their dad would leave in another direction

- It didn't work, and you almost got grabbed until you threw your bag at him and ran after the family

- Renai pulls you in and closes the door, keeping her kids together

- You keep your eye on the door, doing all you can to not freak out (concerning their mother)

- Dalton offers to go to the dark place

"Don't do that."

He turns to you, "I need to find my dad."

"I have my dice."

"How is that going to help?" Renai asks, doing all she can to keep herself together.

"I can help him and your husband. I know what to do. It’s how I know that man is an entity in your husband."

- She hides her second eldest and comes back to you

- You make sure she worries about herself and the kids while you stay behind the shelf, ready to come out if necessary

“You better come back, kid.”

He stares at you for a few seconds and falls asleep.

- You held his head and tried all you could to demand the killer out of him, holding him long enough for Dalton and Josh to return to their bodies

- The father looks around the room and spots you

"Your Carl's granddaughter?"

You owlishly blink and shrug, "yeah."

"He- he's a really go- great man."

You smirk, "I know."

- You stayed in the room when your grandpa wiped away the memories of everything that had happened

- Not only because you felt it was necessary but also because Dalton asked you to stay

- You, Renai, Lorraine, and your grandfather talked amongst each other as time went on (you were the one to keep in touch with the women more than your grandfather)

- Things were tense when your parents passed, your grandfather being beside himself and distancing himself from Lorraine when you were in your late teens there were less calls from him as time went on

- Dalton was the one to keep your sane during this time, even offering a drawing of your family before the divorce happened (it was sweet and made you feel better)

- His mom and grandmother hoped the two of you would figure out your feelings because you were good for one another

- And you knew what to do if it happened again (which brought Renai slight peace of mind when he started applying for college)

- Josh wasn't as hopeful, he was a bit wary when it came to you and could never figure out why

- You were the first person to hear about the school he wanted to try and get into and the first to be told when he got accepted (which you had also been conveniently accepted)

- Then came his grandmother’s death and slowly it began all over again

- At the funeral you saw her leaving and had a feeling something was beginning but returned your focus when Dalton read the poem

- Then came the very awkward drive to school (which Dalton forced you into without informing his dad but his mom knew)

- You made conversation with Josh, even though he was not a fan of you he enjoyed the conversation

- Dalton got some texts about his behavior throughout the whole ride (he enjoyed that)

- Chris was a delight, you loved her energy and hoped to see her again

- You approved of Dalton’s outfit once him and his dad had words and Josh left

- Then things get weird when you all go to the frat party

- Christ left you two alone and you were in the idiot frat dude’s room

You see the ways his eyes move and know he’s seeing something… you see him too. “You want to leave?”

He shakes his head, turning towards you, “no, no. I’m good.”

Then you guys hear him and quickly aim for the bed, being dragged, and pushed under by him.

You roll your eyes at the douche’s voice, talking to himself, thinking he can get the girl.

As soon as he’s out of the room. Dalton freaks and you hear it, you crawl out from under the bed and place your hand on the former student’s head while your friend is still freaking out.

You yank him out from under the bed and hear people trying to get in, you grab him and kiss him; putting on an act once you notice the frat dude and leave a friendly reminder.

- You were the only one who believed him when he talked about it, even advised that he stop going back

- Then came the research, you directed Chris in the right direction and even told her specific book titles but most definitely did not tell her about the odd balls Specs and Tucker

- You cringed when you saw them which did not get past the two

- You almost lost it when that thing came for Chris and almost you

- You kept a close eye on Chris, making sure she made it back to her dorm before trying to make it back to Dalton

- You called his phone a million times as you sprint across campus when the sense of dread fills your stomach (something you immediately regret but can’t stop)

- You bust through the door just before he falls asleep

“Dalton? Dalton?” You move closer and find the painting finished, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jesus. I knew that was going to haunt you but did anyone listen. No.” You stare at him, shaking his shoulders. “Come on.”

- The dice. Your dice.

You jump on the bed just as the lights go out, an image of a candle flashes through your mind. You groan, holding your head. You open the container, roll the dice in your hands before blowing on them and tossing them on the bed, calling out for him.

- Your other bestie bursts through the door with a handful of lights

She sees the dice. “I have questions, but I don’t think it’s important to ask now.”

- When Dalton said he wasn't afraid of the dark you knew instantly something was seriously wrong

 - You nearly cried when you saw his face changing and gripped your dice tightly, half tempted to make a connection but know it's a very bad and extremely stupid idea

 - Chris is flung onto her former bed and your left to deal with him

 - His eyes roll back into his head, and you reach for him, laying him down on the floor leaving Chris to take care of everything

 - You two freak out while the sprits are crawling closer and closer

 - You try and banish them, but nothing works

 - Then he wakes, and you guys check on his dad and everything is okay

“You came back, kid.” You hug him as tightly as you can.

 - None of you go to bed or leave the room that night

 - Thankfully break was coming up soon and you two leave for the Lambert household while Chris goes home to her grandma (facetiming you every few hours)

 - Josh came to terms with you and accepted you (now that he can remember) and he knows you two have each other's backs

 - Renai invited your grandpa and dinner was great

 - A minor Dalton astro projecting moment and you bringing him back later and your sleep was kind of okay

 - It was time for you three to go back to school and even that was interesting because, Nick, got in trouble for throwing a party when he tried to report you

 - If only he knew who the favored professor was to you

 - Carl stayed on campus for a while in case something else happened which you three were thankful for

 - Renai was surprised when she heard that Carl was teaching at the school, she never suspected he would be a professor

- They even try to rope Josh into becoming a professor, but it doesn’t work

[yeonjuns-beanie]

A Dangerous Consummation

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.

“Yeah, y/n. We’re gonna be okay.”

[darling-i-read-it]

Frat Party

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: borderline smut, basically just tension and making out for the whole fic lol, Chris cockblocking them smh

Author’s Note: I wrote this so quickly something possessed me and it just poured out i need to make out with him immediately 

Requested: by anon, abt y/n and dalton having ‘fun’- probably in the closet 🫢🫢 heavy make out and ykkk pleasure 😞🙏🏻 then someone open the broom closet 😟😟 such a cockblocker

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“Do you remember the last time I went to a frat party,” Dalton asked, head tilted up to look at Chris. She looked down at him, pursing her lips in annoyance. 

“That was literally months ago and since then you haven’t seen a dead person once.” 

“She has a point,” you offered. You were sitting on Dalton’s desk, trying to peer pressure him into going to a stupid party. He had been far too cautious since his incident and it was about time he started to go out more. Chris found a flier laying around and declared that the three of you were going to go even if she had to drag you guys there. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“I am on your side,” you said. “This is your side. You just don’t know it yet.” He rolled his eyes and looked between the two of you. He had never been sure how he ended up friends with the two of you. Usually he was grateful for it, knowing he wasn’t alone out here. Moments like these he wondered how worth it was, even when he glanced at you and his eyes lingered a little longer than they should have. You met his gaze, trying not to blush under it. Chris pretended not to notice your acts of persuasion. “C’mon D,” you pleaded. You sat up all the way and leaned forward to him. He was looking up at you, something he could get used to. 

“Fine.” 

“Yes!” “Sweet!” 

You hopped off the desk and offered him your hand to help him up. He took it without a second thought. The weight of his hand was relaxing and familiar. You briefly thought about how you wished you could remain holding his hand forever. 

“I’ll come get you guys at 8 alright?” Chris asked. You nodded. She backed away to the door, bringing two fingers to her eyes and then flipped them back around towards you. “Be ready or I’ll leave without you.” “Please do,” Dalton pleaded. 

“You’re stuck going,” she promised. She opened up the door, calling about something she had to do before you left. You turned to Dalton, a smile plastered on your face. It was a goofy one, half to taunt him, half to have a reason to smile at him. 

“It’ll be fun,” you promised. 

“If you say so.” -

It was loud before you even went in. Greek Row had a line of houses that all seemed too large to be real and too old to be nice. You could immediately tell which one was having a party from a distance. There were people hanging out on the curb, drinking beer, watching the stars, dancing in the grass and doing other weird things. Dalton scooted closer to you, trying not to show his disinterest. 

You nudged him. 

“Lighten up,” you said. 

“I’m trying,” he promised. You approached the door, slipping through the people making out on the porch. Once you got inside it was like a whole other world had opened up. There were people everywhere, against walls, chugging drinks, dancing against each other. The music was so loud you could hardly see yourself think. Dalton put a hesitant hand to one ear, clearly trying to get used to the overstimulation. 

“I’m gonna go upstairs and be nosy!” Chris called over the music. “Either of you want to come?” 

“I want a drink!” you yelled. She nodded.

“Dalton?” 

��I’ll go with her!” Even though you were practically screaming at each other, it was hard to hear. Chris saluted you both before snaking through the crowd to the stairs. 

You didn’t recognize anyone around. It was kind of humbling, realizing how big the school actually was. Dalton was walking close behind you as you made it to a table with snacks. You grabbed a solo cup and poured yourself some of the red liquid, not entirely sure what was in it. 

“You want some?!”

“You drink it first!” You rolled your eyes and took a sip. It was foul but not bad enough to make a face. You offered him a drink of yours, which he took. He made a disgusted face, shaking his head as he tried to rid himself of the flavor. You giggled, taking back your cup. 

“Want one?!”  He paused, swallowing hard. There were so many people that you were pressed against the table and practically against each other. 

“Sure?!” You nodded once, a bright smile on your face. You poured him some and handed it over. You grabbed his arm and weaved him through the crowd so you wouldn’t lose him. You ran into people dancing, narrowly avoiding the people making out on the stairs. 

Once you got further away from the living room you were able to hear yourself think a little bit more. Dalton was drinking quickly, despite his looks of distaste. You took a large swig to catch up to him. 

“Wanna dance?!” you asked. His eyes went wide as he took a large swallow. The scrunched face of disgust went over his face and then it was even again. He looked towards the crowd of people dancing, men's hands on girls hips, bodies pressed together. Just the thought of it made him blush furiously. “D?!” 

“Yeah!” He put down his cup, forgetting about it immediately. This time he grabbed your hand and led you back into the crowd. He didn’t like it but he forced himself to be in the middle so that less people paid attention to him. There was awful music playing but it had an aggressive base that was rocking the floors. You tossed your drink away far too early into a garbage can and started to dance to the music. Dalton wondered if he should put his hands on your sides as you started to move along to the music, looking too intoxicating for his already intoxicated mind. 

“C’mon D!” you yelled. You put your hands on his sides, moving him back and forth. He tried not to gasp at your hands. Instead he just put his palms on your hips as well, evening out the playing field. His grip was fiery and incredibly distracting. You were moving him but you weren’t thinking about it anymore. You were thinking about him and you were pulling him closer to you and your chests were flush. You looked him in the eye, not breaking eye contact. It felt like you were playing a game of who would break first. Your breathing was becoming ragged. Was it smokey in here? 

Your hands moved up towards his neck. You put your arms on his shoulders. His lips parted. Your torsos were fused together at this point and he was making every effort to hold you even closer to him. Everyone else seemed like a blur. 

You lifted your hand up a bit and then placed it on his neck. He would’ve flushed if he wasn’t knee deep in the moment. Your fingers were cool against his bare skin. 

“Dalton,” you said, voice too quiet for him to hear but he recognized the way your lips said his name. 

“Yeah?” 

You leaned forward, kissing him without thinking. His lips parted, breathing in the air you were giving him. He had never felt so euphoric. It briefly crossed his mind that this is what college was for. To make out with the girl he loved in the middle of a room after drinking something was probably too strong. Your hand went to his hair, tangling in his knots. 

“C’mon,” you whispered and he only caught it because his face was now so close to yours. Your hand was in his. You had never been in this house before but you were determined now, body on fire. His other hand found your hip. You ran up the stairs. People were staggering around but your mind was now occupied. You tried a door but it was locked. Dalton put both of his hands on your sides behind you. You were a girl on a mission now. 

You tried the next door. Locked. 

You tried the next one. It opened with a gentle nudge. It was a bathroom, clearly someone’s private one. There was a door attached to it on the side, probably to a bedroom. You grabbed Dalton’s hand off your side and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut. 

It was so tight that you were barely able to both get in there. A walk-in shower was shoved in the corner and a sink was beside it, a toilet on the other side. The sink was just barely jutting out of the wall yet you still managed to hoist yourself up to it. You grabbed Dalton, who was far too happy to oblige, and smashed his lips against yours. 

All of the tension that had been living within the two of you seemed to fuel the moment. He parted your legs with his hand so he could stand between them. His boldness only turned you on more. You wrapped a leg around his, both of his hands on your sides, gently hiking up your shirt so he could touch your bare skin. 

Your brain was muddled. There was nothing in the world anymore except Dalton and his lips and his hair and his body against yours, hot, flush, more toned than you would’ve thought. His lips left yours to trail down your neck. You moaned, which made him visibly react. 

Dalton had never felt better, he was convinced. He could live in this bathroom with you forever and never grow unhappy. You put the back of your head against the mirror. Though your torso moved back he didn’t let it stop him from being pressed against you. 

Right then, you would’ve done anything he asked. You were all too happy to melt down to your knees. In fact, you were thinking about it as his lips nipped your collar bone. You let out a sharp breath and was about to push him backwards so you could sink off the counter when the adjoining door flew open. 

You both jumped, suddenly broken out of the moment. Even though he was startled, his hands didn’t leave your side, he just backed up a bit. 

Chris stood in the doorway, her mouth open wide. Then she started to laugh. A hearty laughter, mixed with genuine surprise. 

“Sorry to interrupt!” You grabbed a towel that was on the rack and threw it at her. She dodged it. 

“We’re in the middle of something Chris,” Dalton said, voice dangerously low and borderline seductive. You glanced at him, chest still heaving. 

“I can tell. Maybe next time you guys should lock the doors. Anyone could walk in.” 

“Duly noted,” he said. You gestured for her to leave. She stayed put. 

“This must be much better than what happened in the bathroom at the last party you went to Dalton.” He rolled his eyes, not even able to bring himself to care. It crossed your mind to just go back to the dorms so you wouldn’t have to deal with interruptions. It felt so far away. You had only been here 20 minutes but it now felt like 20 minutes too long. 

Your hand was still lazily hanging off Dalton’s shoulder. 

“This door doesn’t lock,” she said, twisting it. 

“Alright,” you said. 

“You wanna give someone a free show?” Your knees hurt. Hurt wasn’t exactly the right word. Your knees ached. 

“Chris,” you said. 

“I’m warning you. Anything anyone sees could be recorded.” You pushed yourself off the counter. Dalton stumbled back. You grabbed his hand. 

“We’re going back to the dorms.” 

“We just got here!” she exclaimed. 

“Dorms,” you said. She laughed a bit, lips parted in pleasant surprise. 

“Yes ma’am. I’ll see you guys back there.” You pushed past her. 

“Knock when you get there!” Dalton called as you dragged him back down the stairs. Chris rolled her eyes. The things on the counter had been shoved to the ground, toothpaste in the sink, towel on the ground. 

“Damn guys.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Make the Wall

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader | fluff | 0.8k+ words (blurb)

A/N: I found another forgotten Dalton blurb. I hope you enjoy!

“Stop fidgeting,” Dalton commands, not looking up from his sketch pad.

“You’re making me nervous,” you respond.

Dalton stills his pencil, glancing up at you. He cocks his head to the side and focuses on your eyes.

“You’re enjoying this a little too much.” You look away from him as his gaze intensifies.

“So, what if I am? You agreed to let me draw you,” Dalton argues with a smile.

You groan and fall over onto his bed, hiding your face in your folded arms.

“I can’t draw you if I can’t see you.”

“Then draw something else.”

“No other models as pretty as you,” Dalton says as he nudges your arms out of the way to see your face.

“Shut up,” you mumble. Dalton smiles and you don’t give him a chance to respond before you add, “If you tell me to make you I will punch you into Chris’ room.”

“You wound me. I just want to draw and you’re depriving me. I think, whoa, I think I feel faint,” he exclaims, raising a hand to his forehead.

“Dalton, don’t!”

You try to move out of the way but are too slow. Dalton lands on top of you, his arms holding yours to your side as his face is directly in front of yours.

“You don’t have to draw me now. You can just hold up the flat piece of paper, now that you’ve crushed me,” you tease, leaning your head forward to brush your nose with his.

“I love you,” he says.

“Got a weird way of showing it, Lambert.”

“But it’s my way, Lambert.”

“What?”

Dalton shrugs and raises his hands to cup your face, holding himself up on his elbows. “Figure we’ll get married sooner rather than later, might as well start now.”

“Shut up,” you repeat, much quieter now.

“Make-“

You cut Dalton off with a kiss, holding the sides of his shirt in your hands as he reciprocates your movements. When you remember what he said, you push him away and smile at the furrow between his brows.

“I love you.”

Dalton smiles and stands up, pulling you with him.

“I need to go buy a new sketchbook, wanna come?”

“Didn’t you just get that one?” you ask, pointing to the one he bought just a few weeks before.

“It’s full,” he answers, grabbing his phone and a jacket.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

You open the sketchbook and see a drawing of you, then flip through and see dozens more.

“Dalton, what are all these?”

He takes the book from your hands and sets it on his desk. His hands raise to hold your jaw and he kisses your forehead before speaking.

“You’re right. We should get the biggest canvas we can find so I can put the next one on the wall.”

You lean your head forward and groan into his chest.

“You’re so in love with me it’s sickening,” you say as you wrap your arms around him.

“Right back at you.”

You step back as Dalton flips his sketchbook to his most page. He sets it on his desk, where he had been working to draw you, and takes a seat.

“You have an empty spot,” you point out as you lay on Dalton’s bed.

“What?” he asks, looking up from his art project before he can focus on it again.

“Right there.” You point to a spot on his wall that doesn’t have any artwork on it.

Dalton nods and puts his pencils away, then wipes his hands as he stands and moves beside the bed. He smiles down at you then looks up at the wall.

“I think I have just the thing.”

You watch as he flips through his sketchbook before removing a page. He stands on his bed, careful not to step on you, and attaches it to the wall with glue dots. Once secured, he drops to his knees and lays down beside you, slipping his arm under your head and encouraging you to move closer. You move to place your head on his chest and get a better look at the new drawing.

“Dalton,” you gasp as you sit up.

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling as he watches you.

“You drew me?”

“Several times. That one’s my favorite though.”

You remember the day; you had saved him from an afternoon of socializing with Chris and ended up sitting in a park for hours.

“When did you do that?”

“That night, after I came back. I just couldn’t get you out of my head.”

You smile and lay on top of Dalton, hugging him tightly. He wraps his arms around you, leaning his head against yours.

“Hey, I made the wall!” you say excitedly, sitting up again to look at Dalton.

“You could be the entire wall with how many sketches of you are over there.” Dalton smiles and brushes his hand along your cheek.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Drawing me. Loving me.”

“I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

You lean forward and kiss Dalton, letting your actions tell him that you feel the same.

[bodieohbo]

OKAY! another poll for the dalton fic bc i cant think of any ideas (please give me ideas im having major block)

[doormatty3]

Set Nerves (Patrick Wilson x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary

[Patrick Wilson x Female Reader] [Patrick Wilson x You] Acting has always been your passion, but the leap from a small indie film to a big Hollywood production is overwhelming—the set, the people, the intimate scenes. You’ve never even kissed someone on screen, let alone acted out a sex scene. Luckily, your co-star Patrick, with his striking blue eyes and kind smile, has agreed to help you. And how could you possibly refuse when his promise of a home-cooked meal and practise ignites a fire in you that feels like more? OR: How intimate scenes do not work in Hollywood 101

Wordcount: 10,895

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, fluff, smut, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, flirting, cunnilingus

A/N: The main idea from this stems from a dream I had… make of that what you will

You arrive on set and you don’t think you’ve ever been so nervous in your life.  

This isn’t your first film gig - far from it - but you’ve mostly been in indie movies with small casts, small sets, and small expectations. 

But this? This is Hollywood. And you’re fucking terrified.

When your agent called to tell you about the movie, you were overjoyed. But that joy quickly morphed into fear when you read the script. It’s a pretty standard action thriller, but you’re cast as the female lead - the one who shares romantic scenes with the male lead, Patrick Wilson. 

You’ve never even kissed someone on camera, let alone acted out a sex scene. So, you can only hope Patrick is cool and will help you through it and not be annoyed at the mistakes you will definitely make.

As you walk through the bustling set, you see people everywhere, buzzing around and busy. You scan the area for the director and main crew and spot them in a huddle, engaged in deep conversation.

You don’t know most of the people but among them is a very handsome man standing with his back to you. 

He’s tall, with a muscular, broad back that strains the jacket he’s wearing. His short brown hair curls around his ears and the nape of his neck. 

When he turns, you catch his side profile - a straight nose, prominent brows, and plump, pink lips curled into a smile as he laughs. Mesmerised, you trail your eyes over his face, taking notice of how the skin around his eyes crinkles when he laughs and how he throws his head back.

You snap out of your reverie and make your way to them.

The director spots you and waves you over, breaking into a welcoming smile.

"Ah, there she is! Everyone, this is our leading lady," he announces. "And this," he gestures to the handsome man you noticed earlier, "is Patrick Wilson."

Patrick turns fully towards you, and your breath catches in your throat. 

Up close, he’s even more attractive than you initially thought - tall and broad, with a magnetic presence. His eyes, a striking hue of blue, seem to sparkle with an inner light, and his smile is warm and genuine, radiating kindness. There is an inexplicable charm about him, something that reminds you of the serene morning breeze over calm water. 

Now you notice the salt-and-pepper stubble that adorns his face, adding a scruffy, rugged charm to his already captivating appearance. His effortlessly confident yet inviting demeanour draws you in, making it hard to look away.

"Nice to meet you," Patrick says, extending his hand. "I’ve heard great things about you."

You shake his hand, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grip. 

"Nice to meet you too, Patrick," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach. 

As you clasp his hand, you marvel at the way it envelops yours completely. The nails are carefully trimmed, and his fingers are thick and strong, yet his touch is gentle and warm. 

The moment lingers longer than you expect, and you can’t help but notice the subtle roughness of his skin. The sensation of his hand in yours, combined with his striking presence, leaves you slightly breathless. You find yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his blue eyes, which seem to hold you captive. 

You are rudely snapped out of your reverie when the director and crew are called away, leaving you and Patrick standing alone amidst the set.

Patrick entirely turns to you, stepping a bit closer, his smile softening into one of genuine concern. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice gentle. "You seem a bit nervous."

You let out a shy laugh, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Is it that obvious?"

"A little," he admits with a chuckle, the soft smile still etched onto his face. "But it’s completely normal. First days are always a bit overwhelming, especially on a big set like this."

As he speaks, he places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeps through your clothes and resonates deep within you as you feel the strength and comfort he offers. You also catch a whiff of his cologne, a subtle, intoxicating scent that makes your head swim slightly.

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks. It’s just... this is all so new to me. I’ve never done anything on this scale before."

Patrick nods, his expression understanding. "Don’t worry. We’ll take it one step at a time. If you need anything or have any questions, just let me know. We’re in this together.

His reassuring words and kind demeanour, combined with the physical contact, send a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

"Thanks, Patrick. That means a lot," you say, looking into his blue eyes and feeling a spark between you.

He smiles again, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment longer before he lets go. "We’ve got this," he says confidently, and you can’t help but believe him.

Patrick’s eyes sparkle with kindness, and his smile is dazzling and warm. He’s easy to talk to, his laughter infectious, and before long, you feel the initial tension begin to dissolve.

As you talk, you notice how the light catches the wispy locks of hair around his ear, casting a golden halo that accentuates his strong jawline.

At some point, he tilts his head slightly and asks, "Hey," his voice soft, and his eyes trail onto yours, "I was thinking... if you’re still feeling nervous, maybe you could come over to my place this evening? We can go over the script together and maybe have some food. I think it might help put you more at ease if we talked about it a bit."

You feel your heart skip a beat, the invitation both exciting and nerve-wracking. But the way he looks at you, so earnest and handsome, with his eyes gleaming under the set lights, makes it hard to say anything but yes.

His sincerity is disarming, and the idea of spending more time with him is unexpectedly appealing. "Really?" you say, your voice betraying a mix of surprise and eagerness.

"Yeah," he replies, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. He tilts his head, and the light catches in his eyes, making them glow like sapphires. "It’ll be good to get comfortable with each other off-set. Plus, I make a mean pasta," he adds with a playful grin, his lips curving in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

"That sounds great," you say, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "I’d like that."

Patrick’s smile widens, and for a moment, the chaotic set fades into the background. "Perfect. I’ll text you the address. See you at seven?"

"Seven it is," you agree, already feeling a little more confident about the days ahead. The thought of spending the evening with him, getting to know him better, brings a warmth that eases your earlier anxieties.

_____

You arrive at Patrick’s place at seven, taking a deep breath before stepping out of your car. You didn’t really dress up, knowing that this was meant to be a professional meeting. Still, you opted for a sweater and pants that accentuate your figure and make you feel good about yourself.

Your nerves spike as you ring the doorbell. Moments later, the door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat once more - he seems to have that effect on you.

Patrick stands before you in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. The shirt clings deliciously to his defined biceps, and you can’t help but admire how the fabric stretches across his chest. His blue eyes are striking in the soft light of his house, and his hair is combed back, looking soft and touchable.

"Hey," he greets you with a friendly smile, the same genuine warmth you’ve grown accustomed to. "Come on in."

Before you can say anything, he pulls you into a hug. You melt into his embrace as his strong body envelops you, and you’re engulfed in his intoxicating scent, a mix of cologne and something distinctly him. It’s a brief moment that leaves you feeling both comforted and slightly flustered.

"I made carbonara. I hope that’s okay, " he says, releasing you gently, and you find yourself missing his warmth instantly. 

"That sounds perfect," you say, your voice steadier now. As you follow him inside, you notice the dining table already set with plates and a bottle of wine. The soft lighting casts a cosy glow, making the scene feel unexpectedly intimate.

"Wow, you went all out," you say, smiling at him.

"I wanted to make sure we had a comfortable setting to go over the script," he replies, his eyes twinkling. "Plus, I enjoy cooking. I hope you’re hungry."

"Starving," you admit, feeling more at ease with every passing moment.

He pulls out a chair for you, and you sit down, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "This looks amazing," you say, glancing at the beautifully prepared meal.

Patrick sits across from you, pouring the wine. "Let’s eat first, and then we can dive into the script," he suggests. As he hands you a glass, his fingers brush against yours, sending a spark of electricity through you.

You clink glasses, his smile reassuring you as the evening begins, and you start to feel that maybe, just maybe , this will be a night to remember for all the right reasons.

_____

The conversation flows easily as you sit across from each other, the aroma of the pasta mingling with the rich scent of the wine. You take a bite, savouring the flavours.

"This is amazing, Patrick," you say, genuinely impressed. "You weren’t kidding about being a good cook."

"Thanks," he grins, a boyish charm lighting up his face. "Glad you like it. Cooking is a bit of a hobby of mine."

As the meal progresses, you feel the pleasant buzz from the wine, making you more relaxed. 

Eventually, the conversation shifts to the script. You go over a few scenes, discussing your characters and their dynamics.

Patrick leans back in his chair, swirling his wine. "I remember the first time I had to kiss someone in a movie," he says, his eyes twinkling with the memory.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping across your face. You look down at your glass, feeling a bit self-conscious. "I’ve never done it," you admit quietly.

Patrick’s expression softens, and he reaches across the table to gently touch your hand; the contact sends a shiver through you. 

"Hey, don’t worry about it," he says reassuringly. "It’s completely normal to be nervous. The first time, I was a wreck . But it’s all about trust and making sure both of us are comfortable."

You look up at him, appreciating his understanding. "It’s just... a bit intimidating," you confess.

He nods, giving your hand a comforting squeeze before letting go. "I get it. But we’ll take it slow, okay? If there’s anything you need or any way I can help, just let me know."

"I don’t even know the difference between a real kiss and a movie kiss," you confess, feeling a bit embarrassed. "How do you make it look real without it being, well, real ?"

He leans forward, his eyes locking onto yours, sincere and kind. "A movie kiss is all about angles and chemistry. It’s not as intimate as it looks. You’re thinking about the camera, the lighting, hitting your marks. It’s more technical than passionate."

"I can’t imagine it," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It just baffles me for some reason…"

Patrick’s smile is gentle as he continues. "It’s a unique experience for sure, especially if it’s your first time. But trust me, once you’re in the moment, it becomes about the scene and the characters. We’ll take it slow, I promise."

His words soothe you, and you nod, feeling more at ease. "Thanks, Patrick."

"We’ll get through it together," he promises, his eyes twinkling with reassurance. There’s a brief pause before he takes a deep breath, his gaze flickering to your lips for a moment so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it, "I could show you if you want to"

You’re taken aback by the suggestion, your heart skipping a beat. " Show ..me?" you ask, a bit puzzled. 

A part of you hopes he means that he could demonstrate a kiss, and unconsciously, your eyes flicker to his lips, thinking about how kissable they look. You wonder how it would feel, the brush of his stubble against your skin, the taste of his lips. The thought sends a tingling sensation through you, and you quickly avert your gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed by your wandering thoughts.

You reach for the wine glass to take a sip and compose yourself.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," he says sincerely. "I just thought it might help to visualise it…."

His consideration for your feelings warms your heart. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse. "No, I think... I think it would actually help," you admit quietly, your heart beating quickly in your chest.

"Okay," Patrick says softly, his smile turning encouraging. "Just relax. It’s just acting."

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Patrick leans in slowly, his movements deliberate and gentle. You feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek as he inches closer, his lips brushing against yours with feather-light pressure.

For a fleeting moment, the world around you fades into the background. You focus on the sensation of his lips, soft and warm, against yours. It’s brief but enough to send a jolt of electricity through you, sparking a rush of emotions you hadn’t expected. Your hands come to rest on his arms.

Patrick pulls back slightly, his intense blue eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath mingling with yours.

You nod, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah…" Your voice trails off as you feel the tingling sensation where his lips had just been. Your gaze instinctively wanders down to his lips again, noticing how inviting they look.

Feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, you trace them softly over the curve of his biceps, a small shiver running through you. "I wanted... I wanted to get a feel for it, you know? Practise ."

His gaze softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a comforting gesture. "I’m glad I could help," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours again in a soft kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, savouring the tender sensation. Before you can fully process the moment, Patrick kisses you again - deeply and passionately this time. His hands find their way into your hair, gently pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. 

Patrick’s lips are warm and inviting, moving against yours with a tender rhythm. You feel the stubble on his jaw grazing your skin, a gentle contrast to the smoothness of his lips. It’s a sensation that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, igniting a spark of desire in your veins, a dull ache that’s spreading through you.

The taste of pasta and wine lingers on your tongue as you kiss him, mixing with the heady scent of Patrick’s cologne - clean, masculine. The world around you fades into insignificance as you lose yourself in the intoxicating feeling of his lips moving against yours.

You kiss him back, your hands instinctively finding their place on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the firmness of his muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt. 

When Patrick finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you both are left breathless and wanting more. His eyes search yours, silently asking for consent and understanding in this uncharted territory.

"Was that okay?" he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and concern.

You nod slowly, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah," you whisper, licking your lips, savouring the lingering taste. "That was... enlightening ."

Patrick’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. He pulls back to take a sip of his wine, his gaze never leaving yours. You follow suit, taking a sip to steady your racing heart.

"See? Nothing to be afraid of," he says gently, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

You chuckle softly, feeling a wave of relief and confidence wash over you. "You’re right. Thank you for this... it really helps."

He reaches out, placing his hand over yours on the table. "I’m glad," he smiles, his touch warm and reassuring. "And if you ever need more practice..." His voice trails off, leaving the offer hanging in the air, charged with unspoken possibilities.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Are you saying you’ll practice movie kisses with me more often?"

Patrick chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Only if you want to. I mean, it’s for the sake of authenticity, right?"

"Of course," you reply, your voice teasing as you take another sip of wine. "All in the name of professionalism."

"Exactly," he agrees, his smile widening. "And if it happens to be enjoyable, well, that’s just a bonus."

As you sit there, savouring the moment and the connection you’ve just shared, you start to feel the buzz of the wine more intensely. It makes you bolder, your inhibitions melting away with each passing minute. You take another sip, your eyes lingering on Patrick, noting once more how the white shirt clings to his defined biceps and how his blue eyes sparkle in the dim light.

"So," you say, your voice carrying a playful edge, "do you practice movie kisses with all your co-stars?"

Patrick’s cheeks flush a charming shade of pink, and he looks down, a shy smile playing on his lips. "No, actually," he replies, his voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and sincerity. "You’re the exception."

You find his blush adorable, a stark contrast to the confident man you’ve seen before. His vulnerability in this moment only makes him more attractive. You can’t help but notice how the light catches the wisps of hair around his ear, making him look even more handsome.

"Really?" you ask, leaning in slightly, your curiosity piqued. "Why me?"

Patrick meets your gaze, his eyes intense and sincere. "Because I want you to feel comfortable," he says softly. "I remember how nerve-wracking my first intimate scene was. I just wanted to help you through it."

His words touch you deeply, and the warmth of the wine spreads through your body, making you feel more relaxed and at ease - but you feel like there is more behind this sentiment.

You look at him, marvelling at how good he looks. His blue eyes are mesmerising, holding a depth that draws you in. The more you glimpse, the more you feel the buzz of the wine, the room around you fading away, leaving just the two of you.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself leaning closer to him, your inhibitions slipping away with each passing second. The wine, his presence, and the undeniable chemistry between you create a heady mix that leaves you feeling both exhilarated and comforted, and it doesn’t help that you know by now that he is a fantastic kisser.

"Patrick," you say softly, your voice carrying a hint of the boldness the wine has given you, "I’m really glad it’s you."

He smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "Me too," he replies, his voice just as soft. "Me too."

You take another sip of your wine, feeling the warmth spread through your veins, and look at Patrick, a playful glint in your eyes. "You know," you say, your voice light and teasing, "I wouldn’t mind practising with you again sometime."

Patrick grins, his expression both delighted and amused. "Really?" he asks, his eyes twinkling. "I think that can be arranged."

His grin is infectious, and you can’t help but find it incredibly cute. You notice how the light catches the wisps of hair around his ears, making his strong jawline even more striking, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger. 

_____

The wine flows freely as the evening wears on. Your initial nerves have all but vanished, replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie and a buzz that makes you feel bold and uninhibited. Patrick is charming, and witty, and his smile sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Eventually, you both turn your attention to the script, flipping through the pages together. As you read, you come across an intimate scene that makes you pause. "God, how... how should that work?" you wonder aloud, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Patrick looks at you thoughtfully, then says, "We could practise that as well."

You glance at him, shocked by his words, your eyes wide as you feel the dull thrum of arousal spreading through your veins like fire. He notices your surprised reaction and immediately starts to stammer, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "I mean, it’s a stupid idea. Forget I said anything."

Your gaze wanders to his hands, noticing how he fiddles nervously with his fingers. You gulp, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement. "No, no..." you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I like it."

Patrick’s eyes meet yours, his expression one of cautious hope. "You do?" he asks, his voice tinged with surprise.

You nod, feeling the buzz of the wine and the intensity of the moment, giving you courage. "Yeah," you admit, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yeah, I mean... it would help, right? To make it look more authentic."

He relaxes slightly, his blush fading as he gives you a tentative smile. "Okay," he says softly. "But only if you’re comfortable with it."

You take a deep breath, the reality of what you’re suggesting sinking in. But there’s something about Patrick’s presence, his understanding and genuine concern, that makes you feel safe. "I am," you say finally, your voice steady. Your fingers are brushing against his. His skin is warm and smooth under your touch, sending a thrill through you. "I trust you."

You both take a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling between you. With a nod, Patrick starts to read through the scene, his voice steady and calm. As he describes the actions and emotions involved, you feel a sense of clarity and purpose, the initial apprehension fading away.

"Alright," he says, his voice gentle but firm, "We’ll take it slow, just like with the kiss."

Patrick stands up and holds out his hand for you to take. Before you accept his help, you reach for your wine glass again, taking a long, steady sip to bolster your courage. Then, you place your hand in his, letting him help you to your feet.

"You ready?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nod, a mixture of nerves and determination coursing through you. "Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

He leads you to the bedroom, his hand warm and reassuring in yours as you carry your wine glass in the other. The room is softly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere that both excites and calms you.

Once inside, Patrick turns to you, his expression serious but kind. "We’ll start with the basics, just like we did with the kiss. It’s all about trust and making sure you’re comfortable."

You take another sip of your wine, the warmth spreading through you, giving you the confidence to continue. "Okay."

Patrick steps closer, his presence both comforting and electrifying. "Just remember, this is all for the scene. We need to make it look real, but we also need to respect each other’s boundaries."

You nod again, appreciating his careful approach. "Got it."

He places his hands gently on your shoulders, his touch warm and steady. "We’ll start with simple touches, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, feeling the heat of his hands through your clothes.

Patrick’s hands slide down your arms, his touch sending shivers through you. He leans in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours, searching for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he continues, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that feels intimate and you try to ground yourself by repeating this is just practise like a mantra.

As he moves closer, you can feel his breath on your skin, the scent of him mingling with the wine on your lips. You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment, focusing on the sensations rather than the nerves.

He stops, his face inches from yours, his eyes dark with intensity. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," you whisper back, feeling a mix of excitement and calm.

Patrick’s lips brush against yours in a soft, exploratory kiss. It’s gentle, testing as if he’s gauging your reaction. You respond, leaning into the kiss, feeling the familiar warmth and softness of his lips. It’s different now, more charged, more purposeful.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Still okay?"

"Yes," you say, your voice firmer this time, filled with newfound confidence.

Patrick smiles, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Good. Let’s keep going, then."

Encouraged by your response, Patrick leans in again, this time kissing you more deeply. 

His lips part slightly, and you feel the warmth of his tongue as it brushes against yours. The taste of him is a heady mix of wine and something uniquely him - earthy and intoxicating and somehow even more prominent than when you first kissed.

You both lose yourselves in the moment, the lines between acting and reality blurring. Your hands find their place on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless, your hearts racing in unison. "Are you okay?" he asks again, his voice filled with concern and something deeper.

"Yes," you reply, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "More than okay."

Patrick’s eyes soften, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face. His touch is gentle, a fleeting caress that sends a shiver down your spine. 

"I’m glad," he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. "We’ll keep practising, taking it step by step."

Feeling the pleasant buzz of the wine, you find yourself staring at him, completely transfixed by his appearance. The soft lighting in the room plays on his features, highlighting the warmth of his blue eyes and his broad shoulders. 

Unable to resist the impulse any longer, you reach out and run your hand through his hair. It’s as soft as it looks, each strand silky beneath your fingertips. Patrick’s smile widens at the unexpected touch, his teeth flashing as the corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement and affection.

"You like my hair, huh?" he teases gently, his voice filled with warmth.

You laugh softly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pleasure at being caught in the act. "It’s... really soft," you admit, your voice tinged with admiration.

Patrick chuckles a deep, melodic sound that resonates through the room. "Well, thank you," he replies, his tone playful. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

You smile, still brushing your hand through his locks, combing them away from his face.

"I should probably get us some more wine," Patrick suggests, breaking the quiet moment with a practical suggestion.

You nod, reluctantly letting go of his hair. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

As Patrick heads towards the kitchen, you can’t help but stare at his arse, noting how perfectly shaped and firm it looks as you take a moment to collect yourself, reflecting on the evening’s events. There’s a warmth in your chest that goes beyond the wine, a burgeoning sense of trust and possibility that extends beyond the rehearsal of a scene. 

You try to tell yourself that it’s just acting, that it doesn’t mean more, but you can’t deny the way he makes you feel, the way the heat has already bloomed low in your stomach and how your panties already feel uncomfortably wet. 

Patrick returns with the wine bottle in hand. You watch him move with fluid grace, his every gesture carrying an easy confidence that is both reassuring and enticing. He pours wine into both your glasses, the soft clink of glass against glass punctuating the silence between you. You take a sip almost instinctively, the warmth of the wine spreading through you.

"Are you ready to continue?" Patrick asks softly, his voice a soothing murmur.

You nod, meeting his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. He steps closer to you, his presence filling the space between you. With gentle fingers, he slips under your sweater, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort before he slowly pulls your sweater over your head.

The room seems to hold its breath as you stand there in your bra. Patrick’s gaze sweeps over you,  his eyes darkening with appreciation and desire. A blush creeps up your cheeks under his intense scrutiny, but you gather your courage, heightened by the wine, and take a deliberate step closer to him.

"Time to even the playing field, don’t you think?" you say, your voice a mixture of playfulness and a hint of nervousness. 

Your grin is more daring now, emboldened by the wine and the electricity in the air. With a steadying breath, you mirror his earlier actions, your fingers trembling slightly as they find the hem of his shirt. As you pull it off, your fingertips graze lightly over his skin, sending a thrill through your entire being.

The fabric slides smoothly over his shoulders, gliding down his arms and dropping to the floor with a whisper, and you can’t help but marvel at the sight before you that leaves you momentarily breathless.

His chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the contours of well-defined pectoral muscles evident beneath taut, smooth skin, illuminated by the soft, ambient light in the room.

Shadows play across his torso, accentuating the contours and highlighting his athletic build and the defined lines of his abs.

Your eyes wander over his shoulders, broad and powerful, that slope gracefully down to arms chiselled with sinewy muscle. You had admired his arms earlier, but now, seeing them bare, you appreciate them even more - the curve of his biceps and triceps, the subtle flex of muscle beneath his skin, and the prominent vein that traces a path down his forearm to his wrist.

You notice the gentle patch of hair on his chest, starting just below his neck and trailing down, disappearing tantalisingly into the waistband of his pants.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you take in the sight of him, feeling a heady mix of desire and admiration. The wine has added a hazy warmth to your thoughts, heightening your senses and intensifying the moment. 

His eyes meet yours again, a small smile playing on his lips as he interrupts your thoughts. "Shall we continue?" he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is locked on yours with an intensity that ignites a rush of heat in your cheeks and a flutter in your stomach.

You nod, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. "Yes," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

With careful movements, Patrick steps closer, his fingertips brushing lightly against your waistband. His touch is tentative yet confident, a gesture of understanding and respect. You look at him as he unbuttons and unzips your pants, a rush of heat spreading through you at the intimate contact.

His movements are unhurried as he helps you step out of your pants, his eyes never leaving yours. The air crackles with tension as he stands before you, his own desire barely concealed beneath the surface. You catch a glimpse of admiration in his eyes as they roam over your form, his appreciation evident even in the dim light.

Once you’re left in your panties, Patrick takes a deliberate breath, his own pants next in line. With fluid motions, he removes them, revealing legs toned from years of physical activity. His movements are deliberate yet unhurried as he steps out of them, leaving him in just his black, tight boxer shorts.

Your eyes fall to his crotch, feeling a pang in your chest when you notice that his cock isn’t even half hard - while you’re sure your pussy is already soaking wet. 

Patrick steps closer, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I’ll have to touch you," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mix of desire and professionalism. "And you’ll have to touch me for the scene to look realistic."

Through the haze of the wine and the heat simmering between you, his words momentarily confuse you. But then it clicks - this is supposed to be practice for the sex scene in the movie you’ll both be shooting. Still, the air between you feels charged with something much deeper, something that goes beyond mere acting.

You nod, swallowing hard as you whisper, "That’s okay."

Patrick’s hand trails over your bare back, his touch sending electric sparks across your skin. He pulls you closer, your bodies nearly touching, the heat of his bare chest radiating against your skin. The world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this intimate moment.

"You’re doing great," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. His hand moves slowly, exploring the curve of your spine, the small of your back, and then lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your underwear.

You shiver, your breath catching in your throat. Your own hands, trembling slightly, reach out to touch him, tracing the hard lines of his abs, feeling the strength beneath the smooth skin. 

Patrick’s eyes never leave yours, his gaze filled with both reassurance and raw need. "We need to make it believable," he says, his voice low and rough.

You nod again, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. He leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you cling to him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation. Finding none, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, his tongue parting your lips to explore your mouth, making your head spin again.

You press closer, your bodies aligning perfectly, the friction igniting a desperate need within you. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. With a controlled urgency, he walks you both over to the bed, guiding you down gently and positioning himself above you, between your legs.

His blue eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you can’t think of anything else, the wine’s warmth and the intensity of the moment completely taking over you. 

Patrick leans over to the nightstand to grab the script, his elbow accidentally brushing against your clavicle. The unexpected contact snaps you out of your reverie, and a laugh bubbles up from your chest. He pulls back quickly, concern flashing in his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, his voice tinged with embarrassment as he apologises multiple times, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

Your laughter is infectious, and soon, he’s chuckling along with you, the tension easing slightly. The warmth of the moment wraps around you both, making the intimacy feel even more genuine.

"It’s okay," you reassure him, your fingers tracing a soothing path along his arm. "It’s kind of charming, actually."

He smiles, his eyes twinkling with affection and a hint of amusement. "Charming, huh? I’ll take that."

You bite your lip and look up at him, still grinning. The playful banter helps ease some of the nervous energy buzzing between you.

Patrick’s expression turns more serious, though the warmth never leaves his eyes. "Alright," he says softly, "I guess we should start now, so you can practice."

He positions himself and begins to fake thrust, his movements careful and deliberate. You feel his crotch brushing against your cunt through your clothes, the friction sending a jolt of unexpected arousal pooling within you. Your breath catches, and for a moment, you lie there stiff, your mind reeling from the sensation.

Sensing your tension, Patrick starts making corny jokes to lighten the mood. "Did you hear about the actor who fell through the floorboards?" he asks with a playful grin. "He was just going through a stage."

You can’t help but giggle, his effort to make you laugh easing some of your nerves. He continues, "Why don’t we ever tell secrets on a movie set? Because the walls have ears!"

Your laughter bubbles up again, the sound easing the tight knot of anxiety in your chest. Patrick smiles down at you, clearly pleased with your reaction.

"Better?" he asks, his voice warm and reassuring.

"Yeah," you nod, still smiling. "Much better."

"Good," he says encouragingly. "But you have to participate more. Try to fake moan, and don’t forget to touch me... make it believable."

You groan, feeling the weight of the situation and the need for more courage. "I need more wine," you declare, reaching over to your glass and taking a big sip. The liquid warmth courses through you, fortifying your resolve.

Patrick watches you with an amused smile as you set the glass down. "Ready now?" he asks, his tone light but his eyes serious and soft.

You nod, placing the glass back on the nightstand. You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the wine spreading through your body, giving you a bit more courage. "Okay, let’s do this."

Patrick resumes his movements, his hips gently pressing against you. This time, you allow yourself to relax into the sensation, your hands sliding up his arms, feeling the strength and warmth of his muscles beneath your fingers. You start to move in sync with him, your body responding to the rhythm.

You let out a tentative moan, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sound. Patrick’s smile widens, and he leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, reassuring gesture.

"That’s it," he murmurs encouragingly, his eyes locking onto yours. "Just like that."

The friction of his thrusts, even through your clothes, sends sparks of pleasure through you, heightening your arousal. You let yourself get lost in the moment, in the feel of his body against yours, in the way his eyes stay locked on you, full of both desire and reassurance.

Patrick’s smile widens, and he leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, reassuring gesture.

You return the kiss, your hands trailing down his back, feeling the play of muscles under your touch. The fake thrusts become a bit more deliberate, the friction between your bodies sending jolts of desire through you. You moan again, louder this time, as his clothed dick brushes over your clothed clit, the sound mingling with the soft pants of your breath.

"Perfect," Patrick whispers against your lips. "Just keep doing that."

You respond with a louder moan, your hands exploring his back with more confidence, your body moving in sync with his. The sensation of his clothed erection rubbing against you drives you wild, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like without the barriers between you.

The wine buzzes in your system, adding to the hazy, intoxicating atmosphere. Patrick’s hands roam your body, his touch both gentle and firm, guiding you through it. The combination of his encouragement, the arousal pooling within you, and the heat of the moment make you forget everything else, leaving only the two of you, lost in the passion and intensity of your connection.

You start to get bolder, your cunt uncomfortably wet, and your nipples hard and stiff under your underwear. Each thrust makes you more aware of his growing hardness pressing against you. It’s clear this isn’t leaving him indifferent. His blue eyes are dark and blown wide with lust.

The words slip out before you can stop them. "I’m completely naked in the scene."

Patrick stops, his movements halting as he looks at you, serious but smiling. "Really?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes. He searches your eyes, trying to gauge your meaning. 

You giggle, the wine making you feel braver and more carefree. "Yeah, we should make it more believable."

Patrick’s smile widens, and he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. 

Your heart races, the reality of the situation mingling with the fantasy you’ve been lost in. "Yes," you whisper, the word escaping your lips before you can second-guess yourself.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze searching yours for any hesitation. Finding none, he nods. His hands move to the waistband of your underwear, pausing briefly as if giving you one last chance to change your mind. When you don’t, he slides them down slowly, the fabric gliding over your skin, leaving you bare before him.

The cool air against your exposed skin only heightens your arousal. Patrick’s eyes darken further as they roam your body, his appreciation evident in his gaze. You wonder if he can see just how wet you are, the thought making your cheeks flush and your cunt tighten with anticipation.

Before you can think, he places one big hand on your shoulder, pulling you up slightly so he can reach your bra, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cool air. He unhooks it deftly, sliding it over your shoulders and down your arms, leaving your breasts exposed.

You shiver, a mix of anticipation and the cool air causing your nipples to harden even more. Patrick’s eyes lock onto your breasts, his breath hitching as he takes in the sight. He licks his lips, and you can see the raw desire in his eyes, making your heart race even faster.

"You’re beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and reverent as he stares at you. His fingers twitch at his sides as if he wants to reach out and touch you, but he shakes his head in a quick motion before he stands up, quickly shedding his own underwear.

Your eyes are drawn to his cock. He’s big, his length impressive even in its semi-hard state.  It rests in a bed of neatly trimmed pubic hair, his balls hanging heavy with a promise of what’s to come. He’s uncircumcised, and you can see the head peeking out, glistening with precum.

Your mouth waters at the sight, an involuntary reaction to the sheer desire coursing through you. You can feel your core clenching with need, your body aching for his touch. 

The sight of him, completely naked and aroused, sends a wave of heat through your body, your nerve endings singing with want and arousal.

The urge to reach out and take him in your hand, to feel the weight and warmth of him, is almost overwhelming. You try to remind yourself that this is only for practising a scene, but the intensity of your arousal makes it difficult to focus on anything other than the man before you.

Every detail of him captivates you - the way his muscles shift under his skin, the confident yet gentle way he moves, and the raw desire in his eyes as he looks down at you. 

He clears his throat, his voice breaking the tension slightly. "You know, we’d normally wear a modesty garment for scenes like this," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You giggle, the wine wreaking havoc on your inhibitions, making you feel bolder and more carefree. "It’s okay," you say, reaching for his hand and pulling him down towards you.

Patrick lets himself be guided, his body flopping down on the bed beside you, clearly also impacted by the wine. 

"So you want to continue to practise?" he asks, slightly breathless. His eyes search yours, checking for any sign of hesitation.

You nod, and he leans in, his breath warm against your skin as he positions himself between your legs again. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips before capturing them in a kiss that’s both tender and fiercely passionate.

The kiss deepens, your bodies pressed together, the heat between you growing. Patrick’s hands roam over your body, exploring every curve, every line, as if committing them to memory. The sensation is almost overwhelming, your senses heightened by the intensity of the moment.

He starts to fake thrust again, his half-hard cock bumping against your clit, making you arch against him and let out a real moan.

Patrick instantly stops, his eyes widening. "Sorry, this might be a bad idea," he says, his voice filled with concern and regret.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "It’s okay," you assure him, though you can feel the tension still hanging in the air, afraid that he’d stop whatever this is.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I didn’t mean to... I just..."

"It’s fine, really," you interrupt gently, placing a hand on his cheek before pulling him down for a kiss again. The touch of your lips against his seems to melt away his doubts, and he responds with a fervour that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands resume their exploration, tracing the lines of your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished. The wine buzzes in your system, blurring the lines between reality and the scene you’re practising.

You feel him hardening further against you, the friction of his cock against your clit sending sparks of pleasure through you. The feeling of his bare skin against yours only heightens the sensation, making you crave more - crave him more.

Patrick’s kisses trail down your neck, each one igniting a trail of fire on your skin. His hands move to your hips, his touch both gentle and commanding. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both tender and fiercely passionate.

Your desire for Patrick to throw all his principles to the wind and just fuck you grows more intense with each passing second. His now fully hard cock continues to brush against your clit, each movement sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body, making you whimper and moan uncontrollably. 

Your skin feels hot, and flushed with arousal, and every nerve ending is alive, screaming for more.

You close your eyes, unable to bear looking at him - his gorgeous blue eyes, lips parted and slightly swollen, framed by his tousled hair. You try to pretend you don’t want him, but the feeling is overwhelming and impossible to ignore. His breath is hot against your skin, his scent intoxicating, mingling with the faint aroma of wine.

You want to shift your hips so he’d slip inside, desperate to feel the stretch you know his cock would provide. You’re so wet, and you can feel his precum smearing over your cunt whenever he bumps against it, making the friction even more tantalizing. The heat between your legs is unbearable, a molten pool of desire that only he can quench.

Unable to resist any longer, you finally shift your hips, and the very tip of his cock slips into you. It’s not even an inch, but the sensation is electric, and you moan loudly, and freely. Your whole body trembles with anticipation and need.

But Patrick stills immediately.

You open your eyes to find him looking at you, his cock twitching inside you. His blue eyes are dark with lust, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. He’s breathing heavily, his face a mix of desire and concern, but he hasn’t moved a muscle.

"Patrick..." you whisper, your voice trembling with need, your body arching towards him, the head of his big dick already feeling so wonderful.

He swallows hard, his gaze locked onto yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely more than a breath, his tone filled with raw, unfiltered longing.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes," you manage to say, your voice filled with conviction. "I want this. I want you ."

For a moment, he doesn’t move, as if he’s waging an internal battle with himself, his blue eyes searching yours one last time. 

But then, his resolve seems to crumble. 

He shifts his hips slightly, the head of his cock pressing just a little further inside you. The sensation is exquisite, and you can’t help but let out another moan, your body arching toward him, your skin tingling with the heat of arousal.

Patrick leans down, capturing your lips in a fierce, passionate kiss as he begins to push inside you, slowly, inch by inch. The feeling of him filling you is everything you imagined and more, the stretch and heat of him making you gasp with pleasure, your cunt clenching around him.

His cock is thick and hard, pressing against your inner walls in the most delicious way. The friction is intoxicating, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body.

"God, you feel amazing," he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands roam over your body, one coming up to cup your breast, his fingers teasing your nipple until it hardens completely under his touch. The sensation makes you cry out, your body responding eagerly to him.

His eyes darken further as they roam over your body, his gaze hungry and appreciative. The raw desire in his eyes makes your heart race even faster, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.

Patrick’s movements become more confident, his thrusts deeper and more purposeful. He squeezes your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers, and the combined sensations of his cock and his hands drive you wild. The rhythm he sets is perfect, each stroke hitting just the right spot inside you, his thumb flicking your nipple sparks of desire straight to your core.

His eyes are dark and intense, his gaze never leaving yours as he fucks you. The room fills with the sounds of your shared passion - the slick, wet noises of him sliding in and out of you, the gasps and moans that escape your lips, and the low, guttural sounds he makes.

Your skin is on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. The pleasure builds with each thrust, mounting higher and higher until it’s almost too much to bear. Your body tightens around him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

His pace quickens, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I can’t do this long," he groans, his voice strained with the effort of holding back and his thrusts becoming more urgent and desperate. "I don’t think I can hold on much longer... I’m too close."

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him inside you. "Don’t stop," you plead, your voice breathless and filled with need. Your hands grip his shoulders, feeling the muscles shift and tense under your touch as he thrusts into you.

Patrick’s thrusts become more urgent, more desperate, driving you both closer to the edge as his pubic bone rubs against your clit. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.  You can feel his cock swelling, the head pressing against your inner walls with increasing intensity.

Suddenly, with a final, powerful thrust, he shudders and gasps, his body tensing as he reaches his climax. You feel the hot rush of his cum filling you, his cock pulsing inside you as he spills himself deep within you. The sensation pushes you to the brink, but just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he stills, his head dropping to your shoulder.

Patrick’s breathing is ragged, his body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, a perfect echo of your own. Your pussy clenches around him as you whimper, not having cum yet.

He lifts his head to look at you, his blue eyes filled with a mix of wonder and satisfaction. "I’m so sorry," he murmurs, his voice filled with embarrassment. "I came before you. I didn’t mean to..."

You can see the concern in his eyes, the worry that he’s let you down. But the sight of him, so raw and vulnerable, only makes you want him more. "It’s okay," you whisper, your voice soft and reassuring, accustomed to not being brought to orgasm by your partner.

"No, it’s not," Patrick says, his voice firm. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that makes you moan into the kiss.

He pulls out, and you whine at the loss, feeling his thick cock slipping out, leaving your cunt empty and leaking his cum. Patrick hushes you gently, reaching down and brushing his thumb over your clit. 

"Relax," he murmurs, and with that, he plunges two of his thick fingers into your cunt. "God, you look so well fucked. Your pussy is gaping… and so full of my cum."

You gasp loudly as he uses his fingers to fuck his cum further into you. 

His fingers are big and skilled, curling inside you to hit that perfect spot with each thrust. The sensation of his cum being pushed deeper into you ignites the nerves through your body, making you arch against him.

Patrick’s thumb circles your clit in time with his thrusting fingers, creating a delicious rhythm that has you gasping for breath. "You’re so wet," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "I can feel how close you are."

Your legs tremble as the pleasure builds, your body tightening around his fingers. His touch is relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The sounds of your wetness fill the room, mingling with your desperate moans.

Finally, the pressure becomes too much, and you cry out, your body convulsing as you cum hard around his fingers. Patrick doesn’t stop, his fingers and thumb working you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until you’re shaking with the intensity of it.

As you come down from your high, Patrick withdraws his fingers slowly, watching you with a satisfied smile. But he isn’t done yet. He shifts down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. "I want to taste you," he says, his voice husky with desire.

Before you can respond, he lowers his mouth to your pussy, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit. The sensation makes you gasp, your body still hypersensitive from your orgasm. His tongue is warm and soft, and he laps at you with an eagerness that sends shivers down your spine.

Patrick’s mouth is relentless, his tongue delving into your pussy to taste the mix of your arousal and his cum. He groans against you, the vibration adding to the pleasure. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts on you, his tongue and lips driving you wild.

When he finally focuses on your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, you’re already teetering on the edge again. The intensity of his mouth on you, combined with the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, quickly builds you up to another peak.

But Patrick stops there. 

He lifts his head and crawls up your body, his eyes dark with desire. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, "Open your mouth." Your heart races as you obey, and he spits the mixture of your juices and his cum into your mouth. The intimate, filthy act sends a new wave of arousal through you, and you swallow it eagerly, your eyes never leaving his as you moan.

He smiles at your reaction, then moves back down between your legs. His tongue delves into you with renewed fervour, his mouth working you over with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He laps at your folds, his tongue thrusting into you and then flicking over your clit, making you writhe beneath him.

His fingers join in again, thrusting into you while his mouth lavishes attention on your clit. The combination of his skilled fingers and his insatiable mouth drives you wild, each sensation building on the last until you’re on the edge once more.

You feel the pleasure building again, higher and higher, your body tightening in anticipation. When you finally cum, it’s with a force that leaves you trembling, your cries echoing in the room as Patrick continues to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over you. 

He finally pulls back, his face glistening with your juices, and he smiles up at you with a look of pure satisfaction. "You’re incredible," he murmurs, crawling back up to lie beside you, his fingers gently brushing your hair from your face. "And I’m not done with you yet."

"W-what?" you whisper, completely fucked out,  your cunt still twitching and buzzing from your repeated orgasms.

He smirks, impossibly handsome in the dim light. His blue eyes are still dark and blown wide, his curls sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat, making his muscles glisten.

"You heard me," he nuzzles his nose against you before kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with renewed hunger.  You can feel him hard against you, his cock pressing into your thigh, his desire evident.

His hands roam over your body, cupping your tits and squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger.  The sensation sends electric jolts straight to your cunt, making you moan into his mouth and clench around nothing. 

Patrick pulls back and begins trailing kisses down your neck and shoulder, his touch igniting a fresh spark within you. He then turns you over onto your stomach gently, guiding you into position.

"Hold onto the headboard," he instructs, his voice husky with desire.

You take a moment to respond, and your mind is hazy with arousal and the lingering effects of the wine. Patrick’s hands caress your back, and he asks softly, "Are you okay?"

You nod, feeling a new surge of arousal. You throw your ass back a bit, presenting yourself to him, and grab the headboard. 

He laughs softly, the sound filled with warmth and amusement, and presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Good girl," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot and sending shivers down your spine.

Patrick’s hands move down your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. His fingers dig into your flesh, and the sensation of his touch makes you feel even more aroused, your body aching for more as you feel the heat he emanates.

He takes a moment to align himself, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. The mix of your wetness and his cum makes the slide smooth as he pushes into you, filling you once more.

The sensation is intense, the stretch almost overwhelming as he fills you up inch by inch for a second time. You moan loudly, your fingers tightening around the headboard as he bottoms out inside you, his cock deep and hard and feeling somehow bigger from that angle.

Patrick’s fingers dig into your hips as he starts to thrust slowly. Each movement sends ripples of pleasure through your body, and you moan, pushing back against him. 

His hands grip your hips, pulling you back to meet his movements, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Every thrust hits that perfect spot inside you that makes your toes curl, making you gasp and moan with each one.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, his voice thick with pleasure. Patrick’s hands roam over your back, sliding up to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples, adding to the overwhelming sensation. The way his hands play with your tits sends another wave of arousal through you, your nipples hard and sensitive under his touch.

Your mind is a haze of pleasure, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Patrick’s rhythm increases, his cock sliding in and out of you with a steady, relentless pace, each one filling you up in a way that leaves you breathless and wanting more. The sound of your bodies moving together fills the room, accompanied by your moans and his groans of pleasure.

You feel yourself getting closer, the knot of pleasure tightening in your core. Patrick’s hand slides down your body, finding your clit and rubbing it in quick, tight circles. The dual stimulation is too much, and you cry out, your body tensing as your orgasm crashes over you with a force that leaves you trembling and breathless. Your pussy clenches around him, your moans loud and uninhibited.

Patrick keeps moving, prolonging your pleasure, and his own thrusts grow more erratic. "Fuck," he groans, burying himself deep inside you as he comes, his cock pulsing and filling you with his cum once more. 

The feeling of his warmth inside you only intensifies your pleasure, making you cry out again as the waves of your orgasm continue to wash over you.

You collapse onto the bed, letting go of the headboard - spent. He stays there for a moment, both of you catching your breath before he slowly pulls out and collapses beside you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close as you both come down from your high. The sensation of him slipping out of you leaves you feeling both empty and satisfied, your cunt still buzzing with the aftermath of your orgasm.

"You’re amazing," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You smile, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction and contentment. "You too," you reply softly, snuggling closer to him.

Patrick shifts behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. His body is warm, a comforting contrast to the cool sheets beneath you. His hand settles possessively on your waist, fingers splayed across your skin as if to keep you anchored to him.

The sensation of being spooned by him is almost overwhelming in its tenderness. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, his breath warm against the nape of your neck. Every inch of him moulds perfectly against you, his presence both soothing and electrifying.

"You feel so good," you manage to whisper back, your voice thick with fatigue. Your muscles are deliciously sore, every movement reminding you of the intensity of your connection just moments ago. The heady mix of the wine and the afterglow of sex has left you in a blissful haze and pleasantly drowsy, your body buzzing with a languid, satisfied warmth.

Patrick’s hand begins to draw lazy circles on your hip, the simple gesture incredibly intimate and grounding, his lips brushing against your shoulder in a feather-light kiss.

A soft smile tugs at your lips, your eyes drifting closed as the exhaustion from the night’s events settles over you like a warm blanket. 

He tightens his hold on you slightly, his body curling protectively around yours. The weight of his arm, the solidity of his presence, and the rhythmic beating of his heart against your back all work together to lull you into a state of deep relaxation.

As you begin to drift off, you feel Patrick nuzzle his face into your hair, his breath steady and even. The scent of him - clean sweat and a hint of cologne - envelops you, further grounding you in the moment. You feel utterly safe and cherished in his embrace, every worry and stress from the outside world melting away.

The combination of physical exhaustion and the wine coursing through your system makes it impossible to keep your eyes open any longer. You let out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into Patrick’s embrace, your body fitting perfectly against his.

"I could stay like this forever," you whisper, your words barely more than a breath.

Patrick’s lips brush against your ear in a gentle kiss. "Me too," he whispers back. "Sweet dreams."

With his words lingering in the air, you finally let yourself succumb to the overwhelming fatigue. The last thing you register is the steady, comforting rhythm of Patrick’s breathing and the reassuring weight of his body against yours, grounding you in a sense of peace and contentment that lulls you into a deep sleep.

[gracelaurie]

You’re Mine | Josh Lambert x Reader

fandom : Insidious (especially Chapter 2)

pairing : Possessed!Josh Lambert x Fem!reader

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?”

THE END.