Pls If You Can Do A Part 2 Pf The Dalton Fic!!

i adore you and your mind

Random Lost Boys Headcannons

David- The king of side eye

The rest of the boys adopted David’s side eyeing habit

People can usually feel it when one of the boys are side eyeing them

Marko and Paul would’ve loved watching Jersey Shore

Paul would’ve done the Jersey Shore fist pump

“You start at the bottom! Then work your way up!” -Paul

The boys avoid Star at all costs if she’s on her period

But they will tease her from afar about it

Marko goes out of his way to make babies cry when he sees them in public

Dwayne gets baby fever

Dwayne likes to hold random people’s babies on the boardwalk

Paul once went on a boardwalk ride while chewing on tobacco and he threw up everywhere

Paul has 🍃 connections

Marko one time got his cheek pinched and called a cutie by some girl on the boardwalk

And that’s how Marko discovered his weakness for pet names

Star had to ask the boys to get her pads and they came back with panty liners and jumbo tampons

Cue Star’s blank staring as her eyes got progressively watery

David has a disdain for vomit. Any other bodily fluid is fine, but vomit is a sure fire way to get David grossed out

The boys give Star major ick

Star’s ick reaction is blankly looking at the culprit up and down before moving away from them

Dwayne likes 60s music still and will occasionally listen to it in private

Paul owns a bunch of cassettes of mostly metal

All the cassettes were stolen and Paul proudly plays them from his also stolen boombox.

Marko trained his pigeons to shit on command

They all got pelted with pigeon shit after a training mishap

Marko was not allowed to say the word shit after that

---

this is so cute! i need more! you’re so talented😍

if i can make more than one request could you pls do dalton and 13

I will never limit your requests (and you're anonymous so I wouldn't even know lol)! Thank you so much for requesting this combo, it was incredibly fun to write! Hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: canon typical violence and discussions of the Further, super duper fluffy, Dalton momentarily forgets how to function when you kiss him. 0.8k+ words

Join the 100 Follower Celebration!

Prompt 13: "I left a lipstick mark on your face." "I need proof you actually kissed me."

“Excuse me. Sorry," you repeat as you push through the students on the sidewalk, headed for Dalton’s dorm.

Since Dalton told you about his ability to astral project and the battle in the Further, you have worried about him. That worry increased tenfold when Chris called and asked you to bring any lights you have to Dalton’s dorm. Every step you take feels like a mile, and you can’t get to Dalton fast enough. Finally barging into his room, you see Chris plugging in a string of lights while Dalton is lying on the floor.

“I brought these. What else do you need?” you ask as you pass Chris the lights you carried from your dorm.

“Perfect. Just keep him in the light and I’ll work on keeping them on,” she answers, adding your lights to the aurora borealis of tangled strings on the floor.

“C’mon, Dalton,” you whisper as you sit beside him and pull his head into your lap.

Combing your fingers through Dalton’s hair, you and Chris flinch when all of the lights go out. Chris leans under one of the beds to check the outlet but screams and backs out quickly.

“I think they’re coming to get him,” she pants as she moves closer to you and Dalton.

You don’t have time to question why she screamed before the first soul becomes visible, slithering out from the shadows in the corner of the room. Pulling Dalton closer to you and cradling his head by your neck, you and Chris yell and try to kick yourselves away from the creatures. A hand lands on your ankle and pulls you toward the darkness.

Chris swings a bundle of lights, but they pass through the creature without harming it. With one firm tug, you slide forward, and your back hits the floor, unintentionally pulling Dalton with you.

“Dalton, wake up!” Chris yells as she grabs your shoulders to keep you in what little light remains.

Several more hands land on you and Dalton, and when you begin to accept that there is no hope, Dalton gasps and opens his eyes.

“Chris, hit the light!” he commands.

Chris flips the switch on the floodlight in the corner, watching as the soul creatures retreat to the shadows. Dalton looks from Chris to you, just noticing that he’s lying on top of you.

“I’m going to go,” Chris says as she walks toward the door. “I’ll be back for my lights. Or not.”

The door closes, and Dalton opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. You place your hands on either side of his neck, leaning up to kiss him. You press your lips to his cheek as you feel his heartbeat under your thumb and against your chest.

“You’re alright?” you ask after you lay back down.

“Yeah,” he answers. He pushes off the floor to stand up then pulls you up with him. “Are you?”

“Yeah. I mean, that was really creepy and I may not want to be in the dark for a while, but I’m good.”

You lean against his desk, sending him a small smile. Dalton nods and pulls his phone from his pocket, standing beside you as he dials a number and raises the phone to his ear.

“Mom,” he interjects quickly when the line connects. “Is Dad back?”

You hear the muffled sounds of his mom responding, and he turns to nod at you, smiling as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Dalton says before ending the call.

“We?” you ask.

“Will you go with me? I really need to see them.”

“Of course.”

He turns to hug you properly, and you press your hand against his chest to stop him.

“I left a lipstick mark on your face,” you say as you lift your hand from his chest to wipe it off.

Dalton wraps his hand around your wrist, holding it in the air as he shakes his head. “I need proof you actually kissed me.”

You smile at him as you counter, “Your memory isn’t enough?”

“I had just come out of the Further, maybe I imagined it.”

“Fine,” you concede with a laugh.

Dalton lowers your hand and moves his fingers to interlace with yours.

“How long are you planning to keep the proof?”

Dalton shrugs and raises his phone, open to the camera, to get a better look at the stain. “I think it suits me. Maybe forever.”

You roll your eyes at his antics. “Or I could just replace it whenever you want it.”

“You’d do that?” he asks excitedly.

“As soon as you wipe that one off.”

“But Foster won’t believe me.”

“You’re weird.”

“Yet you kissed me.”

“Maybe I like weird. Now let’s go, I’ll drive.”

Dalton puts his phone in his pocket as he follows you out of his dorm. “Hey, do you think you could kiss the other cheek to make it symmetric?”

You stop walking and turn around, placing your hand on his clean cheek as you reach up and kiss his lips quickly. “You’re an art major, Dalton, you should understand the beauty of an accent.”

Dalton is speechless as he continues following you. “So, that was a no to the other cheek?”

---

yeah, no problem😊

it’s kinda in between a red flag and a green flag, like neutral or odd.

example: having a friend who is a very erratic driver but they always get you where you need to go on time and in one piece, it’s just very terrifying to drive with them.

Dalton is totally a green flag. but he would break up with you in an instant if he thinks his “condition” puts you in danger. he prioritized your safety even if he had to let you go.

Possessed Dalton on the other hand, is a big red flag. playing with your feelings, only use you for his own benefit. but sexy af. I know. probably has a rope kink or something. and is it just me or does he looks bigger when he gets possessed?

and then there is our king Ty who probably would give you a mixed signal. idk.

Please Reblog is Your Blog is Safe for Non-Binary People.

If my mutuals can’t rb this then we can’t be mutuals

Better Later Than Never: Dalton Lambert x Reader

Summary: Chris takes you and her old roommate Dalton to a frat party and insists the three of you mess with their things. When you and Dalton nearly get caught, a misunderstanding puts Dalton into some hot water with his crush; you

Warnings: Dalton being an idiotic virgin. Chris is such a fucking instigator, I love her. Nick makes a dick-ish appearance. Fem!Reader is having a hard time being patient. As a result, we get ooc!Dalton who is suffering from acute horniness. Smut ensues. Sweet Dalton. Switch!Dalton, Switch!Reader. loss of virginity. first kisses. little bit of angst. fluffyyyyy. raw sex, wrap before you tap, folks. doggy-style. Riding. Oral (female and male receiving).

The party was loud to all of your senses. The booming bass of whatever shit song was playing made your skin feel like it was vibrating. The smells of sweat, weed, sex and the toxic fumes of axe body spray overwhelmed you and gave you a head ache. But Dalton was there, so you might as well have been dreaming.

Dalton Lambert was an art student and the former roommate of your current roommate, Chris. You and Chris didn’t have much in common but she was easy to get along with and was a great roommate. You were a history major who minored in the arts, and Chris…liked music.

She got in a situation with Dalton that involved his possessed body throwing her into a wall, and that’s how you found out that ghosts and demons and astral projection were all real things. And you and Dalton got along easily, enough for you to develop feelings for him over the months as Chris helped you bond through things she liked her friends to do with her.

Like parties, Chris liked parties. But not in the typical drinking-and-dancing-and-fucking way. Chris liked to go to parties to make fun of party people and rifle through their things. And she liked to drag you and Dalton along with her, at least until she lost track of you while doing something else.

Right now, for instance, was the perfect example. You and Dalton were awkwardly standing at the edge of the dance floor in the living room of a frat house while Chris nosied her way through the brothers’ bedrooms. Dalton looked beautiful under the colorful strobe lights, the flashing rainbows contrasting with intense shadows across his handsome features. You couldn’t stop glancing at him.

“I hate this. Hate it. Let’s leave,” Dalton grumbled deeply in your ear, his soft hair tickling your cheek as he shook his head in disdain.

You shivered lightly and disguised it as a laugh. “Happy to, as soon as we find Chris. We can’t leave her here by herself.”

“Fine, let’s look for her. And go.” Grabbing your hand, Dalton stomped his way upstairs with a look so venomous that people automatically parted to let the two of you pass.

You flushed, staring at your joined hands blankly, and nearly tripped trying to keep up with your friend. At the top of the landing, Dalton unfortunately let go of your hand and turned to face you.

“Let’s split up and look for her. And hope she hasn’t gotten herself in trouble,” Dalton ordered. You nodded and turned around, then the lights went out.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! GLOW IN THE DARKKKKKK. HOPE YOU’RE WEARING LIGHT COLORS,” came an echoing shout from downstairs. It sounded like Nick, much to your chagrin.

A body crashed into yours and long, thin fingers clutched at your waist and around your shoulder. The hand on your shoulder grazed your breast and you were about to elbow whatever skeeze was trying to coo a feel when you heard Dalton in your ear again.

“Y-Y/n,” Dalton whimpered. It wasn’t a question, but more of a sigh of relief. You wrapped your own fingers around his and squeezed them lightly to reassure him.

“Let’s look for Chris together and dip,” you offer, knowing he wouldn’t refuse. Dalton would go for any option that got him out of the dark the quickest. Even after his traumatic encounter in the Further, it seemed like he was even more afraid of the dark. Not that you blamed him.

You nodded and held onto his hand as you walked into the first bedroom that connected to another bedroom. Closing the door behind you so as to not draw unwanted attention, you and Dalton looked around in the mostly dark room for your eccentric mutual friend.

“Chris?! Chris! Let’s go,” Dalton hissed harshly into the room. When his demand was met with silence, you moved to the connecting room to look there.

“Chris? Listen, you’ve had your fun, but me and Dalton wanna leave. Can we just go?” Once again met with silence, you sighed in frustration and grabbed Dalton’s hand again to guide him back into the hallway.

Then the door started opening from the outside and you instinctively slammed it closed again. Dalton’s gaze shot to you in shock, pulling you closer to him protectively.

“Hey! What the hell? Who the fuck is in my room?!” Great…Nick the Dick.

“Fuck, again?” Dalton had a few run-ins with Nick, one of them resulting in what Chris called “A God Awful First Kiss, Oh My God, Dalton, I’m Still Sorry About That!” It was easy not to feel jealous about it, but you wished you could have the chance to kiss Dalton.

“This is why we don’t go to parties,” you muttered in annoyance.

“What do we do?” Nick was banging on the door and hollering in jest to his friends, yelling about catching someone in the act. Probably trying to humiliate the two of you into coming out.

“We got two options, fighting or fucking. Not real, obviously, but y’know…You choose.” You hoped he’d choose to kiss you, so you would know he’d actually want to before he did. It’s a subtle way to find out how he feels, or at least if he is attracted to you.

From what you could see in the dark, he stared at you blankly for a moment, each second had you panicking at the possibility of being caught. More voices of raucous frat boys got closer to the door.

“Dalton!”

“Uh, fight?! How would that even work?” His hands darted out towards you in the dark and pulled you in even closer in panic.

You tried to hide the crestfallen expression on your face with a witty smirk and hoped the dark hid your sudden wave of insecurity.

“Follow my lead.” You cleared your throat and approached the door. “OH, SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING PRICK! YOU ARE SUCH A SELFISH AND CONCEITED ASSHOLE! EVERYTHING HAS TO BE ABOUT YOU! NO! DON’T TELL TO BE QUIET, TYLER! I’M SO SICK OF YOU! IF YOU WON’T MEET MY NEEDS, I’LL FIND SOMEONE WHO WILL!”

You threw open the door and stormed out with a look of rage adorning your features. Dalton ran after you silently, quickly enough that the still dark and crowded hallway helped conceal your identities.

Once the two of you were safe from Nick and his cronies, you heard Dalton giggling behind you. “Holy shit, that was awesome! I could really believe that you were mad at me.”

Shame flooded you as you admitted to yourself that you had let a bit of your actual bitterness at his apparent rejection bitterness cloud your performance. You shrugged noncommittally as you dragged him downstairs.

All you want right now is to leave the stupid party and drown your sorrows with a pity party, some ice cream, and dancing to early 2000’s party music while alone in your room. And your bad mood worsens when you spot Chris, flirting with a sorority girl in the kitchen on the first floor.

You huff irritably and roll your eyes, pushing your way through the crowd carelessly. It takes you a minute to register that Dalton is still following you.

“Hey, let’s go back to your dorm. It’s not like you have anyone else to go back to,” Dalton jokes lightly as he keeps up with you easily, softly apologizing to all of the people you’re practically shoving aside.

“Sure, fine,” you shout back at him over the music, not bothering to look back at him as you start to grab your belongings that you’d hung up on the coat rack when you’d arrived.

Dalton grabs your upper arm as you shrug on your jacket. You whip around to look at him and try your school your features into something less angry. As upset as you are, it’s not his fault that he doesn’t share your feelings, it’s not like you’d even admitted anything to him anyways. He didn’t know how much his rejection had actually hurt you.

But he sensed something was up with you, you knew it. Dalton was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, you always knew exactly what his intentions were by just the look on his face.

“What’s up with you? Why are you acting so weird?” His sad and confused puppy-dog eyes were enough to end wars in your opinion, but right now, his words lit a fire in your chest.

Then you got a text from Chris telling you that she was going to go home with some sorority girl, and to make a move on Dalton. Fuck, this night was going terrible. You sorta kinda maybe blew up at him, just a little. The music made it hard to carry the message without a little bit of yelling.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m standing in the middle of a party that I didn’t even want to go to. Surrounded by obnoxiously drunk people with music that’s so bad and so loud that it’s giving me a migraine. After nearly having to get caught in Nick the Dick’s room because Chris can’t keep her hands to herself. Literally. Because we went through that entire thing upstairs only for her to be down here the whole time flirting with some random chick. So I apologize for forgetting my manners for all of five fucking seconds and not being more polite when addressing you, Dalton.” Your chest was heaving by the end of your winded rant and you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or even more enraged that no one but Dalton seemed dazed by it.

He was staring at you again, puppy face in full effect. His lips parted then shut as he made to speak before thinking better of it. His eyes flickered all over your for a few seconds and you had to convince yourself that you were delusional, thinking that they had temporarily settled on your lips and boobs.

“I didn’t want to come either, why are you taking it out on me?” Turns out he wasn’t thinking better of it. Stupid puppy dog eyes tricked you. “I just wanted to know what was bothering you, like a good friend, and it doesn’t even seem like you want to be around me.”

You didn’t, not now, when your heart and ego had taken a huge hit from him, unbeknownst to him of course.

“Exactly, you didn’t want to come, I don’t know why you’re stopping us from leaving,” you countered, ignoring his last comments.

He exhaled sharply and shook his head, moving around you and opening the front door. You walked out with him and noticed that the both of you were headed in the same direction. Even if you both lived in the same dorm house, you’d assumed he wanted to go somewhere else on his own.

“Where are we going?”

“To your dorm? Duh. I figure you’ll be in a better mood once we get away from all of this crap,” he explains tiredly, chalking up your tantrum to an ill-timed venting session. You were thankful for it, but you weren’t about to say anything. It didn’t change that his assumption was wrong and you were secretly upset with him.

It would be hypocritical, seeing as you weren’t opposed to him spending the night in your dorm.

You hummed your assent and the walk continued on silently. Or at least, until Dalton slowed down to walk side by side with you, trying to “covertly” get your attention by pointedly staring at you.

“So…what’s new with you? Dating someone?” It was a weird question to ask and you had to trample down that small bit of hope that brightened within you. He’d made his side of things clear.

“If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be spending my Saturday night at a frat party of all places with you. I’d be with him and probably getting laid.” You cringed internally at the mention of sex and regretted adding that bit. It had been a really long time since you’d been satisfied by another person. Or yourself.

His face fell slightly and you knew he probably misinterpreted what you’d said. It did sound like an implication that you didn’t want to hang out with him. You tried to lighten the mood by amending your answer.

“If I had been at a party, snooping with my boyfriend, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kiss him to avoid being caught,” you joke with a salacious wink.

Dalton made another face, but it wasn’t as easy to tell what was going through his mind as he thought over what you said. But you could safely register that you hadn’t lightened the mood at all.

“Yeah, yeah. That makes sense. Why wouldn’t you kiss your boyfriend in that situation?” Dalton stared ahead of you, at the path leading to your dorms as you both approached the building. He sounded more like he was talking to himself, though, and you didn’t know what to do to get rid of this heavy feeling that sat between you two.

Thoughts flooded you ranging from guilt to irritation to loneliness to frustration to lust…

“It just felt like you didn’t want to be around me back there. And I’ve never gotten that vibe from you before, so I just kinda assumed that maybe you had someone else you’d rather be hanging with.”

He opened the door for you and fixed you with a look so deep that it made you breathless trying to figure out what he was trying to say. It wasn’t like he felt the same way you did. Did he want you to get a boyfriend?

“C’mon Dalton, Id never prefer anyone’s company over you and Chris. Even if they wanted to do something I actually enjoyed over going to a frat party,” you assured him with a laugh. “Maybe I should get a boyfriend, though. It’s kinda sad I spend all of my free time with you and Chris.”

“Why?”

It was so simple. Just a singled word. But it floored you and you nearly fell off the stairs you were climbing. Luckily you made it to the second floor landing, Dalton’s floor. You had one more flight to go up before reaching your room. You paused as the possibilities of what you could say and what he was implying swirled about your mind before you could even try to control them.

“Because I want someone who doesn’t want me. And the best way to get over someone is to under someone else,” you replied honestly, not seeing a reason to beat around the bush.

“Why bother? Just find someone else that you already like and try going out with them. I mean, I’m right here,” he suggests so casually that you actually considered violence against him.

The muscles in your jaw ache from clenching as your words fall like bricks from between your teeth. “Maybe I considered that before. Maybe I’d hoped for it, every time I looked at you. But it sucks, because it’s kinda hard to date someone who won’t even kiss you.”

He opens his mouth to argue but you jab a harsh finger into his chest to stop him in his tracks. “No, I’m not done. You’ve had every opportunity. Not to respond to my lack of hints, I didn’t expect that much from you. But if you were interested, you would’ve made it known long before now. And even if you hadn’t, you had a chance delivered in your lap at that party. You could’ve kissed me, but no, you chose to have me make up an argument on the spot just to avoid it. So whoops! My fucking bad for not considering you as the perfect candidate.”

He doesn’t look confused anymore. Or sad. He doesn’t even look embarrassed or defensive, like most guys in his position would’ve reacted. He looks enraged and offended.

“Do you seriously think that low of me? That I’d seriously want to kiss you for the first time to avoid Nick. That I’d waste that opportunity like that! For Nick?!” He wasn’t being loud, but his words still echoed in your ears as he got all up in your face. He glowered down at you, his blue eyes enflamed.

“You want the truth? If I had chosen to kiss you, I wouldn’t have been able to stop,” he admitted, still angry, but a lot quieter. Vulnerable.

You softened, just slightly. It was hard for you, too, to be open with him about this. I mean, look what happened as a result of you trying to be. Still, you could feel the tension and frustration filling the air, and just because it was hard for him to say the words, doesn’t mean that he hadn’t said them. He wanted to make a big deal about resisting the temptation, you were going to make him regret that.

“Dalton,” you began, stepping so close to him that breathing a certain way would’ve pressed your chest into his. “If you had let me kiss you, you wouldn’t even have clothes on right now, Nick’s room be damned.”

He sucked in a harsh breath, his pupils dilating drastically. “My room’s closer. Let’s go watch a movie.”

For some reason, that has absolutely nothing to do with your aversion to vulnerability, this ticked you off. Your fury was reignited. Did he seriously think admitting to wanting to kiss you once would abate the months you spent pining after him? He literally rejected you, then pulled some sentimental crap to try to make up for it. Only to suggest Netflix and Chill. All men were the same.

You ignored the small voice in your head telling you that your precious virgin Dalton had never had sex, or been remotely intimate with a woman before. You ignored the fact that from how well you knew Dalton, he had no idea what sexual tension was and was simply trying to defuse the situation until he could get himself under control. So, you lashed out, because the sexual tension and anger felt safer. You didn’t want to go back to normal. You wanted him to do something. Anything.

“Fuck you. I’m not some skank who’ll screw you just because you invite me in for a movie. If I wanted a one-night stand, I could do better than you,” you hiss at him angrily before backing away from him. “As a matter of fact, I think that party is still kicking. I’ll go find someone there. I know Nick is probably desperate enough to show me a good time.”

You turned away and managed to make down to steps before Dalton displayed a rather impressive amount of strength and yanked back up into him, your back colliding with his chest.

Dalton reaches up to pull your hair across the back of your neck before leaning down to press his lips to your ear. “If you want a one-night stand, that’s fine. But don’t think for a second that that’s why I’m inviting you in. If you go into my room, you aren’t coming out when the night is over.”

Fuck that was hot. The universe must have speeded up the plot of this chapter for you, because how the hell did he do a complete one-eighty in the blink of an eye like that? You could feel the heat of his body soaking into yours and resisted the urge to lean into it. You refused to make this easy for him.

“What exactly are you offering that I can’t get from someone else? Someone that wants me more and is willing to show it. I don’t want it to be a fight every time between us because you can’t give me what I want until I’m begging.”

He pulls you away from the steps and presses your front against the wall. You are seriously debating whether or not you think he’s drunk right now. Normally, Dalton is never this upfront or confident. You liked it a lot and hoped it wasn’t some show.

“I like you begging, it turns me on,” he whispers while his face is tucked between your shoulder and neck. You feel yourself heating up for an entirely different reason as you feel his hips pressed into your ass. “But I promise to fulfill all your needs, every time.”

You laughed mockingly. “Oh? You can try, but I doubt you could really satisfy me without my help,” you taunted. Virgin men were usually cocky, having false ideations of skill and stamina. They usually disappointed, and you refused to indulge those ideations. But you weren’t looking for a quick fuck with Dalton, and you were happy to train him.

“Sex is a two way road, of course I’ll need your help,” Dalton his lips brushing your skin reverently, his tongue licking the flushed flesh in short and heated bursts. You moan, turned on even more by both his actions and his admittance. You were genuinely impressed, but it was getting gradually more and more difficult to focus.

You grab his hands and move them to your hips, pushing off the wall and further into Dalton. He whimpered, the sound reverberating in your ear and you slowly guided you both down the hallway backwards.

Dalton got the message and aimed himself towards his own dorm door. Miraculously, you two made it without having to separate and without falling over or tripping. The whole way hand Dalton exploring your torso without ever going too far up or down. His fingers played with the edge of your shirt and his face remained burrowed in your shoulder.

You hummed in discontent as he removed a hand to open the door as the other gripped your waist for balance. You lifted a hand to grip the hair at the crown of his head and keep his mouth tethered to you.

Finally in the privacy of his room, you turned and walked him to his bed, straddling his lap as soon as his knees buckled. You lean in for a kiss just as he’s adjusting his position under your weight and his chin hits your teeth painfully.

“Ah! Fuck,” You hiss with a wince. You lean away and you run your tongue over your top teeth to check for blood.

“Shit, sorry!” Dalton’s hands come up to cradle your face and check for a busted lip or potential bruising.

“It’s fine…” An awkward air ruins the mood a bit and you chuckle nervously as the unpleasant tension set in.

“I acted like such an idiot,” Dalton groans, burying his face in your neck again, only this time in embarrassment. “Acting all big shit. Like I actually knew what I was doing.”

“So you’re happy that you slammed your hard head into my face?” You tease, running your fingers through his hair.

“God, no! And it was totally your fault, you were all over me,” he denies with a laugh, pulling you closer and hugging your body to his.

You scoff and use your hand in his hair to yank his head away from your throat. He groans but complies easily enough and meets your gaze head on and without hesitation.

“I have feelings for you. More than just having a crush or being attracted to you. I wanna be with you, in all ways,” he whispers, the dark stillness of his dorm carrying the words and holding them between your bodies.

Dalton’s big blue eyes seem so clear to you in the low light; earnest and enamored. His fingers twitch against your back and you wonder if he’s trying to pull you closer or push you away to avoid your rejection.

You quickly quell his insecurities before they have time to fester and pull him in for a desperate kiss. Realizing it’s the first kiss you’ve shared, you slow down, enjoying the feeling of his inexperienced lips pressing against yours.

“I adore you.” You say simply, whispering just as he did. Your lips brush with the three words and he leans in a little closer with each one.

Dalton initiates the next kiss, eager and happy, his lips pulled up in a smile against you. His hands settles in the locks of hair behind your ears to drag you further into the kiss. Your own hands move to his shirt, wrinkling the soft fabric and gasping into Dalton’s mouth.

He grabs your hands and removes them from his shirt, using the freedom to remove the garment altogether. His hands don’t stop there, though, and you quickly find yourself topless and breathing hard from your perch in his lap.

You push him down on his back into the mattress and cover his body with your own, kissing and licking at the exposed skin. As you go lower, you come to find that Dalton is quite loud when aroused.

“Please! Please, please, please…” His begging trails off in favor of gasping moans as you begin undoing his pants.

“How far have you gone, Dal?” The only sounds in the room are the sounds of his heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes as you pull his pants down.

His boxers hide an impressive tent and you quickly relieve him of that particular burden as well. Dalton’s hands clawed at the covers of his bed, his eyes silted and watching you.

“N-no, nothing. Chris kissed me at a party once to distract Nick,” he breathed in a rush, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as his dick slapped against his stomach.

God, it was pretty. Seeing as it didn’t get a lot of action, Dalton didn’t do the best job with maintenance, but it didn’t look gross or dirty, just unkempt. Circumcised with thick veins running along the sides, his cock made your mouth water.

You can see why he didn’t want to kiss you at that party, the similarities making you huff a chuckle to yourself. You blew a cold breath onto the head of his cock and watched his abs tense up.

“Please, baby, please. Anything!” He rose up on his elbows and fixed you with a needy stare. You flushed at the attention and focus on his erection, using his arousal for you as a means to ground yourself.

You use the influx of saliva in your mouth to lubricate his length, licking a long stripe from the base. Dalton released a long sigh of relief that ended with a whine.

You wrap your lips around the head and hallow your cheeks. Dalton cries out and his hands fly from his sheets to your head. You’re not sure if he’s trying to pry you off of him or keep you where you are.

His hips raise slightly off the bed, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You decide he’s trying to keep you there. Now that you’re paying more attention to him rather than his genitals, you can hear that he’s muttering to himself. At least, it’s too quiet for you to assume he’s trying to actually talk to you.

“So wet…so good…fuck yes…please…” Most of what he was saying was unintelligible and he kept cutting himself off with moans.

Smirking around his cock, you take all of him down your throat at once. Dalton’s eyes fly open and he shoots up, accidentally pushing you even further onto him, your nose flush with his pelvis.

Dalton’s making a weird face, a cross between pain and pleasure, and he pushes you off of him. Bracing himself against your shoulders, he takes slow and deep breaths for several moments.

“Why’d you stop me?” Your voice is slightly hoarse from the unexpected deep-throating, but you’re grinning up at him like he’s the second coming of Christ.

“I didn’t want to be done yet,” he murmurs once he’s calmed himself down.

You laughed and stood from your position to kiss him soundly. He pulled you back on top of him before rolling you onto your back, kissing your shoulders and chest much in the same way you did, and traveling lower.

“Dalton, you don’t have to. We can do more next time. I need you now!” What you said was partially true, but another part was that you didn’t want to waste time taking him through it. At least not right now.

“Just wan’ a taste. Wanna taste. Real quick. Wanna taste you, baby,” He tells you between biting kisses. Your skirt is pulled off, his nails leaving red trails down your hips and thighs.

His thumbs and forefingers are spreading your folds and you choke on air as Dalton licks a bold stripe down your labia. You jolt in place and your hips rut off the bed as he does it again. And once more. And one more time. It’s so simple, no technique or maneuvering, just licks. Enough to stimulate, but not enough to get you anywhere near completion. It’s like he’s torturing you.

“Fuck! When we’re done, I’m gonna pin you down and have at you for hours. Gonna fill myself with you. Gonna make you cum all over my face.” He stops licking to leave sucking kisses. First on your folds and somewhere he may have thought was your clit, then to your thighs and up your stomach.

“And I’ll tell you exactly how to do it right. But I really want something bigger than your tongue in me right now,” you urge, wrapping a leg around his hip.

He nods and grabs a pillow under your hips, impressing you further. You make an approving face at him, kissing him deeply. He moans into the kiss as he begins entering you.

You break the kiss and toss your head back in a whine, your back arching off the bed and pushing your chest into his. Dalton latches onto your nipple, the extra stimulation causing your hips to thrust up against his and your pussy sucking him in the rest of the way.

Dalton’s initial pace was shaky and unsure. He was struggling between what felt best to him and what he thought might feel good to you. His hands fluttered along your flesh, going from light caresses to harsh groping whenever a thrust felt particularly good to him.

His eyes kept flashing to yours in questioning, then looking away in embarrassment. Warmth filled you at the effort he was putting into making his first time good for you. You just wanted him to cum inside you, you just wanted him to enjoy it fully.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed lightly. Dalton immediately pulled out of you and sat back on his knees.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Does it not feel good?” He starts rambling, his insecurity shining through. He’s grabbing a blanket and trying to wrap you in it when you stop him by grabbing hands.

“Are you enjoying this, Dalton?” You ask, pushing your own body up and pressing yourself into him. He wraps his arms around you and breathes a sigh of relief seeing as you weren’t rejecting him.

“God yes, just want to make you feel good,” he replies in your ear. His hands are going up and down your back and you can feel him, hot and hard, against the cushioning of your stomach.

“This isn’t just a one-time fling, Dalton. But it is your first time, I wan this to be about you,” you assure him, cradling his handsome face in your hands. His long hair is missed sound his head, the soft and minimal lighting making it shine like a halo.

“How can I feel good if you don’t?” He questions with a look so innocent that you could’ve been fooled into thinking he wasn’t talking about sex.

“I am feeling good, Dalton. But this time is all about you,” you push, widening your eyes at him comically for dramatic effect.

“I wanna make you cum. I want you moaning, loudly. I want you all over me for the rest of my life,” he reiterates, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder.

You shiver and moan at his words, pulling away from him and turning around, bending over on your hands and knees.

“You wanna make us both feel good? Fuck me like this,” you demand, peering at him from over your shoulder.

Dalton is slack-jawed and staring at you in awe. In less than a second later, he’s pouncing on top of you and layering his body over you like a second skin. The sounds leaving his mouth are loud and plentiful as he entered you for the second time.

You can also hear the slapping of his hips and balls against your ass and the slickness of your cunt as he pounded into you. You couldn’t tell the difference between your moans and his as he fucked into you deeper. You thrusted back against him, crying out into his ear and encouraging him.

“Fuck, Dalton! Yes! Just like that! Doing so good for me! Yes! Fuck! Yes!”

His fingers curled around your hips as he forced you to accommodate the grinding of his hips into yours. His movements were leagues more confident, and desperate. He was chasing his and yours releases, fucking into you wildly.

“You feel…amazing! Love this tight pussy! Warm and wet and…sooo fucking good for me! Gonna fuck you every day, fill you up. Everyone’s gonna know you’re mine now, they’re gonna know how much you want me!” He growled, thrusting into you harder.

You knew he was close, his movements becoming jerky and out of pace. You were getting close, too, much to your surprise. You could feel that coil stretching within you. And you knew just the thing to snap it.

“I want you, Dalton! Want you so bad! Need you! Cum inside me, right now! Please! No one makes me wet like you, Dalton. Ooh, I’m about to cum,” you yell, reaching down to rub your clit in time with every pass of his cock within you.

It takes four harsh pumps of his hips for him to cum and the rubber band snaps as his warmth fills you to the brim. You see white as your orgasm washes over you and sends you reeling over that sweet edge in pleasure.

Dalton rolls off of you and pulls you over him, reaching up to turn on his fan. The coolness feels nice against your sweaty skin and you can feel his cum dripping down your thigh. It feel gross but you don’t want to ruin the moment.

Luckily, Dalton jolted out of bed unexpectedly and jumbled his way to a stack of wash clothes. Wetting one with a water bottle, he cleans you up and hands you the bottle to drink from.

You giggle at his treatment and snuggle into his side, excited to wake up as Dalton Lambert’s girlfriend.

******

Oh my fucking god, I know the ending sucked, I promise. I ran away from a toxic household a couple of weeks ago but I’ve had this in my drafts for nearly a month and needed to finish it. Not only am I answering a poll, but I’m celebrating 100 followers!

Im so excited and grateful with this achievement and I hope to get into the flow of writing more often now that I’m adjusting to my new living situation. Please, feel free to send requests and interact with my posts

Like, share and reblog please, love y’all and I hope y’all enjoy!

---

Horizon: Chapter 1 - Rain and More Rain, Yay

It wasn't that I didn't like Forks. I loved Forks, most of the people I loved lived here, but holy crow did I hate the rain. I think the only thing that prevented me from choosing to live with my dad was the stupid weather in Forks, Washington. Well, that and the fact that I was almost entirely certain that Renee couldn't take care of herself without me there. But she has Phil now and I have. . . extremely soggy boots. I hate wearing boots but they're pretty essential in a place as gloomy as Forks.

I missed Charlie though, as well as Jacob. We haven't spent nearly as much time together as we did after his mom died. And now that Rachel and Rebecca are off and living their own lives, I'm basically the only female family member he has left. He used to be somewhat close to Leah, the ex of the current werewolf Alpha, Sam, but their relationship ended when Sam imprinted on her cousin/best friend Emily. No one could blame Leah for being closed off after that. She was always traveling around nowadays and when she was in Forks, it was never for very long. Though, she seems a lot happier and more upright in the new life she's leading. I admire that.

Being in Forks long-term after three years was surreal. It was a complete 180 from my toasty and dry Arizona. There's so much more moisture and green here, it was messing with my vision. Or maybe that's the difference in air quality, it made me want to lay on the gravel roads and list all of the differences, but that's considered impractical.

Charlie was ever silent next to me and if I didn't know any better, I'd think he was uninterested. But no, my father was just as awkward as me and doesn't know how to start conversations. I get a lot more talkative when I'm nervous, but I've learned to enjoy the quiet around Charlie. Out of everyone, ever, I've never felt out of place or overstimulated by his energy. Mostly because he didn't have much outside of sports and fishing.

I knew living with Charlie would be a simple arrangement, which I was looking forward to. I didn't have to do our taxes or pay all of our bill or make sure he had a steady job after quitting the old one. We could simply co-exist, and I could just be responsible for myself. Though I would take control of the kitchen. One thing Renee and Charlie had in common, the only thing they had in common, was that neither of them could cook for shit. I loved cooking though, so it would be nice to have control of a kitchen that wasn't tainted by Renee's failed monstrosities and Phil's flavorless "sport's diet". I have no problem with Phil, it's just his "cooking". No soul, lack of flavor, plus he'd make Renee and I follow it to make sure he stayed committed in the off season.

As we neared the house, Charlie got this secret smile that was wholly foreign on his face, and I noticed the corner of Billy Black's truck in our driveway. I was immediately suspicious and turned in my seat, fixing a wide-eyed stare on Charlie. I sat completely still and slowly leaned forward without blinking. Charlie tensed and leaned away.

"Bella, distracted driving is the number one cause of vehicular deaths," he recited in his police chief voice. I rolled my eyes, noting the roof and window of the car. the green was making me dizzy.

"I'm aware. What's going on?" I widened my eyes further and leaned in closer. I started to breathe obnoxiously loud to irritate him further.

"You'll find out when we get there. Girl, get the hell away from me," he exclaimed. I bet he was wishing he could just get out of the car at this moment.

"I don't like surprises, old man", I grumbled as I sat back in my seat correctly.

"Then don't think of it as one, think of it as a couple of homecoming presents," Charlie retorted sarcastically as he parked on the curb outside of our house. I didn't see Billy or Jacob, but that was clearly their truck in the driveway, which another vehicle was hitched to. It was covered with a tarp so I couldn't see anything but the bottom of the wheels.

"I don't like presents, either. Daaaad", I whined childishly to let him know of my disproval. He very pointedly rolled his eyes at me and turned off the cruiser.

I wrestled with the seatbelt, trying to free myself from the confines of this cage to go argue with my father some more. However, I got distracted by the flash of flushed russet and inky black barreling into my window. Before I could even register why the cruiser was groaning and shaking, I was yanked out of the car and spun around in the air. The combination of the overwhelming amount of green, the fast paced movement of my assailant, and the spinning was getting to be too much and I felt like I was going to hurl my guts out.

When I was finally put down, I immediately crumbled to my knees, closing my eyes and laying my spinning head onto the cool, damp grass. At least it was good for something, dumb green grass.

“Oh crap! Bella! Are you okay?!” Jacob. I was gonna kill him if I ruined this shirt, it was nice despite the fact that it wasn’t one of my summery blouses that I loved and missed dearly. Fucking Forks.

“Isabella Marie Swan! What’re you doing yoga poses on the lawn for?” I heard a shout from the porch. Charlie.

At the same time, someone bellowed, “Jacob Black, you better not have had anything to do with this!” Billy.

Rough hands cupped my armpits and hauled me upright. I shoved my hand in Jacob’s face, not forcefully, and I held it there until I felt better. When I did, I shoved him away by his face.

“Dude, what the hell? I almost threw up,” I said, finding my balance and walking up the porch.

“You okay, Bells?” Charlie asked, laying a hand on my shoulder and helping me inside.

“Yeah, glad to be home”, I muttered as I leaned down to hug Billy and greet him.

“Glad to have you home, sweet girl”, Billy said fatherly. It was like having a second dad, which is surely the way Jake sees Charlie as well.

“So what’s with this surprise y’all had in mind?” I asked diplomatically. I could mouth off to Charlie, because he knows better, but Billy and Jacob took time out of their days and put effort into helping my dad.

“Well, we know you have money saved up for a car, but that’s taken care of. Give or take a few minor repairs you might want”, Jacob explained, jogging over the tarp-covered vehicle.

I winced lightly. “That’s really considerate, you guys, but I really wish you hadn’t gone through all that trouble just for me.” It wasn’t that I wasn’t appreciative, but I liked earning my possessions. And I always felt guilty when people bought me things. Renee loved to give sob stories about being a single mom to get things out of people and I felt as though I was doing the same thing when people gave me things.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, it’s not anything too special. The damn thing used to be a little father-son project for me and Jacob. Now we’re putting it to good use and saving you a bit of money,” Billy dismissed casually.

It made me feel worse. That must have taken months, if not a couple of years of work and effort and here they were, handing it to me after three years of my absence.

“Don’t start that”, Jacob huffed while untying the tarp. “It was just lying around, unused and uncared for, and it’s easier for all of us not to go car shopping and making sure you ain’t getting a shit deal.”

“Jacob! Language!”

Jacob rolled his eyes and in one very exaggerated move, pulled off the tarp.

My mind was blown.

Sure, it was super fricking old and the paint job was a mess, but something about this behemoth truck reminded me of Arizona more than any of the little knick knacks I packed. And a helluva lot more useful. My eyes welled up a bit, but I ducked my head bashfully to cover it up.

I ran to Jacob and hugged him in gratitude before excitedly opening the door to get a feel of my new baby. God, he was perfect. Warmer than I was expecting. Cool, if not chapped, leather seats, a bit of frostiness on the edges of the window. It was perfect. It was…Bella. I loved it.

“This is perfect! Oh my god, thank you so much!” I hollered out the open window that took me a bit too much effort to roll down.

“We’re glad you like it, Bells. Now come inside for your other surprise”, Charlie said while rubbing his hands together to keep warm.

I hopped out the truck, actually looking forward to this next gift. I never really how well they truly knew me. Renee and Phil always did their best, but I had the feeling that the main motivation behind their gifts to me was to show how much money they spent on me. Or they’d just plain gift me things that they like, rather than what I liked. It was a unique, welcome feeling to receive things that have actual thought put into them.

I ran up to the porch, almost tripping and busting my ass, and Jacob didn’t do a damn thing but laugh at me for almost eating shit on the walkway.

Charlie in particular seemed very animated about this particular gift. He kept glancing at me in anticipation for my reaction when I saw it.

It was beautiful.

He had opened all of the cabinet doors, the pantry, as well as the fridge and freezer. Everything, too to bottom, was absolutely filled with various types of food and spices and herbs. Veggies and fruits that weren’t even in season. Meats, cheeses and so many condiments. I was in heaven. Ever ingredient for every recipe I wanted to try was right there for the taking. This time, a tear did slip down my cheek.

“Oh, Dad”, I whispered, still in awe.

“You like it right? I told your mom to send me ingredients for the recipes you’ve made or wanted to try. Took a couple of months, but I finally got a long enough list and got to work. You like it, right?” Charlie asked once more when I didn’t say a word.

Honestly, I was a bit choked up. “I love it. I love all of this. Being here with you three. The truck. This kitchen. It’s better than I could’ve ever imagined. Thank you so much, Dad.”

He dug his feet into the wooden floor a bit, mumbling a response. His cheeks were bright red and his hands fiddled with the nervous energy from the attention.

“Welp. Me and Jake best get going before the sun sets. Don’t wanna run into any trouble out in the dark”, Billy said ominously. Before I could ask for clarification, he continued. “Glad to have you home, Bella. Take some time to settle in and get ready for school.”

Ugh, school. The one thing that could put a damper on my mood. But I wouldn’t let it ruin my first day. Forks was looking better and better every minute.

I guess the green wasn’t so bad after all.

~*~

End of Chapter One! Any feedback or anything like that? Apologies for any spelling mistakes, I’m like super tired and dealing with a blood disorder.

Hope yall like everything and here’s a small summary of chapter 2:

Bella’s first day at Forks High!

Bella goes to school and hears about the strange family that recently moved in. Later, she meets a couple of them.

She makes some new friends, too. Good for her.

---

Hello, all. Changed my name because it occurred to me that if I ever somehow seduced my celebrity crushes into a relationship, their crazy fan girls might be able to trace my account and expose me for writing fics about these characters. What can I say? I’m delulu as shit.

i’m a writer for multiple fandoms, and i do write for requests and love interacting with people from my fandoms. below is a list of my usual fandoms, but feel free to ask for others

• The Twilight Saga

• Bones

• The Black Phone

• American Horror Story

• The Hunger Games

• It

• Insidious

• Supernatural

• Marvel

• Teen Wolf

• And more, just ask :)

I don’t just write fanfics, i also do fandom rants, character evaluations, and headcanons

Below is a list of things i refuse to write about and i don’t tolerate

• Racism

• Sexism

• Homophobia

•Any and all hateful bigotry language and behaviors

• Rape

• Genetic Incest

I have written smut in the past and will continue to do so here, we are fun and we like the spice, however there are a few kinks I’m too uncomfortable to write about, such as

• Lactation

• DD/lg (or the gender reversed version) (i just think it’s kinda weird but if you want a character to say “Mommy” or “Daddy” that’s cool)

• Bodily waste fluids

• Non-con (i may write dub-con but only under specific circumstances so just let me know what you have in mind)

I am happy to have a working account that allows me to freely interact with my fandoms again and happy to have an easier platform to write on.

Please interact, like, follow and/or reblog

---

I want people to interact with me and wonder if they’re in a simulation

---

hey! do you plan on writing more dalton lambert fics?

YESSSS, I’d love to. If you check my page, my latest fic was Dalton x Reader and has a poll at the end where you can vote on a Dalton Lambert fic or a headcanon drabble. I’m writing both but the results will tell which one will be published first.

If you have any requests for a one-shot or maybe and specific Reader/OC you’d like me to write, feel free to ask and i’ll get to work on it

---

In The Room Where You Sleep

Summary: Dalton was just being curious and stumbles upon something he probably shouldn’t have. He then does something he shouldn’t have.

Warnings: Mentions of the Further, mentions of entities, Dalton being a creep, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), sexual fantasies

All credit to @glodessa who wrote the imagine that inspired this, so much talent there and you’re feeding my Dalton addiction

Dalton was your friend. His primary art class was in the studio next to the orchestra rooms where you practiced in. He’d wandered in on you playing a section piece on the violin after he’d forgotten that his class was cancelled.

Since you two had obviously seen each other on multiple occasions when going to and leaving from class, he’d felt comfortable striking up a conversation. He usually wasn’t into initiating introductions, but Chris had started forcing him to interact with more people and make friends. You were the first person he had introduced himself to without her assistance.

In a way, he felt a sick sense of possession when it came to you because of that. It made him feel funny, like he was gross and he tried to stomp it down, but it would crawl it’s way up his throat whenever you talked to him. He’d met you all on his on, without a buffer or cleverly charming segue. You knew him for him from the get go, and still liked him. You liked him enough to start waiting for him before classes for a chat. You liked him enough to exchange contacts and let him take pictures of you to save for his own personal enjoyment put into his saved contacts.

You liked him enough to let him walk you back to your dorms every time he had the chance to. Which he did, considering he started walking a different path to insure that he would run into you more often.

He didn’t think he was odd, not really. Lots of friends took secret pictures of each other. For fun, it was funny, like a secret joke. And lots of friends walked together in between classes, it was normal. Even if they didn’t share certain classes. Or if one of the friends wasn’t completely aware that the other friend was nearby.

Dalton didn’t consider it strange that he didn’t like when you talked to Chris, or any of his other friends. Or anyone that might find you attractive. In his eyes, that should’ve meant everyone. You were gorgeous and people should be falling over themselves trying to be with you, in his opinion. But you were his. His friend, at least. And he hated not having your full attention.

Nighttime was the worst, in some ways. You two had met up on occasion to help each other study or wind down from an intense test. But most nights, you turned in early to spend time with your roommate. Dalton hated your roommate, she was so clingy and always convinced you to go back to the dorms, cutting off his time with you. He thought she was off, or at least very selfish, and that she used every opportunity to guilt you and take advantage of your kindness and naivety.

Dalton would never do that, he was lucky to get to be your friend. You were beautiful, talented, kind and accepting. You even accepted his ability of astral projection without hesitation. You were beyond perfect to him, and if he wasn’t with you, he was thinking about you. Constantly, and usually aloud, much to Chris’ annoyance.

“Dolphin! Please, for the love of fuck, ask that girl out already. You’re driving me nuts!” She threw herself back onto the spare bed in Dalton’s dorm in dramatic agony, groaning loudly in complaint.

“No, Chris. She’ll just think that I became friends with her because I wanted to get in her pants,” he dismissed, tossing a dirty t-shirt into his hamper a little too forcefully.

“Isn’t that what all guys do? What’s the big deal?” Chris sat up again to try to convince him. It wasn’t the first time either, but she was almost positive that you liked Dalton back and would rather you keep his mouth too occupied for him to verbally obsess over you. Like he was doing right now.

“I’m not going to do that, Chris. Just drop it.” His voice was unnervingly firm and Chris snapped her mouth shut before another incentive could fall out. Dalton was usually mild-mannered, at least when it came to anyone but his dad, not really the aggressive type. Anti-social and surly, but not aggressive. Unless it had something to do with you.

Chris thought there was something not quite right about Dalton’s crush on you but she figured his abnormal childhood and resulting trauma made it hard for him properly process his feelings. And she was reluctant to ask in case it set him off.

“I heard her roommate is going home to her parents’ for her dad’s birthday, maybe y’all can hang out more this weekend,” Chris suggested instead, unfettered by Dalton’s tone. “She left earlier this afternoon.”

Something seized in Dalton’s chest. You hadn’t mentioned that to him. You didn’t have a reason not to. Was there someone else? Were you going to spend the whole weekend with another guy? Did you have a boyfriend? Anger and hatred for this secret man clouded his mind and he felt like throwing something against the wall until it broke.

“I hadn’t heard about that,” he replied to Chris coolly. “I’ve got some homework to finish, do you mind?”

Chris nodded slowly, grabbing her bag and quickly making her way to the door, watching Dalton worriedly. She gave a half-hearted wave goodbye and left without a word.

As soon as the door shut, he quickly locked it, tearing his ball cap from his head and flinging thoughtlessly towards his desk, knocking over a small stack of his sketchbooks and a tin of water. Cursing under his breath, Dalton begrudgingly trudged to clean up the mess before the water could stain or damage any of his work.

After mopping up the water, he flipped through his drawings to check if any of it ruined the paper. One of the sketchbooks was relatively new, but nearly full of pencil and ink sketches. Of you.

Most of them took up an entire page of their own. They were innocent, somewhat, just candids that he’d done while or after hanging out with you. You smiling, laughing, playing the violin, biting your lip awkwardly. Gorgeous and sweet.

There were some other ones, smaller in comparison to the rest and done with a light hand. You changing through the window of your room. You bending over at work. You crying to your mom on the phone after you tore your favorite dress right before a date you ended up not going on. Done in a hurry by someone who was sketching without a still reference.

It was not stalking. No, he wasn’t like that. He didn’t threaten you or send you lewd messages. He didn’t get off on scaring you or making you feel unsafe. He wanted you to feel safe around him, did everything in his power to make sure you were always comfortable with him. Plus, he never invaded your privacy, he just looked. Watched. It was friendly, protective even.

Plus, those sketches were nothing compared to the rest. Small enough for three separate drawings to fit on a page, and darkly filled in with a heavy and rough hand.

It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He was a guy. You were his crush. He couldn’t control his own thoughts, let alone his dreams. It happened, and it was completely normal and natural. Not at all creepy or perverted.

He dreamt of you often. He couldn’t keep his mind off you even in his sleep. Of course, his unconscious mind was different than his conscious mind. Mostly, anyway. A lot more eager for you, hungry for you.

The pencil drawings were of you as you appeared to him in his dreams. Bent over his desk, wearing a string of pearls and a sultry smile. You, on his bed with your legs spread out invitingly, your fingers scissoring your slick folds. There was even one featuring him, his lower face dripping with drool and your arousal as his tongue delved into your wet heat from under you. That one was his favorite, even if the drawing itself wasn’t exactly his best work skill-wise. He had a hard time balancing the pad with only one hand, which he was also using to draw.

Dalton sighed and picked up all of the sketch pads, putting them back where they were and collapsing on his back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he should bring up your roommate leaving and confront you about not telling him. You must have had a good reason, right? It’s not like you were getting tired of him or anything. Right?

As he drifted further and further into his thoughts, the room became darker around him. Standing up to fix his lamp, he caught the sight of himself sleeping in his peripheral. He’d fallen asleep and accidentally projected.

He didn’t do so often anymore, the Further was a scary and dangerous place and he was cautious of bringing something back with him. But it had its advantages, for pranks or finding out things that others couldn’t. Surprisingly, he’d never used his ability to watch you. You were too pure and beautiful to see through the lenses of the Further, he liked seeing you surrounded by light and color, with no potential of evil spirits ruining the experience for him.

But just this once…

No! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

You trusted him, it would be so easy. And it’s not like he was trying to be a weirdo, he just wanted to see if you had plans that weekend without having to actually ask you. It would only be once, for a few minutes. He wouldn’t mess with you or your things. He would just listen in and leave.

He grabbed the lantern and walked out of his room. He could’ve found your dorm with his eyes closed, but since it was in a different building and he was traveling through the Further, it took him longer than he would’ve liked. But at least he didn’t encounter anyone. You lived on the second floor of your dorm house and yours was nicer and more expensive than his. You had your own bedroom and personal bathroom, not having to share with your roommate and the rest of your floor like Dalton did.

Your door was unlocked and after he entered your dorm, he locked it himself, knowing he’d have to unlock again it in order to leave. Your bedroom door was open and he could see you through it, sitting at your desk and typing on your phone. Silently and curiously, he peered over your shoulder to watch you text your roommate.

He rolled his eyes at seeing her contact but ignored it in favor of the messages being sent. Mostly average, just you being your considerate self and asking about her trip home. She, obviously, sent paragraph after paragraph detailing every insignificant second of her weekend away, not once asking anything about you. The entire conversation revolves around her and Dalton had to bite his tongue to avoid scoffing in your ear, which was inches from his mouth.

Finally she asked about you, specifically your plans for while she was gone. Luckily, she could serve a purpose for once, Dalton thought.

You mentioned work, homework and just relaxing and Dalton was tempted to leave and rid himself of his craving to kiss you. Then, he saw you type his name. You wanted to surprise him by inviting him over for a sleepover. Your roommate responded by teasing you about you and Dalton finally progressing to the next stage in your friendship; a relationship.

Huh, maybe your roommate wasn’t as bad as Dalton thought she was.

Dalton’s heart was racing as he continued to read all of your roommate’s suggestions for extremely sexual twists on common sleepover activities, all in order to seduce him. You didn’t have to try to seduce him, but trying any one of these wouldn’t hurt. He felt his cock hardening in his pants and knew that he probably should’ve left. Like, now.

But then you sighed loudly into the empty air. Your head dropped back, your lips parted and you shifted awkwardly in your seat, your thighs pressing together tightly. Dalton felt his mouth water just watching you and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He decided that he would wait until you either went to the bathroom or fell asleep. If he tried leaving before then, you might catch him.

So he stood off to the side and simply observed you from up close. You seemed more deflated when you weren’t around him, less animated and poise. Less…cheery. You continued to stay at your desk texting your roommate for a while before getting up for a glass of water. It seems like she was going to bed. You paced around the kitchen as you sipped your drink, looking slightly anxious about how the conversation ended. Dalton regretted not reading it along with you and now he couldn’t because your phone was off and locked.

Huffing out a tense laugh to yourself, you marched back into your room, passing Dalton to get to your phone. You continued pacing as you opened up your messages and scrolled until you found a particular contact, hesitating for a moment and then opening the chat thread. Dalton stood in front of you this time and read his own name from upside down. Why were you pausing when it came to texting him? Did this happen often? We’re you inviting him over?

He watched you type out a greeting and began pacing in your room. When the message delivered, Dalton panicked before remembering that his phone was next to his actual body. You wouldn’t catch him over his phone notifications sounding off in your otherwise silent room.

You turned off your phone and sat on your bed, your back straight and your eyes staring out into nothingness. Your leg bounced erratically and you started checking your phone every thirty seconds in case you missed his message. You were waiting for a response from him, Dalton realized. And he couldn’t do that while he was standing here with you.

Now was definitely the time to go and you gave him the perfect opportunity when you started collecting your things to take a shower, muttering to yourself about how desperate you were. It was clear that you were agitated from waiting on his message, and he supposed it was because he hardly ever took more than 20 seconds to start typing back. He only took long if he was busy, and he would always tell you beforehand if he was.

As much as he wanted to watch you undress yourself and shower, becoming aroused slightly once more at the idea, he wouldn’t cross that boundary when you were so vulnerable and unaware. It was completely different from the times he watched you change your shirt or remove your bra from outside your window. He was in your home and you were going to be completely naked. Dalton wanted go reserve that honor for when you would strip in front of him eagerly, at least for the first time he ever saw you naked.

*~*~*

Gasping, Dalton sat up in his own bed, his erection pressing against his sweats and his body feeling sweaty. He immediately opened his messages and read your message asking him what he was doing. Getting his own clothing, he walked to the common bathroom in his dorm house and stripped, sending you a picture of his shower stall with the reflection of his bare torso halfway in the frame.

He’d never been so forward with you before. You’d seen him shirtless on occasion, he wasn’t shy about his body, but never on purpose and he hardly ever sent you pictures instead of just telling you what he was doing. But now that he knew you felt the same way he did, he felt confident enough to give actual signals to tell you that.

He turned on the shower and waited for the ancient water settings to actually heat up the water. As he was about to step in, you messaged him back with a photo of your own.

You were wearing nothing but a robe, tied at the waist, but doing a very poor job at concealing your cleavage, and your hair was soaked. The mirror that you had taken the picture in was fogged and he could see streams of steam swirling in the air around your head. So you liked really hot showers, fuck, that was attractive to him. You smiled shyly into the camera with one of your hands clutching a towel in your hands.

You: “I just got out of the shower, how funny is that?”

God, you were adorable without even trying. He wondered if the placement of your robe was intentional or if you were just that sexy without trying to be. It could go either way, you were as effortlessly cunning as you were absurdly oblivious to your affect on others.

He quickly went through his shower routine quickly, not taking his time to enjoy the water and relax like he usually did. He didn’t want to keep you waiting again. He decided to toe the line of flirtation and idle conversation once more by sending you another photo. This time following your lead with a mirror pic. He was still shirtless and brushing his teeth with an overly wide and sud-filled smile. His shorts hung low on his hips and his entire frame was centered in the photo this time.

D: “What’s up?”

It was a lame line, but he wanted to keep the conversation going and see if you were going to invite him over. He spit out his toothpaste and gargled mouthwash, accidentally swallowing some as you replied back. Coughing at the strong taste burning his throat, his eyes widened as he memorized every pixel of the photo you sent, catching on to his little provocation.

The mirror in your bathroom was still slightly fogged but he could clearly see that all you were wearing was a t-shirt. It was big enough to cover your thighs, so Dalton didn’t know what you were wearing under it and he could see your nipples poking through the material ever so slightly. He dragged his lip into his mouth and bit down hard, hand clenching on the edge of the counter. He gathered his shower stuff and walked back to his room, keeping his towel gathered in a ball in front of his crotch in case he ran into anyone this late.

It didn’t occur to him to read the message you sent until he was about to send one himself. He was so distracted by your selfie that he completely forgot that he was in the middle of a conversation with you. He wondered if it was weird to be more turned on by you in your pajamas than you soaking wet and in a towel.

You: “Nothing much? What are you doing right now?”

He sat down on his art stool, and angled the camera at the mirror that sat in the corner between his spare bed and the wall. He hadn’t gotten the motivation to actually put it up so it laid on its side and only showed from his waist down at this angle. The picture showed his bare stomach, shorts and legs, with one of his feet braced up on the leg of his seat.

D: “Chilling in my room now, you?”

You responded a minute later in much the same fashion. This photo didn’t show your face either, but he could see your hair and the junction between your neck and shoulder at the top of the photo. You were stretched out on your bed, your legs propped up in front of you and you holding the weight of your upper body on your other arm as you snapped a photo of yourself. From the way your shirt rode up on your thighs, you weren’t wearing any shorts, but he couldn’t see your underwear.

You: “Same. My roommate left to her parents’ house so I have the place to myself.”

Was this your way of implying that you wanted him to come over? How does he respond to that information without sounding weird or letting on that he’d already known? Should he tell you that he already knew? He decided that now was the perfect time to reorganize his desk and actually put up the mirror in his room. It took fifteen minutes for him to respond and the guilt ate at him now that he knew how you reacted when he didn’t message back quickly.

D: “Oh, really? Yeah, I kinda always have my place to myself, haha :)Look what I finally did.”

The added “haha” looked so stupid that he wanted to jump out his window. He hoped the selfie he sent to you would make up for it. He was standing in front of his mirror, acting as if he was only trying to show you the mirror you’d been bugging him about putting up. He was still shirtless and a light sheen of sweat made his body glow slightly from the exertion of his impromptu redecorating. He angled his phone to show a grin, but the rest of his face was covered.

You took a few minutes to respond yourself and Dalton thought he understood your anxiety about having to wait for messages. He felt the anxiety was all the more potent now that you were sending each other photos of yourselves. But he couldn’t deny that he liked the tension, the anticipation ate him up and he was beyond keyed up.

You: “I got bored being here by myself so I’m doing my makeup :p”

You: “Oml, finally!”

You were kneeling in front of the camera with your legs slightly spread. The lighting in your room made it hard for him to see what your underwear looked like and he felt like a pervert for being disappointed. Probably not as bad as he would’ve felt before he knew that you reciprocated his feelings. Your hair was put up into an updo so it was out of your face and it reminded him of that Pamela Anderson hairdo that you complained about not being able to do. You looked beautiful, your makeup was darker than you normally had it, more like dark seduction than pretty fairy. Dalton wondered if that was on purpose.

He sent you a closeup selfie of half of his face, his eyes mostly angled down at the phone screen instead of the actual camera and a slight smirk on his lips. His neck, collarbones and one of his shoulders were on display for you as well

D: “Guess I got bored too. Your hair looks like Pamela Anderson’s, btw”

D: “I like your makeup, it looks good!”

You responded quickly and without a photo.

You: “Are you joking me?! The one time I’m not bending over backwards trying to do it right…”

Dalton had to take a minute to recover from the mental image of you bending over backwards, particularly the image of how your breasts would look at that angle when your next message came in with another photo.

You: “Come over?”

This time, your phone was placed close to the floor and angled up for Dalton to see your knees pulled up to your chest and you dramatically and exaggeratedly pouted at the camera, your dark red lips shining in the camera flash. The flash also, probably unintentionally, highlighted the junction between your legs and he could actually see your panties this time. White lace. Son of a bitch!

Instead of responding, he jumped around his room and tried to gather all of his shit to take to your place and was pulling up his jacket when he noticed some papers on his bed. His homework that he had told Chris about earlier and completely forgot about. It was due at midnight and his teacher was a hardass about homework.

“Fuck!” His curse echoed loudly in his empty and otherwise silent room and he slammed his things down on the bed in anger.

As desperate as he was to go to your room and potentially spend the night inside you, he was stuck inside his dorm unless he wanted his grade to tank. With a heavy heart and tense motions, he sat in his chair, a different one from his stool, and faced his mirror. He spread his legs so that he was man-spreading and propped a leg up on the edge of his bed. He held up his homework in one hand above his head and made a faux-angry face at the camera, his expression not even making at dent when it came to showing just how angry he actually was. He gave himself a minute of fantasizing about your lips kissing marks all over his body before snapping the picture and sending it to you.

D: “I was on my way when I remembered I had homework. Fucking sucks! Raincheck? I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning?”

He ordinarily didn’t curse over text, or in general. He wasn’t a prude about swearing, but he just didn’t feel the need to do it. However, he also needed you to understand that he wasn’t blowing you off, and then he genuinely was upset about not being able to spend the night with you. He felt it was probably too risky sending you a picture where he was very obviously at half-mast and worried that he was being too forward and would make you uncomfortable.

Two minutes of complete agony imagining all of the ways that you would dismiss him and tell him to forget about it, or get angry and misinterpret what he was telling you. Now that the conversation couldn’t go anywhere, the anticipation wasn’t alluring and fun, it felt like acid burning his skin.

You: “Oh, please do your homework! Grades are important. Breakfast sounds good! Goodnight x”

A kiss, you messaged him a kiss. And you were completely fine with it. For the first time in his life, Dalton felt the urge to do a chest bump with a bro. He was on top of the world right now. He was tempted to rush his homework and run over to you as soon as possible, but as soon as he sat down to do it, he knew that the assignment required all of his time and attention. Fortunately, the assignment itself was relatively simple, but it was incredibly time consuming, which is why he’d been putting it off.

Two hours later, he took some pictures of his completed homework and sent them to his professor’s email. It was fifteen minutes til midnight and he wondered if he should risk going over to you now. You weren’t expecting him, though, and for all he knew, you were asleep or something. He debated texting you that he was done and seeing if you’d extend the invitation to come over again, but you hadn’t even brought up his last picture and that made him a bit insecure. What if you were trying to just ignore it as a way to say you weren’t interested? Even back in your room, when your roommate was encouraging you to take advantage of having your dorm to yourself, you had only denied all of her sexual innuendos. He knew you liked him back, but maybe sending you a picture of like the one he sent was too much too fast?

Oh yeah, astral projector. He could always just pop in and check without actually having to check. It was fine the first time, right? No big deal anymore. He wasn’t hurting anyone.

He relaxed on his bed and before long, he was picking up that lantern once more and leaving his body behind, making sure that all of his lights were on to protect his body before he left the room.

You had been in your room with your door mostly closed when he came in again. You really should make sure your front door was locked, he thought. He heard little whimpers coming from your room and was immediately concerned, automatically assuming that you were crying. Your bedroom door was swaying on account of the industrial fan that you insisted was the only thing strong enough to keep you cool at night. He had no problem opening your door and putting it back in place, making it look completely natural in case you noticed.

From what he could see, you were looking at your phone and were mostly covered by your blanket. Only one of your hands was holding your phone, which Dalton found odd because you normally preferred using both hands. Finally seeing your face, Dalton noticed that you had no tears on your cheeks or in your eyes. You weren’t crying. What the hell were you looking at on your phone?

Him. You were looking at a picture of Dalton that he’d sent to you. More accurately, you were looking at the second photo he had sent you, the one where he was brushing his teeth. It took Dalton several moments to begin thinking again to put the dots together.

Oh. Oh.

Just as Dalton registered what you were actually doing, you threw your blanket aside in frustration and essentially showed him that he was correct. He watched in rapt fascination as you rubbed your clothed center over your panties with two fingers. You kept focused on your phone, swiping over to the photo of him after he hung up his mirror, as your index fingers slipped beneath your lacy white underwear and into your slick heat. Your breathing was loud and shallow, the occasional moan slipping through as you touched yourself.

Dalton should not be here. He knew that. He knew what was and what wasn’t appropriate, his mom made sure he knew how to respect women, so he knew what he was doing was the furthest thing from okay. He also knew that he would have to be dragged by his teeth to get him out of your room. His cock swelled and twitched from under his shorts as he stood over, watching you masturbate to a picture of him. In the low lighting of your mostly dark room, he could see the shine of your wetness on your fingers and over your folds. He wanted to drag his tongue over your labia and savor every drop you gave him. It was all for him, after all, he was entitled to it.

You groaned in annoyance through your teeth and yanked your panties down your legs. Dalton’s severely dilated gaze zeroed in on them and he made a mental note to grab them before he left when your shirt joined it in the floor. You were completely nude and sitting up on your bed, in a very similar position to the photo where you had shown him your makeup. He’d never look at it again without thinking of this. He wished he had a picture of this.

You looked like a goddess or some kind of celestial siren as you arched your back and groped at one of your breasts and toyed with your clit. The chill of your room and the sudden banishment of your blanket had your flesh covered in goosebumps and your nipples hard. Dalton wanted nothing more than to cover your body with his and discover new forms of pleasure using his tongue, hands and cock. You were everything, you surrounded him and took up so much everything. And yet, he wasn’t actually with you, no matter how much he wished he could be. He didn’t know why he couldn’t try, you were his now. You admitted to it. Maybe not to him directly, and maybe you didn’t know he was there, but it didn’t make it any less true.

Dalton approached your bed and was about to rest his weight on it when you grabbed a decorative throw pillow from the mountain of pillows you had on your bed. You shoved it between your legs and adjusted it so that the woven seams pressed between your folds. You rested your weight on it and rolled your hips experimentally to find a rhythm and angle that felt best. Soon, you were panting and gasping, and Dalton could barely hear you over the stupid fan.

As you rode the pillow, Dalton lost his restraint. He either had to take care of himself now and fully condemn himself as an actual peeping tom and a pervert, or take care of you and risk you freaking out and losing you before he could actually have you. He’d rather hate himself for a little while than you hate him forever. He reached into his shorts, cupping his erection and squeezing lightly. He bit his lips and tried to keep quiet. He didn’t think he would last long, and he didn’t really care to either. He’d worry about that once he was actually inside you.

Dalton started off with slow and trading strokes before working up to the rhythm you set for yourself. You were grinding down on the pillow with slow and long thrusts, lowering your body slightly so that the seam of the pillow rubbed your clit. Dalton imagined his face replacing the pillow and started speeding up the movements of his hand, spitting on himself to help his hand move more fluidly along his shaft. Coincidentally, you started to quicken as well, humping the pillow desperately instead of steadily rolling your hips.

“Dalton! Oh…fuck! Daltonnn…” you cried out softly into the seemingly empty room. As the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, you lost strength in your arms and fell to the mattress, your hips still moving rhythmically as you came. Your limbs felt electrocuted and twitchy, and you could do nothing but gasp and whimper as you came down from your high. Rolling over, you reached down and caressed your soaked folds, moaning softly as your fingers became coated in the stringy remnants of your wetness.

Dalton nearly fell to his knees in his desire to suck your fingers into his mouth and devour your cunt. Luckily, he managed to stay upright and went rigid as he came in his hands, making sure the pearly white spurts of semen didn’t make a mess anywhere in your room, if they could. He wasn’t actually entirely sure how it all worked when he was in this state, but he wasn’t going to risk it.

He waited until you fell asleep to grab your panties and leave your dorm, falling back into his own body and finding it a mess. His shorts were soaked at the crotch with his cum because his actual hands couldn’t stop his real orgasm from staining his clothes. He tore off his shorts and decided to sleep naked, hiding your panties in his pillow case.

*~*~*

You woke up refreshed and well-rested the next morning, still not used to the stillness and quiet in the absence of your roommate, Carla. Usually, she was up by now blaring metal music while she got ready for the day and you would make the two of you breakfast. You went to do just that when you heard a knock at your door and remembered that Dalton was supposed to come over with breakfast.

You told him to wait through a text message and grabbed a pair of athletic shorts, yanking them on as you made your way to let him in. Much to your surprise, the door was unlocked, though you don’t remember leaving it that way. In all fairness, you also don’t remember the last time you had locked it, so it was fair game.

Dalton greeted you with a large smile, showing off his extended canines, and a bag from your favorite pastry shop. It was hard not to blush after what you did when you saw the pictures he sent you, but the food was also distracting. You excitedly took the bag from him and started rifling through it as he guided the both of you to your room. Had he ever been inside your dorm before? How did he know which room was yours?

Before you could ask him, he plopped himself onto your bed and settled onto his stomach. He then used a pillow to prop up his chin. The same pillow you had used last night.

There was something about the way he was smiling at you. The way he was watching you.

“So, did you sleep well last night?”

********

Lemme know if you want a part two or maybe a “What if Dalton hadn’t had any homework?” situation.

This was super fun and sorry if it’s too long

---