angel-fics

Latest Posts by angel-fics

learn how to put your fics under a read more. no one looking through tags on this site wants to scroll through 20 pages worth of your self indulgence

i don’t know how. dick

Emmett Cullen would never fully understand how truly strong he was. He didn’t when he was a human and he sure as shit didn’t now that he was a vampire. He did, however, understand very well just how fragile certain things were. He knew to be careful with certain things.

He knew to not break the glass samples Esme had of expensive tiling when handing them to her. He knew not to squeeze the screws cupped in his hand as he watched Rosalie work on a new vehicle. Even after many incidents ending in violence, Emmett was very careful with anything that belonged to Alice.

Most importantly, at least lately, he knew to be careful with Bella.

His little sister. Sweet, accepting, hilarious at times. Pregnant, but his brother, with a child that was quite literally feeding off her life force.

Before all of this, he’d been careful with the small brunette, of course. For Edward’s sake. Then eventually, he grew quite fond of the clumsy girl. Bella had a unique sense of humor and a perspective that his family lost long ago. She was a breath of fresh air. And it helped tremendously that her tendency to accidentally hurt herself was endlessly entertaining. He didn’t mind being more careful if it meant having Bella around more.

Jasper on the other hand, was really over-aware of his strength and of Bella delicacy. A touch too cautious, the blond vampire worried that a strong enough breath would blow the young woman over. Not that he wasn’t happy for his adopted brother, but Bella was a polite and courteous stream of never-ending anxiety for Jasper.

His fears proved valid as Bella’s stomach bulged and her face hallowed and her eyes lost their sparkle by the day. She truly looked as though a breath might take her out. In Jasper’s mind, Bella was an ancient and tragic painting who’s beauty was lost to the ages: He saw her mortality differently as her time dwindled down to the due date of the unborn child within her.

As such, the brothers had a hard time being around their sister-in-law. The looming threat of the shapeshifters gave them a good excuse to stay away, but she was never far from their thoughts. The whole situation was depressing, which Emmett had never really experienced and Jasper was all to eager to not have to deal with.

“I’m so thirsty,” Emmett mumbled from his perch. He sat in a tree in the south-east corner of the house, diligently watching the tree-line.

“So is everyone else, shut up and wait your turn,” Edward hissed, slapping another book closed, its information on hybrid children was useless.

“Edward,” Esme chided gently. “You and Alice will be going when Rosalie and your father come home. It’ll be good for her to get away for a moment.”

Alice hummed her appreciation around the headache her gift was causing her.

They all winced as Bella groaned at the baby shifting inside her. Jasper tried his hardest not to pay attention to the wet sucking sound of blood coming up the straw as Bella attempted to calm the child. He felt so useless. It was his job to protect this family and all of its members and yet everyone was starving, and his new sister was slowly but steadily wasting away before his very eyes. Jasper had never grieved a human like this before and she wasn’t even dead. Yet.

“Jazz, you alright man?” He hardly even clocked Emmett’s hulking frame as he joined him from his stance atop the roof.

“She barely joined our family, and all this…” Jasper didn’t finish his sentence but he knew Edward heard the words none of them dared speak aloud.

“All of you need to stop. The baby, and Bella, will be fine. She’s far from the first mother who’s had a complicated pregnancy,” Rosalie warned as she and Carlisle stealthily rejoined the family.

Jasper held his tongue and let himself be washed away in Bella’s relief and happiness to see Rosalie. He loved how positive she was despite everything she was going through. It made him marginally more hopeful.

“And it might help a bit to be a little less glum around her. You don’t think she picks up on it, but she does,” Rosalie added too quickly and quietly for Bella’s human ears to pick up on.

Emmett heaved a big sigh and began dragging Jasper towards where Bella was surrounded by a mountain of blankets and the fast talking space heater named Jacob.

“Hey Bella-bear, what’s shakin’?” Emmett greeted as merrily as he could manage. Bella smiled with blood-stained teeth and the skin sagged a bit spring her mouth, but she seemed happy enough to see them.

“He is, on my bladder,” Bella jokes, gesturing to her distended tummy. They all let out a small chuckle for her efforts and tried not to look at her mottled flesh.

“He? Are you that sure it’s a boy? Maybe it’ll be a little miss?” Jasper adds from the corner he’s standing in.

Bella flushes a pretty, almost healthy pink and cradles her belly lovingly. “Before I knew, I had dreams of a beautiful baby boy, I can’t see him any other way.”

Emmett grinned and clapped his hands together loudly. “I agree, maybe I’ll finally have a version of Edward that’s fun to play with.”

Jacob snickered from his spot at Bella’s side and gently avoided the elbow she threw into his ribs.

“So what? You think Rose will let you toss around Edward Junior? Yeah, right!” Jasper jested, coming forward to sit on the floor near Bella’s feet.

“Certainly not!” Rosalie confirmed, cradling Bella’s small frame away from Emmett.

“Wait. Is that seriously going to be his name? Edward Junior?” Jacob snorted.

Bella blushed with embarrassment and Jasper could practically see smoke coming out of Rosalie’s ears as she glared at Jacob.

“Actually,” Bella began softly, “I was thinking of you too. EJ. Edward Jacob.” She smiled at her stomach and they all knew she was quite attached to the name already.

“Lame.”

All their heads whipped to Emmett who was smirking with humor. No one else looked amused, with Rosalie looking almost murderously at her husband.

“Why give him the names of two wimps when you could use the names of his totally cool uncles. Emmett and Jazz-man? See? It fits so much better,” Emmett reasoned as if talking to a child.

“I’m not naming my son ‘Jazz-man’,” Bella refused. Jasper nodded in agreement form the floor.

“Yes, I concur. Jasper is a fine name for a man without you butchering it.”

Emmett gasped in shock and held a hand to his chest mockingly. “I put so much effort into creating a namesake and this is the thanks I get? For shame, family, for shame.”

Bella giggled lightly at his antics and they all collectively smiled at her good mood. Jasper felt the baby’s happiness at hearing Bella’s laugh and felt his whole being shift into a lighter atmosphere.

He reached out to Bella and silently offered to read the baby. Her eyes gleamed in delight and she nodded eagerly, watching her stomach as if she could somehow see her son.

Her belly was almost as cool as his skin and significantly harder than a normal human’s, but Jasper still felt the hum of life within. He leaned in close so that the boy could hear him, too.

“How does it sound, Edward Jacob? You like it?” Jasper shared a feeling of brief amusement followed by rejection to everyone in the room and they all laughed along with the baby.

“See? He likes Emmett Jasper wayyyy better, Bells!” Emmett exclaimed heartily. The baby was feeling something that felt like laughter and Jasper could almost clearly imagine the cherub cheeked smile that matched Bella’s giggling along.

Bella shook her head while chuckling, the precious sound echoing in the large house.

“It is more modern,” Rosalie conceded to everyone’s surprise. “And the baby seems to like it.”

“He likes hearing Bella laugh,” Jasper corrected, picking up on the baby’s delight.

“And she laughs at you two doing stupid shit. Emmett Jasper is the perfect name for him,” Rosalie argued.

“How about we all just call him EJ and make a schedule? He can be Emmett Jasper every other week?” Esme suggested jokingly.

Emmett shook his head. “Absolutely not. Emmett Jasper or bust!”

He dramatically kneeled at Bella’s feet, clasping her small hand his humongous one. “Please, Bella, if you love your big brothers, you’ll do us the honor of giving your son a much cooler name.”

Emmett threw an arm around Jasper’s shoulder and pouted stupidly at the mahogany-haired girl. Jasper very pointedly does not pout, but he had to admit it himself that it would be nice to have his nephew named after him. He smiled encouragingly at Bella.

Said girl was watching the ceiling with humor, unable to believe the turn her evening took.

Smiling widely enough to dazzle, she agreed, “Fine. Baby Cullen will henceforth be known as EJ, Emmett Jasper.”

can we all agree that if emmett and jasper weren’t so depressed about bella drinking all the blood in the house, they would have convinced her that ej was a great name for a boy but it should stand for emmett jasper not edward jacob.

---

I’m gonna write a blurb based on this, just letting yall know

can we all agree that if emmett and jasper weren’t so depressed about bella drinking all the blood in the house, they would have convinced her that ej was a great name for a boy but it should stand for emmett jasper not edward jacob.

---

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.

---

Horizon (Twilight Saga AU)

God, I completely changed everything.

Chapters Pending

Things I changed from the original so y'all can decide if y'all wanna read it:

Bella is a lot more...energetic (eccentric) and interesting (insane) in my version. (this entire version was heavily inspired by @divyasoup 's twilight meme of Bella in place of IASIP!Charlie in front of the conspiracy board. it was beautiful)

Her and Rosalie have much better relationship, it's more defender/defendee. They bond over the fact that Rosalie has always wanted a child and Bella never was one (I love Charlie, but him and Renee spent the entirety of Bella's childhood treating her like an adult) (also I need to clarify that Rosalie does not treat Bella like a child because Bella is not a child. She simply is always on Bella's side and tries to take care of her. Bella has canonically always wanted someone to actually take care of her.)

HEAR ME OUT HOTTAKE: Instead of Edward, Bella will be paired with Jasper. And their trope with be tolerant frenemies- to friends - to lovers.

Jacob and Bella are chaotic!elder sister and annoying little brother. There will be no dumbass, inane love triangle. The tribe's stories are taken seriously and Jacob knows he's the future alpha. Charlie and Bella are aware of the tribal laws and stories.

The Cullens pay "mortgage" to the rez in exchange for the wolves allowing them to live in Forks. This funds schools, hospitals, and recreational facilities. They aren't close though.

Emmett goes nuts about Bella (chaos twins is a recurring theme because it's my favorite headcanon)

ANYWAYS, my retelling is funny, and emotional and I think it'll be enjoyable for a pretty niche audience.

---

Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. 🕊️🇵🇸

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

THIS IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT AND FOLLOWER OR NOT, IT MUST BE READ! PLEASE DONATE OR SHARE OR REPOST THIS IF YOU CAN! PALESTINIAN FAMILIES ARE IN DANGER AND NEED SUPPORT OF ANY KIND

---

If it's okay can I please ask what animes you write for

Oh, love, it’s more than okay!😊 I write for MHA (not a huge fan of the fandom or the fanon version of the characters) Haikyuu!, FREE!, Jujutsu Kaisen, AOT, OHHC…

There’s more but currently I can’t think of any. If you have any requests, just lemme know, ‘kay?

---

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

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

Infectious Material

---

need a part two! tag me pls! this was such a good read😍

one thing about spencer reid? he’s going to think a pretty girl flirting with him is ‘just being nice’. every. single. time.

it’s beginning to drive the rest of the bau crazy, the way their smartest member is so oblivious to your coquetry. every time you came to visit your brother, hotch, at his job, you made sure you wouldn’t leave until that boy was flushed a nice crimson red that would haunt him for the rest of the day. you knew who you were dealing with, and you were in it for the long haul.

you’ve had a small thing for spencer ever since you first met him, shortly after he joined the team. you and your brother were really close growing up, so it wasn’t unusual for you to stop by after you finished up in your classroom for the day, usually flashing a bright smile and a pink box of donuts. the rest of the team viewed you as their little sister, too, but that small thing you’ve had for spencer had blossomed into a full blown crush.

the members of your brother’s team have become a second family to the both of you, and you were quite aware of spencer’s track record with women- or lack thereof. you couldn’t quite wrap your brain around the fact that nobody’s snatched him up yet, but you couldn’t complain. it was almost too easy to rile him up, to get him flustered, and you took pride in being the one to make him blush.

you made your way through the bullpen, stopping by to see your brother first. as he reached for the box of donuts, you slapped his hand away, causing him to roll his eyes.

“what? you didn’t stop to see boy genius first?” he teased.

“nope,” you replied, popping the p, “just wanted to say hi first. i’ve missed you!” it had been a few weeks since you had last visited your brother and his teammates, and you had missed the feeling of camaraderie that they extended to you.

“i’ve missed you too, kid,” he responded, and after a minute or so of catch up, you saw your brother’s eyes wander above your head, looking out from the window in his office into the bullpen. your gaze followed his, and a smile grew on your face as you saw spencer rush to turn his head back to his desk, desperately hoping you didn’t catch him staring. but you did. you always do.

your brother let you go shortly thereafter, knowing of your very obvious feelings for the agent. plus, he knew nobody was getting a donut until you went and talked to him. you made a point to reserve the privilege of the first pick for spencer only, much to the annoyed endearment of his coworkers.

“hi handsome!” you chirped, setting down the box of donuts on his desk, your free hand coming to rest in his forearm. “first pick for the sweetest guy in the office,” you crooned, batting your lashes as you hopped up to sit on his desk.

“y-you don’t have to give me first pick every time, you know,” he muttered shyly, still reaching out to grab his favorite kind, “not that i don’t appreciate it!” he then rushed out, rambling in the adorable way only spencer can achieve, “i do appreciate it- i mean- you’re so sweet and you look gorgeous today-” he pursed his lips, physically stopping himself from digging a deeper hole. his tomato red face with eyes that were squeezed shut were now turned to the ground.

you smirked. you were an expert at getting him flustered, sure, but he normally always had control over the things he said to you. your heart fluttered at the fact that he couldn’t help but tell you how gorgeous you looked, something he’s never been confident enough to say.

you lifted his chin with two fingers, leaned in so your faces were inches apart, and in your most saccharine tone, replied, “thank you, handsome. you look nice too, is this a new sweater?” you eyed the never before seen cream colored cable knit that adorned his broad chest. you’d never been more thankful for fall weather until this very moment.

“it is, t-thank you for noticing,” he stuttered out, completely frozen in his spot, his head not daring to move away from your touch.

“you’re welcome,” your lilted voice and the removal of your fingers on his face left him hot and cold at the same time. you caught him shuddering as you hopped off his desk and turned to grab the box of donuts, the one he chose earlier was nearly smushed between his hand and his desk, suffering the consequences of what you did to him. “i’m going to go make the rest of the rounds. it was good to see you though, as always.” you smiled before walking away.

you didn’t need to look back to know that he had immediately swiveled his chair in your direction the second you walked away, eyes locked on your retreating figure. check and mate.

you made your way through the rest of the team, receiving hugs from each one of them as they each emptied out the box, one by one. just like you made a point to start with spencer, you also made a point to end with penelope. she was your closest friend on the squad, and seeing her last meant ample gossip time in the privacy of her office.

after you’d gushed to her about every single last detail of your conversation with spencer, you saw a lightbulb appear above penelope’s head.

“oh!” she squealed, hands grabbing your wrist, “we’re all going out tonight, please come with us! i honestly think if you don’t make a move on him soon he’s going to explode,” you two giggled, but a knot was forming in the pit of your stomach.

“i don’t know, nelly,” you said, your turn to be shy now as your gaze focused on her hands in yours. “it’s been fun flirting with him, obviously, but what if that’s all he thinks this is? what if he wants nothing to do with me beyond that? i’d rather be stuck in this limbo with him forever than get rejected and not be able to talk to him.”

“oh hun,” penelope muttered, “i don’t think it’s humanly possible for him to reject you. spencer may be easily flustered, but the way he behaves when you’re around is completely unprecedented, even for him. he’s crazy about you, i promise.”

and with that, you found yourself squished between jj and penelope at the bar, eyes locked on the back of spencer’s head as he ordered something from the bar. all the girls there tonight knew of your mission to finally make a move toward spencer, thanks to penelope. their giddiness made you feel like you were in grade school again, but you would be lying if you said that, plus the free drinks you’ve been getting from the team tonight were instilling you with the exact same excitement.

you’d managed to squeeze your way over to the bar, standing next to him and resting your hand on the small of his back.

“hey spencer,” you said gently as he took a sip of his drink.

“hi! i didn’t know you were coming tonight,” he shot you that gorgeous smile and you were a goner. you knew in that moment that if you didn’t do something soon, you also might explode.

“yeah, penelope convinced me with the allure of free drinks. couldn’t say no,” you smiled, and you naturally stood taller after making him giggle.

a thick silence then fell over the two of you, the liquid courage you’d both been consuming that night along with the fact that you were no longer in a professional setting allowed the both of you to turn toward each other, inching closer ever so slightly.

“listen, spencer,” you said lowly, “i know- i know i flirt with you a lot, and i just wanted to say-” before you could finish, he cut you off.

“oh! oh no, you don’t- you don’t have to say anything, i get it. it’s just flirting and that’s fine, there’s no need for a formal rejection, don’t feel like you have to let me down easy or anything,” his rambling came out a bit slurred, and it dawned on you that you’d underestimated how much he had to drink so far.

your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped, and you wondered if you heard him correctly. he thought you were just flirting? he really thought that’s all this was this whole time? your thought process was interrupted by the sight of his back now facing you, walking back to the table of detectives. it was then you realized in your state of shock, you never said anything back to him. your stomach dropped and you wondered if it was biologically possible for your heart to literally break into a million pieces inside your chest. after all this time, you’d blown it with spencer reid.

penelope saw him walk back to the bar alone, and quickly clocked your expression from the other side of the bar. she shot you a quizzical look and you couldn’t bear to even think about what just happened. you simply turned, grabbed your bag, and walked out of the bar. you didn’t bother to say goodbye, too humiliated to go face the table with spencer there, but you knew they all cared about you too much to let you leave just like that.

as if she could read your mind, you heard the clicking of penelope’s heels approach you from behind, and you sighed. you slowly turned to face her, and her face softened seeing the mascara black tears that were now streaking down your face.

“oh honey, what happened?” she asked, taking your hands.

you shook your head, more tears falling at a rapid pace. “it’s just not going to happen, penelope. i’ll be okay, don’t worry about me,” you tried to downplay the situation as you saw your uber approaching, desperate to rid yourself of this night altogether.

“first of all, it’s not possible for me to not worry about you. second of all, would you like me to come home with you? i don’t mind, if you want some company,” penelope responded.

“no, that’s okay,” you shook your head, “thank you though. you’re the best, but i just kind of want to be alone right now,” you nearly whimpered, more tears falling off your jaw and hitting the ground.

“okay, i’ll let your brother know where you went. text me when you get home, okay?” penelope said as you went to get into the car.

“i will, thank you,” you gave her the biggest smile you could muster, which, albeit, was barely an uptick of your top lip.

you rested your head against the window and shut your eyes. after so much time, you genuinely had no idea where to start with getting over spencer reid.

---

bro??

Ty Simpkins has a gf?

OH MY GOD, i mean, im devastated (dw also happy for him)

but why tf did he announce her that way?!

---

forever samblogging like my life depends on it

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when she says she doesn’t send nudes

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!

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i heard that stephanie never intended to make jacob a love interest. he was actually not supposed to appear as a minor character who had a crush on bella. she intended him as a background character to further the plot of bella finding out about vampires.

but her publishers liked the idea of a love triangle and hated how she originally wrote Breaking Dawn to directly follow after Twilight.

So basically, we had to suffer through Eclipse!Jacob because Stephanie Meyer can’t make reasonable relationship timelines or write smut for shit.

I love how they tried so hard to get us to fight over Team Jacob vs Team Edward

Bella was never gonna choose Jacob. She was OBSESSED with Edward lmao

Like I'm a Jacob lover and I never ever thought it would be him. Miss Bella was insane for the dead guy.

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(Blurb idea, or just something you can react too<33)

I can't explain it, but I feel like Dalton is one out of two types of the following:

Sending the cutest, most wholesome meme and attaching a simple “Us” at the end. (Like a black cat and an orange cat cuddling <3)

Or

Sending the most foul, cringy, floptok type of meme and attaching a simple "Us" at the end. (Like two cockroaches smoking a joint or something 💀💀)

OMG, I love this and I love you!

You were miserable, laying in bed and recovering from a wicked cold. You didn’t usually get sick, but when you did, it was the most cliche and Hollywood type of sickness. Most of the time, it took almost no effort to power through it, but not this time.

Dalton had spent the day messaging you cheeky compliments and well-wishes. Much to his chagrin, you forbade him from actually visiting you, so he bombarded you all day, as per his metaphorical “boyfriend duties.”

He was honestly keeping you from actually resting, but you’d never tell the sweet boy that. He was being so earnest and you could tell that he was hopeful that you would feel better soon.

You smiled at every notification, then winced at the pain it caused your head. You sniffled and groaned at the ache in your throat from swallowing. Being in bed and cuddling with Dalton sounded perfect right now, but you wouldn’t risk getting him sick.

In a way, his messages made you feel worse; you missed him even more with every text. You were tired, ache-y, stuffy, and devoid of your boyfriend’s company.

It had been nearly half an hour since Dalton had messaged you and you managed a short nap. Your throat felt dry, but stung considerably less. It felt like you were actually getting over it, fortunately.

Your phone pinged and you made use of your newly healed throat to laugh loudly at the picture that he delivered. It was a meme of a boy following around a girl while loudly playing a horn instrument in her ear. Words were typed on both the boy and girl, plus streaming out the instrument. The boy had the word “Me” spelt out over him and the girl had the word “You” spelt over her. The words “My love for you” were surrounded by various heart emojis and aimed at the girl.

Under the picture, Dalton typed out a simple, “Us:)”

The message was time stamped at the moment you’d fallen asleep and you couldn’t help but think that maybe Dalton had managed to actually make you better.

---

So I didn’t understand how this worked before, so lemme try again. Also, thank you so much for tagging me

Last Song I listened to: Baby, I’m Yours (The Arctic Monkeys Cover)

Currently (re) watching: Supernatural

Currently Reading: A Million Junes (plus a bunch of other fanfic)

Current Obsession: Dalton Lambert, Supernatural and The Lost Boys (want to write for all three so send requests)

Tags I’d like to get to know better:

@purplevioletshoes

@brookediamonds

@explosiongamora

@elizabe-thh

@nyx22-blogs

@flaminghotcheetoos

9 people you would like to know better.

Last song: I still believe from the Lost Boys soundtrack. Recently watched the movie and have grown obsessed.

Currently watching: mainly movies like The Lost Boys and The Proposal.

Currently Reading: about to start the icebreaker by Hannah Grace. Also Reading a lot of fanfiction for shows like Teen Wolf and Ted Lasso.

Current Obsession: The Lost Boys but it does changes like every week 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

Tagging people I'd like to know better;

@hopefulromances @darklydeliciousdesires @drabbles-mc @fanficimagery @britany1997 @blueicequeen19 @its-time-to-write

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gonna try to post consistently, but i like just ran away from home so

might take a while

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bae I love your writing 🫶🫶. one of the best writers I’ve seen mwah

AHHH! thank you so much, I really appreciate it

if you have any requests, just lemme know 💋

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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

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

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ALL MEDIA I USE IN MY POSTS IS NOT CREATED BY ME. I SEARCH IT UP ON GOOGLE AND PINTEREST AND ALL CREDIT GOES TO THOSE TALENTED CREATORS

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pls if you can do a part 2 pf the dalton fic!!

Just posted rn, I would link it but idk how to do that from my phone, but it’s up close on my page🫶😊

no no no i NEED a pt 2 for ‘In The Room Where You Sleep’ it was a work of art 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

It Will Come Back (part II to “In The Room Where You Sleep”)

Summary: After accidentally giving Dalton a free show, you decide to take a step back from your friendship with him. Dalton does not take kindly to that.

Warnings: Dalton being extra creepy, stalking, murderous intent, reader feeling unsafe, reader’s conflicting emotions, unhealthy responses to being caught masturbating, unsafe sex (wrap before you tap, folks), rough sex, penetrative sex, cream pie, implications of a breeding kink, suggestive comments, Reader letting Dalton off too easy for purpose of plot, noise complaints from neighbors, reader has a perversion kink, fluff kinda. THIS IS A NSFW WORK OF FICTION! MINORS DNI! ALL READERS ARE HELD PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR MEDIA INTAKE!

“So, did you sleep well last night?”

Oh fuck.

Did he know?

He couldn’t have…

*Astral Projector* Yes the fuck he could have.

“I slept fine, why?” You narrowed your eyes in false confusion and tried to keep the suspicion from your tone. You knew Dalton could’ve very well seen what you’d been up to last night, but he had told you that he rarely ever projected anymore. And hardly ever on purpose.

As you silently and awkwardly ate your breakfast, you tried to sort out your feelings on how Dalton’s potential peeping had made you feel.

For one, you felt grossed out. You were doing something so private and intimate, it felt like a violation to be watched, unaware and vulnerable. You were also angry at him for those very reasons. You would’ve been grossed out if it was anyone, but it was Dalton. Your friend Dalton, who you trusted and relied on. There was a bit of guilt, too. You were masturbating to pictures of him that he had sent. That was incredibly pervy, and it hadn’t occurred to you to feel guilt until the possibility of him knowing became real. You also felt kind of used, like you were some free, live action porn for him of get his rocks off to.

That’s where the complications started within you, too. There was a part of you that felt electrified when Dalton had first buried his face into that pillow and smirked at you. So knowingly and predatory. Your core clenched at the thought of him finding you like that, desperate and wanton for his touch. You wanted to know how he’d reacted, how much he’d seen. If how he was acting now was any indication, he’d liked what he’d seen.

It made you feel proud and sexy, which wasn’t right. It was gross. He was gross. That’s all you should feel about him and his actions.

Potential actions. You still didn’t actually know how if he had seen or anything. He was acting suspicious, or maybe you just felt that he was because he had grabbed a pillow that was covered in your cum.

“Why are you being so quiet? Is everything all right?” Dalton lifted his head lazily from that damned pillow, his face filled with concern. It amplified your guilt.

That wasn’t the face someone made if they were creeping on you. It was the face a genuinely worried friend made. Maybe more if you weren’t such a paranoid freak.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired, I guess,” you replied, trying to sound more alert and upbeat. You took in a deep, calming breath. This was Dalton you were with, he’d never done anything to make you feel unsafe. It was why you had feelings for him in the first place.

“What were you up to when we stopped talking last night? Working up a sweat?” Was he pressing his nose into the pillow and sniffing it?

“What?”

“You’re wearing workout clothes?” Oh.

“Oh, yeah. Um, no, I didn’t do much after you started doing your homework. Just on my phone,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly. You were feeling very chalant right now, very fucking chalant.

You were wearing workout clothes because they were at the top of your clean clothes pile. The one you hadn’t gotten around to folding yet. After your little self-session last night, you fell asleep without putting your clothes back on, so you’d woken up naked when he started knocking on your door.

Actually, you’d been in such a rush, that you hadn’t even picked up your clothes from last night. You discreetly peered over at where you knew you’d tossed them. The t-shirt was there but your panties weren’t in sight. You knew it was unlikely from how you’d thrown them, but maybe your underwear where under the large shirt?

“Yeah, luckily I managed to turn my assignments in good time. I actually thought about coming over after I was done, but I didn’t want to wake you up,” he informed you sweetly. And he was. So sweet.

But it was so hard to separate what you knew about him from what you suspected he’d done. And it was going to eat away at you until you knew the truth. At the same time, what if you were wrong? Would your relationship with him -platonic or not- survive your accusations?

“I probably was still awake. But it’s all good. You’re here now, right?” You had so been looking forward to spending the weekend with him. You had even planned on telling him how you felt now that you had the opportunity. Now, you just wanted to be alone.

“Yeah, of course. We’re gonna have a great time this weekend.” As his gaze raked up and down your body, there was something so lustful, it can almost be seen as malicious. Your trust in his innocence was withering away.

“I don’t know about great, but it’ll be nice. Just relaxing and hanging out. We can watch movies or read. Order take out and play games,” you replied casually, trying to sound more excited than you were.

“Oh, so we’re going middle school with this sleepover, yeah?” Dalton laughed and rolled over on his back, propping a long leg up and letting the other dangle.

“Big talk for the guy who hates literally every standard college experience. Since we’ve started school, I have not seen you have sex, drink or do drugs. You literally only went to a single frat party because Chris forced you,” you teased, forcing yourself to be more relaxed.

“I don’t hate every college experience, I just prefer being sober,” he corrected, very pointedly leaving out the ‘sex’ part of your list.

You got up to throw the trash from your breakfast away, and made a point of looking like you were freshening up your room. You picked up yesterday’s t-shirt with your toes, noting the lack of panties under them and silently panicked.

Where the fuck did they go? They were right here last night. You were sure of it.

You remembered that Dalton could interact with the physical world while in the Further and slowly turned to him, now thoroughly convinced that he had spent some time in your room last night.

“Hey, Dalton? When you’re projecting, you can move things, right?” You knew he could already. When he had told you about it, he had also shown you how it worked to prove it to you.

“Okay, that was random. Yeah, why?” You don’t know what he saw in your face, but he automatically sat up straight on your bed.

“Did you come in here last night? Like, did you project in here when I couldn’t see or hear you?” Your tone was accusatory and panicked, your voice raising slightly in volume as a result.

A short pause. “Yeah,” he answered, his face losing all humor and friendliness. It looked pleading and defensive.

“How long?”

From the amount of time it took for him to answer the question, you knew that anything that came from his mouth would be a lie.

“Just a second. When I finished my homework, I wanted to see if it was cool for me to come over. I didn’t want to wake you up by calling or texting, so I decided to come check on you. I left as soon as I saw. Even if you weren’t sleeping, I figured you wouldn’t want me to come over when you were like that,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work and you could feel yourself mentally withdrawing from him. It wasn’t just the peeping, it was the lying, and how he only felt badly about it when you seemed uncomfortable with it. Not because he was actually sorry. Actually, no. He hadn’t even apologized, so he wasn’t even fake-sorry.

You took a moment to think on it, keeping your face as neutral as possible. Calling him out on it wouldn’t do anything, neither would sending him away. He could come in whenever he wanted and do anything to you. You swallowed the part of you that was excited by that by reminding yourself that most people found that repulsive.

There was nothing that you could do to keep yourself safe from him, especially if you made him angry. There was also nothing you found yourself wanting to do either, a small voice in your head reminded you.

The thought of him no longer in your life was heartbreaking, devastating even. As upset as you were, your intense feelings for him were still there. But, this wasn’t healthy or what you knew as normal. For that part of yourself, you felt like taking a break from him was what was necessary.

“Okay. Sorry you had to see that,” you chirped after a few moments of fluttering around your room. The fact that you had to apologize to him felt like cement in your mouth with every word.

“No, I’m sorry. It was invasive. I should’ve just texted you or something,” he insisted.

How could someone who sounds so sincere and caring be such a pervert?

The rest of the weekend was tense. Really tense. When you watched a movie, you made sure to sit at the opposite end of the couch from him. You didn’t talk to him as much, and you barely initiated any conversation yourself. The night was the worst part. You couldn’t just offer up Carla’s room to him to sleep in, and you couldn’t send him to the couch because that would make him suspicious.

You did make sure that you weren’t sleeping under the same blanket as him, but that still didn’t relax you enough to sleep. Even if you had made sure to wear your most concealing pajamas. You spent the whole night faking slumber, wondering if he was walking around your dorm like some sort of ghost and watching you. The worst part of it was that you had no way of knowing if he was projecting or not. His chest was rising and falling slowly, and his handsome face was peaceful. You inwardly screamed, not being able to help the invasive thoughts telling you that under different circumstances, you’d be blushing and unable to sleep for an entirely different reason.

If last night hadn’t happened, you’d be wearing your most revealing nightie and eager to cuddle close to him in your bed. You felt guilty for having masturbated at all last night and potentially ruining your friendship for it.

In the morning, you nearly jumped with joy when your roommates informed you that she was returning early after ruining her dad’s birthday by getting drunk and slugging his indoor pet donkey. It was the most ridiculous thing you had ever heard of and you would’ve laughed out loud if you weren’t so relieved.

You were careful to seem very sad and disappointed when you told Dalton the news. He laughed at the excuse and asked if it was real. You showed him the text and he pulled you into a hug while chuckling.

You wanted to melt into him and hug him back. Forty-eight hours ago and you wouldn’t been through the roof with happiness. Instead, you curled your hands into his shirt and tucked your face into his neck so he wouldn’t see your expression of discomfort.

As soon as he left that afternoon, you made special care to lock the door and immediately ran to your room, hiding under your blanket until Carla stumbled through the door, grumpy from her hangover.

*~*~*

Dalton was upset. For many reasons. All different. All relating to you.

He should’ve been ecstatic. That’s how he wanted to feel. That’s how everything in his life was positioned to make him feel.

He got to spend the night with you, even getting to sleep next to you in your bed. He ate with you, watched movies with you, and he laughed with you as he finished getting dressed after his shower. He didn’t imagine the way you admired his bare torso after he toweled his hair dry.

But you barely talked to him. You wouldn’t touch him, and god, he wanted you to. He wanted to touch you, but he could tell that you evaded him on purpose. You let him hug you, squeeze your hand, nudge you with his foot to make sure you were paying attention to the movie. When he woke up in your bed his arm wrapped around your tummy, you looked restful and happy while still asleep.

And after he left because your stupid roommate couldn’t hold her fucking liquor, you texted him a ‘thank you’ with a kiss emoji. A kiss emoji. Just like you had that night. The night you had confronted him about.

He didn’t expect you to be so okay with it. And after the shock wore off, he was flooded with relief and satisfaction. That had to be an invitation, right? You wanted him to. You liked it. You wanted him to do it again, if he wanted to. He knew you noticed your missing underwear. You must have known that he took them. And you had let him keep them.

But you hadn’t been texting him as much.

On average, your texted Dalton a lot more frequently than he texted you. Not because he wasn’t interested or because he was a bad texter. You were just very enthusiastic and had a lot more to say to him. He was as quiet in his messages as he was in real life.

It was different after the sleepover, though. You were drier, and distant. Instead of actually talking to him, you would simply react to his messages. He hated it. He knew you liked him more than that, so why we’re you acting so weird?

Weeks went by like that. Suddenly, you were always with your classmates, who were your close friends all of the sudden. You wouldn’t call him. You had stopped sending him pictures of yourself in your chat after that first night. He only ever really saw you in person when he followed you around campus.

Dalton’s mood worsened with everyone during that period, and it was damaging everything in his life. Since it was spring, his art teacher wanted him to focus on nature, and creation, and rejuvenation. As if he could care less about that right now, and she noticed. His grades suffered as as result of him taking out his problems on his canvas.

His social life was even more stale than it usually was. He stopped hanging out with the few friends he had, stopped talking to everyone except his mom and Chris. And that was only because both women refused to not talk to him at least twice a day.

But Chris respected herself a lot more than his other friends did, so when he saw you on a date with some other guy and tried to ditch her, she confronted him on his behavior.

“What the fuck is up with you right now, Dolphin? And don’t say nothing, because you almost walked into traffic a second ago!” Her voice was loud and he tugged her to somewhere more dark and quiet.

“Did you see her? With some other guy?! I don’t have a problem, she’s the one with the fucking problem!” He started pacing as he snarled at Chris, glaring venomously into the direction of the restaurant where he could see you sitting across from some douche.

I could fucking…

Fuck, she looks beautiful…

She’s mine! She should be dressing up like that for me!

I should go in there. Fucking bend her over and take her right there…

Make everyone watch as she screams my name. She’d pull me in, too, her pussy would just suck me right in…

She’d kiss me, and I wouldn’t even care about seeing that dumb bastard’s face until she stopped…

Then I’d bash his fucking face into the table…until it was ruined…until no one could recognize him…until he stopped moving…

I’d keep fucking her, too. She’d want it. I saw how she is, she was still playing with herself even after she came. Her greedy cunt would need me to fill it. Fill it up all the way. Make it stick and she’ll be with me forever…

It took Dalton approximately six minutes and twenty-two seconds to realize that Chris was talking to him. And that he was really lucky that it was too dark here they were to see his erection.

“…ook, I’m sorry man. I really thought she was into you. But if this is the reason you’ve been acting so weird lately, then you have got to get a grip. It’s not fair to either of you for you to be acting like this,” Chris chastised all in one breath. She looked like she’d been doing so since the moment he’d zoned out.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. It’s just, I thought there was a moment when we were going forward. I guess I was wrong. We should go, I think I need to be alone right now,” he apologized sincerely. And that was the truth. He was sorry. Not nearly as sorry as he was angry, but he wasn’t going to take that out on his best friend. He knew better.

He’d take it out on you.

Dalton had been projecting more often since that night. There were multiple instances with spirits, but he wouldn’t be deterred from seeing you. He was getting better at it, too. He was able to make himself visible to others while in his astral form, he tested it on Chris. He was even able to control his body and project while he was awake. He could do his homework while watching you shower.

He even got to see you touch yourself sometimes. He stopped doing it to himself that first time, controlling his body so that when he went back in, he could suck at the crotch of your panties while getting himself off. It was more connected to you that way.

He knew you still loved him, that’s why he was confused as to why you distanced yourself. When you came, it was his name falling from your tongue. When you opened and closed your messages, it was his contact you were constantly checking. You would even type out messages before deleting the words and throwing your phone in frustration.

So now, sitting in his dorm and glaring at the picture of you kneeling in front of the mirror, he debated how he should confront you on your date.

D: “Me and Chris were going for ice cream and saw you at that nice Italian place. You looked pretty. Was the food good?”

He wouldn’t ask about the guy. This wasn’t about that overstepping asshole trying to steal you away from him. It was about you, and whether you would lie to him.

You took a moment to reply and to his complete surprise and joy so strong that he could sing, you also sent a photo. Your lips were stained pink and glossy, wrapped around a thick boba straw. The angle was from above so you were looking up all innocently into the camera as you sucked the brown sugar tapioca pearls into your mouth. Dalton felt himself stiffening and adjusted himself in his seat as he read your message.

You: “Thanks. Honestly, I couldn’t really focus on the food. I was on a date and the guy ordered for me and spent the entire time talking about how much of a man he was. I didn’t even like what he ordered. I would’ve preferred being there with you.”

His heart skipped a beat and he forgot all about how upset he was with you after reading the end of your text. Wished you were with me? Like as a date?

D: “Sounds awful. Please don’t tell me he left you with the check, too.”

He added another mirror picture, this time fully clothed and making a comically inquisitive face at the camera. He still wasn’t sure where you were on this potential reconciliation, but he had high hopes given how long your message has been. You hadn’t been texting him more than one or two lines in ages.

You: “After ORDERING. FOR. ME. he casually mentions how he likes to split the bill to make sure women aren’t using him for his money. Dalton, the main course itself was $40, not including sides and appetizers. I threw my lap towel at him and took off.

You: “This fool expected me to pay for food that I didn’t even fucking order or like, after acting like he was some big shit the entire time. Dick head was lucky I didn’t toss my plate in his lap. Splitting the check? Get the fuck outta my face.”

Dinner date etiquette was a big deal to you. You had very vividly described it to Dalton when he had asked once and it was ingrained in his mind. If you asked someone on a date, then you had to pay for the outing. Exceptions can be made in certain situations, but only once a relationship was established. Askers have to pay on the first date, especially if they planned it out. Dalton empathized greatly with your situation, and was filled with even more hatred for the jackass. Still, were you only talking to him to vent about a bad date? Were you just jerking him around at your own convenience?

Your next photo was of you at your desk, you hand cupping your throat and you making a comically shocked face. Your eyes were rolled to the ceiling, your brows furrowed, and your mouth opened to an ‘o’. Dalton’s pants tightened when he thought of the other ways he could get you to make that face, none of them funny.

D: “Don’t let one experience ruin the restaurant for you. Next time, I’ll take you and you can order every little thing you think you’ll enjoy. My treat.”

As ridiculous as it made him feel, he thought it necessary to lighten the mood and show you that he meant his text as casually as possible. So, his responding photo was of him making what Chris had referred to as the “rizz face”. He made a finger gun across his chin and bit his lip in an enthusiastic and “seductive” smile. He let his head fall loudly onto his desk in embarrassment as he hit send.

You two had gotten food together plenty of times. It wasn’t odd. But you never got food at nice or upscale places like the one Dalton had seen you at. Even the semi-nice corporation chain places, like Olive Garden, it was rare. And usually only if you two were splitting a single meal. College students.

His invitation, while open to rejection, was very clearly set in a less-than-friendly way. At least he thought it was. Dalton assumed you’d see it that way, too, since he’s never once brought up fine dining to you before. This was his chance to get back in your good graces. And hopefully, be more than friends, if you accepted.

You: “That sounds nice, actually. I’d love to. Just not until I can stomach going since that jerk kinda ruined it for me. I didn’t even want to go, but Carla insisted.”

Bro, fuck Carla, man! Your next messaged came in a few seconds later.

You: “Luckily, she felt so bad that she profusely apologized and bought me boba before going to her girlfriend’s. My great suffering has ended.”

Your next picture was of you smiling into the camera with your nose scrunched cutely and your hands inverted under your chin in mock-innocence. You looked adorable. But Dalton was confused. Why the hell would you go out with a guy you didn’t even like when you could’ve been hanging out with him? It made him angry at you all over again.

D: “Why bother going out with him then? You could’ve just called me, I would’ve brought you something to eat and you would’ve actually had a good time.”

He didn’t send a photo. Neither did you after taking ten minutes to reply.

You: “Wanted an excuse to dress up.”

Dalton nearly crushed his phone in his hand. What the fuck were you doing to him? He was so sick of this chasing bullshit. He was done with your little game. You were his, and he wouldn’t accept you going out with another guy to get compliments on how pretty you were. Especially not when he was willing to spend every waking moment of his life showing you how ethereally beautiful he thought you were. He would kiss the ground you walked on, not order food you didn’t like. He would worship you, not expect you to pay for an overly priced meal. If he were able to, he’d spend entire lifetimes pleasing you and satisfying you in ways that you couldn’t even imagine and that dumb fuck you went out with wouldn’t even be capable of.

Leaving you on read, Dalton grabbed his jacket and his shoes and stormed out of his dorm, nearly sprinting to get to you. Once at your door, he barreled into your dorm, barely noticing that you’d forgotten to lock it again.

Startled at the noise, you jumped from inside the bathroom and glanced between him and your phone multiple times. Dalton then remembered that he stupidly forgot to bring his phone with him when he decided to come over.

“Dalton, what the hell?” You crossed your arms over your chest and Dalton felt his mouth water at the way it made your tits look in the lacy tank top you wore without a bra.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and reflect on what the hell he was doing, Dalton returned to his clarified anger.

“What the hell is your problem? You’ve barely talked to me in weeks and then I find out you’re going out with some fuckhead that you don’t even like when I’m right here. Begging for your attention and always available when you want or need me. You lead me on and then ignored me for other people, what do I have to do to get to be with me. Because I know you want to, so don’t bother with any of your bullshit because I’ve fucking had it with you!”

As he vented his grievances with you, he stalked over to where you were and grabbed you by your shoulder tightly. He pulled you to him closely enough that your noses were inches from touching. A part of him sang at having you so closely to him but his anger and desperation for you were so strong that his only forms of expression were physical and rough.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! You break into my house and yell at me, and somehow you’re the victim of my behavior? You know exactly why things changed! You know why I had to go on that date! I didn’t say anything, but I know the truth, Dalton. I know what you did that night,” you confronted him, pushing him away but not actively trying to escape his hold. Dalton’s hands slipped down to your wrists, latching on when you made no move to pull away from him.

“Then why did you not tell me to leave when you found out? Why did you not say anything, tell me the truth that you knew I was lying? You let me sleep in your bed with you, baby, you let me touch you. If you think you’re all that angry about what you think happened, you sure aren’t acting like it,” Dalton hissed, tugging you close and breathing into your hair.

Your body was hot so close to his and your hair was softly tickling his chin and throat as you shook your head in denial.

“No. No, that’s not true. I just knew that saying anything wouldn’t have stopped you from doing it again,” you rebutted, glaring up at him.

You were right, he had continued because you hadn’t said anything. And you hadn’t spoken to him properly in over a month. Still, even if you couldn’t see it, Dalton knew you were lying to yourself.

“If you had said something, I would’ve stopped,” he conceded, pulling away from you. “But you can’t deny that you want me. You invited me in, over and over again. And I came running every single time. Even after seeing you with that prick. What I did isn’t some kind of dealbreaker for you. You can lie to yourself about it, but you can’t lie to me. Don’t let me in with no intention to keep me because I will keep coming back.”

When the distance shrunk between his body and yours, it was you that initiated. You glowered at Dalton smugly.

“And how exactly do you know that, Dalton?” You knew exactly what he had done, and you were goading him to make yourself seem morally superior and him less credible. But moral or not, he was still right.

“The calls are coming from the inside the house, aren’t they, sweetheart? You knew all this time and you were what? Putting on a show for me? You can’t have known which times I would’ve shown up, meaning that you were fucking yourself at every opportunity thinking I was somehow watching you. I bet you were there with your fingers pumping in your pussy wishing I would do something about it,” he accused, stroking light fingers up and down your arms.

When you hardened your glare before looking down at your feet, Dalton knew he was right. He smirked down at your before pulling a hand up and using two fingers to guide your face up to look him in the eyes.

“I can, you know, do something about it now. You just have to admit it.”

Your response was a bit more defensive than he would’ve hoped. “Admit what?”

“I want to know how you feel about me. If I hadn’t made it clear by now, I’m hopelessly in love with you. I’d do anything for you and I absolutely hate that this is the way you’re finding out about it. I’d have rather taken you out on a date and showered you with gifts and made you feel loved before actually telling you. But I get I’ll have to settle for making you angry and then fucking all of it out of you. Would you like that?”

Dalton would always remember his first kiss. It was sudden and rushed and he didn’t have enough time to actually kiss back, not that he’d wanted to. He appreciates that it’s something that he and Chris don’t talk about. It makes it all the more sweeter to think about his first actually kiss being with you.

You brought his head in slowly but lost all control when your lips met his. Dalton’s eyes squeezed shut as he grabbed the sides of your face to pull you in even closer. He gasped into your mouth, using the opportunity to lick the seam of your lips with his tongue. He had never kissed anyone, period, much less using his tongue. Everything he was doing was the result of instinct, movies, and the attempts you and Chris have made to verbally teach him how to please a woman.

You pull your mouth away from his but Dalton can’t take his lips from your body now that he’s had a taste. His lips burn their way down your throat, his kisses open-mouthed and desperate. Dalton is eating up your moans, using them to fuel and guide his actions.

“I adore you,” you gasp, fisting handfuls of his hair to keep him on you. You couldn’t have separated him from you if you tried. “I couldn’t separate what I thought was right from what I actually wanted and I’m so sick of being away from you. I wanna be with you, Dalton. I just want you, all of you.”

Dalton shoved you into the wall, pinning you there with the length of his own body. His cold fingers crawled along your ribcage, digging into the plump flesh there harshly. One of his knees shoved itself between your legs and he used his grip on your sides to settle you on his thigh.

“You’re going to feel all of me. I’ve been waiting far too long for this, so you are going to take it. You hear me? Be a good girl and enjoy it,” he hissed in your ear as he left a biting kiss on your lips, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

The little sounds escaping your mouth drive him nuts and he didn’t even bother trying to restrain himself from grinding his erection against the crotch of your sleep shorts. They barely covered anything anyway, but he still wanted to feel you bare. You rode his thigh with no shame, leaning in to kiss him again.

Dalton still didn’t know much about kissing so he didn’t protest your taking control of his lips. He accepted anything you gave him and moaned when your tongue slid into his mouth to taste him. Your hips jerked harder on him when he did and he grinned wickedly at uncovering one of your kinks.

Your hands pulled at his shirt and as he yanked it over his head, Dalton began walking backwards to your bedroom. When the backs of his knees hit your bed, he let himself fall into a sitting position, hauling you into his lap. His hands found your hips and guided you to start grinding against him again. Your hands went to your own shirt and as soon as you or chest was uncovered, Dalton was lowering his head to softly kiss and lick your breasts. One of your hands went to his hair and tugged at the roots . He moaned and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, circling his tongue around the peak.

“Dalton…shit,” you sighed, rolling your hips down on him. His erection was sliding against all of the right places, but you needed more.

He pulled off you with a pop and started aggressively biting and sucking marks across your chest at random. His hand tracked from your hip to the back of your head. He gather some hair in his hands and used it to yank your head back, forcing you to arch into him and push your breasts closer to his face.

Dalton could feel your arousal soaking through your panties and shorts and into his sweatpants. His tongue traced broad lines down your belly until he was laying back onto your bed and sliding you along his stomach and chest until your pussy was hovering above his face.

“Gonna make you cum first. Been looking forward to this for ages. You want me to have a taste, right?” His fingers curled around the waistline of your shorts and was already tugging them down your hips along with your underwear.

Your nails dug into the backs of his hands as you stopped him. “What if I’m too heavy for you?”

Dalton response was to knock your hands away from his, leaving red scratches, and drag your shorts off the rest of the way. Left completely bare, you barely got a word in edgewise before he drew you down onto his mouth. And it seems like he took the term “eating you out” a bit too seriously because he was lapping and swallowing at your lips and clit like a man starved. His tongue started thrusting in your wet heat, his grasp on your thighs threatening to bruise your flesh as he heaved you impossibly closer.

Your hands slapped onto the wall in front of your loudly as you started to ride his nose and tongue. Your head was thrown back and you were cementing out without abandon. Your dorms were bigger than Dalton’s but the walls were just as thin, yet it didn’t occur to either of you to care about your neighbors hearing.

Your release was quickly approaching, and when Dalton began suckling on your clit while simultaneously thrusting two fingers into you without warning, you lost yourself in euphoria. You lost control of your limbs, your body jerking and twitching violently as you came. And Dalton didn’t let up once, moaning around your folds as if he were the one cumming.

“Dalton? Dalton, let up.” He didn’t, smacking your hand away when you tried to push his face away from your pussy.

“I told you that you were gonna take it, and I’m not done yet,” he growled before running his nose up your slit to your clit and thrusting his tongue inside you once more. You yelled at the overstimulation and tried to lift yourself off of him but Dalton’s grip on your thighs tightened even further, refusing to let you move.

Ten minutes of calling out his name and begging, he tossed you aside into your back and climbed on top of you. Dalton dove in for a deep kiss, clearly wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue. You whimpered against his lips and locked your legs around his hood, using your feet to push his pants down his legs.

Dalton lifted his hips just enough to make the fabric go down and kicked off the offending material. He lifted up one of your knees to his ribs and lined himself up with you, all without breaking eye contact. Sealing your consent with a kiss, Dalton swallowed the shout you let out as he thrusted into you slowly.

Dalton knew he wasn’t going to last long but he was determined to give you one last orgasm and set a quick and even pace to build you up again. He buried his face into your neck kissing and biting at the soft skin as he pounded into you. His hands were glued to your shoulder and thigh, pulling your body in thrust for thrust. His head flew back in a roar when your nails raked down his back as you chanted his name over and over again. The sound of flesh slapping against wet flesh, your bed groaning and banging into the wall, and the both of your joined moaning sounded like music to Dalton and he could spend the rest of his life listening to this one melody.

“Oh, fuck, Dalton! I’m so close! I’m gonna cum!” Dalton felt that familiar pressure in his balls when he heard the sound of your whines. He tried to keep up that same steady pace so you wouldn’t lose your orgasm, but as soon as your walls tightened around him, he lost all control of himself.

He started slamming into you wildly, only after his own orgasm now. He was going so roughly that you started hitching up on the bed and had to grip the headboard to keep Dalton from potentially giving you a concussion. His hips pumped into you almost viscously and you knew you had to help him over that blissful edge.

You started kissing up his jaw and bit down on his earlobe, scratching down his chest and abs, before whispering breathily into his ear. “Cum in me Dalton! I want your cum! Give it to me! I want you feel you fill me up!”

For an added good measure, you grabbed one of his hands and spread his palm over your pelvis so that he could feel himself moving inside you.

Without a very loud shout of “Fuck!”, Dalton filled your womb with his seed before collapsing on top of you. You could feel his pushing heartbeat agent yours and wrapped your arms around him to prevent him from rolling off of you.

It took you both a few seconds of heavy panting to realize that there was still a pounding sound echoing throughout your room.

“Can you two shut the FUCK UP ALREADY!”

Both you and Dalton went completely still for a moment before bursting out into crazed laughter. You huddled together in your bed before Dalton clambered up and walked over to your bathroom.

He took just long enough that you were beginning to consider getting up yourself before he came back out again, armed with a damp rag and a bottle of your favorite lotion. He sat beside you and carefully began cleaning you up. You felt yourself blushing when he admired his cum leaking out from your hole. Then he warmed up the lotion in his hands and massaged your sore limbs, leaning over and kissing all of the marks he left with small whispers of “I love you” as his lips trailed down your body.

You dragged him down back next to you you and he positioned your body to be laying halfway on top of his, kissing your forehead and wrapping his arms around you. It didn’t take long for you to begin dozing off when he startled you with a softly spoken question.

“You’re my girlfriend now, right?”

You giggled and kissed his nose with an enthusiastic “Yes,” before allowing yourself to drift off.

*~*~*

Wow, this was probably longer than the first one! Hope y’all like it! Again, the first part and this sequel were both inspired by the Dalton imagine made by @glodessa

Also tagging these people who asked for a part two before I actually posted this

@explosiongamora

@flaminghotcheetoos

@nessabarrettsqueen

@purplevioletshoes

@12idk1234

@igotmajordaddyissues

@nyx22-blogs

@elizabe-thh

THIS CELEBRATES 60 FOLLOWERS ON THIS ACCOUNT! THANK Y’ALL SO MUCH FOR LIKING AND FOLLOWING! BE SURE TO KEEP SENDING IN THE REQUESTS BECAUSE I LOVE WRITING THEM FOR Y’ALL!

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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

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Can I please write a fic about this and tag you in it as my inspo? I need moreeeee. All credit to you of course

yandere!dalton who can’t stop himself from astral projecting to watch you at night. not even when he catches you touching yourself. not even when he hears you moan his name as you come undone.

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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?”

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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.

ty is the definition of a beige flag, his flag probably glows in the dark too and there is no right or wrong way of interpreting what it means

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.

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thanks for the tag and i hope you enjoy 😊

9 people you would like to know better.

Last song: I still believe from the Lost Boys soundtrack. Recently watched the movie and have grown obsessed.

Currently watching: mainly movies like The Lost Boys and The Proposal.

Currently Reading: about to start the icebreaker by Hannah Grace. Also Reading a lot of fanfiction for shows like Teen Wolf and Ted Lasso.

Current Obsession: The Lost Boys but it does changes like every week 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

Tagging people I'd like to know better;

@hopefulromances @darklydeliciousdesires @drabbles-mc @fanficimagery @britany1997 @blueicequeen19 @its-time-to-write

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