#Lambert imagines

[justanoasisimagines]

Jealously

Hey my lovelies back with another jealously headcanon! My requests are currently open and my request guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

❀Lambert is a jealous person. It comes from a territorial nature. He's possessive of you. Lambert doesn't have a lot of people in his people in his inner circle, so he's protective of them. However, it's magnified when it comes to you.

❀Lambert is abrupt in his jealousy. He becomes confrontational and agitated when he feels like his back is up against the wall.

❀Lambert can get snappy with you. The two of you have argued about Lambert's jealousy. Sometimes he reads too much into things. You are the one to try and reassure him. Lambert has already sat and stewed about the situation. The argument is explosive as you try and get him to see sense.

❀When both of you give each other space to calm down. Lambert doesn't calm down, instead, he goes to confront the reason for his jealousy. He's furious. There has been conflict between the two of you. He's now worried perhaps it is too far this time., he's fearful you're going to leave him.

❀Although you're not going to leave him. You know he needs space to calm down so you can then proceed to talk about it rationally.

❀Except Lambert isn't thinking about it rationally. He's steamed full ahead to the man who caused a rift between the two of you. He's called to the man before engaging him in a fight and now Lambert can't stop. He's not going destroy the individual. The others try to pull him off of him but it's no use.

❀There's only one person who can make Lambert stop and that's you. With a shout of his name, he stops and turns to face you. Your face is mixed with worry and concern as you approach him. Lambert's fierce anger has subsided as he leaves the man and steps towards you.

❀Neither of you says a word, but you have understanding. You understand Lambert better than most. Over the years you've learned to communicate through actions and body language, with an outreached hand, Lambert places it firmly in his.

❀He knows he shouldn't react like this. however, when you love someone as much as he does every feeling is magnified. It's when you're patching him up do you both have that talk.

❀He promises to not use his fists again unless necessary. Lambert refuses to allow anyone to hurt you. However, you remind him sometimes his presence is enough to warn anyone off. He also has nothing to fear because you're not going anywhere.

[linkerbell]

Gotta get that daily kiss in 😩✨

[gutsby]

Cowboy Killers

Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader

Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.

Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.

Word count: 4.1k

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and—

“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.

Across the line, your friend laughed.

“Yeah? You see him?”

Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.

The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.

She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.

Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.

And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.

Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.

“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.

Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:

“Where ya headed, hon?”

You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’

The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.

A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.

Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.

“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.

She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.

“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.

“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.

“Well, duh.”

“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you more.”

You ended the call.

And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.

You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight

You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.

The couple turned.

As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.

“You cheatin’ FUCK!”

He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.

The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.

“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.

You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:

“Working late, are we?!”

And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.

“Got a little caught up on the way home?”

Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.

“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.

Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand

Shaking his head.

“Hell no, I ain’t never—”

“LIAR!”

Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.

“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.

You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.

They thought wrong.

“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.

You almost expected the man to turn and leave.

You thought wrong.

“You’re a cunt.”

And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.

The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.

He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.

“How’s it feel?” he sneered.

You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.

On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?

You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.

“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”

“Wh—”

“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”

“What—”

“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”

“What did you just call me?!”

“A BITCH!”

“No, the NAME!”

“TOMMY MILLER!”

“I’M JOEL!”

Oh.

Oh.

You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.

Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.

“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.

Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.

“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”

Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.

Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.

Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.

“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”

He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:

‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’

He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.

When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.

“HEY!”

Oh, no. No. Not tonight.

You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.

“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.

It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.

Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:

“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”

You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.

“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”

Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Joel flipped you around to face him.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.

What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.

Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.

“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”

“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.

You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.

“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”

“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.

You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.

And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.

“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.

He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.

“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”

Joel couldn’t say that he had.

Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.

This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.

“Alright, princess. Up.”

You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.

You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.

“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.

Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:

“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”

Joel wished he’d said no.

Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.

“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.

“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.

And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.

“Gross,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Got a light?”

“Blow me.”

Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.

“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.

“Now keep your—HEY!”

Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.

He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:

“What the fuck was that?!”

“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”

Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.

“I’m aware.”

“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”

You told him.

Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.

And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.

Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.

He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.

He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:

‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’

He saw you cringe.

“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”

The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.

Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.

“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”

“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”

You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.

“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.

Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.

“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.

Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.

“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:

“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”

Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.

“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”

Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.

The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.

You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.

Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.

On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:

“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”

Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.

“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”

At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.

“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”

You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.

Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.

Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.

Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.

“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.

Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.

You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.

Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.

As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.

Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.

He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.

He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.

He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.

No fucking way.

You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.

Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.

“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.

“The one and only.”

Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.

It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.

He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.

His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.

“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.

Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.

Now you were waving to him from your front door.

Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.

And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.

2:21 AM

You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.

Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:

1:09 AM – Maria

DUDE

1:09 AM

TOMMY JUST CAME HOME

1:09 AM

THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR

1:13 AM

IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!

1:13 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

1:42 AM

DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME

1:54 AM – Dave York

Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u

[lil-vibes]

i havent been able to get @bamsara 's amnesia au outta my head for WEEKS !! so have these bc narinder being more openly affectionate will be the end of me fr

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello there I recently discovered ur blog and just love the way you write for the fandoms. And I was wondering if I could request a Lambert x baby Lamb reader platonic ofc

Basically the scenario is that while Lambert is on a crusade they discover a dead body of a lamb who has recently been sacrificed but before they could leave the area they hear crying coming from the lamb who has been sacrificed and upon investigating it they find a baby Lamb (reader)hidden in there mother's wool visibly hungry and in need of a guardian.

I just it'll be a cute scenario having Lambert discovering that there no longer the only lamb.

Lambert x baby lamb!reader (platonic)

i know this is going to sit in the queue for like a day or two before it goes up and ill probably be better by then but my throat hurts so bad hisshiss notes: reader is gn, short post, post focuses on the events after bringing you home to the cult, lambert is implied to have been orphaned young cws: none

they cling onto you hard, youre the only other lamb thats still alive that they know of but on top of that youre like their kid now

tries to be the best parent to you, though they lack the experience- ignoring that theyve never taken care of a child solo before, but they dont know what a normal childhood usually has

learning as they go

more than anything they want you to have a happy life in the cult

very protective though, wont let you off the grounds until they know for a fact you can fight and defend yourself... in the meantime, youre assigned a caretaker- a babysitter, even- to keep an eye on you when theyre out on crusades

they always bring something back for you to make up for their absence and tries to make some time for you

being a cult leader doesnt really... leave much time to spare for bonding...

will burn the world down if something or someone ever hurts you- theyve already taken down the bishops, theyve got more than enough power to flex to make sure no one steps out of line to hurt you

[aychama]

Narinder is VERY much the maiden Lamb wants to rescue (I’m so glad you liked it!! Your Lamb’s knight armor was SO fun to draw!)

Im happy you had fun! Have this little sketch I was working on as a treat!

[ursae-miinoris]

finally done with my narilamb designs.. there's probably a bajillion mistakes but i can't be bothered to fix them all

[headcanonthings]

Save a horse, ride a Witcher.

-Jaskier, probably

[yeonjuns-beanie]

A Dangerous Consummation

warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con, themes of guilt and angst, mention of r*pe, reader realizes they enjoy something extreme, confession of feelings, biting, unprotected sex, more sex with demons!, red face possesses reader this time, slapping, kind of subby dalton, spitplay, description of a snowball, softer ending

summary: what happened was something you couldn’t forget even if you tried. as you wrestle with your feelings of the night, you start noticing that something is not right. not long after, you come face to face with the beast that marked you as his own. You confide in dalton, knowing he’s the only one who could help, but his assistance turns into something much more lewd.

a/n: after seeing how licentious affairs had been doing, i felt quite inspired to write a conclusive counterpart to it. when your ask came through it puzzled in perfectly with what i had drafted up so far. i hope i’ve done your request justice! i’ll prolly write more for dalton after this. i’ve seen the movie a third time now n have too many ideas. this can be read as a stand alone fic, although i would recommend you read the first part to capture all the filth. have a great day! <3 ~nero

Dalton Lambert x possessed!female reader

word count:6.6k

Pt.1

Your body was weak and your mind was beyond exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and to somewhat forget about the events of tonight, but Dalton’s shaky cries kept your mind running. You couldn’t find your voice to let him know what happened, so instead you shared in the starkness of the dorm the only thing filling the air were the occasional footsteps on the floor above you and Dalton’s cries.

You hadn’t moved from your position on his bed, still very aware of the pallid liquid slowly drying into the skin of your lower back. You felt Dalton lift his head from the bed and heard him get up to his feet.

“I’ll be right back.”

Only then did you lift your head up. You didn’t want him to leave, you didn’t want to be left alone because if you were to be completely transparent–you were scared. Even with the recollection of what just happened, he still comforted you in his natural form, and you still needed him around.

“Wait.”

Dalton turned around, his eyes wide at finally hearing you utter something besides a breath. You looked so broken and he knew it was his fault. He couldn’t look at you for too long because he felt the tears brimming his waterline within the second. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he grabbed the door handle setting out to what he initially went to do knowing he’d be weak for you if he stayed any longer.

“I promise, I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he snaked out of the door rubbing his hands across his face trying to wipe off his emotions. On the other side of the door, you dropped your hand back on the bed, feeling some sense of defeat.

“...Don’t go…”

Sighing you tried to let your body fall into a state of sleep, but every time you got close to the relief of sleep your body would wake you up with chills erupting across your skin. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you. Even though the room was decently illuminated by the full moon beaming through the windows, it still wasn’t enough to make you feel safe. You shut your eyes, knowing that you wouldn’t fall asleep but at least you wouldn’t be made known of anything manifesting in front of you.

The room started to feel oppressive. Every second that Dalton was gone it was becoming unbearable. There was a blanket of heated anxiety that you felt lay across your body and you knew something was watching you. You just couldn’t find the strength to open your eyes to face your opponent. You decided to barely squint your eyes open to make out just a fraction of what was causing you so much unease, but before you could muster up your full courage you heard the door unlock.

The amber lighting from the hallway painted the dingy tile flooring and the shadow of Dalton’s figure graced you with a moment of peace. Lifting your head to look at him, the warmth that filled your chest was something you couldn’t ignore. You could never be mad at him. Weakly, you motioned with your head as he fully came into the room.

“Can you turn on the light?”

He nodded and with the lurid overhead light casting over the dorm, you finally felt somewhat at ease. Dalton walked over to you still very apprehensive about being around you. Laying a small tub of hot water on the desk, he placed some hand towels on the chair. Kneeling back by the side of the bed you heard his voice cut through the silence again.

“Is it…is it okay if I touch you?”

He knew.

With the scene in front of him, it was almost moronic to think something else occurred on his bed. You nodded, but something told you that that wasn’t enough consent for him. Turning to look at him, a downturned smile poked at your lips.

“Yeah…you can touch me.”

With your verbal sanction, you felt a dry cloth make contact with your lower back. Sliding the partly dried slick off of your skin and encasing it in the towel, he followed with a warm towel. Relaxing muscles you didn’t even realize were tense. With another dry towel, he wiped over the small of your back making sure that you wouldn’t feel the chill of the air blow over your skin. He was sparing himself only taking care of your backside, but he knew that sooner or later he’d have to turn you over.

With his eyes shut, he took a deep breath preparing himself for whatever horror he’d have to look at.

“Can you roll over for me? So I can clean the rest of you..”

His voice trailed off, ashamed that he would have to take in more of this grim illustration that you were left bare in. Dalton got up from the side of the bed and went to your side of the room to dig through your drawers to find a sleep shirt for you. Picking the first large shirt he found, he turned around and was faced with your delicate body on its back. Vulnerable and exposed with small bruises peppered along your body.

As he came back over to you, his breath hitched and tears welled in his waterline. The life in his eyes drained as he took in your fragile form. A deep garnet stain was swiped across the side of your chin, maroon blemishes formed on the surface of your wrists, along your jawline, and there was a nasty crimson mark that was centered on the side of your neck.

The only puzzling thing was that that was the only one that truly looked like a bite mark. His stomach turned, knotting in regret. Placing your shirt on the edge of the bed he grabbed the wet towel, dunking it in the hot water, he needed to turn away from you. As the water trickled back into the bowl his thoughts played a horrifying symphony of guilt.

How could he let this happen? How could he hurt you? How could he let himself be so weak against that thing? After so long…

He turned around to face you, wrapping the towel around two fingers he kneeled again, wiping the warm towel against your marks. Your voice fluttered into his ears, a little bit more life swimming in your tone and he was delighted to hear your voice despite the circumstance.

“I guess you could say I’m afraid of the dark too now.”

You had a small smile pulling at your lips but horror pulled at Dalton’s.

“I’m so sorry y/n...I’m so sorry.”

You felt bad having him apologize knowing that deep down you enjoyed what happened. There was a certain sense of shame coursing through you but it was for wildly different reasons. Bringing your arm to rest across your eyes, you heard the water trickling in the bowl again and then felt a comforting warmth against the valley of your breasts. Dragging the towel across the areas that either Dalton felt needed attention or had vibrant bruising on them, he came to your flowery center. Hesitant, he looked up at you.

“Y/n, is it okay if I touch you here?”

“It’s okay Dalton, I trust you.”

A minuscule amount of relief sprinkled over him. How you still found it in you to be tender after whatever happened, killed him and it only crushed his heart even more. He needed to protect you and he failed. The one person he was truly enamored by, who made him feel more than emptiness, he failed.

Taking the towel, he gently cleaned your now wilted and tender petals. You hated to admit it but as he swiped over your folds, you kept having flash images of how you were ravished earlier in the evening. Your once angelic grotto was now tainted with the sin of taboo lust. You wanted to stop the small convulses at your center but the aftershocks were too much to control. You removed your arm from your face looking at Dalton once more, your anxiety wanting to confirm that it was still Dalton in the room with you.

As Dalton turned back around, he picked up your shirt and you somehow found the strength to sit up on the bed. Dalton was quick to rush to your side making sure that you were level. The worry in his eyes was so endearing that you almost forgot about all the events that occurred. You felt he had done more than enough and wanted to prove to him that you were in fact okay, you just needed time to recuperate.

“I-I’m okay, Dalton. Thank you.”

You were sincere, you weren’t trying to push him away and you wanted him to understand that and you felt that he did as he sat down on the bed across from you keeping an eye on your every move. Removing yourself of your bra, tank top, and cardigan, you tossed them all to your side of the room and grabbed the shirt that was in Dalton’s hands, pulling it over your body.

You crossed your legs and sat directly across from him, trying to gather what emotions were swarming through his head. It looked like he wanted to ask a question but didn’t have the courage to do so. Covering your legs with your shirt, you leaned over and nudged his knee with your hand.

“What’s going on in your head?”

He sighed, heavily and then looked around the dorm in hopes that he could find his answer somewhere nonverbally. Looking down at his hands and back up at you he found his voice.

“What happened? I genuinely don’t know—I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line suddenly feeling irrevocably sorry for him. You grabbed his hands and took a deep breath, ready to recount the portion of the night that he had no recollection of.

As you neared the end of your tale, you felt something wet the top of your hand. Looking up, you noticed a river of tears flowing from Dalton’s eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed in panic, immediately looking to calm him down. You wiped your thumb across his cheek taking what tears you could with it.

“Hey, Dalton–Dalton, look at me. It’s okay. I’m not mad or upset with you, this just means we have to figure this out together now.”

Dalton weaved his hands out of yours to wipe the remaining tears away from his face. Sniffling, he spoke after what felt like years of silence.

“I just, I don’t understand how you can look me in the face and tell me it’s okay after you just told me I raped you. How am I supposed to look at you and pretend everything is fine when I let you get hurt by simply just being involved with me? How can you even look at me?!”

To say his questions were laden would be an understatement. You now would have to present him with information you couldn’t even grasp the gravity of yet because you just discovered it about yourself. You sighed, coming to terms very quickly with your emotions.

“Dalton. Before I go on, there are a couple of things I haven’t mentioned yet.”

He looked up at you again, eyes full of panicked hysteria wondering what else you could possibly tell him happened.

“While you were possessed, this…entity told me something. It told me that everything it was going to do to me were things you wished you could do yourself. And it was preying on the fact that I was…aroused and that I was, well–enjoying it…”

The shame you felt creep up your throat was something that almost made you want to gag. The shock on his face was hard to manage because you were worried he would never be able to look at you normally. That any budding or fully bloomed feelings he had for you would be diminished to dust due to your confession. The silence you shared was beginning to become unbearable as you stared at each other.

“Please say something, Dalton. I can’t have you no-”

“-You, you enjoyed it?”

“You kinda have a hard time separating the fact that the person in front of you isn’t actually that person. Even more so when they look exactly the same and that person is someone you have a thing for in the first place…”

You scratched the back of your neck somewhat embarrassed and in awe of how quickly the truth just tumbled out of you. When you looked back at Dalton, you noticed a figured shadow appear behind him, but as quick as it appeared it was gone. Shaking your head, you wiped your face with your hands trying to find some of the same bravura you displayed moments before.

“Please don’t make me sit in silence again. I really just bared my bones here.”

“You have a thing, for me?”

“That’s what you got from all this?”

“It’s kinda a loaded moment y/n.”

You wanted something to distract you from the awkward tension that was now in the room, or at least that’s what it felt like to you. Looking around for your phone, you noticed it was on the floor peeking out from the bed. Looking over at Dalton you pointed to the floor.

“Can you grab that for me? It’s kind of in a dark spot.”

Without missing a beat, Dalton bent over and handed you your phone. Speaking as he sat up to hand it to you.

“This is more than a lot to digest, but for what it’s worth it wasn’t lying. N-not about the sex thing but I also have a thing for you. Wish it was divulged under different circumstances but we’re here now.”

“So by default, the sex thing is also true?”

You puckered your lips trying to fight a smile from teasing him. The situation itself was so heavy and you were searching for any remedy to lighten the mood. Dalton deadpanned, his face void of emotion trying to hide the annoyed smugness that was creeping up. You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from your throat, feeling a veneer of normalcy between the two of you. The nervous pit finally dissipating when you heard his laugh float through your ears.

“Yeah, yeah I guess that means it’s true too.”

With a small smile stretching at your lips, you grabbed his hands and almost got lost in the cerulean color of his eyes.

“So does this mean, we’re okay? For right now at least. I know there’s still so much that we have to work through I just wanna make sure that-”

“-Y/n. We’re okay. As long as you’re fine, I’m fine.”

Letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in you let yourself relax. You checked your phone and seeing as it was the middle of the night you looked back up at him.

“Guess we should call it a night, huh?”

Dalton nodded and pushed himself off the bed to turn off the light switch. When you realized his destination you stopped him, maybe a little too hastily.

“Wait! Can we leave the lights on?”

His expression softened and you saw a glimpse of that unbearable worry cross his features again, guilt quickly running through his veins again as you continued.

“And, can we sleep together? I just know I won’t be able to fall asleep if it’s just me…”

You were embarrassed to ask him for something so silly but there was no way you’d be able to just forget everything that happened, happened and be able to calm your mind down enough to sleep. With the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard slip through his lips, Dalton came back to the bed and motioned for you to scoot over.

“Of course. Whatever you need I’ll do.”

There was a reason why you fell for him as quickly as you did. There was something about how naturally attentive he was. Under that brooding artist exterior was somebody unconditionally tender despite his humane pitfalls. As you moved your body toward the edge of the bed closest to the wall, Dalton slipped into the bed lifting the covers so the both of you could get comfortable. As he laid down, you wormed yourself to snuggle as close as possible to his body.

“G’night y/n.”

“Goodnight.”

The silence you shared was comfortable but as time ticked by and Dalton’s breathing started to grow heavier, your mind started to wander and grow even more restless. Perhaps it was the newly attached fear of what was entailed when Dalton shut his eyes or maybe it was the fact your eyes were playing tricks on you and you kept seeing figures in the corner of the dorm by your bed. The lights in the room were all on so it’s not like shadows were playing games with you. There was just something you knew wasn’t right and you couldn’t quite place it.

Placing your leg to rest across Dalton’s, you moved more onto your side and clutched your fist into his shirt. Feeling that if you held onto him tighter somehow, someway he’d be less likely to drift away from you. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to shut your eyes. Convincing yourself that your anxiety was bedeviling you to imagine things that weren’t there. Finding solace in hearing the steady pace of Dalton’s heartbeat, your body finally drifted into sleep.

~*~

When your eyes finally fluttered open, Dalton was gone, and the light in the room came from the sun poking through the blinds of the windows. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, when your eyes refocused you could’ve sworn you saw something crouched in the corner by your bed. Feeling your heartbeat accelerate you quickly jumped from the bed and turned on the overhead lights. Feeling safer with the light shining in all the corners that left you with uncertainty.

Finding your phone in the sheets you saw you had about 30 minutes before your first class. Grabbing your toiletry bag, you walked to the bathrooms to get yourself ready for the day. Some people were walking in and out of the bathrooms but not nearly as many when it’s earlier in the morning. In your peripherals, you kept track of the bodies that came and went, which meant you were completely aware when you realized you were the only one in the bathroom.

You examined your body. All of the now garnet markings were now fully settled into your skin and you stared at yourself in pity. Wondering for a swift moment, what you looked like from an outside perspective. Quelling your thoughts, you began brushing your teeth, staring down the bathroom through the mirrors, you kept track of the bottom half of the stalls making sure that you saw no unusual shadows forming. Your anxiety was turning into paranoia and it was getting hard to ignore. Everything from the building settling to a bird flying past the window had you on edge.

Leaning down to spit the remainder of your toothpaste out, you let your guard down a tiny bit. Finishing rinsing your mouth out, when you brought your head back up from the sink a contorted face was behind you in your reflection. The horror that chilled your bones left you frozen when you made contact with a familiar pair of amber irises. The peeling skin on the red and black face behind you was enough to give you nightmares for the next five decades.

Your scream died in your throat, because who would believe you if you told them what you saw? Turning around to face your consternation, you were immediately stunned as you realized there was nothing behind you. It was just you in the bathroom and the now haunting sound of the faucet running. You tried to calm your breathing but you just decided to grab your bag and book it out of the bathroom suddenly not feeling safe, anywhere.

Going back inside your dorm, you were grateful that your class was online today. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it through the process of dressing yourself knowing there’d be a moment in time where you wouldn’t be able to see your surroundings. Grabbing your computer, you sat on Dalton’s bed, needing to be able to see every nook and cranny of the room. Logging into the video call for your class, you started to feel exhausted and almost estranged from your body.

You focused a little bit more when you heard your professor’s voice come through the speakers but it wasn’t for long until you felt yourself drifting away again. As your class was getting ready to wrap up, Dalton pushed through the door canvas first. You wouldn’t have noticed him if his canvas wasn’t whacking against the door. You gave him a small nod acknowledging him and stared back at your screen, almost getting lost in the pixels.

As your professor gave her goodbyes, you felt your eyes growing heavy and soon you were overcome with sleep. Realizing you could relax now with Dalton in the room with you. As your head bobbed, your body woke you up from the sudden movement and you felt like you weren’t connected with yourself. As if you were two separate entities but still in the same body. It felt like you were in a video game watching someone control you.

As Dalton set all of his stuff down, you stretched your arms out looking at him with unintentional doe eyes. He came over to you, letting you wrap your arms around his slim waist as his hands gently caressed your cheeks. Dropping his hands to your shoulders he tried to read your features before asking.

“Everything okay while I was gone?”

You thought about your answer for a moment, almost not wanting to share what you saw earlier today. It felt like something was blocking your ability to speak but you shoved the feeling down with the comfort of your worry standing right in front of you. If you guys were gonna get through this at all you had to be completely transparent with one another.

“I saw this thing while I was in the bathroom today. It had a red and black face and the same yellow eyes as you did last night. Scared the hell outta me.”

As you recited the event to Dalton, his eyes carried a knowing dread, but before he could get the chance to offer any deliberate thought, you suddenly felt overwhelmingly touchy. Pulling at his belt loops to bring him closer to you, you began bunting your face into his stomach. Needing to feel him on you in some sort of capacity.

You felt yourself beginning to drift away from your body again but this time you leaned into the feeling. Falling victim to a conjuration you weren’t even aware of yet. The moment in the bathroom where you held a deep gaze, full of terror with that decrepit monster was one where your body was no longer your own. You know you had to fight for the flesh vessel that was your own but the feelings you had brewing were taking precedence over the ordeal.

“Missed you today. It got so lonely while you were away.”

Dalton was in a state of muddled confusion. His hands were no longer offering you the comfort they did when he first came in, but now he was using them to push you away, attempting to get a better look at you. When you resisted him pushing your body away, he sighed above you trying to find his words.

“Y/n, we can’t just not talk about what you saw. That thing is haunting you now too.”

It was like listening to a conversation between two people inside your head. Whatever you wanted to say would die the moment you opened your mouth and something else wildly different would escape instead.

“I’m not afraid of it anymore–besides, I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I just want you.”

Patting his bed, you told him to sit which he did hesitantly. Once he was on your level, you nestled your head in the conjunction of his neck and shoulders meet. Inhaling his scent discreetly enough that it could be mistaken for a deep breath, his smell made you woozy. Intoxicated.

“I just wanna make you feel good.”

Your eyes were lidded so when Dalton craned his neck to respond to you, he couldn’t quite see your eyes.

“Y/n, I don’t think we should~mm!”

His words suddenly grew stale on his tongue as you moved your body to kiss him. As his eyes widened, you closed yours conveying your need for him. He took a few seconds to reciprocate the gesture, but once he did you took full opportunity to get him on his back and present himself to you. You broke the kiss so that his legs could fully get on the bed and you were swift to straddle him.

Gunning for his lips again, you didn’t give him much time for refusal. Your hands wandered his body committing all of curves to memory. Breaking the kiss, you allowed him to catch his breath but within seconds you were on his jawline placing open mouthed kisses along his skin. Moving your attack to his neck, you found his sweet spot tucked right below his ear. Dalton whined out and it was apparent that the noise that came out of him surprised him by how quickly he silenced himself. He couldn’t see it but there was a wicked smile that spread across your face knowing he was right where you needed him.

“Don’t go silent on me, baby. I wanna hear you scream.”

Licking a stripe up from the base of his neck to his sweet spot, you bit at the skin. A small moan followed by a hiss escaped his mouth and when you pulled away you were pleased that the mark you left looked similar to your own. You started to feel Dalton relax into the feeling of the pleasure you were giving him and you started to feel the bulge in his pants begin to strain against the fabric. Returning your assault to his slightly swollen lips now, you rolled your hips over his. Barely satisfying the ache you were beginning to feel pool between your legs.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him and began to snake your hand down his body, your head hovering over the trail you made till you met the hem of his jeans. Taking one finger, you swiped across the fabric, your nails gently scratching at the skin above it. Goosebumps blooming across his skin, you heard him whine above you.

“Y/n/n, please.”

With the angle you were at, a derisive smirk cast on your face but Dalton couldn’t see that. Unbuckling his belt and undoing the zipper and button of his pants, you finally looked up at him. Your smirk turning into a full on grin when you saw the fear that quickly painted his features. His body froze and his breathing became labored, trying to persuade himself into thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. But as he blinked rapidly, the scene in front of him didn’t change.

Those golden irises had replaced the eyes he had grown so fond of. The grin that stayed plastered on your face was discomposing to him and gratifying to your own desire. You palmed his dick through the fabric and that motion brought him back to his body. Trying to squirm out from underneath you flared your hand and an invisible force kept his body pinned to the bed. Coming back up to be face to face with Dalton, your smile faded and your eyebrows furrowed with feigned worry.

Petting his cheek, he tried to move away from your hand but his attempt was futile. Whatever was pinning him down had no intentions of letting him go any time soon. With an ersatz version of sympathy painting your features you finally spoke. Your voice altered a familiar rasp in your tone.

“Don’t you want me, Dalton?”

Snaking back down to his undone pants, you pulled them off with his underwear just enough so that his weeping, blush tipped cock was freed from its confinements. As his cock rested on his stomach, you flattened your tongue to drag up from his balls to his tip. Dalton’s body reluctantly rolled up in reaction to how sensitive he was.

“Don’t you want me to make you feel good, baby?”

Grabbing the base of his cock, you gathered up enough spit to dangle a wad down onto his tip. Circling his tip with your tongue, your hand collected the spit and spread it down his shaft. Fully encasing your mouth around his tip, Dalton hissed at the unexpected action. Prodding your tongue out against his shaft every time your head bobbed down, Dalton’s body was squirming at the newfound euphoria he was feeling.

Picking up your pace, you slowed down every time his sounds got a little bit louder, wanting to see how long he could hold out for. As he involuntarily rolled his hips into your mouth, you pulled off of him completely causing a small whine to squeeze past his lips. Dalton was so wrapped up in the feeling of your body sending him into a state of sexual haze that almost forgot it wasn't really you. As your possessed form hovered over his face again, you continued to stroke his cock as you spoke.

“To think you spent all the time taking care of her last night just to let the same thing happen to you…”

Suddenly the pressure that he once felt on his body was gone and he turned his face away so he wouldn’t have to commit your yellowed eyes to memory. A flash of impassioned rage coursed through your veins as you brought your free hand to grab the sides of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you. You’re both disgusting getting off on this, but for some reason, I think you’ll have an easier time admitting your guilt.”

Dalton’s eyes widened in fear and realization of what his body was about to release. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes rolled back allowing only the whites of his eyes to be seen. You relished in his irrefutable ecstasy and moved back down to his heavy cock. Wrapping your lips around his prurient length, you massaged his balls and with a few bobs of your head, Dalton released his load into your mouth. The velocity of his spurts of cum tickling the back of your throat.

Dalton was in a hazed rapture. Fighting with his morals of how wrong the situation was but how good it all felt. His legs stiffened and he fisted his hands into his sheets in a desperate attempt to ground himself from the absolute pleasure coursing through him. You continued sucking at his length, overstimulating, and milking him of all he had. The moans that left him were airy but frequent, with the occasional low tone coming through them. You couldn’t deny the pulsing that was happening between your legs every time a sound left him. He was completely at your mercy

“Stop stop stop.”

When the pleasure became too much, Dalton pushed at your head to get you off of him. The overstimulation pushed him to a state he had never been in before. As Dalton tried to catch his breath, you removed yourself from your underwear and placed your heat on top of his length rolling your hips to get some type of friction. You were hungry, needy for some type of sexual zeal and there was only one thing that could satisfy this ache. Dalton.

Dalton’s eyes were heavy and shameless, still recovering from the aftershocks of his orgasm he writhed in tandem with the movement of your hips. Slowly examining his face, you carded your fingers through his hair, moving back a few stray pieces. He looked completely fucked out, so much so that you almost felt he didn’t deserve anything else.

Placing your lips upon his, you dribbled some of his cum back into his mouth. His eyes blew open and his cries were muffled. The sudden taste of his own briny and tangy juices being spat into his mouth was more than unexpected. When you pulled away from him, there was a concoction of spit and cum smeared around his mouth. Gripping his face in your hand again, your amber eyes held a certain dominance and wicked enjoyment that sent chills up Dalton’s spine. Whether out of fear or arousal, he couldn't place nor did he have the capacity to after your demand.

“Swallow.”

As Dalton was overcome with an overzealous desire gift wrapped in terror, he failed to notice your body moving for its next attack. Before Dalton had the chance to realize what was going on, his ruined and wanton cock was slipped into your beatific cunt. The moan that left Dalton was whorish in nature and barely sounded like it was his own.

“Shit!”

Without missing a beat you began bouncing on his cock with complete and utter ardor and empressement. Each time your lower bodies connected your clit so deliciously rubbed against him sending lascivious chills across your skin and an aching pulse within your walls. Dalton’s head was rubbing into the pillow beneath him, his eyes closed in what felt like divine ecstasy. Again, you were met with an overwhelming urge to reprimand him. Raising your hand mid air, it gained enough speed to usher a slap that echoed in the room.

His eyes opened immediately, stupified by the sting that was spidering across the surface of his skin. Switching to roll your hips so you could get as much friction on your meretricious cunt. You were leaking all over him, your sickeningly angelic juices were marking him as your own. Panting and grounding himself to find his voice, Dalton looked up at you, eyes and body drunk on your pussy.

“Why, why did you slap me?”

Something similar to a growl rumbled in your throat as a sinful giggle left your mouth.

“Aww, baby, did it hurt? Here, I’ll kiss it better.”

Slowing down your hips, you leaned forward and sloppily licked over Dalton’s cheek and then leaving what resembled a tender kiss on his skin. The small act of tenderness made a glimmer of hope bubble in his stomach thinking that maybe the worst was over. But as you moved away from his cheek, he was unfortunately still met with your yellowed irises. Dalton didn’t have long to stare before you ducked your head down again, licking at the barely dried concoction of cum and spit that was still littered around his mouth.

Cleaning up the mess with your tongue you straightened yourself out, placing your hands on his torso taking him in in such a state. Caressing your hands down the sides of his ribcage a filthy idea conquered your mind. Grabbing Dalton’s wrists, you placed his hands on your hips and smiled down at him.

“Fuck me. Like it’s the only thing your good for. Make me cum.”

Like a dog, he was quick to action. Situating himself so that he had better leverage, Dalton began pounding into you from underneath. He was whining, whimpering, and had the most endearing face of focus. Eyebrows furrowed, lips curled around his teeth trying to pacify his sounds, and a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Fuck! I-I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last. Y/n~ah!”

“Aww, you’re gonna cum? Did you ask if you could fucking cum?”

“No, no I didn’t. I’m s-sorry.”

You gripped his face again, making sure that he’d see flash images of this for days. Pushing on the sides of cheeks, you forced his mouth to pry open prepping a wad of spit in your own.

“Open.”

Dalton complied and you set free the wad of spit directly into his mouth and he swallowed without instruction to do so. With his hips stilled you started bouncing on his cock again, relishing in how each inch slid in and out of you. The stretch of his length alerting you to something else. Your walls were clenching around his throbbing cock and he moaned out in protest.

“Please, please let me cum!”

“Beggin' now?”

Your tone was disgustingly smug, the demon possessing you well aware of what it was doing to your relationship. As if someone just woke you up from a nap, suddenly the pleasure that your body was feeling was becoming more and more overwhelming. You were becoming more aware and what entity that was fronting as you was beginning to fade away. Dalton’s voice hissing out in utter euphoria brought you back to your body completely.

“Fuck, please! I can’t hold it.”

You couldn’t stop your body from its carnal instinct to keep moving and to run over that precipice of full body bliss. As the warmth exploded in your core, your body gushed over Dalton’s. The euphoria your body felt unable to control how it escaped you. As you were coming down from your high, your body was still moving and you felt your walls become stained with a fountain of ivory strokes. The sound that left Dalton was so choked and full of fervor, you couldn’t help the involuntary fluttering your flooded pussy had around his cock.

The room was sticky and hot, the only sound being the heavy breaths from both of you trying to calm your bodies down. You weren’t sure whether to move or to just continue staring at Dalton’s limp form. Running your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttered open, more than delighted to see the warmness of your eyes back. The vibrant yellow hue nowhere to be seen. The confused haze you were in earlier was not present either. You were completely aware and were contending with the fact that it happened again. What you didn’t expect was the faint apology that came from Dalton.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“For what?”

“All of this.”

You sighed not entirely sure if you should be having this conversation while he was still winding down and still inside of you.

“Let’s save the serious conversations for when we’re not fucked out and the room doesn’t smell of sex.”

Dalton chuckled lightly, feeling so relieved that it was you again. His intuition hadn’t proved him wrong yet but he felt like there was no way this could occur a third time. Whatever that entity wanted it got and that was satisfactory enough for him. Sliding off of Dalton, you laid on your side next to him.

“We should probably go wash up, huh?”

Dalton nodded but he didn’t make any motion to move. Instead, he grabbed your body and pulled you closer to him.

“Yeah, but let’s just lay here for a moment. I need to remember what you feel like.”

Letting your hand wander up to his hair again, you carded through his locks admiring his face. He leaned into the feeling, pushing his face into your hand as you caressed down his face. Swiping your thumb across his cheek a small shred of doubt crept up.

“We gonna be okay?”

Dalton laughed through his nose, the sentiment absolving you of your doubt.

“Yeah, y/n. We’re gonna be okay.”

[darling-i-read-it]

Frat Party

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

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

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

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

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

(not my gif)

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

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

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

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” 

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

“Fine.” 

“Yes!” “Sweet!” 

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

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

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

“It’ll be fun,” you promised. 

“If you say so.” -

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

You nudged him. 

“Lighten up,” you said. 

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

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

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

“Dalton?” 

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

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

“You want some?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

You tried the next door. Locked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright,” you said. 

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

“Chris,” you said. 

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

“We’re going back to the dorms.” 

“We just got here!” she exclaimed. 

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

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

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

“Damn guys.”

[justanoasisimagines]

Sweetheart

Hey my lovelies, back with another love letter. My requests are open and you can find my request guidlines pinned to the top of the page! Also if you have any Autumn/Halloween requests send them in! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

I hate to be away from you, but work is work and it gives me the opportunity to provide for you in hopes we can comfortably. I don't want you working all hours at the Tavern. I have seen how the owner and the patrons treat you. It isn't acceptable love. No one needs to speak to someone that way. To treat you as if you are less than. I don't want you working there anymore which I've been working so hard. I want to help you make your dreams come true. I want you to set up your stool on the market, to say your wares. We could travel together this way. I wouldn't have to be away from you all summer. Then in the winter, we could retire to Kaer Morhen. As almost like a break at the end of a long year. You've always loved in there in the snow. Perhaps, we can find a space in the castle so we can get away from the others from time to time. They are my family, but we need our privacy. I'll be stopping by in the next moon cycle or so depending on work. I love you, Lambert x

[elmonstro]

Short comic based on this drabble by @she-who-drank-vodka-with-cats which was really inspiring (I hope you don’t mind).

Thanks to @lakka-arts for the help <3

[fluentmoviequoter]

You're All Mine

Summary: Dalton makes a new friend who doesn't mind his shyness. Essentially, it's "introverts don't make friends, they get adopted by extroverts," but Dalton is the introvert and you, reader, are the extrovert. 1.5k+ words

Requested: Yes - "innocent shy dalton x outgoing reader"

Warnings: fluff, implication of third party alcohol consumption, brief mention of making out... I think that's all

A/N: I am in absolutely no way outgoing or extroverted so I based the reader's outgoing attributes on various characters. I hope I did the request justice and feel free to let me know what you think! Enjoy :)

“Whoa, those are amazing! Did you do all of them?”

Dalton turns quickly at the sound of an unfamiliar voice inside his dorm room.

“Sorry.” You smile and apologize once you see the startled look on his face. “I was walking down the hall and your door was open, so I saw your art.” You gesture toward all the paintings and drawings hanging over his bed. “They’re really good.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

“Where are my manners?” You ask rhetorically before introducing yourself and sticking your hand out for Dalton to take.

He gently shakes your hand - only once - before taking his hand back and saying his name.

“Nice to meet you, Dalton. See you around,” you promise before walking down the hallway.

Dalton sighs and sits back down, trying to remember what he was doing before you came in.

Somehow, Dalton ended up at a frat party. Internally, he wants to curse his temporary roommate Chris for bringing him, but he is too busy trying to make himself as small and invisible as possible. Once through the front door, Dalton hopes the crowd will keep him hidden. As Chris drags him through the crowd, he hears a familiar voice.

“No, it’s no problem, swear! I’ll be right back!” You say somewhere behind him.

Were you that sweet to him? he wonders. He had been caught off guard when you just appeared earlier.

“I am so sorry,” you say as you bump into Chris, gently grabbing her shoulder to right her. “Dalton!” You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

Dalton’s eyes widen, and his facial expression is pure fear as he looks at Chris over your shoulder. She makes a hugging motion and points at you, which leads him to slowly wrap his arms around your waist.

“I did not think I’d see you here. I wasn’t planning on coming either - you know how frat guys are - but my roommate didn’t want to come alone, so,” you trail off and shrug as you pull back, a smile that seems much too genuine for the setting on your face.

“I know the feeling,” Dalton grumbles under his breath.

“Do you want anything? I’m going to grab some of my friends a drink.” You look between Chris and Dalton as they politely decline. “Then I guess I’ll see you later! Great seeing you, Dalton.”

Dalton watches as you expertly move through the crowd and wonders if you purposefully bumped into Chris, considering you haven’t come close to anyone else. He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Chris grabbing his forearm.

“Daydream later, Dolphin, we have frat boy belongings to go through,” she says as she drags him to the stairs.

Dalton looks around the bedroom with his hand in his pockets while Chris opens drawers and rifles around on the desktop. Chris hears someone coming and considers kissing Dalton for a distraction, then thinks again and decides the chances of it being his first kiss are too high, and she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Oh.” You stop as you realize someone is occupying the room. When you see who, you wonder if you wrongly evaluated Dalton; maybe he isn’t as shy and innocent as he seems. “I’ll - uh - give you two some privacy.”

Once the door is closed, Dalton looks at Chris with furrowed brows and downturned lips. “Privacy? Why?”

“How do you even know her, Dalton?” Chris asks with a laugh. “Chase her down and try to talk to her. For me?”

Dalton seems to contemplate the request before walking out of the room.

“Go get her, tiger - I mean Dolphin!” Chris yells down the hall behind him.

You’re on the front porch with a small group of people when Dalton finally finds you. Unsure of how to approach, he stands to the side and looks in your general direction, waiting for you to notice him. When you finally look away from the person talking, you see Dalton and smile, gesturing with your hand for him to come over. He shakes his head, a movement so small you only know it happened because his hair moves. You smile and say something to the girl beside you before setting your cup down and walking to him.

“Enjoying the party?” You ask.

“Why-“ Dalton clears his throat and starts over, “Whatever you think was happening upstairs wasn’t. Chris was just digging through his stuff.”

Your smile grows at his rushed explanation. “Oh, ok. If anyone deserves to have their personal belongings messed with, it’s Nick.”

Dalton nods, his hands nervously tucking in and out of his pockets.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you offer. “These things only get crazier from here.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere you want. You can go home, we can go get milkshakes, make out under a tree,” you add the last one nonchalantly for the entertaining reaction you anticipate Dalton will give.

Dalton nods with your first two suggestions, then nearly chokes on air with the last one. You instantly feel bad, placing a hand on his arm as you apologize and explain it was a joke.

“It’s fine,” Dalton says, a small smile forming. “Milkshakes sound good. If you meant it?”

“I always mean it when I bring up milkshakes. Let’s go; my treat.”

You grab Dalton’s hand and interlace your fingers without thinking, not noticing how he stares at your hands as he walks beside you.

“What’s your milkshake poison?” You ask as you join Dalton in the booth, sliding in beside him rather than across from him.

He shrugs as he glances at you.

“I like chocolate,” you explain, “I know it’s basic, but is chocolate ever the wrong answer?”

“I like chocolate,” Dalton agrees.

“One or two?” Dalton looks confused, so you add, “Milkshakes. Do you want to share one or get two?”

“Oh. Um, we can share. I guess. If it’s ok with you.”

“Dalton, two things you should know as my new best friend, I only share food with my friends, and I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.”

“Best friend?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re all mine now.”

The smile you send him makes Dalton think maybe that isn’t so bad. He watches you greet the waitress and ask how her day is going, talking to her about her law school classes before ordering one chocolate milkshake with two straws. He wonders how someone that goes to frat parties with no problem can be so kind. He also wonders how he is lucky enough to be ‘all yours.’

“How are your classes so far? I mean, I’m not convinced you need art classes based on what I saw in your dorm, but are you enjoying them?” You ask as you wait for the milkshake.

“They’re good. Interesting. My teacher’s a little… out there, I guess.”

“Who isn’t?” You ask with a laugh.

He smiles and asks which school you’re attending, hanging on your every word as you answer.

“One chocolate milkshake, two straws. Can I get anything else for you two?” The waitress asks as she sets the milkshake between you and Dalton.

You glance at him, and he shakes his head, so you respond, “No, we’re good. Thank you so much, and good luck on your BAR exam!”

You turn to Dalton and gesture to the milkshake, “After you.”

“You paid for it,” Dalton argues.

You smile at his sudden boldness before stating, “Which means I get to decide. You try it first.”

Dalton concedes and takes a sip, eyes widening at the intense chocolate flavor.

“Whoa.”

“I know, right?” You gush. “I come here every chance I get. They put espresso beans in to amplify the chocolate flavor; it’s my favorite milkshake in the whole world.”

“Which dorm do you live in?” You ask as you exit the diner with your hand in Dalton's, mentally creating a route to both of your dorms. “Yours is on the way to mine, so I can drop you off.”

“My dad would kill me if I didn’t walk you home,” Dalton states.

“Really?” You giggle as you wrap your free hand around his forearm, not noticing the way his breath catches at your touch.

“Probably not, but it’s still the gentlemanly thing to do,” Dalton says after a moment.

“Well, you have class in the morning, so I relieve you of your gentleman duties. But only for tonight.”

You walk in a comfortable silence, insisting on accompanying Dalton to his dorm room door once you arrive.

“This was fun, Dalton. We should do it again.”

Dalton nods and misses the warmth of your hand as you take it back.

“Maybe we’ll skip the frat party next time.”

“That would be nice.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dalton,” you say, wrapping him in a quick hug before leaving for your dorm.

“Tomorrow?” He asks.

You turn back, the smile you’d been wearing all night widening. “Oh yeah. I meant it when I said you’re mine now. Goodnight, Dalton.”

He watches as you disappear around the corner, with no thoughts of darkness in his mind. He doesn’t even register the sound of the door opening until Chris speaks, “You, my weird Dolphin, just got adopted by an extrovert.”

Dalton looks at her and blushes as she adds, “A very pretty extrovert.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

YoHi! I really like your posts;), I wanted to order a romantic one of Cotl, a Lambert meeting a S/o who is also a lamb? I can imagine how much he got attached and happy to find another one just like him

Lambert x lamb!reader

speed writing this while my silly little period of sadness dies down a little because my ass cannot focus while im like that grrrrrrr notes: reader is gn, lamb reader, short post cws: mentions of mass death and murder, canon typical stuff

to say you both cling onto one another the second you find each other is... a soft way of saying it

they always mask themselves as this put together leader who is bothered by nothing- but the fact that there is still another lamb takes them out of it for a moment

and if they find you in the process of being sacrificed by cultists?

you blink and the next second all of them are dead, and youre being cut from your restraints

even after the danger is over and youre brought back to the cult you hover around each other a lot

of course they ask if there were others with you, and visibly wilts when you say there werent

the bishops of the old faith were thorough when purging sheepkind- but not enough, leaving just the two of you behind

naturally theres some bias for you, you ascend the ranks of the cult- from simple follower to disicple

and the second they get a golden skull necklace, theyre giving it to you

better than constantly dying and getting ressurected

the dread they feel when you die for the first time cannot be put into words, they scramble to bring you back as soon as possible

you both have clothing made with some of each other's wool- id like to view it the same way as when people wore necklaces with their loved ones hair in it... you carry a piece of each other everywhere you go

so gentle with you, but when they hold you their grip is firm

not enough to hurt you, but they seem scared that someone is going to steal you away

loves showing you some of the areas around the cult's grounds- maybe they can take you fishing.. just the two of them!

doesnt want you to go on crusades with them, though, and refuses to let you leave the grounds without a missionary necklace

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

witchers x maleficent!/fae!reader

summary: how witcher characters would react to someone having maleficent type horns/wings and magic

notes: got this out just in time for the new season phew

warnings: gn!reader, lambert the middle schooler, jaskier's composing

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @lu-in-the-library @sunndust (msg me to be added!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

Geralt

He’s mostly just praying that fate isn’t throwing another curveball at him

Sureeee he’ll spend time with you!! (his fingers are crossed and he’s praying let them be normal let them be normal

Will end up totally accepting you, but he doesn’t love the attention that comes from being a witcher in the company of a fae

He secretly adores your wings

Jaskier

Immediately in song-writing mood

Will make up things about your life to fabricate contents for his ballads

Won’t treat you very different from his other ~weird~ friends

Loves loves loves the attention that comes with it (read: basks in it like the sun)

Yennefer

Yen is fascinated

The academic in her wants to tell her colleagues

And the girl who was all alone and abandoned in her absolutely adores you

You’d do good to make sure that she’s on your side, or she might sell you out

Definitely wants a piece of your magic either way

Ciri

Poor ciri

Eugh she just wants some friends

That don’t die…

She loves your horns and wings

Definitely adores you for also being *different* and having your own magic thing going on

Eskel

He adores your wings

If there is a wing care routing, please let this man do it

Otherwise, he might invent a conditioner-potion for your wings

Don’t scare him in the beginning though, or you may get stabbed

Lambert

Has the reaction of a seventh-grader

Might literally go woahhhhhh

Big hater, but not against you

Will protect you, but will also ask you if you can carry stuff with your horns constantly

Yeah becoming a christmas tree-esque creature may be a con

Coen

Coen honestly just enjoys a helping hand

Your magic will in fact be contributing to his work

Tbf he also makes sure you don’t get killed by angry farmers

The whole thing starts off as a symbiotic relationship but will turn into a friendship (if not more hehe)

Vesemir

Bro does not trust you

Thots and prayers girldude

Oh you have horns and wings? LIKE A MONSTER??

Unless one of his witchers (read:children) introduces you to him, he may attempt murder

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Licentious Affairs

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, definitely dub-con, a little non-con, use of restraints, having sex with a demon, some animalistic behaviors, descriptions of blood, biting, degrading, hair pulling and i think that's everything

summary: you and dalton grew closer over the course of the fall semester. you sense a mutual feeling but still, a crush feels forbidden. on the night that dalton decides he needs to unlock all his memories for good, something possesses his earthly form and you’re left at its mercy. 

a/n: when i saw the new installment of this franchise, something about him being possessed had me kicking my feet and giggling. this is 100% self indulgent bc I feel like this is so niche lol. it strays from the events in the film(obvi) but I hope whoever comes across enjoys and i'll get back to my kpop postings shortly :3 ~nero

possessed!Dalton Lambert x female reader

word count: 4.4k

pt.2

The breeze was crisp and the trees were warm bouquets of orange, yellow, and sun-bleached green. As you walked across campus, the leaves crunching under your feet you appreciated the change in season. Wrapping yourself a little tighter in your knitted cardigan, you pulled out your phone checking your notifications. Swiping out of your social media a message from Dalton popped up on your screen. 

van gogh: r u out of class yet 

y/n: walking to the dorm rn

van gogh: okay, i’ve got something to show you

Turning the volume up on your music and stuffing your phone back into your stubby front pocket, you continued your walk to the dorm. Your mind was scattering all the different possibilities of what Dalton could’ve found out. Since the beginning of the semester, his art professor had been unleashing techniques on him to tap into a deeper artistic space. Through this theory of unlocking, he opened up memories that were tucked away so tightly that he forgot they were his own. Throughout the semester, you’ve been forced to be around his revelations as you were his dorm mate, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy his company. 

At first, you thought it was just you being good-natured and wanting to extend a hand to him in a time of need. But as his walls crumbled down you wormed your way in and slowly you found you guys becoming quite close. Opening the main doors to your dorm building the way the air felt never failed to bother you. The brick walls made it constantly humid and it was borderline suffocating with how many bodies passed through the day. Dragging your feet across the floor, you began to feel the day place its weight on your body. You felt another vibration in your pocket but ignored it, deciding to look at the notification once you got settled in. 

Opening the door to your room, you were met with Dalton hunched over the canvas of his current piece. He was so focused on the painting that he didn’t hear you come in until the door clicked shut. You dropped your bag on the floor and he finally looked up. 

“Hey. Didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Yeah, you looked pretty focused on that freaky ass painting.” 

“If not for this freaky ass painting, I’d still be “boring.”’

Flopping onto your bed, you chuckled remembering the first interaction you guys had with each other. You so desperately were trying to break the ice with your roommate and least to say it was the smallest bit painful getting some info out of him. As Dalton added the last few strokes of creativity, he put down his brush and wiped his hands off with a rag. Meanwhile, you were getting lost in his every move. You were tracing him, the way he moved, really just the way he existed. Losing yourself in your thoughts you didn’t hear him calling your name. 

“Y/n…y/n? Are you even here right now?” “Huh?- Sorry was spacing out, long day.” 

You were praying that somehow he wouldn’t think too much of it and just pass it off as you disassociating and not internally doting on him. You sat up as he walked over to your bed, the mattress shifting as he sat. 

“So you know how we learned I can astral project right?”

You nodded and raised your eyebrows urging him to go on. 

“Well, I think, whatever I’m remembering–if I finish that painting I’ll remember everything.” 

You looked at him, brows furrowing and your eyes showing an incredulous type of fear. Memories from the last time he projected flooded your mind. Whatever was stalking that other plane had it out not only for Dalton but for anyone in his vicinity. It left you stricken, but subconsciously you knew you couldn’t leave Dalton to deal with it alone. 

“You wanna…go back again?”

“I think it’s my only option y/n.”

You sighed knowing there was really nothing you could do to get him to think otherwise. You stared off toward the cryptic painting searching your brain for a solution that didn’t involve him going back to that other world. Nodding, more towards yourself, you looked back at Dalton. 

“Okay. When are we doing this?”

There was a small flash of a ‘thank you’ that graced his features. The relationship you shared was beyond the parameters of normal but it was exactly that that allowed you guys to grow so close with one another so quickly. He let out a sigh a dour expression taking over. 

“Tonight.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line forcing yourself to become comfortable with the reality of the situation. Slightly nodding, you stood up grabbing your bag from the floor. 

“Alright. I’ll be right back. Just gonna run and grab some fairy lights so I can have some source of light in here while you play Sherlock Holmes in the upside down.” 

Dalton cracked a smile, a small chuckle escaping him. It was something that softened the heaviness of the situation, lifting the tension not only between you two but for your anxieties. It also made something flutter in your stomach, something you’ve desperately been trying to swallow scared of what would happen if he were to find out. You were about to open the door but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. 

“Your phone.” 

A gentle smile stretched across his face and there was something softer about him in this particular moment. Maybe it was the knowledge of the impending doom that would ensue in a few hours or maybe it was just two people being vulnerable. You weren’t sure what came over you but the urge to hug him was impossible to pass over and your body moved faster than your mind could react. Your arms wrapped around him finding relief and comfort in him returning the gesture so quickly. 

Pulling away from him you found a certain softness swimming in his eyes that you never noticed before. Feeling slightly overwhelmed and bashful you fiddled with your fingertips attempting to wash away the anxiety that was running through you. 

“Thanks. I won’t be too long.” 

Dalton nodded and you slipped out of the doorway. As you walked down the hallway to leave the building you were fighting a more than enthusiastic grin as you felt those same pesky feelings flutter through your being. If only you had a similar gift to Dalton’s you’d be able to see that he was feeling the exact same way. As soon as you left the dorm he sat back on his bed, his hands trying to wipe away the elation he felt from the hug you shared. He was fighting a similar demon as your own, the fabrication of feelings–a crush. 

As he laid back on his bed he was running through all his favorite parts of you, something that he didn’t think he could say out loud. His mind was in too many places at once, going back and forth between the budding feelings he felt for you and the unfortunate calamity that he was going to have to face not long after you came back. 

Coming out of the corner store, you were surprised by how fast the sun began to tuck behind the mountains. You had an interesting relationship with the fall season, loving how the weather changed and the natural warmness that fall carried. By the same token though, you wished daylight lasted a bit longer, especially tonight. You wished the sun would never set so neither one of you would have to experience the ire that attaches itself to Dalton when the night approaches. 

When you got back into the dorm building, there was a formidable sense of dread that you felt settle in your stomach. You tried to brush it off as anxiety now that the navy blanket of night was cast over the sky, but as you approached your dorm the feeling only worsened. Taking a deep breath as you turned the handle of the door, you exhaled as you entered the room, dropping your bag by the door and tossing the bag of lights on your bed. 

You were about to announce your arrival to Dalton but were surprised to find him asleep on his bed. You were gone for maybe half an hour so you didn’t think he’d be too deep in sleep. Admiring his form you quelled your thoughts by grabbing the box of lights out of the grocery bag and began to unravel them while calling out to Dalton. 

“Dalton…Dalton.” 

Plugging the lights in the wall, you called for him one more time before deciding to walk over and shake him up. But when you turned around, he was already sitting up on his bed. It spooked you because you didn’t hear him move.

“Jesus! Make a noise or you know, yawn or something. Scared the shit outta me.” You nervously giggled. That sickly feeling found its way back in your stomach again and you couldn’t quite figure out why. Moving the string of lights around your bed, you found Dalton being more quiet than usual and you ruled that to be the reason why your stomach was turning in knots. 

“You alright man? You’re being more weird than usual.” 

Silence. Crippling silence. 

Chills ran up your body and you tried desperately to feel some sense of normality about the situation. Dalton got up from his bed and walked over to his canvas, running his fingers over the freshly dried paint. He forced some extra air out of his nose somewhat resembling something of a laugh. You kept yourself on high alert as you walked over to your bag to grab your phone. As you got your phone and turned around your eyes met Dalton’s frame huddled in the corner of the room closest to your bed. 

The way the string of lights illuminated him caused that sinking feeling to turn into something more dire. You started to go beyond the safety of things just being “weird” and recognized it was fear settling into your bones. Dalton’s shoulders were quivering almost resembling what a laugh would look like but no noise was coming out. 

“Dalton, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

Ignoring your intuition, you slowly walked over to him, hoping that the lights would let you see something that you were missing from your distance away from him. You left a couple feet in between you two and you called out to him again, only this time he turned his head slowly in your direction. Any rumination of worry about your friend was quickly replaced with terror once his head turned enough for you to see his eyes. They weren’t his own. They were yellow and held malicious intent. 

You wanted to stand your ground but the gasp that left you made a sound before you could stop it. You watched a smirk grow on Dalton’s face and as you broke your chains of frozen fear, you turned around in an attempt to reach the door. Before you could take your second step towards your escape, your feet left the safety of the ground and your body was flung through the air. 

Hitting the art wall adjacent to Dalton’s bed your body flopped onto his bed, a shield of sheets as your protection. In a poor attempt to quickly figure out an escape you instead were met with the evil incarnate of Dalton. Your heart was pounding, fear and a dread of the unknown at the forefront of your mind. His frame was looming, staring you down like fresh prey. You gripped the bed sheets staring him down trying to convince yourself you weren’t fearful. Your plan was successful, but the longer you looked at him the easier it became for something more sinister to eclipse your emotions. 

Lust. 

A salacious intent swapping out the fear of him for the fear of yourself and your own emotions. Why were you feeling this? Could whatever was using Dalton as a vessel hear your thoughts? How could you look at him the same way after this? All of your questions were pushed to the back of your mind as the door to your dorm slowly opened and Dalton turned towards it. You saw nothing in the doorway but almost like a warning, a low timbre shriek echoed from his throat as a bloody goop tumbled out of his mouth. 

Whatever was entering the door from the other side left, the door clicking shut and his attention was unfortunately back on you. With a feeble bid, you hoped that calling to Dalton would release him of whatever had a hold on him. As Dalton turned around to grab the cord of lights from the wall, the way he stalked back over to you sent a familiar feeling to pool in your stomach.

“Dalton…I know you’re in there. Dal-”

“-To be face to face with what was keeping me from him recently was not what I expected to see. Nor did I expect it to be so filthy.” 

It felt like someone was trying to steal your heart from its chest. There was a certain grit to his tone that was not Dalton’s and you weren’t quite sure if it frightened you or excited you. As he wrapped the cord around his hand he stalked closer to you on the bed. 

“Most would be terrified in a situation like this, but you? I can smell you. It’s hard to ignore really.” 

You backed further to the wall suddenly facing the reality of your situation. Your heart sped up but not out of fear. The closer he got the more aroused you became but you didn’t want to admit that to yourself just yet. Before you had an understanding of what was going on in front of you, your wrists were taken and tied to the bedpost with the cord Dalton was winding up. 

“No!” 

A sudden urge to fight back, you weren’t sure if this was something you wanted under the given circumstances. As you tried to push back against the cord, an unseen force was pinning your body to the bed. Your vision was obstructed by the fabric of Dalton’s baggy long sleeve but the overwhelming feeling of arousal was something you couldn’t ignore when he moved to face you and you looked directly into his yellowed eyes. 

His hand snaked down the front of your body leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It was a twisted feeling, you dreamt of a moment like this but with the given situation you were struggling if it was right. As his hand toyed with the button of your jeans any doubt about the situation was pushed to the back of your mind and a gritty tone echoed in the silence of the room.

“It’s funny. Hearing you think you have enough strength to deny yourself pleasure.” 

You arched your eyebrow confused by his admission. He took heed of this and answered before you had a chance to vocalize your thoughts. He leaned forward stalking over your body before he placed himself next to the shell of your ear. 

“Your thoughts are so loud. Louder than his–if only…he could be the one to see you like this. He’s wished for it.” He pulled away grinning at you in a way that made your walls flutter around nothing. You wondered if the confession of your Dalton “wishing for it” was real or just something the entity used to get under your skin. 

You didn’t have much time to think on the matter as your heart rate picked up again at the unfortunate realization that you, were enjoying this. The smirk that rested on Dalton’s face let you in on the sadistic pleasure of whatever was taking control of him was feeling. Before Dalton moved away from the shell of your ear, he took a deep inhale of the scent of your neck. 

Humming in relish, he nipped at your earlobe gingerly pulling at the skin as he snaked down your body once more. You wish you had more control but the whimper that left your throat was something instinctive. As this primal version of Dalton reached your hips, your zipper was quickly unfastened and your pants were tossed to the other side of the room 

Dalton moved his legs so that he was no longer straddling your own and situated himself in between them. Sliding toward the edge of the bed, he slid down enough to be face first with your messy cunt. Your desire soaking through the fabric leaving no room for doubt in your feelings. Shoving his nose into your drenched panties, he huffed the scent of you a second time causing you to squirm away from the action. 

Closing your eyes and rolling your lips around your teeth, you tried to silence your whines to collect yourself. Once again trying to convince yourself that you had more power over your bodily wants and needs.

“Stop, please.” 

Your plea was met with a sardonic giggle and as you looked down and was met with the sick glow of his yellow eyes. Dalton stalked back up your body, hovering over your face and clicking his tongue at you mockingly. As you were entranced by the figure above you, you failed to realize that he unbound your wrists from the cord. The sudden freedom surprised you but was swallowed by the feeling of his hand slithering in your panties and rubbing his finger across your slick folds. 

Your body shuddered in hedonism, rolling your hips up into the feeling. As one finger slipped its way into your slick cavern your hands found solace in fisting the sheets. As he entered a second finger you couldn’t contain your sounds. 

“Ah~! I can’t believe this is happening. I can’tbelievethisishappening.”

In your stupor of sexual panic, a low chuckle brought you back down to your body. His fingers curled inside of you repeatedly hitting the special spongey spot you cherished so much. As your moans became more frequent and less controlled, he removed his fingers from your pulsating hole and ripped your panties off of your sensitive frame. You whined out not only at the loss of contact but at the sudden cool air that breezed over your skin. Settling into your body you were panting heavily as you stared down Dalton. 

His yellowed eyes still igniting fear but simultaneously leaving you wanton and in a state of ache. That conflicting feeling flooded your brain again and soon felt guilt peering over the horizon. Before you were given the chance to wrestle with your thoughts, Dalton straddled himself over your body. One hand grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks to pry your mouth open just enough to shove his fingers into your mouth. He looked down at you, a small smirk adorning his face.

“Suck.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden roughness you complied immediately not wanting to make the situation even more escalated. Your eyebrows furrow, your face plagued with anxiety as you watch Dalton come closer to your face. The leftover stain of blood that was on his chin smeared across your lower cheek as his breath fanned over your skin leaving your body wanting more. As he removed his fingers from your mouth, he licks from your chip up to the tip of your nose. Dalton pulls away slightly so he can get a better look at your face as a venomous smile pulls at his. 

He takes the hand that was holding your face and drags it down the side of your cheek as he exhales a phrase that would chill your bones. 

“Everything I’m going to do to you…he wishes he could do himself.” 

The anxiety you felt prior was beginning to trickle back in as you realized the tank top you were wearing underneath the cardigan provided you little safety from the one above. Dalton’s hands slid up your torso underneath your tank top, his hands massaging over the soft flesh of your breast. Undoing the front clasp, your tits pancaked out of the fabric only for one to be caught by Dalton’s rough hand and the other encased by his lips.

You tried to keep a coherent thought, to push back against him but you lacked the mental will due to the rapture spidering through your body. As his mouth left your nipple, the cold air sent shivers through your chest and rippled down your back as his lips savagely placed open mouth kisses along your jawline, nipping at your skin with each release. 

Caught up in the feeling you almost blocked out the sound of his belt becoming undone. But as soon as you were aware, the time to react had come to pass. His cock, hard and heavy was pulled out from the layers of fabric and you felt it tap against your inner thigh. You were suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you were and the understanding of what was about to happen next rushed through you. 

“W-wait! I don’t, I can’t I~ah! Fuck!”

Before you had the chance to form a coherent thought, his cock entered your seraphic walls and his teeth bit at the skin on your neck. A mark that would surely leave a stain in the aftermath. Having already been overstimulated by the situation itself, the stretch of his cock was horrifically sinful. You couldn’t help the fluttering of your walls as he rocked his length in and out of you at a harrowing pace. 

As he finally let go of your neck he huffed out in the intersection of your neck and shoulder. His exhales made your skin humid and left you with another layer of unwanted pleasure. Trying to bring yourself back down to your body, your hand released the binding grip it had on the bedsheets and sought refuge in Dalton’s sweatshirt, something proving to be a mistake. 

A low growl erupted from Dalton’s throat and before you could register what was happening, he had pulled himself out of you and manhandled you to get on your hands and knees. 

“What made you think that you could touch me, hmm?” 

Like a viper his hand webbed itself in your hair, gripping it at the base and pulling your body up. Adrenaline pumping, you were searching for a viable response but came up with nothing but babbles. 

“I-I don’t, I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

He controlled the movements of your head, forcing you to crane your neck and stare at him in his amber orbs one last time. Mocking your apology, he cooed at you. 

“Aww, you’re sorry? Why don’t you show me how sorry you are?”

Punctuating his statement by rushing his cock back into your ruined cunt, you cried out at the feeling. He shoved your face back into the bed, his pace now unrelenting and no longer a derivative of pleasure but rather of power. With every thrust you felt the tip of his cock assault your cervix, causing tears to well up in your eyes and dry into the sheets beneath you. It was overwhelming, feeling like all decision was stolen from you.

The only thing that filled the room now were the occasional groans from the figure above you and muffled sobs from yourself. You hated that you could feel the approaching feelings of ecstasy building in your lower stomach. The heat was building and the suffocating squeezes from your gummy walls around his cock were more than enough to alert him to your demise. 

“You gonna cum around me, you filthy slut? Enjoyed every second of this didn’t you?”

The guilt you were warding off finally made its way to the forefront of your emotions but you couldn’t find it within yourself to admit that you did, in fact, enjoy all of this. You settled for denial. Denial would save you from the inevitable self reflection you’d have to face. 

“No, no no I didn’t! I didn’t enjoy it. I didn-!” 

Your body cut you off, your orgasm washing over you reluctantly but comedically in timing. As your body shuddered around him, you heard that same derisive chuckle leave his throat mocking you yet again.

“Keep telling yourself th~aht.”

He pulled himself out of you, spraying his seed across the exposed portion of your back. The warmth felt overt, wicked, and it was something you didn’t want on you. You didn’t have the gall to face the being behind you. Instead, you let your body fall limp against the bed as the being fronting as Dalton stood up and fixed himself back into his clothes. From behind you heard him. 

“Say hi to him for me.”

Not expecting a response from you, he left Dalton’s body. His earthly form collapsing on your dorm floor. You didn’t have the strength to turn and help him up as he came to, too busy wrestling with your emotions as tears pooled out of your eyes. You heard your Dalton groan and stand up reaching to turn on the lamp light on his art desk. As the warm light illuminated the room, he turned around silence and shock devastating him as he took in the sight of you. 

You tried to quell your sobs, but your body kept shaking them out. Dalton slowly walked over to you trying to survey your body without touching you. When his eyes landed on the alabaster stains that painted your lower back a terrifying realization overcame him. 

“Y/n…? Y/n, talk to me.” 

The gentle tone was something you missed dearly despite only being gone for such a short amount of time. It comforted you knowing that the worst was over for at least right now. Dalton kneeled on the floor resting his upper body on the side of the bed. You turned your head slowly, still somewhat expecting to meet those hideous yellow eyes but when you saw the gentle and disconcerted brown pupils you were swamped with relief. Tears still were falling across your face, their frequency diminishing. 

You gave him a weak smile, a small “hey” leaving your lips. Like cracked porcelain, he wouldn’t dare touch you. He couldn’t break you more than he already had. His tone weak and regretful, he scanned over your fragile body trying to understand how this happened. He let his head fall next to yours, burying his head in sheets. 

“What did I do to you?”