#insidious: the red door

[angelsnkisses]

Study Break - Dalton Lambert x fem!reader <3

💟 nsfw - mdni 💟

A/N: there's not nearly enough stuff on here for dalton, so of course, i had to assist! i mean, the movie is still pretty new.. so that's probably why but whatevs :).

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

Quiet, slow music hummed in your ears, flowing through your headphones as you tapped your pen against your lower lip. You stared down at your nearly blank journal page, brows furrowed and mouth turned in a scowl. You couldn't think of anything, not one idea for your paper, and it was bugging the hell out of you. You groaned after a hot minute of practically boring holes into the paper with your gaze, yanking out your headphones and laying your head on the desk.

"The universe is against me, I know it," you huffed, whiny and defeated. Dalton, who had been sketching and watching you work for the better part of two hours, looked up from his own book. He chuckled, but still smiled apologetically, getting up off the bed and walking over to stand beside you. He looked down at your paper, one of his hands rubbing your back with a gentle touch. "No it isn't, you've never done anything to the universe," he argued lightheartedly, crouching down next to the chair and tapping your back gently. You didn't respond, still wallowing in your own little vat of self pity.

"Hey, come on. You're gonna figure it out," he reassured, reading what you had so far before turning to you. He couldn't see your face, but he knew you probably had on that frustrated pout of yours, the one he secretly loved so much. You peeked down at him, sighing when you saw his face. Those eyes always pulled you in, took your mind off whatever it was you were even upset about it the first place. You rotated the chair to face him, leaning down and putting your hands on the sides of his face.

He was so sweet, so supportive despite you being just a little dramatic about your project. It wasn't due for a week, and your partner was doing half of it anyways. Your tense expression relaxed as you brushed his hair out of his face, cracking a small smile. "You're right, you're right. I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?" you asked, earning a little laugh. He shook his head in your hold, resting his hands on your knees and leaning up.

"Not ridiculous, you just worry too much," he teased, gaze flicking between your eyes and lips. You frowned a bit, still messing with his hair as you felt your face heat up. He was right, you did worry quite a bit. About your classes, him, work.. you couldn't help it. You moved your hand to cover his mouth when you saw him start to lean in, pushing his head away with a playful scoff.

"Better watch yourself, Lambert. I still gotta focus," you said, trying to sound annoyed. Really, you just sounded amused.. which you were. He groaned against your palm, his hand darting up to grab your wrist. He kept your hand against his face, turning it a bit and pressing a small kiss to the skin. "I'll help you de-stress," he said, his words a whisper between his kisses. He trailed the kisses up your arm, listening to your hesitant sigh.

"My roommate will be back soon," you reminded him, trying to ignore how good his lips felt. It was hard to say no to him, but your poor roommate had been traumatized enough times. She had already caught you twice, once being on her birthday. She always insisted it was fine and she should've knocked, but you always insisted it was your fault, and she shouldn't have to knock to get into her own dorm. Still, you really needed to start shooting them a warning text..

"I'll be quick. I swear," he vowed, his gaze longing and fervent. You couldn't help but get deja vu everytime you saw him between your legs, always remembering the first time he'd ever settled himself down there. That was over a year ago, when he was far more inexperienced and you had to teach him what you liked, etc. Now, he knows exactly how to get you to cum on his tongue over and over, and it's one of his favorite things to do. He watched you get lost in thought, that familiar look in your eyes telling him you were starting to give in.

"Yeah, that's it," he mumbled, his free hand squeezing your knee. He pushed lightly against it, trying to get you to open up your legs for him with encouraging hands. Your stomach did backflips when you saw how worked up he was getting, heat pooling between your thighs. Biting down on your lower lip and peeking at the small alarm clock on your desk, you hesitated, glancing between him and the paper.

"Just for a little while, then I'll let you work," he promised, thumbs rubbing anxious circles on your skin. You gaged his pleading gaze, warmth spreading over your skin where he touched you. You looked down at his hands, biting back a quiet noise. You always forgot how big they were, how long the fingers stretched.. you didn't stop him when they hooked into the waistband of both your shorts and underwear.

"Lift your hips for me," he murmured, the subtle dominance in his voice making your knees weak. You did as he said, heart pounding as you watched him peel them off your legs with ease. You slowly started to spread your legs apart once the fabric was discarded, feeling even more vulnerable when he inhaled sharply at the sight. Just the thought of him touching you more was enough to get you soaked, arousal glistening for him to see. You watched his eyes light up, legs shifting underneath him so he was on his knees as his hands gripped your thighs. He tugged you closer to the edge of the chair, a seemingly pleased hum emitting from his throat.

"Knew you'd like it," was the last thing he muttered before pushing his face forward, pressing his tongue flat out to lick a slow, greedy strip up your dripping cunt. The suddenness made you gasp, the warmth pulling a mewl from you as one of your hands laced into his hair. His name rolled off your tongue when he pressed a kiss to your clit, his lips soft and welcoming. Dalton peered up at you through dark lashes, one hand releasing your thigh. You squirmed under his stare, about to whine for more when he started gently sucking your clit between his lips. The moan you produced was intoxicating, filling his ears and egging him on.

You were too caught up in the feeling of his mouth to notice his hand moving just below his chin, index finger prodding at your sopping hole and catching you off guard. He was quick to smack one of your thighs upon them tightening around his head, a wordless warning that left your skin stinging. You pushed your legs back open shakily, fingers tightening as you pulled at his hair. The action instantly enticed a heavy moan, vibrating through your swollen clit and making you buck your hips involuntarily. The deep, muffled chuckle he released against you was unreasonably sexy, reminding you how desperate you were already acting for him.

You were about to apologize quietly, when his finger abruptly moved into the comfort of your warm walls, pumping slowly and clearing any considerations of speaking. Instead, you leaned against the back of the chair, breathing shallow and quick. "Dalton," you whimpered, the closeness making your whole body ignite with need. You were sure he could feel you practically throbbing against his lips, even more so when his middle finger joined the index. You almost felt guilty pulling at his pretty hair, the brown strands soft and silky between your fingers. You loosened them, carding through his hair instead in an attempt to taciturnly make up for the rough grip.

His fingers picked up speed when he felt you clench around them subtly, unable to help the proud feeling he was consumed with. He loved that despite his unruly life, nothing could affect his ability to make you feel good. Nothing could stop him from loving and caring for you, and that was good enough for him. He tried not to get all sappy, focusing on your trembling figure instead. He ignored the painfully hard bulge in his jeans, craving your release almost as much as you were. He longed to feel your slick coat his fingers, his movements picking up a bit. When his fingers started to curl, you just about lost it, heels digging into the ground as you tried to stabilize yourself.

"Mmh, don't stop," you begged, knowing damn well it wouldn't be the first time he took away your orgasm at the last minute. He had no ulterior motives tonight, however. He just kept up what he was doing, darkened eyes staying on you nearly the whole time. His cock ached at the sight of your face contorting in pleasure, that familiar little 'o' forming on your face as you cried out. His lips twitched up when you came undone on his face, his eyes rolling back just a bit as your familiar taste invaded his tongue. The majority collected on his fingers as he licked and tortured your overstimulated clit, your orgasm slowly beginning to subside as he helped you ride it out.

He pulled his fingers out, pulling back and inspecting them. He grinned at the sight of the sticky, pale substance, catching your tired eyes before pushing them past his lips. He groaned softly around the digits, sucking them completely clean. It wasn't enough, his greed getting the best of him as he leaned back in. You borderline yelped when he started sloppily lapping up the leftover arousal soaking your cunt, your eyes brimming with tears as his nose rutted against your clit.

"W-wait.." you begged softly, your legs twitching everytime he bumped into the sensitive spot. He pulled away when he was satisfied, shifting himself onto his feet and standing up. He leaned down to put his hands on the arms of your chair, caging you in with a sweet, yet heated gaze. You couldn't help but shudder when he got a bit closer, your body buzzing as you caught your breath. He tilted his head, closing the space between you and pressing his lips to yours. You involuntarily moaned against him, hands grabbing at his shirt and tugging him closer. Your eyes blinked shut when you tasted yourself on him, cheeks burning with the realization.

Dalton was starting to get needy himself, kissing you with affectionate, hungry lips. You made a surprised little noise when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the kind of noise that made him yearn for you like no other. He felt a little guilty, especially since he'd promised you to be quick, but god, he couldn't stop thinking about how good you felt around him, how perfectly he filled you.. it was driving him insane.

"I wanna feel you," he practically moaned against your lips, his voice pleading and breathless. The blunt words made you wet all over again, a borderline inaudible sound leaving you as you forced yourself to shake your head. He broke the kiss, trailing smaller ones to your jaw. One of his hands moved to the side of your neck, holding you still so he could start nipping at the soft skin. Your pulse thrummed against his palm quickly, which he allowed to flatter him just a little.

"C'mon, she won't come home," he murmured, as if he could read your mind and tell exactly what was making you anxious. He wasn't actually sure when she'd be back.. but he didn't mention that part. He was about 70% sure he had enough time, and that was good enough for him. He waited while you pondered it, his lips pressing into the space where your jaw met your neck. You groaned, mentally cursing yourself before lacing your fingers back into his hair. He hummed at his little victory, hands beginning to wander your figure.

You knew you shouldn't, it was unfair to your roommate.. and the neighboring dorms that could probably hear you if they listened hard enough. You just couldn't help yourself, you rarely could around him. Your hands were shaking slightly in his hair when he lifted you off the now wet chair, crossing the small room to get back to your bed. He pushed his sketchbook off the comforter and onto the floor, setting you down on the mattress before standing. You felt exposed, reaching down and trying to shove your shirt over your bare bottom half while he stood over you.

The way he chuckled had your arousal leaking onto the bed beneath you, his hands moving to start undoing his belt. He watched you, taking his sweet time, tilting his head just a bit when you whined beneath him. "Don't be embarrassed, I've seen it all before," he reminded you, as if you had somehow forgotten how he was practically making out with your pussy not 5 minutes earlier. Your face got hot all over again, thighs clenching together at the sound of his voice. You always got so desperate after your first release, craving more of that syrupy sweet pleasure that only he could provide.

The way he was affecting you didn't go unnoticed by him, his teeth flashing in a grin as he tugged the belt from the waistband of his jeans. He began undoing the button and zip with one hand, the other gesturing toward your half naked body. "You're gonna keep that on for me, hm?" he mumbled, his eyes swimming with lust as they raked over every inch of your form. The shirt was his, otherwise it would have been on the floor in seconds. His favorite thing in the world was fucking you while you wore his clothes, and he did it every chance he got (which was a lot, since you were almost always in one of his shirts or jackets).

You nodded shyly in response to his question, not trusting your voice. You bit down on your tongue when he started tugging his jeans down, eyes greedily lingering on the front of his black boxers. He felt his cheeks heat up just a little at your attention, tilting his head down and pretending to mess with the hem so you wouldn't see his reddened cheeks. You watched his hands carefully, rubbing your thighs together when he continued to take his time.

"Please, I need you so bad," you whimpered, catching his attention. You didn't usually say stuff like that, claiming it sounded silly coming from you. The simple sentence sent a throb through his already aching abdomen, his hands pushing down the fabric without any more hesitation. You could have cum just from the sight, abdomen tensing with need. "Yeah? Need me to make you feel good?" he cooed, cocky now that he'd gotten the reaction out of you. He didn't wait for your answer, climbing over you and putting his big hands on your thighs. He tugged you closer, pushing your legs open with his eyes pinned down. He could have wept at the sight of you all wet for him again, making a small mess on your sheets and covering your inner thighs with the shiny, translucent slick.

"You're so pretty," he half-moaned, one of his hands leaving your thighs. The compliment had you reaching up, hands roaming his chest needily. He gave no warning before he dragged his index up your slit, collecting some of the liquid desire on his fingertip and slipping it past his lips. Your whole body warmed at the sight, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You watched him lean down more, positioning himself between your legs and lining his swollen, eager tip up with your dripping hole. His eyes flickered up to yours when you gasped quietly, the hand on your thigh slipping up to grasp your hip soothingly.

"You ready?" he asked, his tip already wet from nuzzling into your folds. You whispered a deprived, desperate 'yes,' so clearly craving him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, trying to somewhat distract you with the gesture while he started to push himself inside your tight, wet heat. You both gasped in unison, yours shakier than his due to the stinging stretch between your legs. He kissed all over your face, mumbling quiet apologies as you winced and huffed with every inch he gave you. No matter how many times you did this, he always had to start slow with you. The initial stretch was always the hardest part, but after that, it was typically smooth sailing.

By the time he had bottomed out, you were already pretty much used to it, lips catching his as soon as you were given the chance. You whimpered when he started pulling back again, the drag of him along your walls stirring up pleasure in your abdomen. You could hear him groan into your mouth, hand slipping under your shirt as he moved. He palmed at your right tit, squeezing the soft mound of flesh gently. His slightly rough hands were warm and comforting, touching you just right as his hips started moving at a steady, slow pace.

The moan you produced was heavenly, louder than before as pleasure trickled across your body. Dalton found himself disappointed that he didn't get to truly appreciate the sounds you were making, breaking the sloppy kiss so he could hear you properly. His pace was gradually increasing, his own quiet moans giving you all sorts of funny feelings in your belly. He leaned up a little more so he could look down at what he was doing, groaning at the sight. You peeked down, too, biting your lower lip when you realized how wet you were getting him. His dick was partially covered in a creamy white, making a wet, almost squelching sound with every thrust. You released an embarrassed whine, the lewd sounds making you feel ten times more exposed.

Dalton didn't share your feelings of embarrassment at all. In fact, he was going fucking nuts about the fact that he could literally hear how soaked he made you. His thrusts started to get harder, the sound of skin on skin mixing in with your whiny moans as he continued watching himself fuck you. The way his big cock disappeared, reappeared, disappeared, reappeared over and over was fucking hypnotizing. The only thing that could tear his gaze away was the sound of you gasping, hands dropping down to grip the sheets as your back arched up a bit.

"Oh, right there," you pleaded, eyes fluttering shut as your head fell back into the pillows. Dalton quickly realized what he was doing to you, a proud little smile on his face as he chuckled breathily. "Mmh, feels good, huh?" he cooed, knowing you couldn't answer as his hips pushed against you to deliver a particularly hard thrust. Your legs started to tremble, a loud, desperate cry escaping your lungs when he started intentionally pushing against that perfect spot over and over. Your toes curled, legs wrapping loosely around his waist as you tried to get him closer, deeper. Something must of been in the air today, because you couldn't remember the last time you were this frantic for him.

You were wrapped around him just right, snug and warm and wet. He felt his tip kiss your cervix, shushing you softly when you whimpered and squirmed under him, not knowing what to do with yourself. His libidinous sounds encouraged you, the noise coaxing you closer and closer to your second release. One of your hands moved from the sheets, trying to pry his from your hip so you could interlock your fingers. He noticed right away, releasing his bruising grip and taking your hand, pushing it against the bed as he fucked you harder.

"Dalton, 'm gonna cum," you managed to warn softly, a choked whine following quickly after. He hummed, an adoring smile pulling at his lips as he gazed at you. He didn't take his eyes off you once, just rubbing an encouraging thumb across the back of the hand he held. "That's it, cum on my dick," he purred, the filthy words catching you off guard. Your legs tightened around his waist when you felt it all wash over you, shaking and crying as he fucked you through it. You heard a raspy 'fuck' over the roaring in your ears, a whimper sneaking it's way into your boyfriend's moans as he felt his own orgasm snap. He pushed himself as deep as he could manage, head falling on your shoulder as he filled you up with warm, thick cum. It was mind numbing, your pussy still twitching and fluttering around him as his thrusts continued. You were overstimulated, but you wanted to let him ride it out.

"Atta girl," he mumbled, his thrusts slowing to a stop as he panted heavily. He pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to your shoulder before he pulled back, blue eyes meeting yours. His heart swelled when you gave him those loving, hooded eyes, unable to stop himself from smiling subtly. His hair stuck to his forehead, face flushed and chest heaving with his deep breaths. You couldn't help but stare, the hand that wasn't in his shakily reaching for his face. You brushed the damp hair from his face as best as you could, tired and lovesick in your peaceful afterglow. He pushed his cheek into your palm, sighing contently through his breaths.

After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss was different than the other ones, gentle and caring instead of sloppy and desperate. Taking his opportunity, he slipped himself out of you, the sudden emptiness eliciting a gentle moan from you. He whined dramatically when you broke the kiss, your teeth flashing as you grinned, amused. You looked over his shoulder at your alarm while he started kissing your neck, craving aftercare just as much as you were. Sadly, it was already 9, and your roommate rarely stayed out very long after that. You mentally cursed your predicament, giving Dalton apologetic eyes. "She's probably on her way now," you mumbled, and he knew exactly what you were talking about. He groaned against your neck, clearly disappointed, but still pulled away. He thought about it for a second, before scoffing when he realized how obvious the solution was.

"Oh wait- duh, I live here too. We can walk over to my dorm," he recalled, making you laugh; a genuine, almost musical sound that had Dalton folding for you all over again. He pressed one more kiss to your forehead before gently pulling your legs off his waist and standing. "What about Chris?" you asked, wincing softly as you sat up. The space between your legs ached, and when you moved, you could feel cum start to leak out of you. It made you blush, remembering just how exposed you were. You watched Dalton pull on his boxers as he shrugged. "She's with a friend tonight," he responded, like it was common knowledge.

"You're telling me I risked my roommate getting an eyeful of us.. you know, when we could have been in your empty, risk-free dorm?" you gasped, mocking betrayal. He laughed at that, throaty and low as he lifted his hands in defeat. He grinned sheepishly, walking over to the desk chair where this whole situation began. "Yeah, maybe," he admitted, earning a playful eye roll from you (you would never admit it, but part of you loved the risk). He picked up your shorts and underwear, walking over and offering them to you.

"Here, we'll get you all cleaned up when we get there. I have some clean clothes you can wear," he promised, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple before turning to hunt down the rest of his clothes..

**

A/N: this is.. something. i never know how to end fics, that's why its always so abrupt 😭. anyways, i finally finished this one! i wanna write another one with a gn!reader :). work and classes have kept me so busy, but i'm gonna try to post a bit more frequently 🫶 hope you enjoyed <3! (not proofread yet)

#ty simpkins #dalton lambert #dalton lambert smut #dalton lambert x reader #insidious #insidious: the red door #insidious the red door #i love him so bad #angelsnkisses #mdni

[tvandfilm]

INSIDIOUS: THE RED DOOR JULY 2023, dir. Patrick Wilson

#filmedit #horroredit #insidious: the red door #chewieblog #dailyhorrorfilms #insidious #userksusha #dailyflicks #userlenny #userrobin #classichorrorblog #insidiousedit #tuserdana #usersavana #gifs #by gabby #horror tw

[cary-elwes]

#insidious #insidious: the red door #specs #tucker #spectral sightings #leigh whannell #angus sampson #2023

[dailyflicks]

Insidious: The Red Door 2023 | dir. Patrick Wilson

#insidiousedit #insidious: the red door #insidious #horrorgifs #horroredit #filmgifs #cinematicsource #filmedit #moviegifs #userbbelcher #* #by alex #2020s #horror #mystery

[andrew3garfield]

INSIDIOUS: THE RED DOOR (2023) dir. Patrick Wilson

the final trailer

#insidious: the red door #insidious 5 #patrick wilson #josh lambert #ty simpkins #dalton lambert #rose byrne #renai lambert #lin shaye #elise rainier #josh bishara #lipstick face demon #james wan #cinemagifs #horrorgifs #horror #actors #movies #useranna3 #🫀 #tw jumpscare #tw horror film #tw flashing

[angel-fics]

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

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

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

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

“So, did you sleep well last night?”

Oh fuck.

Did he know?

He couldn’t have…

*Astral Projector* Yes the fuck he could have.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“You’re wearing workout clothes?” Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*~*~*

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you hadn’t been texting him as much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I could fucking…

Fuck, she looks beautiful…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’d take it out on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: “Wanted an excuse to dress up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you two shut the FUCK UP ALREADY!”

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

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

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

“You’re my girlfriend now, right?”

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

*~*~*

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

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

@explosiongamora

@flaminghotcheetoos

@nessabarrettsqueen

@purplevioletshoes

@12idk1234

@igotmajordaddyissues

@nyx22-blogs

@elizabe-thh

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

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert #dalton lambert smut #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert imagine #insidious films #insidious: the red door #insidious #yandere!dalton

[i-heart-mgg]

Dalton Lambert x reader nsfw 😘

I wrote this as a little joke so don’t come for me, also credits to @darling-i-read-it for inspiration on the story line. I can take this down if you see it and you’re not comfortable with it.🤞🤞The reader is on the pill to btw.

You were heading to your first art class of the semester, palms sweaty and the nervousness building up like a pit in your stomach. You had just moved to a new state so you knew a total of zero people, not being helped by your slight case of social anxiety. At least you had your roommate Chris, although she was quite loud and you hadn't got the chance to know her yet.

Lost in thought you walked into something tall and sturdy, when looking up you realized you had walked into not something but someone. In a panic, you frantically apologized for walking into this guy, even through your disorientated state you were still caught by how handsome he was. He was just your type, tall, dark longish hair, a sort of reserved personality, as well as being a little built.

"Hey, hey, calm down. I'm fine, barely even noticed you bumped into me." He said. Eventually, you settled down from his tranquil, soft voice soothing your worries and you quickly apologized again for making such a fuss. Your cheeks now a slightly rosy tinted colour from the embarrassment of making a small scene. "Oh I see, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I must've made you late to class already, go if you need!" "It's okay seriously, and my class starts in about 10 minutes which is plenty of time considering it's only about a 3-minute walk from here."

10 minutes away, a 3-minute walk... that sounded familiar in a way, you were trying to place it for a while until- "Oh my god, I think I have the same class as you!" He chuckled to himself as you exclaimed that in an over-dramatic way. “I figured as much, I saw your artwork on the ground from when you bumped into me. You're really good, who's the person in the picture?" He questioned you.  "It's my best friend from home, her name is f/n and she's in a band. Hence her playing the guitar." "Well that's pretty cool, I'd love to be able to play an instrument." "I can relate so much! I'm so uncoordinated with my hands, I physically can't do two different things with them at once." You both exchanged laughs and conversation, making your way to your first class. Getting along impressively well.

As the class poured into the classroom, you all began setting up your easels. By this time you'd found out the mystery guy's name, it was Dalton. Dalton decided to set up his easel right next to yours. Which was the start of a very close friendship between the two of you.

You would see each other often, Chris occasionally joining in on your twos' hangout sessions. Some of which would be on the rooftops of your doom house, you learned that Dalton's dorm room was the one below yours so it was easy to see each other all the time. Other hangouts were peaceful afternoons and evenings, that turned into late nights at either of your dorm rooms. Working on assignments, practising drawing exercises, watching the latest tv shows, playing board games, you name it.

Sometimes the drowsiness and delusion of your late night study sessions would incite flirtatious behaviour. Only small things, extremely specific compliments, falling asleep on one another’s shoulders by “accident”, or practising cheesy pick up lines.

But after a while of hanging out at the dorm house or quick stops to the shops, Chris decided that you two needed to try something more out of your comfort zone. A frat party. Now you weren't totally against the idea, I mean yes it was scary to experience new things, especially ones with a bunch of people, drinking, and loud music. However you figured it would do the both of you some good to maybe develop your social circle a tiny bit. After a lot of back-and-forth debating with Dalton to go he finally caved.

Since you'd never been to one of these parties, you guessed that you should dress up just a bit, picking out a short silky dress with spaghetti straps and lace around your cleavage. Basically oversized lingerie. You put your socks on, next your heeled black boots, your favourite matching heart necklace and earrings, then finally finishing off with a leather jacket straight out of the 90s.

After getting ready, you walked over to the spot you guys had agreed to meet at, the entrance of the dorms. The minute you stepped out you saw you had caught the attention of your two friends, especially Dalton. You could see his eyes travelling up and down your frame, slightly stuttering as he attempted to greet you. But paying it no mind seemed the easiest option, thinking it was probably because you'd never got dressed up in front of them before.

The three of you made your way over to the party, you could hear the music blaring from the house as you approached it. It was obviously very crowded, as you entered you had to maneuver your way around the people making out on the porch and doorway, absolutely no shame while straight up humping one another wide out in the open.

Once you had gotten in the house you and Dalton just kind of stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do in this unfamiliar situation. Both your pleading eyes looked over to Chris for guidance. She picked up on the hint suggesting everyone get drinks, to loosen them up a bit.

You slid your way through the crowd of people dancing, slightly knocking some on the way but too wasted to give a shit. The punch bowl was a bright orangey-red colour with various types of fruit in it, and mostly likely a bunch of alcohol. You yourself didn't like alcohol but you couldn't taste any in the punch, only fruit juice. Urging you to take a little more than you would have otherwise.

"Hey you guys, come over here!" Chris yelled over the music pointing in the direction in which the majority of people were dancing in. Dalton glanced at you, letting you choose whether or not you join in on that situation. You looked back up at his perfectly sculpted face, nodding eagerly as you entwined your hand in his. Pulling him over to where Chris was already dancing her heart out. The sudden hand holding making him blush, not that you could see it in the dark room lit by some flashing LEDs.

You started dancing with the three of them, jumping, twirling, shimmying, just being one big joke amongst each other. All was lighted hearted until the time had passed and the music began to slow, your cup now almost licked clean from the questionable liquid.

A strange urge overcame your brain, seeing Dalton so free, so near. You wouldn't admit it to anyone but you did have what you thought was just a minuscule crush on Dalton, and the current circumstances weren't helping it. You began to feel overwhelmingly hot, and sort of...horny.

You built up the courage to get even closer to him, your bodies pressed up against one another. Your hands hesitantly slinking around his shoulders and neck, as the sensual music rang throughout your ears. By this time Chris had disappeared to an unknown location, not that you were worried about that right now.

As you moved on to Dalton his breath slightly hitched and he froze for a couple seconds before his strong hands made their way around your waist. As your forms squeezed together you could feel Daltons' racing heartbeat, and you were sure he could hear yours too. You cocked your head up to meet his blue eyes, now shaken by a mix of uncertainty and pleasure. "Is this ok with you?" You managed to squeak out. "More than ok." He answered firmly.

Just as you were processing the response he gave you Dalton made the next move, pulling you into an emulsifying kiss. By instinct you slid your fingers between his silky locks of hair, slightly gripping it in order to deepen the kiss. Every second that passed wrapped in these carnal desires led to him grasping your body harder and tighter, the rougher he went the more aroused you became.

Before it went any further you sprinted your way up the stairs and down the second-floor corridor until you found an empty, unlocked bathroom. Once you and Dalton had made your way in, he slammed the door behind him, impatient to continue what you two had started. He lifted you off your feet effortlessly. Your legs wrapping quickly around his torso prior to him delicately placing you on the vanity surface.

You took his lips, then tongue, into your mouth once again, while he pressed his growing bulge to the centre of your panties. The sudden combination made you moan into the kiss, longing for more. You rolled your hips up, eliciting a groan and another roll of Daltons' hips in return. You were soon an erotic grinding mess, Dalton's mouth began to leave your own, making its way down your jaw to your supple neck, shoulders, and chest. Leaving various shades of purple scattered along the area.

His right hand left your waist, trailing down to the hem of your revealing dress, hiking it up around your torso. Leaving you with only one layer of protection on, which didn't prove to be very good judging from how soaked they were. "When I saw you walk out in this outfit, I will say these were kind of my intrusive thoughts, but my first inclination was how badly I wanted to fuck you in this adorable little dress. Do you know how many times I've fantasised about the various positions and dreadfully unholy actions we'd do while I was stroking my dick?”

Your mouth lay agape, you had never even for a second thought Dalton had any romantic interest in you like that the months you were friends. But you'd be lying if you weren't thinking the same about him, the countless times your thighs would desperately squeeze together when he would accidentally brush his hands along your thighs. Now looking back on it not so sure those hand placements were by chance.

"N-no I had no idea, but I can't deny I haven't thought the same about y-ah~!" Dalton had pressed his thumb on your clit through your underwear, rubbing small circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Are you ok with this?" He questioned, pulling on your waistband. You gave him a short confirming nod, and in response, he pulled your panties down around your lower thigh region. The cold air which hit your wet pussy making you shiver.

Dalton went back to rubbing your clitoris, eventually building up to sliding the first finger in by tracing around where you wanted it to go the most. "Please.." you said in an exasperated whimper. He slid his middle finger in, slowly going in and out, curving more and more the deeper he went. Soon enough he added a second finger, picking up the pace a little. Your hands were digging into his broad shoulders for some form of stability, steady breathing turning into fast pants and beads of sweat formed on your forehead.

You couldn't take it any longer, craving for more friction you began riding his hand. He happily allowed you to continue until your climax was fast approaching, only mere seconds before you could cum his fingers suddenly came to a halt. You whined in frustration "Why'd you do that?" "I'm sorry I thought you would enjoy this more."

You looked down to his crotch the minute you heard the clinking of his belt coming undone, he was so fucking hard. Painfully hard. Practically begging to break free from his strained jeans. Luckily the pleas of his brain had turned into actions as he undid the button and zipper. His boxers fell with his pants as his cock sprung up, he was big. Average girth but extremely long, leaking a bit of precum.

"Now tell me if it hurts at all or to stop, just so you know the stretching will be painful. But after a while, your discomfort will turn into ecstasy." "Ok, just put it in I can adjust." Dalton slid his member between your folds, creating a form of lube to ease the process. He pushed the tip in, so far so good. Then about another 2 inches, you could start to feel somewhat of a stretching sensation but not a hurting type. Not until another 2 inches of his dick were inside you that you started to feel a horrible burning feeling.

"Agh! Please stop please stop it hurts Dalton I don't think I can go any further." "Ok stay calm, I'll pull out." He said while slowly sliding back from your vagina, stroking your hair and giving you a soft kiss on the lips. For a minute he held you in his arms, caressing your anatomy lovingly.

"I think we can try again, I was just freaked out by the unfamiliar experience." "100% sure?" "Mhm, I'm ready now." He put it in again, this time it was much less pain inducing. Only starting to hurt when he was a little more than an inch from bottoming out. "I'm nearly all the way in, do you want me to get it over with quickly or wait?" "Go in all the way, please." He swiftly followed instructions, having fully bottomed out now.

It still stretched but was manageable. You looked at his face, so concentrated on giving you the best possible first time. He pulled it back out, only to put it right back in again, he then pulled out, and in, and out, and in until he was fucking you in a slow paced rhythm.

He was indeed right, your pain turning to pleasure as he hit inside of you just right. Dalton put his hand between the glass of the mirror and your head, making sure you didn't smack it as his pace increased. You met his thrusts with your body, causing you two to let out the most blasphemous sounds.

The overwhelming satisfaction making your hands find their way up his toned back, involuntarily digging your nails into it, and hooking your feet over one another to allow him to hit your g spot. "You're so good, so, so, tight...around me." Dalton groaned in your ear. Both your moans and the slapping of your skin were the only noise that filled that bathroom.

You looked down to where you two were connected, his penis stretching your walls as far as they could go while he was pumping it inside. The view turned you on more than you thought was possible, causing you to elongate your neck backwards. Clenching furiously hard around him. You began to feel his cock twitch inside you, indicating he was getting close after about the last 10 minutes of heaven you were both exposed to.

Your moans turned into screams of delight as you found yourself on the brink of an orgasm. The sheer volume was well past what people could simply ignore if they were anywhere near where you were getting your brains fucked out. "Ah~ ah~ ah~ ahhh~ D-dalton, I'm gonna cum~."  "Fuck, ugh- me too." He pounded into you so quickly your mind could barely handle it, slamming his hips into your own as you felt your climaxes crashing down on you with the force of a tsunami. He helped you ride out your orgasm, thick's strands of his semen seeping from your hole, his dick lathered in your cum.

When you were both finished, he stayed inside you, heavily panting with exhaustion. His arms pressed on either side of you to keep him from collapsing, heads rested against each other. "My god... that was incredible Dalton. You're so damn hot-" You were cut off by the creaking of the door opening, and who was it but the one and only Chris.

"DALTON!? Y/N?! ARE YOU GUYS, OK I HEARD SOME LOUD NOISES COMING FROM IN H- here?" She had finally figured out what the commotion was all about as she quickly averted her eyes from where you two were still conjoined.

Consumed by utter embarrassment you hid your face further into Daltons' neck, your faces painted a vibrant red colour. At the speed of light, he put his member back in his pants, covering your genitals by pulling down your dress. Chris who was left gobsmacked eventually managed to mutter "I'm sorry for walking in on this but I knew something was going on between the two of you." Then shut the door behind her as she tried to wrap her head around what she just saw.

Once she was gone you couldn't help but laugh at the mortifying situation, Dalton soon joining in on your antics. "Apart from...that, that was one of the best moments of my life, genuinely." "Have you ever done this with anyone else?" You questioned him. "No, not at all. In fact, I didn't have my first kiss until today." Your jaw dropped. “That's crazy. No way you were that amazing with zero experience." "I could say the same for you." He replied as he brought you into an intimate kiss, endearing emotion radiating from it.

You guys left the frat party, to be honest looking quite rugged. It was kind of obvious what you two had just done by the state of your knotted hair, crumpled-up clothing, and the slight limp your strides were accompanied with. You made your way back to your dorm house, guessing Chris had gone home after witnessing that. Dalton's hand was entwined with yours the whole walk back.

You decided to stay at his that night, thinking it was too soon to face Chris and giving her a break before that image was imprinted in her memory forever. You were both very tired, stripping down to wear Daltons’ oversized hoodie and track pants. You lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable under the plush covers.

He scooted in next to you, putting his chest on your back as he wrapped one arm around your physique. His presence and warmth made you fall asleep within a minute or two. Your own body warmth lulling him to sleep like a baby.

#Dalton #DaltonLambert #insidious #smut #insidious: the red door #Daltoninsidious

[t4toro]

u heard it here folks from jason blum himself, leigh is a wife

#leigh whannell #jason blum #insidious #insidious: the red door #blumhouse #extra extra! read all about it! ​leigh is malewife confirmed!!! #lamb of blog

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Good Cooties

Nobody:

Nesha: Takes a very traumatic horror story and instead makes it fluff.

They generally checked in right before bed and then again, first thing in the morning. Chris had never been so communicative with somebody before, but after everything that knowing Dalton had put her through, she didn't mind going a little above and beyond with check-ins.

Whenever one wasn't feeling 100% at bedtime, they had a sleepover, just in case something would go down. Time passed, and nothing did. Well... nothing too unusual, at any rate. He had nightmares sometimes and they'd wake up and sort through it. Sometimes he simply couldn't sleep, so he'd just watch her a while, glad that she wasn't losing any rest on his behalf, but annoyed that the bed was so small that they both couldn't really fit on it without being cuddled up.

Upon mentioning it, she reminded him that when he was trapped in The Further, "Your little booty body was nestled right here, between these yummy thighs." He couldn't argue with it, and the description of her thighs made him want to drop the conversation completely, so he'd said, "Well, you said you have good cooties," laughing awkwardly, and snuggling up behind her, hoping his body wouldn't betray him for the closeness of a soft, warm body and the unavoidable friction of natural sleep movements. Fortunately, that never went down. Even more fortunately, neither did any wild trips to The Further.

Things that did go down: her roommate absolutely thought that he was an obsessive boyfriend and his new roommate was confused that she slept over but they never had the need to tie something on the doorway for him to give them some time. "So... she just sleeps here sometimes?" He'd asked, "Or are you just always finished by the time I get in?"

"We're just friends!" Dalton had said, uneasy and blushing.

Foster, when they got alone, asked, "But, seriously. You're definitely smashing that, right?" It irked him. Him speaking about her like that. "I mean.. I know that you aren't that much of a lover, but I figure it's different with you two, because of, you know... the stuff.."

It was... true, officially. But, he knew how this looked. Even his mom would ask about her in the same way that she'd asked about people he'd dated previously. Was Chris coming home with him during the holidays? "She has her own family," he'd casually mentioned, then had to pretend not to notice as his family gave each other knowing looks because he spent most of the holiday texting, calling, or video chatting with "Chris" They said her name in a certain way too. A singing way, obviously taunting him. Well... his siblings did. (Foster had roped Kali into this mess, too). His mother instructed them to leave him alone, though he could tell it amused her, from her face, and he knew she liked Chris. She always asked about her.

That was why they probably would never happen. He had nightmares sometimes, panicking about being possessed again, about hurting her. Sure, he would wake up to find her there, safe and sound and if awakened by his nightmares, quick to comfort him, but.. that entire thing was now forever a part of their story. And what type of love story could come out of something like that?

His parents had loved each other for years, and this entire ordeal had separated the two of them. Foster broke into his thoughts with, "I think that I'd want somebody who already understands what you've gone through. I imagine by the time I wanna meet people, it's gonna be a whole damn thing trying to make it normal, when the topic inevitably comes up. You've got a cute girl who still bothers with you after literally seeing you at your worst. Possessed by an entity. How could it get better for you?"

"We're just friends!"

"She let you blow on her hooter the first night!" Foster teased. Dalton wasn't a big fan of Chris and his brother exchanging words, but they had each other's information, so now he always had at least this one story for ammunition to make Dalton a little bit uncomfortable, and Chris was the type to overshare casually. Chris and Foster got along well. Dalton could only imagine their powers combined if she did come around the whole family...

Which, eventually, she did. By then, they were dormed together, again. She had gone to see housing about it. Her best friend, suffering from a sleep issue, their roommates, often inconvienced when he woke up, the fact that this very office had already roomed her with him before, so what was the big deal? Chris either could talk you into hating her guts and wanting her gone, or doing whatever it is she was saying, and that day, with that member of staff, she got herself back into the room with him.

Now, they could go to sleep in their own beds, and if something happened, there the other was, just on the other side of a small room. They didn't even have to cramp themselves into his little bed as much, and whenever they did, she didn't have to get up earlier to get ready from a different room, or to go back to her own. It was cozy, and comfortable, and they had a routine.

They had gotten numerous sleeping masks, so that Chris could find something to assist her through the nightlights. Whenever she was in Dalton's bed, she didn't really notice, because her face was usually burrowed in the bed or his body, for lack of room. By the time it was time for her to go home with him, she knew which mask she needed for which type of night, whether or not she should have earphones, and how many pillows she could bring before the bed couldn't fit the pillows and two people their sizes.

She had been in his corner since the moment he confided in her, and even when she didn't want to engage, she found herself unable to just leave him alone, and now she feared that she was far more comfortable with this man than she ever planned on being with anyone. But. She was never one to reject a good thing, and it seemed like maybe Dalton Lambert was a good thing. It certainly always felt good to fall asleep in his arms and wake up next to him. Chris was a fan of feeling good.

His family was nice. She was excited to finally shoot the shit with Foster, in the flesh, and that did not disappoint. Dalton had been hoping that she would help dispel the rumors the Lamberts ran wild with, but despite pursuing math, Chris had a deep passion for chaos, as far as Dalton was concerned. "So, he never told you that we made out at a frat party?" She had asked a VERY intrigued and impressed Foster.

"He never told me that he WENT to a frat party!" He complained.

"Yeah, I sorta made him. That's a gift I have, getting Dalton to do stuff that he is not fond of doing.." Dalton pressed his lips together and continued working on a drawing.

Whenever Foster heard about the frat boy who called her ugly, he looked livid but was soon appeased by the thought of him being promptly kicked in the dick afterward. "I used to say that I wouldn't wish that on anybody, but it sounds like this is the guy that makes me change my beliefs.." They chatted for a little while longer before Foster was going to leave to go hang out with friends. "I'm super glad that Dalton has you," he said on his way out. She simply offered a salute, then looked at Dalton's jaw tense as he pretended not to hear that.

"You okay?" She asked. He shrugged. "You know... whenever I was with Grandma Perkee over the last holiday, she told me that you are very pretty and that she'd love to meet you. I said, "Yeah. He is very pretty, huh? He's kind too. A little introverted, but such a likable person. I don't think he likes me like that, though, Grandma. You might want to be less excited about meeting him." He paused and looked at her. "Well, next she told me, "If somebody is in you life, and they're nice to you and you like them and you're both having a good time together, that's gonna excite me, no matter what you call each other..." They stared at each other a moment, before she concluded, "So, we don't really need to discourage or encourage your family from thinking I'm your girlfriend or into thinking it. They see how we are together, and they know you're in good hands. Whether we're friends or more, they're gonna feel the way that they feel about me because they love you and you like me."

He gave her a little smile. That was a good way to put it, and made it less stressful for him whenever he overheard Kali ask, "Is Dalton your boyfriend?"

Without missing a beat, Chris answered, "Well, Dalton identifies as a boy, and he's definitely my friend, so what would you do if I said, "Yes?"

Kali gasped and with a wide smile asked, teasingly, "Do you loooooooove himmm?"

Chris smiled right back and asked in a whisper, "What would you do if I said "yes" again?"

Kali giggled and covered her mouth, either in excitement or surprise. Dalton never said stuff like that. He didn't smile about it. He always got irritated and denied it all. Kali smiled, and offered, "I'd say, I think that Dalton loves you too."

Chris's smile changed, ever so slightly. Dalton noted it as he finally stepped into view. She leaned towards Kali and told her, "One thing about me? Everybody loves Chris." Kali nodded in agreement, then finally noticed Dalton.

"Oh! It's your boyyyyyfriiiiiend," she sang. He just smiled, shaking his head.

At bedtime, Chris offered, "Pretty cool that your mom doesn't mind our sleeping situation. I'd say it's because she knows we aren't doing it, but she kinda seems like she'd be cool with it, even if we were."

"She is a part of the 'everybody' that loves Chris," he said, casually, preparing the nightlight. Chris paused, with a grin, then silently resumed putting on her bonnet.

By the time that they climbed into his bed, she pushed close and started wrapping her arms around him. He froze and gave her a confused look. "What? This is how we sleep."

"Yeah, in the dorm on the tiny bed. This one has room for us to stretch out more."

"Yeah, near the edge of the bed, where the monsters are. Your sister tormented me with Barbie play today. I wanna be up on you tonight." His body relaxed a little bit. "Besides, I sleep better when we're cuddled up." It tensed again. "My God, Dalton... are we not allowed to say stuff like that to each other?"

"No. Yeah... I just. Yes..." His Adam's apple was leaping in his throat and she watched it bob as he nervously searched for his next words, "I, uh... sleep better with you right here, too." She nodded once, settled her body around his and stared a little bit longer. Dalton's face came in closer, but then he stopped and just looked into her eyes. Her normal playfulness was never present when she was sleepy, but whatever else was there in her eyes, he wasn't exactly used to.

Chris offered a smile and teased, "What? Were you about to kiss me?"

Quickly, he said, "I would never do that without asking first." She closed her eyes, smiling, and nodding. "Cou.." Her eyes opened and he was staring at her lips, "Could I? Kiss you?" Chris smiled and moved closer for him to do so. It wasn't caught off guard like the first time, and it wasn't long or steamy or deep. It was tender, and quick, but lingering.. "Good cooties," he mumbled against her lips, with a smile.

"Very," she said, smiling against his, as well.

#Insidious Fanfiction #Nesha Fanfiction #fanfiction #insidious the red door #insidious: the red door #movie fanfiction #Chris Winslow #Chris x Dalton #Chris x Dalton Fic #fluff #Dalton Lambert #Insidious

[angelsnkisses]

OKAY. IM GONNA DO IT. IM GONNA WRITE ABOUT HIM. I GIVE IN.

#dalton lambert #ty simpkins #insidious #insidious: the red door #angelsnkisses

[thatgirlwithasquid]

and so it begins

#insidious #insidious: the red door #dalton lambert #fanart #im deffo gonna be drawing so much of him

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Insidious: The Red Door 2023

#Insidious: The Red Door #Ty Simpkins #Patrick Wilson #Rose Byrne #Sinclair Daniel #Hiam Abbass #Andrew Astor #Juliana Davies #Steve Coulter #Peter Dager #Justin Sturgis #Joseph Bishara #David Call #Stephen Gray #Robin S. Walker #Leigh Whannell #Angus Sampson #Lin Shaye #Bridget Kim #Logan Wilson #Kasjan Wilson #Mary Looram #Adrian Acosta #AJ Dyer #Kalin Wilson #E. Roger Mitchell #Dagmara Dominczyk #Elaine Apruzzese #Victorya Danylko-Petrovskaya #Joshua Haire

[hirunoka]

Just finished watching Insidious: The Red Door and oh my did it make me feel emotional :')

He made the wall, you guys. He made the wall. ❤

#insidious: the red door #insidious: the red door spoilers #patrick wilson #dalton lambert #josh lambert #eisy speaks #insidious spoilers

[andrew3garfield]

insidious: the red door (2023) dir. patrick wilson

it ends where it all began🚪

#insidious: the red door #insidious 5 #patrick wilson #ty simpkins #rose byrne #horroredit #horrorgifs #cinemagifs #cinemaedit #actors #useranna3 #cw horror #🫀

[angel-fics]

In The Room Where You Sleep

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But just this once…

No! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*~*~*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

D: “What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

D: “Chilling in my room now, you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: “Oml, finally!”

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

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

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

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

You responded quickly and without a photo.

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

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

You: “Come over?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*~*~*

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

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

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

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

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

“So, did you sleep well last night?”

********

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

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

#Spotify #romance #dalton lambert #insidious films #insidious: the red door #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert smut #smut #stalking #pervert!dalton

[autumnblooms]

This will be on repeat for the foreseeable future

#putting this here in case anyone hasn’t heard it yet #because oh my god is it beautiful #Patrick Wilson has such a good voice #though I would love to hear Tobias’s take on it too #the band ghost #insidious: the red door #patrick wilson #Spotify