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hidden-misthios · 1 year

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Something in the Orange (part 2)

Pairing: Lambert x female!sorceress!reader

Word count: 3 601

Summary: When Geralt of Rivia disappears, Jaskier has no choice but to ask his best friend for help. Although struggling with her own issues, Y/N agrees and they join Vesemir and the others in Kaer Morhen. The search might be difficult but not as difficult as the certain redheaded witcher who keeps challenging her.

A/n: I’m sorry for a long wait!

Part 1 is here.

Y/N sighs. Of course it had to be him.

“Where is he?” she asks Vesemir, not really trying to hide her reluctance.

“Probably in his room. I’ll take you there.” he offered. Y/N nods and follows Vesemir out of the library. They walked through the castle in silence while Y/N was trying to think of what to say to Lambert once she was there.

When they finally arrived, Vesemir knocked on old doors.

“What?” they heard him grumbling from the other side and then the doors opened. He slightly raised his eyebrows when he noticed Y/N.

“We need your help.” Vesemir said.

“’Course you do.” he said, suddenly sounding tired.

“Y/N is an oneiromancer.” Vesemir started but Lambert immediately realized where this conversation is going.

“No. I’m not letting her bewitch me!” he shook his head.

“I’m not going to ‘bewitch’ you.” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She crosses arms on chests while stepping closer to him. Lambert instantly steps backwards.

“We are just going to have a quick nice chat about your last encounter with Geralt.”

“And that’s supposed to help us get him back? How?” he frowns, crossing his arms as well.

“So many questions.” Y/N sighs and passes by him, entering his room without his approval. Lambert was about to protest but Y/N was getting inpatient.

“I’m going to need a chair, right here” she points next to Lambert’s bed. “You’re going to lay down and drink this.” Y/N opens her leather bag and pulls out a small bottle of sleep potion.

“You can’t be serious. I’m not drinking that.” Lambert complains.

“Since you two have things figured out, I’m sure you don’t need me. I’ll see you both in the morning.” Vesemir quickly adds and before anyone could say anything, he leaves down the hall. Y/N looks at Lambert again, and throws a small bottle at him. He caches it but doesn’t even look at the bottle.

“I said I’m not drinking that. Are you deaf?”

“Listen, witcher.” Y/N is annoyed at this point but she keeps her voice steady and calm. “I’m trying to help you find YOUR friend. Are you really going to make this harder than it already is?” she crosses arms.

“It’s harder because you got involved, not because of me!” he raises his voice slightly. Y/N steps closer, getting into his personal space.

“If this doesn’t work, I’m out. Okay? You’re on your own.” Y/N tried to sound patient, but Lambert could still sense the annoyance in her voice. All of a sudden, he grins.

“Deal. If it doesn’t work right away, you and that ridiculous trumpeter are out. By the first rays of the sunlight.”

Y/N’s jaw slightly clenches. “Deal.” she agrees, not wanting to break the eye contact first. Lambert looks at her for couple of seconds longer and then suddenly turns around, grabs the chair next to him and effortlessly moves it next to his bed.

He opens the bottle that Y/N gave him and looks at its content. Dark green liquid didn’t exactly smell like honey and flowers but Y/N knew how powerful the potion was.

“Go on. Drink all of it.” Y/N says as she sat down. Lambert sits on the edge of his bed. He hesitates for a few moments before finally drinking the potion.

“Lovely.” he manages to speak before coughing a couple of times. Y/N grabs an empty bottle from his hand and leans back into her chair.

“Okay, now, lay down. I’ll explain how this works.”

Lambert doesn’t say anything but lays down and crosses arms on his chests.

“Relax. Firstly, we need to discuss the details of your bond with Geralt.”

“We are friends, brothers. There’s nothing to discuss there.” Lambert says shrugging his shoulders but Y/N could swear she heard a bit of discomfort in his voice. He wasn’t comfortable with sharing his feelings with her.

“Lambert, my ability works only if my clients are honest with me. Do not lie. Don’t keep the details from me. I need to know how strong is your bond. Try to flesh out feelings, emotions…Truth is essential in this.”

Y/N looks at him. At least he looks like he’s listening to her.

“So, what are you going to do once you see that dream of yours?”

“I won’t see anything. You will.”

“I don’t understand-”

“You will. Now, please, I need the strongest, most complete memory you have of Geralt.”

Lambert hesitates. This wasn’t what he expected when he agreed to do this. After a couple of seconds, he decides to share the memory of their first shared hunt - the one where they killed Chort, who came out of the dark forest while they were still tracking him. The Chort was a beast; large male who was protecting his territory and clearly didn’t want them near, but Geralt and Lambert already got paid by the nearby villagers to get rid of the creature.

“Did he save your life?” Y/N asks. Lambert nods, looking at the dark ceiling. He could still remember the moment he thought he was dying. His stomach twisted just like it did that day.

“What else should I know?”

It took a while for Y/N to gather information mostly because Lambert didn’t know how to express his feelings but Y/N didn’t rush him.

He’s a witcher after all, she’d remind herself.

By what she heard, they had a complicated relationship and often disagreed but they did respect each other and had a strong bond.

“Alright now, relax, close your eyes. And try to fall asleep. Empty your mind.” she said, and with one quick flick of hand she increased the flames in the small fireplace. The room got warmer almost immediately.

Lambert’s face relaxed after a couple of minutes. Y/N stayed quiet. This was the most vital part. He was supposed to feel like he fell asleep but keeping him in the state between deep sleep and consciousness was Y/N’s job. Sometimes it took a while, so remaining attentive was essential.

She focused, took a slow, steady breath and looked at Lambert. His brows furrowed and his jaw slightly clenched. Then suddenly she felt a soft ‘click’ inside her mind.

Y/N did it! The dream was there. Now, she had to wait. And hope the main dream doesn’t mix with the rest. Sometimes, she couldn’t do anything about it. The sleeper’s mind just went too far off. But, for some reason, she knew that won’t happen now.

After what seemed like forever, Lambert slowly opened his eyes. Although he just woken up, he looked tired. Y/N gave him a minute to sit up and gather his thoughts.

“So?”

“It worked.”

Lambert didn’t waste time explaining. He got up, grabbed his swords and rest of the equipment, and left the room. Y/N followed.

“What did you see?”

“Vesemir will know what to do. Come on.” he hurried her, taking sharp left turn on the main corridor.

“It’s the middle of night!” Y/N reminded him.

“I’m certain he won’t mind.” Lambert said and stopped himself in front of the last door in dim corridor. He grabbed the knob and, without knocking first, pushed the doors and let himself in.

Vesemir, who was sitting next to the window, on an old wooden chair, immediately stood up.

“I know where he is.” Lambert said.

Vesemir’s lips slightly parted. He didn’t even attempt to hide his surprise.

“Kaer Seren.” Lambert said calmly but Y/N immediately heard there was something else behind those words. Vesemir started pacing around the room, mummering occasional swear words for himself.

“You know that place?” Y/N asked, realizing that the answer was obvious but she wanted to be included.

Lambert looks at Vesemir for the explanation. The older witcher doesn’t say anything but approaches the small wooden box that laid on his nightstand and opens it. He reaches inside and Y/N immediately realises he’s holding the letters they got from Geralt’s abductors.

“You see, Y/N, the person who did this, chose that place for a reason.” he says, handling the letter to Y/N. She approaches and slowly takes them from his unsteady hands.

“Kear Seren, or Caer y Seren, if you prefer Elder, used to belong to witcher school of the Griffin. Through decades, the Griffins gathered a massive collection of books about magic in their library. Council of Mages did not like this - mostly because the Griffins refused to share their knowledge. So, naturally, when they got their chance, mages destroyed the castle and its residents. The school never recovered. They are, of course, a few of its members left, but they don’t have a home to return to once the winter hits.”

“That’s…awfully depressing, actually.” Y/N admits, glancing at the letters in her hands.

“But that…That is supposed to be a lesson for us.” Vesemir says with a hint of warning in his voice.” For Geralt.”

Y/N’s throat tightens. “Are you suggesting that the Mages did this to-”

“I am not suggesting anything just yet.” he interrupts her.

Vesemir knew how this whole situation looked like.

Lambert turns to Y/N. “If this was your kind-”

“My kind is not me. I’m helping you and your friend. Do not forget that, witcher!” Y/N warns him, slightly raising her voice. Lambert’s jaw tightens and he slowly starts to walk towards Y/N. “That won’t make much difference to me if it turns out they hold him captive.”

Y/N felt the rage ignite inside her. She starts marching in Lambert’s direction, lifting her arm up to summon the spell. “You arrogant fuck, how dare- “

“Alright, that’s enough!” Vesemir stands between them, raising hands to stop them both from coming any closer. “Let’s talk about this in the morning. Everyone is tired and there’s nothing we can do in the middle of the night.” he says calmly. Neither Lambert or Y/N say anything. They both still stare at each other over Vesemir’s shoulder.

“Come, Y/N. I’ll show you your room.” Vesemir adds. Y/N hesitates for a moment, but decides to join him in peace and quiet. They leave the room without another word, leaving Lambert behind. Y/N notices just now that she was tightly griping the letters in her hand.

They walk for a while down the dark corridor, Y/N’s realizing her heart was still beating quickly from the rage she felt back there.

When they finally reached the guest room, exhaustion and weariness suddenly overcome her. It seemed like her conversation with Jaskier from this morning was weeks ago.

“I’m sorry for what Lambert said back there. We are all quite tense since we received those letters.” Vesemir says, discomfort written all over his face.

“No offense, Vesemir, but I really don’t want to talk about him right now. I really need some rest.” Y/N says honestly. Vesemir nods.

“Of course. Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.”

Find me.

*****

Y/N sits up in her bed, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. For a few seconds, she’s not sure where she is. At first, she thought it was the castle from her dreams.

Y/N wipes away the sweat from her forehead and takes a long breath to steady herself.

That dream kept repeating itself all over again for a while now but this time it felt more tense, like she was running out of time. But why?

As soon as she looked around the dark cold room, she realized this is still Kaer Morhen.

Y/N takes another glance around the room and then slowly gets up to dress herself. It was barely morning – the sun was shyly peaking behind the snowy mountains. She wraps her winter cloak around her tired body – is seemed that this castle was cold no matter the season.

Suddenly she hears a light knock on the doors.

Her dream is going to have to wait again.

Y/N opens the door. It was Jaskier.

“You’re awake, good. If you’re already packed, we can go right away. Vesemir and the others are almost ready to go.” he says, entering the room and walking around. Y/N raises eyebrows.

“Go where?”

“To Kaer Seren, of course!” he says tensely rubbing palms together. “To find Geralt.”

“Jaskier.” Y/N starts, but stops because she wasn’t sure what to say to her friend. He raises eyebrows waiting for her response.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” she says, remembering her fight with Lambert from the last night.

“What? To save him?” Jaskier asks, crossing arms on his chests.

“I’m not saying that!” Y/N answers immediately. “But it might be better if they all go without me.” she speaks softly, feeling the anxiety in her voice. Her friend frowns but doesn’t say anything right away.

“They? You know I’m going as well, right? I know he isn’t your friend. Not even someone you know well. But I do. He’s one of my closest friends, Y/N. I can’t just sit here and wait for someone else to save him. I just can’t. So please” he approaches her slowly. “Do this for me. I’ll own you. I’ll even pay you.” he adds.

Y/N shakes her head. She felt horrible now.

“Jaskier, this has nothing to do you with the money. Or favours.”

“Then what else do you want me to offer you?” Jaskier asks, his voice almost cracking from his pleads.

Y/N takes a long breath and looks away.

“What did Vesemir tell you exactly?” she asks after a few seconds.

“That Geralt is held at Kaer Seren and that we need to go.” Jaskier answers, slowly losing his patience with Y/N.

“Jaskier. His captors might be someone who relies on Chaos.” she finally says.” Someone just like me.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to speak but stops himself. Y/N could almost see his thought process all over his face.

“Y/N, Vesemir wouldn’t-”

“But Lambert would.”

“You’re helping us. You’re on our side!” Jaskier exclaims.

Suddenly, the door of her room opens fully and they both turn around. Redheaded witcher crosses his arms and leans shoulder against the doorframe.

“But when the time comes, would you kill your own brothers and sisters for one pitiful witcher?”

Neither Jaskier nor Y/N say anything.

“That’s what I thought. And that’s why she’s not coming with us.” Lambert says, his eyes pierced on Y/N. She stares back, trying to hide her discomfort.

“Eavesdropper. And in matter of fact, I am.” she responds. Jaskier looks at her, not trying to hide his surprise.

“You are?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, I am.” she says, still looking at Lambert. He scowls, slightly shaking his head. Y/N doesn’t say anything. She didn’t know why she agreed to this.

She was aware this was dangerous for her. Lambert was right. Would she be able to kill a sorceress or a mage that was standing on their way?

But now it was too late. She agreed to come. She let him provoke her again. And this time, it was more serious.

“Alright. But let’s clear up some things, witch.” Lambert slowly walks towards her, until he’s just a couple of centimetres away from her face.

“If I, just a for second, doubt your intentions” he glances over her entire face. Y/N doesn’t move.

He’s standing too close.

“You’re done.” he says quietly. Y/N clenches her jaw but doesn’t lower her eyes.

“Get out of my sight, witcher.” she barely uttered the words. She wasn’t even sure if she spoke them louder than a whisper.

“Gladly.” he instantly responds and pulls back, leaving the room without another glance at her. And just like that, he was gone.

Y/N finally takes a breath. She wasn’t even aware she was holding it in until he was gone.

“Woah.” Jaskier says quietly, glancing towards the door as if he was expecting Lambert to come back.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“He really-”

“Hates me for no reason?” Y/N interrupts him. Jaskier slightly tilts his head, still looking towards the door as if he’s waiting for Lambert to come back.

“No, I don’t think that’s hate.”

Y/N raises eyebrows at her friend. “Is this witcher’s way of showing fondness? If so, I’m not so sure I want to save your friend anymore.” Y/N says.

Jaskier grins. “Geralt is not that bad.” he says but his grin slowly fades away.

“Y/N, are you really going to help us find him?”

Y/N slowly nods. “I will.”

“What changed your mind?” he asks cautiously. Y/N shrugs her shoulder.

“I…I’m not really sure. But I’ll do my best to help you and your friend.” she admits. Jaskier looks at her for couple of seconds and then cleans his throat.

“Alright then, that’s good enough for me. We should be on our way then!” he says, sounding more enthusiastically this time. Y/N agrees, and turns around to look for her bag. There was no reason to wait, they should be on their way as soon as possible.

“Vesemir and the others are already in the main hall. We should join them.” Jaskier says, heading towards the doors.

Y/N grabs the bag from the wooden chair and heads towards her friend. Just as she was about leave the room, she notices those letters that Vesemir gave her sitting on table next to the door.

Y/N grabs them, not really sure why would she need them.

When they finally joined Vesemir and the other witchers in the main hall, the sun had just fully risen and the day was about to begin.

“Y/N we need your assistance again.” Vesemir says after they all formed a circle in the middle of hall. Y/N counted – there was 6 of them. Vesemir, Lambert and Coen were standing with bags over their shoulders while Ciri, the only female witcher Y/N ever met, was holding only her silver sword, nervously switching weight from one leg to another. Jaskier gave Ciri a warm, comforting look but the girl looked at Y/N. Y/N tried to smile but it felt forced. There was nothing comforting or cheerful in conversation they were about to have.

“How can I help?” Y/N asks, turning to Vesemir.

“We need a portal. To Kaer Seren.”

Lambert and Coen groaned. Ciri gave them a warning look.

“Babies.” she mutters, crossing her arms.

Y/N nervously swallows. She wasn’t particularly good at making portals. Being oneiromancer didn’t require creating them anyway. Especially not so far away from her current position.

Or for so many people at once.

“I’m…I’m not sure if that’s good idea.” she honestly tells Vesemir.

“Why not?” Jaskier asks.

“Firstly, I’m oneiromancer – we don’t use portals as our primary form of transportation. Secondly, traveling that far with so much people cannot be done without huge risk.”

“What are the risks?” Jaskier asks carefully.

“Are you joking, bard?” Lambert interjected. “I’m not risking shit.”

“Cowards!” Ciri is slowly losing her patience. She turns to Vesemir. “Let me do it, please!”

“Child, we talked about this.” he speaks softly with the girl, disregarding her infuriation. “We need intractable portals. Yours could be traced from other side of Continent.”

“I don’t think that’s possible for anyone else either. Portals of those proportions are just too noticeable.” Y/N answers.

“I say we ride. That’s the safest option.” Lambert suggests.

“Ride to Kaer Seren is almost week long! They will kill him before we even pass Caingorn!” Ciri groans.

“They won’t kill him.” Vesemir says calmly. Ciri tilts her head and raises her eyebrows.

“How can you be so sure about that?”

Everyone is looking at Vesemir now.

“Because he’s being held as a warning. Those letters…they wouldn’t send it unless they want something from us. Something in exchange for Geralt.”

“Or someone.” Y/N adds. Lambert looks at her.

“What do you mean?” Vesemir asks before Lambert had a chance to speak.

Y/N takes a long breath, stopping herself before saying something that could trigger a new argument.

She carefully formed her next words looking at Ciri.

“If they want someone - “

“She thinks we are holding someone in our cells that they might want back.” Lambert says, crossing arms on his chests. He didn’t sound intimidating this time.

This time, he sounded like he was…mocking her. Y/N’s lips parted but she didn’t know what to say.

Ciri and Coen raise eyebrows at Y/N.

“That’s not what I meant!” Y/N says, realizing how terrible that sounded.

“No? Enlighten us then.” he shrugs. Everyone is looking at her. Even Jaskier, who has never been this quiet since Y/N met him.

“I was thinking… they might want someone else, but couldn’t get to them. Someone like Ciri.” Y/N tells him, but looks over to Ciri. Whitehaired woman looked enraged.

“I don’t care! Just because you think they might want me, won’t stop me from saving Geralt. End of discussion.”

“Cirilla.” Vesemir warns her and the girl’s expression soften a bit. “Y/N might be right.”

“Are you seriously agreeing with her!?” Ciri exclaims, stepping forward.

“I do.” Vesemir responds calmly, but lifts his palm when Ciri was about to protest again. “But I still think you should come with us.” he adds. Ciri stays quiet for a second and then nods. She glances at Y/N with some sharpness in her expression but doesn’t say anything.

“So here is what I suggest we do.” Vesemir says when he realizes Ciri calmed down. “Y/N. You’re going to make a portal. But here’s the catch – you’re not taking us to Kaer Seren.” he adds.

“No?” Y/N asks, slightly nervous when portals are brought up again. One look at Lambert and Coen and Y/N figures they might be as well.

“You are going to take us halfway. To Hengfors.”

#something in the orange #the witcher #the witcher fic #lambert the witcher #lambert #lambert fic #lambert fanfiction #lambert x reader #lambert x y/n #witcher x y/n #reader fanfic #jaskier #coen #vesemir #ciri #geralt #geralt of rivia

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cosmos-coma · 1 year

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Could you write something about the reader being soft and gently tactile at the beginning of their relationship and Lambert having no idea how to react to this since he’s not used to such things

AKA attempts to cuddle cause Lambert.exe to crash

Lambert.exe has crashed

A/N: Lambert is an absolute goof. Idk if this is exactly the "gently tactile" you had in mind, but I thought this felt very fitting.

Pairing: Lambert x Reader

Words: 787

Warnings: none! (well, real quick editing).

___________________

You flopped back on the singular bed as you two finally settled down at the inn, the comfort of a soft mattress enveloping you with ease.

Lambert laughed quietly as he watched the mattress bounce with you and slid his gear off his shoulder. “Since you’re obviously so comfortable, I guess I'll take the first bath,” He said as he headed towards the bathroom, “don’t get too comfortable now, sweetheart. If you stretch out any further I’ll be sleeping on the floor.”

You grinned and starfished out, “or you could just cuddle with me..?”

You weren't offended as he snorted with laughter and closed himself off in the bathroom. It was still fairly early in your relationship and while you Lambert could be playful and handsy sometimes, he didn't seem to be able to be serious and gentle. But you supposed that was just how he was brought up.

He had told you a bit about the trials he faced as a child, the friends he lost. You knew he had turned to humor and clowning to cope with the difficulties he had grown up with, and being a witcher meant no body would be gentle with you- not even yourself.

He may not be used to such gentle loving as you badly wanted to give him…

But damn it if you weren't gonna love him like that anyways. You were nothing if not persistent after all; how else would you snag such a stubborn witcher?

Lambert exited soon enough, a small bit of steam wafting out after him as he came out looking fresh and new. A towel wrapped around his waist and his facial hair looked a little neater trimmed than normal, “your turn, mattress hog… the baths already warm and full for you.” he said with a hint of warmth in his teasing tone.

“You’re so sweet…” you grinned as you hopped up, “My big sweet monster hunter, my honey like witcher..” you said as you came over to him, mischief playing on your face already as you stalked closer, arms out.

“No, no, what are you doing- Y/n, back down.” Lambert warned, one hand on his towel and the other stretched out to keep you at bay.

“My warm hearted, funny jester of a man…” You grinned and jumped toward him.

Lambert was sure you were just going to pull down his towel, so he wrapped his free arm around you and held you tight against his chest. You were immovable and secure.

“Oh no…. Why hasn’t that spark left your eyes?” He asked, a worried look crossing his face until he realized “... I’ve fallen into your trap…”

You grinned as you surged forward to pepper the love-starved man in kisses. Sweet, quick, and soft- you had hoped Lambert might take your love a bit better in smaller doses, but you still watched him falter.

His face blushed a faint pink- something quite bright for a witcher- as he sputtered bits of words and you couldn’t make out. His hand stayed just as tight around you and you’re pretty sure you could hear the gears in his head whirling.

“Oh, Lamb..” You laughed softly as you patted his chest, pulling back to grab a few of your things. “Don’t worry, I won’t overwhelm you right away. You just go get comfortable, yeah? And I’ll be back for you soon” You kissed his cheek gently and lovingly as you made your way past him and to your waiting bath.

Lambert took a few more moments of stunned silence before his body let him kick back into gear. He would never admit it to another living soul, but he took a moment then to savor the lingering of your lips on his skin.

You sighed a breath of relief as you returned from the bathroom, a fresh scent rolling off your newly scrubbed skin.

Lambert's eyes followed you as you rounded the bed and climbed in beside him. Your hand outstretched questioningly, followed by the rest of you and you slowly brought yourself in to cuddle up against him. You gave him plenty of time to object and pull away, and to your surprise, the objection never came.

A small smile stretched across your lips as you laid your head down over his heart, your arms circling his waist to keep him comfortably close. You could still feel him seize up, his brain whirling like a top as he processed the tenderness of your touch.

Slowly though- and you didn’t think it true at first- his hand came and rested on your back. Perhaps it wasn’t a full cuddle, but it was a big step for the love-starved wolf and you couldn’t be prouder.

_____________________

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#lambert secretly wants soft things #but its so secret even he didn't know #lambert #witcher lambert #lambert x reader #lambert x y/n #lambert x you #lambert witcher #the witcher fanfiction #Lambert imagine #witcher lambert imagine

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honeywitchers · 1 year

Text

Witchers and Crafts Don’t Mix

A/N: This is from another one of my blogs that I decided to seperate my Witcher content from. I plan on deleting the original from that blog so if you have seen this before under a different name I promise I didn’t steal the story!

Pairing: Lambert x Fem!Reader feat. Eskel & Geralt

Content and Warnings: Strong Language per usual, banter, established relationship, use of Y/N and she/her.

Word Count: 684 just a lil’ guy

Summary: Y/N and the boys take a moment to rest and somehow end up trying out wood carving. It turns out that she and her significant other, Lambert, are the harshest critics.

It wasn’t often that Y/N and the group of witchers, who she lovingly referred to as ‘her boys’, got a little down time. Because of this, sometimes they found themselves doing the most unusual, uncharacteristic activities when the opportunity presented itself. Why not indulge in things other than monster slaying? I mean, why shouldn’t a group of burley, manly, intimidating witchers be allowed to sit upon scattered tree stumps in the middle of a field of long grass and wildflowers while whittling miniature animals out of wood?

“How do you like my creation, darling?” Y/N smiled widely, turning to her romantic companion, Lambert, who was sitting on a tree stump to her left.

“It’s….” Lambert paused for a moment to glare at Eskel, sitting across from him, who was not so sneakily trying to hide a snicker. “Esk, what do you think?”

Eskel’s face straightened up immediately when he noticed Y/N staring at him intently, waiting for an answer.

“Oh! It’s, um, it’s a lovely looking…uh…” Eskel’s eyes narrowed at the object that vaguely resembled an animal in her outstretched hand. “It’s a lovely looking goat, Y/N.” A grin slowly appeared on his face as Lambert rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Eskel!” She said, her face gleamed with delight.

The three friends turned their attention to Geralt, who was seated quietly on the ground against the only tree left in the field. His position was nearby, but far enough for the group to not hear what words he was mumbling to himself. As if he felt the sets of eyes focused on him, he lifted his head from his carving-in-progress.

“What?” Geralt grunted.

“What in fresh hell is that, wolf?” Lambert blurted, earning a smack to his shoulder from his love. “What?!?”

“Oh, don’t look offended, Lamb, you were being rude!” She scolded him.

“Yeah, Lamb.” Eskel repeated, emphasizing the nickname she gave him.

Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes, gently placing her finished wooden goat carving on the soft ground next to the stump she had been seated on. Placing her small dagger along with it, she then stood up and began to walk slowly over to Geralt.

“So….” She kneeled down in front of him. “What is it that you’re making, Geralt?” Her eyes narrowed, yet her smile never faltered.

“It’s….it’s supposed to be a donkey.” Geralt’s eyes didn’t meet Y/N’s as he set his whittling knife back into his leather pouch.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the misshapen object in his hands. It looked like it somehow had two heads, a rabbit’s tail, and seemed to be missing a leg.

“HA!” Lambert erupted with laughter. “Are you serious?” He stood up and walked over to join Y/N and his fellow witcher. “Geralt, tell me, since when do donkeys have two heads and three legs?”

“Hm.” Geralt grunted, tossing the donkey-like creature aside. “Better than her deformed goat.” He pointed at Lambert’s mate, unaffected by the frown on her face.

“Geralt!” She crossed her arms across her chest after she stood back up. “You know what? Yeah, Lamb, that looks nothing like a donkey.” Y/N smirked.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows and looked back and forth between her and Lambert, but said nothing.

“It kinda looks like roadkill.” She continued.

“HA! That’s my girl!” Lambert’s arm found its place around her shoulder.

“It’s got a face only a mother could love. Like it got pulled off a ship and mauled by an aeschna.” Y/N giggled as she went on. “Actually, is that a tail, or its intestines coming out of its ass?”

“She’s got a point, you know. Should listen to the lady. She knows her monster mauls…..and asses.”

“There is something deeply wrong with both of you.” Eskel chimed in, not daring to move from his seat, still whittling away at a clump of wood.

“What can I say, Eskel, I prefer my women disturbed.” Lambert smirked before placing a quick peck on Y/N’s lips.

“Yeah.” She looked at Lambert dreamily, hugging into his waist. “A match made in hell.”

#the witcher #lambert x reader #lambert x y/n #witcher imagine #lambert imagine #witcher eskel #geralt of rivia #witcher x y/n #witcher fic #lambert fic #eskel #blurb

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ellebakers · 7 months

Text

☆ Make me your Aphrodite (+18)

Dalton Lambert x reader

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

Warning(s) : SMUT, Language.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grabbed his face and kissed him again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like it don’t you ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You decided to taunt him a little “already ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still so sensitive.”

You laughed against his mouth. "Your fault."

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

You arched your back when he did the scissor.

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

“Y/n do you have my-”

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

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

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

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

"You’re coming ?"

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

Take your time."

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

"Slept well ?" Quinn asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You kissed him. "Sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t think, it just came out.”

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

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

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

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

"Promised."

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

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

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

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

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

"But it's me."

He pressed his forehead to yours and nodded.

"You are my image of Aphrodite."

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

#scream vi #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #scream #scream x reader #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x you #dalton lambert x reader #insidious

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ghqstfqce · 7 months

Text

In the shadow of others

Pairing || Dalton Lambert x NB ! Reader. One side Ethan Landry x NB ! Reader.

TW || SMUT. MINORS DNI. There is no description of Reader's body, only that they is fucking Dalton, not where, Dalton clearly has a penis. Translate with google and corrections for me. They/them pronouns.

Notes || I saw a Dalton x Reader post with Ex ! Ethan and emerged.

Ethan had always lived in Richie's shadow.

Richie the firstborn. Richie, dad's first and favorite son. Richie the one who always got the girls. Richie, who, although he did not have a university degree, was man enough to work. Richie, who Ethan should be a little more like, his father would say.

So when Richie had died, Ethan had felt some relief and although there was a small sting of guilt, the relief of no longer living under the pressure of meeting the pathetic expectations that Richie had filled.

But even so, Ethan still didn't have Dad's attention, the girls didn't hesitate to turn their backs on him for a second and it seemed pathetic how hard he had tried to get into that university in New York, when he could very well have been working.

When he met (Y/N) he couldn't help but feel that everything had been worth it, how every rudeness and abandonment by those he loved became absurd moments in his life while this sweet person smiled at him so brightly and seemed so happy to see him.

Ethan lived for (Y/N)'s attention, he lived for the care and affection that they provided to him. Since they would not hesitate to congratulate Ethan for trying so hard, they would hug Ethan whenever he felt happy, they would not hesitate to confront his father whenever she complained to Ethan for going to the big city, and they would pamper Ethan when he felt sad.

Ethan was in love with (Y/N), he saw them as his prize after everything he had endured and he was so ready to give his entire life to her without asking. That's why when Dalton Lambert showed up holding hands with (Y/N) he felt like Richie was coming back in spirit to screw up his life.

Seeing Dalton look so lovingly into (Y/N)'s eyes, seeing them hugging, seeing them being all adorable and sweet with each other, and seeing Dalton touching places that not even Ethan thought he was allowed to touch felt like a stab in his heart. But if hell was on earth, hearing (Y/N) moan so needily and cutely was the definition of that very hell.

He hadn't planned on going into that scenario, he hadn't really planned on going. But that day he had felt so tired and after another argument with his father he had felt such a need to run into his person's arms. He had thought that he would arrive, enter (Y/N)'s apartment with the spare key and they would snuggle like old times.

Instead, he arrived and entered (Y/N)'s apartment with the spare key to be met with the desperate and pleasurable moans of his person. Something told him to turn around and even so, he didn't hesitate to approach the open door of the main room and there, before his eyes was (Y/N) riding Dalton as if they would be paid for it.

Them hands on Dalton's chest for something to hold on to as they pushed them hips up and down to allow Dalton's large member, with each thrust in and out them moans only seemed to increase and yet they could hear the small slosh of fluids of (Y/N) with every thrust and the cherry on top of it all was Dalton's shitty smile.

That brought him out of his stupor, he didn't know how long he had been there, but it was long enough for Dalton to notice his presence and instead of getting angry he just looked at him smugly with a smile that could only express: "I won." And so it was, Dalton had won, he knew that (Y/N) was not an object, but only a blind man would not notice how lucky he was to have someone like that as his partner, again Ethan had been surpassed.

#ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x you #dalton lambert x y/n #dalton lambert smut

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danceinshadowundermoonlight · 2 years

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Stinky adorable man.

#witcher fanart #witcher eskel #eskelwolf #game eskel #eskel imagine #witcher tag #witcher 2 #the witcher #school of the wolf #more eskel #please #eskel x y/n #eskel x you #witcher geralt #lambert #witcher

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yenn-atreides · 2 years

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Me when I’m trying to see both Geralt AND Lambert when they’re both on screen in the Kaer Morhen episodes

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mentalpolaroids · 6 months

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Wolf's Home

(Part I)

Geralt of Rivia x female!Reader

Summary: Geralt takes Ciri to Kaer Morhen and reunites not only with his family of witchers, but also with the person that makes him feel at home the most

a/n: this is sort of rewrite of S02E02. Sorry for the use of (y/n) but couldn't really think of a name for the reader. Also, this is my first try at writing for The Witcher so be nice to me please!!

.................................................................................

She woke up that morning expecting to face another routine-repeating day, possibly with an occasional healing of one of the witchers coming back to Kaer Morhen from a hunt, or coming up with a new excuse as to why she didn’t want to eat whatever crap Lambert cooked for them. His turn on food duty was always a dreadful one.

Her days were never too adventurous, not since Vasemir had insisted on a more permanent stay at the keep two years ago, when she was dragged through the Blue Mountains by a silver haired witcher, both injured, after fighting and killing a monster together. An encounter she still couldn’t really understand to this day, how they happened to be in the same place, at the same time, looking for the same creature, but she knew better than to question Destiny.

Even with her own wounds to take care of, she still healed Geralt of Rivia first, who fell under her natural charm like a trap. He wondered if it was a spell, the way he so easily was put at ease in her presence. She was a mage after all. But as the days passed, he concluded that there was no spell besides the one used to close the gash on his abdomen. That woman was simply a caretaker by heart, one that somehow remained open and pure even knowing of the existence of nasty beings out there in the Continent. Everyone else in the Fortress seemed to be as mesmerized, and so, she was welcomed with open arms to stay, and heal, and fight with the witchers.

The ropes were starting to burn the palm of her hands from all the knots she had conquered in the last hour, but she definitely didn’t mind because it was at least keeping her hands warm as she stood outside, light snow falling over the already white ground.

One of the few advantages of the icy weather was that they could hear when someone was approaching, the crunch of the footsteps over the snow being hard to disguise. She heard those in the distance, but it was of a horse. (y/n) dropped the rope and grabbed her sword, preparing herself for the sight of the intruder before making her own known. But, the sight wasn’t at all what she expected. She didn’t know what to expect at all, but it sure wasn’t a familiar brown horse carrying Geralt of Rivia accompanied by a blonde girl, who (y/n) quickly convinced herself must’ve been a princess, if not for her looks, for her posture. She looked like she didn’t belong there, nor next to someone with the nickname The Butcher of Blaviken.

The girl got down from Roach and looked around curiously. Her dress blended with the snow, from afar, (y/n) wondered if she was even real. Her gaze didn’t last long on the girl when Geralt got down from his horse too, the mere sight of his face barely visible under his dark cloak sent a shiver of excitement to her stomach. He had always had that effect on her, but it seemed the longer she went without seeing him, the stronger the sensation got after meeting again.

The witcher and the princess shared words (y/n) couldn’t really hear from where she was still in the hiding, and as they started to walk towards the main entrance of the Fortress, the mage put down her sword and walked towards them.

“You sure we’re safe here?” the princess asked Geralt, who walked in front of her. (y/n) was not close enough to hear the question, not yet to be noticed.

“Safer than out there.”

Her voice seemed to echo in the silence of their footsteps coming to a stop, both turning their heads to their right, finally acknowledging her. Geralt’s lips curved into a brief smile, his yellow eyes softening when they locked with hers. (y/n) smiled back, the shiver in her stomach was now climbing to her chest and for a moment she forgot he could probably feel her heart beating faster. Good thing she didn’t mind him knowing how she felt around him.

Three steps away from coming face to face with the witcher, she slowed her pace, planning to walk past them.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my dearest friend in all the Continent.”

“It’s great to see you.”

“Oh I’m afraid I was speaking to my best girl here.” (y/n) approached Roach, caressing the horse over her nose and planting a light kiss on her short fur, “But it’s great to see you too, Wolf.” she walked towards him again, for a second forgetting it wasn’t just the two of them there. The way Geralt followed every step of hers, his gaze warm even in the middle of a Winter day. (y/n) opened her arms to him, “Welcome home.”

The man embraced her tightly against him and it felt like getting drowned in memories of his days with her. He had forgotten how much he cherished her affection, and holding her reminded him how nice it was to let his guard down for a brief moment. It all felt like he had never left.

“I missed you.” he murmured, unrecognizably self-conscious. He surely didn’t enjoy showing this vulnerable side of him, especially in front of someone else.

“I’m sure you did.” (y/n) let go of him, casting him a warm, welcoming smile, before looking to the girl standing behind him, now more curious about the pair’s dynamic than the Fortress, “And who’s this poor thing having to deal with your company?”

“This is Ciri.”

“Ciri.” (y/n) tried the name on her lips. She walked towards her with the same welcoming smile, but a different fondness in her eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Ciri.” she said as she extended her hand to the girl, “I’m (y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” she spoke softly, clearly wary of meeting a new face, but the shadow of a smiling curve on her lips showed potential trust as she accepted the handshake. After all, the woman was obviously someone dear to Geralt, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Is that so?” (y/n) smirked, hoping the cold outside cooled the warmth spreading across her face. She turned to Geralt, who watched the two girls interact, but the words were directed to Ciri, “I’m sure I have a lot to hear about you, too.” It was a warning to the witcher: an endless night of chatting was to come, questions needed to be answered, stories to be told and his whereabouts to be known.

As if reading Ciri’s mind, (y/n) squeezed her shoulder and tilted her head towards the entrance, “Don’t worry, you are safe here.”

“Keep up.” Geralt told the girl, and both followed (y/n).

They both pushed the heavy wooden doors and walked into the main room of the Fortress that was occupied with chatty men and the smell of burning wood and ale. (y/n)’s words echoing through the wide space caught their attention.

“Look what the snow dragged in, boys.”

All eyes turned to the mage and the murmur came to a stop when everybody noticed the figure standing behind her. Her attention turned to Geralt as well, in time to see him remove the hood of his cloak and finally getting a decent view of the face she missed so much. She also checked on Ciri, who looked uneasier than before, standing in the middle of a room full of men. (y/n) winked at her, hoping to reassure her everything was alright. Geralt noticed, and he too turned to the girl and nodded at her before moving to stand beside (y/n) as Lambert stood from his seat and walked towards them.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“We thought you got lost.” Coën followed Lambert, “Or killed.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Geralt smiled tenderly.

“Not yet. Sorry.”

The mage elbowed his side. She had always hated when he implied the possibility of his death at any moment, considering what he was and he did, in reality it wasn’t a massive impossibility. Still, even a simple joke triggered a non-existent grief that resided in her chest everytime she had to see the witcher leave and go long periods of time without hearing a single word from or about him. In his presence, (y/n) pretended he would stay forever, and if he didn’t stay, he would come back. Everytime.

Geralt caressed her back and brought her in for the embrace Lambert had already initiated. He then went on greeting and hugging the other witchers and, more than ever, Kaer Morhen felt like a real home. The family was back together.

“I guess I’m back to being second favorite now that you’re back.” Lambert complained to Geralt, referring to (y/n).

“Who said you were even a favorite in the first place?”

Geralt laughed.

“I hope you’ve all been treating her right.”

“We do, but she’s a mean one. Lucky for her, we don’t dislike her cooking.”

The banter was interrupted by Vasemir, who entered the room already smiling at the sight of the silver haired witcher.

“Wolf. You’re home.” the elder joined the commotion, “Finally.”

Ciri, still feeling out of place, placed herself visibly between Geralt and (y/n).

“Yeah. I had to make a few stops.” the witcher replied, referring to the princess next to him.

“He’s home!”

Once again, the commotion grew around Geralt as they kept celebrating his return. Ciri smiled shyly watching the content interactions.

“Come on,” (y/n) extended her hand for the princess to take, “I’m going to introduce you to everybody.”

When everybody settled enough for the mage to be able to order everyone to be nice to Ciri, the men were somewhat curious about the unexpected guest. The girl seemed less vigilant as she was offered a seat and cup and conversation started flowing as if both her and Geralt had always been there.

(y/n) stood next to him, a sigh leaving her nostrils as she crossed her arms and discreetly nudged the man’s broad figure.

“Yeah, I know. I have a lot to tell.”

“Yeah. You do.”

Geralt looked down at her to meet her eyes and, with a soft motion of his hand, uncrossed her arms. He smiled, in a way she knew he was promising to stay for a while. She couldn’t tell what he thought her eyes were saying, but whatever it was, he felt the need to hold her hand, hidden behind his cloak, caressing the cold skin of her knuckles with his thumb.

“I’m home.” his hoarse voice, along with the softness of his touch and stare, nearly warmed her up on the spot.

In the back of her mind, there was a voice telling her he would eventually leave again, but for once, she shut it down.

.................................................................................

Part II soon!

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia fic #the witcher netflix

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darling-i-read-it · 9 months

Text

Frat Party

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

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

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

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

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

(not my gif)

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

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

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

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

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

“Fine.”

“Yes!” “Sweet!”

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

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

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

“It’ll be fun,” you promised.

“If you say so.” -

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

You nudged him.

“Lighten up,” you said.

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

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

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

“Dalton?”

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

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

“You want some?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

You tried the next door. Locked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright,” you said.

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

“Chris,” you said.

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

“We’re going back to the dorms.”

“We just got here!” she exclaimed.

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

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

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

“Damn guys.”

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert imagines #insidious imagines

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 2 years

Text

How the Witcher Characters would react to Lambert's child surprise

...having a similar temper as him

A/N: I think Lambert and his child surprise would have a very fun dynamic that would entertain the witcher fans. They’d definitely argue a lot and then go off to opposite ends of the camp to sulk like children only to make up a few minutes later and kick some ass. It would make for some amazing banter in my opinion.

Tagged: @lucyinthelibrary @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @sunndust @bloatedandlonly (hmu to be added!)

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Geralt

He’s just surprised anyone can match Lambert’s verbal onslaught

Then again, he’s worried that you’ll hurt Ciri’s feelings, both of you being child surprises in Kaer Morhen

When the two of you do get in a fight, Ciri has to remind him that her grandmother is Calanthe

He doesn’t mind you raging on, he’s used to it from Lambert after all

More amused than insulted

Yennefer

Oh she’s pissed

She’s only just gotten used to Jaskier’s shenanigans, and now you

Nope, she can’t be around someone who expresses their anger so clearly

Avoids you, but will get into verbal arguments with you

The two of you are not good together, or scary together

Ciri

Literally does not care

As said, Calanthe is her grandmother

She’s thankful for some company that doesn’t treat her like a child or tiptoe around her

Great person to argue with (read: great sibling)

Perfect sparring partner

Triss

She’s so pure (at least in the Netflix series…)

Like, you CANNOT be angry at Triss

Only person exempt from your or Lambert’s anger

Which means that people flock her to avoid your anger

She doesn’t mind, enjoys her exclusive treatment

Eskel

He didn’t expect anything else

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree

The tree being an angry witcher with a potty mouth

Looks on in amusement, mostly

Bets with Geralt over the outcome of you and Lambert’s arguments

Coen

He’s Lambert’s friend – he didn’t expect anything less

You won’t enrage him past an eyeroll

Will team up with you against Lambert

Also a great help for when Lambert is actually insulted

Vesemir

The first time he meets you he immediately goes

NOT THIS

Too bad, you’re there now

Does not put up with any more versions of Lambert

Finds outlets for you to let off some steam so that he doesn’t have to deal with it

#geralt #yennefer #ciri #triss #eskel #coen #vesemir #the witcher #witcher imagine #the witcher imagine #geralt imagine #triss x reader #eskel x reader #coen x reader #lambert x reader #lambert x y/n #cirilla of cintra #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix

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hidden-misthios · 7 months

Text

Something in the Orange (part 3)

Pairing: Lambert x female!sorceress!reader

Word count: 3 427

A/n: I’m sorry for the long wait AGAIN but the last two months were wild. Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2

After a couple of failed attempts, impatient mumbles from Ciri and words of encouragement from Jaskier, Y/N did it. The portal was right there in front of them. She felt dizzy and could feel her energy draining incredibly fast but she was awfully proud of herself. Making portals was always risky but this one seemed completely stable. The only problem is going to be keeping it open until everyone crosses.

“Go!” Y/N yells but no one looks like they are ready to go first.

Lambert, who was standing closest to the portal, moves a step back.

“I’m not going to be able to do this whole day. Go.” Y/N looks at him, keeping her arms steady in front of her.

“Why me? So you can close it as soon as I cross over?” he crosses arms. Y/N rolls her eyes and turns around to her best friend.

“Jaskier. Please.” she looks at him with hope in her eyes. Jaskier hesitates for a bit, but slowly nods.

As soon as he moves a step forward, Lambert scoffs and slightly shakes his head.

Jaskier doesn’t say anything but steps forward again.

“Fine, I’ll go first. Save your precious troubadour ass from potential downfall.” he says and steps forward, standing in Jaskier’s way. Jaskier slightly frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything, as if he’s trying to read his mind.

“Go!” Y/N repeats before both men could say anything else.

Lambert glances at her then steps in front of the portal. The portal makes a loud sound but nothing happens as Lambert’s hand slowly touches the dimmed veil. He hesitates for a second before finally stepping inside.

Y/N is holding her breath.

There’s no response from the portal when Lambert fully disappears. Portal is still stable. Y/N feels her heart beating like she just ran a marathon.

He crossed safely. He’s fine.

“Next!” she says, her voice shaky.

Jaskier, who was already on his way when Lambert stopped him, moves forward again.

His fits are nervously clenched but he looks determined.

Once he’s gone, the rest of the group looks a bit more certain now. Portal is still stable, but Y/N feels the energy shifting slightly. Ciri moves closer as soon as Jaskier is through.

“We will have to speed things up a bit.” Y/N tells Vesemir when Ciri crosses over without a word.

She could feel the portal taking more and more energy from her. Y/N wasn’t sure was Ciri’s magic somehow to be blamed for that but she didn’t want to question it any longer.

Vesemir nods and moves forwards immediately. He knew what this meant. Portal was going to be unstable soon.

As Vesemir passes through, Y/N feels something warm on her lips. Her nose was already bleeding.

Shit.

She still had Coen and herself to go through. Portal could go unstable any minute now.

“Coen, wait!” she calls for him. The witcher halts and turns to her. “We need to go together!” she tells him, with hint of panic in her voice.

Coen is visibly confused but nods in silence. He joins her and slowly they start to approach the portal. Y/N’s arms are slightly shaking at this point and her vision is getting blurry.

Come on, you can do this.

As they are about to enter, portal suddenly shatters.

“Jump!” Y/N screams, flinging herself towards. The white light surrounds her and forces her to close her eyes.

The pressure inside her own mind is insane. It lasts only for couple of seconds and then suddenly Y/N feels the ground beneath her and the heaviness is gone. She dares to open her eyes, fully prepared for the worst.

But there she is, standing in front of small rescue group.

Relief hits her and she falls down on her knees. All of her energy was gone. It’s going to take days before she’s fully healed. The energy drained from her by the portal was equivalent to an entire month's worth of effort for an oneiromancer’s work.

Jaskier runs towards her, grabbing her around the shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” brushing the blood off her lips. Jaskier immediately offers her a handkerchief and Y/N takes it.

“Where is Coen?” Lambert asks. Y/N looks at him and then around herself. He wasn’t there. Her heart sinks.

“Where is he?!” Lambert asks, this time, much louder. Y/N manages to stand up with Jaskier’s help.

“He didn’t-”

Lambert is standing in front of her, lifting his arms and aiming for Y/N’s shoulders. Or neck. Y/N couldn’t be too sure.

Whatever his goal was, Lambert was stopped by Vesemir, who suddenly appeared by his right side.

“That’s enough, let her explain.” Vesemir gives him a warning look. “Y/N.” he looks at her now.

“Coen should be just fine. He didn’t jump on time so the portal closed in front of him.” Y/N says, finally leaning on her own feet without Jaskier’s help. Her friend still stood near, monitoring her every movement. “He is unharmed. Probably just upset he didn’t cross over.” she adds.

“If he’s not-”

“Oh, won’t you give me a break! I just held the portal open for 5 people. He is alive and well!” Y/N snaps at redheaded witcher. Lambert’s brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything this time. He turns his back on her in utter silence.

“Now…where are we?” Jaskier quietly asks, looking around. Everyone else does the same. Unfortunately, there isn't much to go on. The eerie woodland lay shrouded in an ethereal mist, its gnarled trees stretching their skeletal branches toward an ominous sky. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and moss. Jaskier, who was still standing next to Y/N, slightly trembles when a distant howl fills their ears.

“Maybe it’s just me, but this doesn’t look like Hengfors.” Ciri mumbles. Y/N feels the wave of shame overwhelm her. She really believed she was powerful enough to do this right.

It was still an early morning but the dense, dark clouds hindered the sunlight from piercing through. With each passing moment, the mist enveloping them grew denser and heavier.

“No, but we have to find our way there.” Vesemir adds calmly. Y/N slowly makes a step forward and approaches him.

“I’m sorry-” Y/N says. Vesemir’s yellow eyes stared at her with a piercing gaze. “Do not apologize, Y/N. You helped us.”

“We don’t even know where we are.” Y/N says feeling the slight dizziness overcome her again.

“We will get to the closest town. We should head west.” he says, this time to the whole group, which meant their discussion was over.

Vesemir took the lead and Ciri followed, tightly gripping the hilt of her silver sword.

Y/N nervously swallowed. Despite taking a deep breath, the dizziness persisted. She wouldn’t dare to stop the group for her own troubles. She had to walk.

Jaskier, who remained by her side, regarded her with a gaze filled with concern. Y/N felt even worse. She didn’t want anyone’s pity for her own failure.

“I’m fine. We should go.” she tells him.

“Can you walk?” he asks, obviously not convinced. Y/N nods and takes a few steps forward. The bard lets out a sigh, refraining from uttering a word, and began trailing behind Ciri.

Y/N's attention was drawn to Lambert's figure, catching a glimpse of him behind her with the corner of her eye. She didn’t like him walking behind her but had no energy or desire to fight him again.

The group walked in a tranquil silence, enveloped by the ambient sounds of nature that surrounded them. Even Jaskier remained quiet, occupied with his own thoughts and worries about their current location.

But no one blamed Y/N. Not even the red headed witcher at the end of the line.

Y/N fixated on her own steps, each one proving more difficult than the last. All she wanted now was to lay down and sleep for days.

***

After a few hours of (mostly) silent walking, the landscape around them began to change - woodland was replaced by eerie swamp. Y/N took a deep breath. The air became infused with a pungent aroma, carrying the unmistakable scent of decaying vegetation and stagnant water that defined the wetland.

Muscles in Y/N’s legs were screaming. Her whole body did. She had reached the point where she truly didn't know how much longer she could continue walking. When she finally raised her gaze from the ground, which had captivated her attention for the past half hour, she came to the realization that she had fallen behind. Jaskier now walked at least 10 meters ahead of her, leaving her with the undeniable awareness that her pace had slowed down.

“We have to pick up the pace. We don't want to be trapped in a swamp when it gets dark.” Vesemir shouted from upfront. Lambert, who was still walking behind Y/N quietly, didn’t say anything, but Y/N heard his steps getting closer to her now. When he finally bypassed her, Y/N felt helpless. Her own feet were betraying her. She struggled to focus on each step, but her vision was blurring with every moment.

She abruptly stopped. At last, her body yielded to the unforgiving grasp of exhaustion, and her knees crumpled to the ground with a muffled thud. Y/N’s eyes already closed when she felt someone’s hands catch her around her waist.

As her consciousness slipped away, she was embraced by the sudden darkness.

***

She slowly regained consciousness, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal the unfamiliar surroundings. Groggy and disoriented, Y/N took a deep breath, feeling her body gradually come back to life.

“Y/N!” she heard a familiar voice next to her. She moves her head to the side. Jaskier lowered himself into a crouch beside her, immediately helping her to sit up. Y/N looks around.

By the sound surrounding them, she was sure they were still in the wetlands. A disappointed sigh escaped her lips.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jaskier asks her, monitoring her face as if she was about to faint again.

“I didn’t want us to stop walking.” she mutters, trying to get up on her unsteady feet. It was pitch darkness around them, the only light sources were small lanterns placed around their improvised campsite.

“Sit down! We won't be going anywhere until morning.” he scolds her.

“Jaskier, I’m fine. We can go.”

“That’s what you said the last time and then fainted into that revolting mud.” he retorted with a tinge of frustration in his voice.

Suddenly Y/N remembers the last moment before the world blackened in front of her eyes. She instinctively touches her waist, as if expecting to still feel the lingering touch of hands upon it.

“But you got me. I didn’t fell.” she says, unsure in her own words. Was it Jaskier? Or was she imagining the whole thing?

“I-I didn’t.” Jaskier says reluctantly, his eyes suddenly looking away from her. Y/N frowns.

“Jaskier…”

“Fine! It was him!” he finally confessed, lowering his voice. Then his gaze shifted to Y/N’s left side. She slowly turns her head.

Lambert.

He rested against a fallen ash tree; arms crossed over his chest with his head slightly bowed down. He was asleep. Or at least looked like he was. Y/N wasn’t even sure if witchers ever properly slept.

“Him?” Y/N whispers but there was panic in her voice.

“Yes, him.” Jaskier says impatiently, still looking at the redheaded witcher. “He carried you for an hour without a word. When I insisted that I should be the one to carry you, he told me to get lost. Can you imagine!” he says, not even bothering to hide his reluctance.

Just as Y/N was about to voice her complaint, the witcher's sudden movement startle them both, causing them to jerk back in surprise.

“In fact, I believe my exact words were ‘sod off’.” Lambert mutters to Jaskier, but his gaze is pierced on Y/N. Y/N’s mouth open but she’s speechless.

Why on earth would he carry me?

Jaskier stood up. With an indignant huff, he straightened his posture. "Well then, aren't you a delightful specimen of manners." he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lambert glances at him with a sardonic smirk, clearly amused. “Happy to be of service.”

“Alright, now that’s settled...” Y/N interveners, still feeling uncomfortable. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere near Creyden or Luton. Braa river is this way.” Lambert turns the point of his dagger to the north.” We won’t be sure until the morning.”

Y/N took a moment to realize where they are. “So…I didn’t mess up.”

“What do you mean ‘mess up?” Jaskier asks with confusion. Y/N finally manages to get up on her own feet. She located her leather bag just a few steps away from her. Thankfully, she carried a map with her!

“Hengfors,” she exclaims optimistically as she crouched down, “is just right behind us.” Y/N lowers the map on the somewhat of a flat stone. With a quick motion, she straightens the crumpled piece of paper. Jaskier and Lambert appear beside her, each holding a lantern to illuminate the map.

“If your assumptions are right, we should be right here.” she points to a blank part of the paper, surrounded by four cities – Blaviken, Luton, Jamurlak and Hengfors.

“Fuck.” Lambert quietly says, turning around. Y/N’s optimism suddenly vanishes.

“Isn’t that good? We know where we are.” she asks, standing up again. Lambert doesn’t look at her, but somewhere in the black void that was surrounding them.

“These roads are feeding grounds for kikimoras.” he mutters, as the flickering glow of the lantern bounced off the contours of his stern face.

“Of course they are.” Jaskier anxiously uttered his words, his throat tight with tension.

Y/N felt the chills down her spine. She never encountered any monsters. She had no idea how to fight. She didn’t need to do that in Novigrad anyway.

“I’m sure you have plenty of experience in fighting monsters with Geralt, bard.” Lambert mocks him, lowering the lantern on the ground.

“Actually I’m- “

“Don’t answer that.” Y/N interrupts him. “Where are Ciri and Vesemir?” she decides to change the subject.

“They are taking turns guarding the camp.” Lambert answers and settles down on the very same tree where Y/N first spotted him when she woke up. “My shift just ended so excuse me for a next hour or two.”

Y/N and Jaskier return to the spot where Y/N woke up and they sit down on her bedroll.

“You should sleep too, you know.” Y/N tells her friend. Jaskier shakes his head immediately.

“Not a chance. I’ll watch over you.”

“I just woke up. You should be the one sleeping.” she insists.

“I’m not-”

“You don’t own me anything, Jaskier.” she gently nudges his arm, smiling at her friend.

“I do. And least I can do is let you sleep.”

“You won’t be of any use to me tomorrow if you’re going to be tired.” Y/N continues. Jaskier lets out a sigh. Heavy-lidded and burdened with the weight of exhaustion, his eyes were veiled by a haze of fatigue.

“Fine. But only for a few minutes.” he says, leaning against the log behind him. “Promise you’ll wake me up.”

***

Y/N, of course, did not wake up the bard. She sat there, surrounded by the darkness of the eerie swamp and just watched. Her surroundings were mostly quiet – occasional hoots or croaking from shallow waters. The night seemed peaceful which calmed her nerves.

As the early light of dawn emerged on the horizon, Vesemir and Ciri made their way back to their camp. Despite their appearance of alertness, Y/N knew that the lack of rest was taking its toll on them.

“Someone’s finally awake.” Ciri says with a mocking tone, but the smile on her face was friendly.

“I’m sorry-”

"Pay no attention to her, Y/N," Vesemir softly adds, tossing a flask full of water towards the girl. Ciri catches it swiftly, gulping down half of it in an instant. Older witcher walks over to Y/N and gazes at the slumbering bard. Jaskier's mouth is slightly ajar, emitting gentle snores as he rests peacefully.

“Not quite a guardian, that one.”

“I told him to sleep.” Y/N explains and finally gets up on her feet. She felt safer now when they were all together again. Ciri joined Lambert, gently tapping him on the shoulders. Witcher instantly opened his eyes and looked at the group surrounding him.

It was time to move.

Few hours and lots of kilometres later, they finally saw signs of civilization. The sun had risen high in the sky, yet it offered little warmth. Vesemir and Ciri were leading the group, but even their firm steps started to slow down after a while. Jaskier was awfully quiet again, but Y/N knew better than to ask questions.

And behind her, there was Lambert again.

From time to time, Y/N swore she could feel his gaze but when she subtly turned around to check, he wasn’t looking. It was annoying and distracting, she realized, but there was nothing to say or do without starting another fight with stubborn man.

It was late afternoon when they finally reached the city of Luton. If such a place could even be called city, Y/N thought. At the core of the city lay a bustling and malodorous port, where the constant cries of seagulls filled the air, circling overhead as they mingled with the scent of the sea.

Vesemir suddenly stops and turns around to face the group.

“Alright. This is where we split up. Ciri-” he turns to the girl “Find us a supply shop. Herbs, oils, whatever you can think of.”

Ciri nods and leaves, not waiting for other instructions. Y/N is nervously looking around, not really sure if splitting up is good idea.

“Jaskier.” Vesemir turns to face the bard. Jaskier clears his throat and steps forward as he was waiting for his instructions. “Find us a quiet inn for tonight. Not too crowded nor too empty. Somewhere we won’t draw attention. Find me here in an hour.”

“Got it.” Jaskier nods quickly, looks around a few times and then leaves in the same direction where Ciri left just few seconds ago. Y/N knew it was her turn now.

Vesemir turns to her, with a soft look in his eyes. “Y/N. You’re going to snoop around. Look for the notice boards. Eavesdrop for the stories about our whereabouts. If someone is looking for us, we have less time than we thought.” he says, occasionally glancing around. Y/N suddenly straightens her back, as she feels chills going down her spine.

“Where should I meet you?” she asks quietly.

“We will find you after everything is prepared.” Vesemir says. Y/N quietly nods and decides to follow Ciri’s and Jaskier’s direction.

“Oh, and Y/N.” Vesemir adds before she has the chance to make another step forward. “Take Lambert with you.”

Both Y/N and Lambert groan.

“I can do this on my own, Vesemir.” Y/N says. Vesemir’s eyes suddenly darken.

“Can you? Could you defeat a drunkard who wants to fight you? Would you find a thief who steals your bag or money? “He asks her, his voice suddenly colder. Y/N suddenly feels ashamed and doesn’t know what to answer. She was a sorceress. If things got out of hand she could always rely on her magic. But she knew that would be the end of her. This wasn’t Novigrad – and magic wasn’t welcomed here.

“And you” suddenly he turns to Lambert. “Stay out of trouble. Keep an eye on Y/N. And don’t draw attention to yourselves.”

Lambert looks at Y/N and then back to Vesemir. “Got it.” he mutters and joins Y/N.

“What about-” Lambert was about to ask, but when he turned around again to face Vesemir, he was already out of sight. “Fast for an old man.” he mutters and faces Y/N. He looks at her for couple of seconds and sighs.

“What?” she asks, even more nervous now when he was completely focused on her.

“You’re not good at this, you know.” Lambert says and approaches her. Y/N freezes when his hands move towards her shoulders. He grabs the edges of her coat and pulls the hood over her head. Y/N frowns a little.

“Of course I’m not! I generally don’t waste my days hiding around foul-smelling cities or looking for kidnapped witchers.” she finally says, crossing arms on her chests.

“Well today is your lucky day, your highness.” he grins and pulls hood over his own head as well.

“Let’s go.”

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cosmos-coma · 1 year

Note

Hey!! I really love your writing! All witcher characters are very much on point, it’s amazing😍 i would have an idea for a Lambert fic if you don’t mind! How about reader is very much interested in learning from the witchers and hunting down monsters herself but Lambert is just very overprotective of her and thinks she’s insane for risking her life but in the end reader actually saves Lambert’s ass?? And they get together after that and it’s all fluff?? You can add anything to it, i love your Lambert!💜

Beasts and Books

A/N: Aww, thank you so much! I've been worried about my characterization- especially of Lambert, but I'm so glad you like him! and Okay, so fair warning this isn't edited like my other ones usually are and that's because I got carried away and wrote the longest one shot of my fucking life lol. I hope you enjoy it!!

Pairing: Lambert X Reader

Words: ~4k

________________________

Years ago- back when you were growing up in Velen, you actually started out as a farmer's daughter. Your mothers worked hard, taking care of the sheep, shearing them, and weaving the wool into yarn or bolts of fabric. You had been placed in charge of raising the lambs, rounding them up, and generally keeping them out of trouble. It was a lot harder than it sounded.

They often fought with each other or knocked over their milk buckets and seemed to do everything in their power to get you just that close to selling them and being done with them. But you knew your mothers would never allow it and so you grumbled and just kept on.

But it was the lambs actually that happened to change your life too. It had been raining all morning and you had almost finished feeding the lambs when “Hold on- One, two, three, four, five- Where is number six?” you questioned, looking to the rest of their little faces as if they’d even have the manners to answer you, let alone the vocal cords.

You scowled, hiking up your skirt as you stepped around in the muck, trying to find a sign of the tiny little lamb that got loose- the youngest of the batch this year. “Ah-hah!” you exclaimed when you spotted the trail of little hoofprints that slipped past the gate. He must’ve slipped through the fenceposts- he always was good at using his size to his advantage.

“Come on, lamb! I’m not gonna do this all day!” You followed the hoofprints into the forest nearby, prints few and far between as he must’ve been having the time of his life evading you. “Baaaa!” he let out a little bleat from just beyond the shrubs before you.

“Gotcha!” you grinned and popped your head over the shrubs, finding the lost lamb chewing on a rather damp book. “Well now, what have you gotten into?” You asked as you scooped him up, another bleat escaping him as the book fell away from his mouth. It looked like he’d found his way into an abandoned camp. There was a cold abandoned campfire and evidence of a bed roll flattening down the lengthy grass; you found bits of broken leather here and there- probably from someone doing repairs.

“Looks like whoever it was left in a hurry…” You commented, ignoring the lamb who was now more interested in chewing on the ends of your hair than anything else. You flipped open the worn cover and read the title of the book aloud, “Brother Adalbert’s Bestiary… huh”

“Y/N!” You heard one of your mothers call from the house; she must’ve come to check on how you were doing in the rain and not seen you in the lamb’s pen. “Coming, Mother!” You shouted in her direction and quickly scooped up the book before trudging back towards the house.

Once you got back home and finished up with the lambs you parked yourself right in front of the crackling fireplace, drying both yourself and the book as you carefully flipped through it again and again, reading as you dried out its pages.

‘Ghouls, nekkers, wyverns, barghest, the list goes on and on’ you thought to yourself as you skimmed through the pages, despite having been out in the rain it wasn’t as damaged as you thought it might be, even the notes lining the margins of each entry were still legible. You flipped to the beginning again to make sure the pages were dry when you came upon a little mark on the inside of the cover. It was a little sketchy and messy, but it looked like a little drawing of a wolf head next to the Letter ‘L’.

That was then- now you were a little older- still a farmer’s daughter, but now you were responsible for hunting monsters. You were no witcher, that was obvious- but you still made do. You had studied that bestiary until you knew it like the back of your hand, you saved up all your money to buy yourself a rinky-dinky set of armor and an old sword. You started small- fighting only what you knew you could take on; barghests and ghouls mostly- occasionally you attempted to help rid the swamp towns of bloedziuger, but you had yet to get down the speed you needed when they exploded into acid.

You ran your fingers over the dappled scaring on your arm, a testament to when you had started out on this path you had chosen. You had used your smarts to set traps for your monsters to make it easier for you as a regular human, earned some good coin, and invested that into better equipment. Now you had a good custom-made silver sword, a sturdy but light set of armor, and were beginning to save up for a good horse too.

“Alright Miss, this is as far as I’m taking you.” the cart driver had said, pulling his mule to a stop in the middle of a small village. “You can walk the rest if you really need.” he kept watching you expectantly as you hopped off the back of his cart, making sure he didn't see the few apples you had swiped into your bag.

“Yeah, thank you…” You murmured and handed him a few orens from your satchel to which he grinned and nodded his head.

“Much obliged, Miss…” He tipped the edge of his worn-out hat and continued off down the road.

“Yeah, sure you are…” You let out a sigh and stretched your legs, before heading over to the notice board. “Let’s see what we’ve got here…”

You glanced it over, seeing mostly trade notices, but it seemed that there were a few notices you could actually fulfill too; wolves had attacked the livestock of one house, while wyvern seemed to be picking up the sheep of another one nearby. Probably were getting bothered by the same monster, but you figured you'd check them both out to be safe.

You glanced around the town as you stood- it smelled overwhelmingly of animals and stove fires, but your nose had become so used to those over the years that it hardly struck you anymore. A few old women sat out in front of a house, idling and chatting in the late afternoon while chickens clucked and scurried around the streets openly. You guessed there would be a few more hours of sunlight left, so you probably had time to start your investigation before it became too dark for you to see.

You set out to the other side of town to investigate the wolf contract first, figuring yours get the easy things out of the way first.

And Thankfully it really was only wolves that were bothering this farmer and you were able to finish up the contract just before the night began to really fall. So you headed back to the local Inn, coin enough for a room now in hand, and maybe even enough for dinner too if you negotiated right. You were fortunate, you knew, that you were completely human- After all, it meant that people almost always treated you better. You didn’t have any problem with nonhumans, in fact, in this line of work you had even met several pleasant ones you'd like to see again- but you also couldn't ignore that you benefited from the way others treated them.

It had just become fully dark when you came up outside the inn, torches along the road lighting your way back. When you came to the town square you heard a man trying to talk to one of the older ladies you had seen before.

“Hey, you. Yes, you Miss. Where the hell are all the notices for witchers? I thought this was Velen- you guys always have some sort of shit going on for us to solve.” he said, sounding rather obnoxious as even his horse seemed to huff in protest.

After grumbling something about ‘kids these days’, she motioned towards you, “apparently you’ve been beaten to it, Mutant. And I thought you witchers were supposed to be faster than us humans…” She snapped back at him with a smug look on her face.

The man quickly turned to you and now you could see his yellow cat-like eyes and the scar running down beside his right eye. He had worn but rather unique armor and twin blades strapped to his back.

‘Nope. I’m not dealing with this right now’, you thought to yourself and quickly slipped inside the Inn. You went up to the innkeeper first thing, getting a room for the night and what little food and drink you could afford with the rest of your coin. Thankfully the witcher still had yet to come inside yet so you tucked yourself in a corner to eat and read by yourself.

You opened up the bestiary as you ate, looking over the entry on wyverns. You had read this entry over dozens of times, but you didn’t want to risk missing anything that could help you later.

“One room for the night if you will.” The man from earlier asked, now at the innkeeper's table.

“Afraid we’re all out of rooms. She got the last one.” The keeper said as he threw a thumb in your direction.

The turned to look and you were sure he swore under his breath at the exact moment you did before his face twisted into a frown. His footsteps were quiet as he came over to your table, setting his swords down. “So first you take all my contracts, then you take my room. Who the hell are you anyway? You don’t even look like a witcher, you look more like a wannabe knight.” He said callously.

“Wow, quite the introduction. Are all witchers as charming as you Or do you have them all beat?” you retorted flatly, not even sparing another glance up at him. “It’s just my luck I guess. My luck and your getting fucked.” you added, chucking a bit at your own rhyme.

A wicked grin crossed his face and he leaned in closer, chin resting in his hand. “Oh..? You’ve got a bit of a bite in you, huh? I’m Lambert…” He introduced himself.

You looked at him, giving him a quick once-over with your eyes before you cracked a small smile his way and nodded. “I’m Y/n.”

“Y/n? Well, now I have a name for all my problems. So what’s got you so enwrapped that you can barely look up at me? It’s gotta be pretty good because I’m- Hey, I know that book.” He reached over and took it from right in front of you.

“Hey!” you yelled and went to snatch it back, but his witcher instincts made him far faster. “That's mine-”

“Where the hell did you get this?” he seemed a lot more serious now as he held up the book and looked back at you, suspicious eyes looking over your face to see any indication of lying.

“I found it in the woods years ago, its Mine-” you went to emphasize again, but he interrupted you once again.

“No. No, this is mine.” He stated and opened up the inside cover, pointing to the little wolf drawing and the ‘L’. “This is me. Lambert of the school of the wolf. I lost this thing ages ago. I didn’t think I’d ever find it again.”

You sighed as you watched him look over it with a level of care that was reserved for that of something like a childhood friend. This was the book that had shaped your life up to this point, but…. If it belonged to someone else, isn’t it only right that they have it again? You’d read that thing forwards and backward anyways, what more will it be able to tell you?

You let out a small sigh but kept quiet as he flipped through the pages when he paused for a moment. “Wait- this note isn’t mine… Neither is this. ‘Afraid of bees and will actively avoid established hives’ , ‘bad climbers. Easy to trap in pits and kill, but will become feral in their attacks. Keep out of reach.’ “ Lambert read aloud, looking from entry to entry at the notes you had written in as you learned.

“These are… yours? Did you… use this book to become a monster hunter?” He asked, looking at you in a mix of wonder and confusion. “You’ve got to be fuckin' insane- why would a human ever want to become a monster hunter?” after a half second of thought he handed the book back to you, which you brought to your chest possessively.

“You said it yourself, Velen always has shit going on for you guys to solve. I grew up here and it's turning into something that’s almost too dangerous to live in. I wanna change that.” you shrugged it off as if it was nothing, but what you did held great importance to you.

Lambert was quiet for a moment, something that you gathered was probably unusual for him, as he seemed to take in your words.

“But-” you started, trying to shift the topic and lighten the mood a bit. “How about to make up for stealing your book and all your jobs I let you stay in my room with me. You set up a bedroll in front of the fireplace or something.” you grinned a bit as you offered, watching his face turn from something serious into a charming smirk that you could feel draw you in a little more than you'd like to admit.

You two spent the rest of the night chatting and throwing quips back and forth at each other, and before your drinks were done it felt like you had known each other for decades. There was a layer of sarcasm over much of the vulnerability there, but you could see past it easily.

When you two made it up yo your room for the first time that night you discovered that the one bed the room had was actually a lot bigger than you had thought it would be. There was easily room for 2 people to sleep and still keep a bit of distance if they wanted.

“Hey, Lambert?” you looked back at him as he came to the door, “not to be too forward, but would you like to just share the bed? I can keep to my own side if you can.” you posed to him and set your stuff down on one side.

“Sure as hell beats the hell out of a bedroll.” He smiled and dropped his stuff on the other side and began pulling off his armor.

Your brain became like fuzzy static as you watched his tunic ride up through the motions he went through. The thin strip of skin and the distinct line of the ‘V’ his pelvis made was all you saw, but it was all you needed too.

“Don’t tell me our little monster hunter is getting distracted…” he said smoothly with a little chuckle to his voice.

Your blush glowed like a radiant lamp and you quickly turned away to snuff out that burning flame. “I just- well. You don’t want your armor on for sleeping? Isn’t it safer that way?”

“What- are you gonna stab me?” he moved to lounge out on the bed, putting his arms behind his head and exposing his midsection to you again.

“Well- I. No, of course not.”

“Well, then I should be fine. Are you just gonna stand there all night?” He said with a huge grin, patting the bed beside him. That bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

“Shut up” you looked away and quickly and quietly got down to your tunic and underclothes. You climbed under the warm covers and pulled the blanket high around your shoulders. “Are you gonna sleep above the covers tonight?” You asked, rolling over to face him and pushing your hair out of your face.

A smile came over him when he looked over at you, it was softer than the others he had offered you tonight and a little more sincere as well. “I’m gonna be up for a little while. You know us Witchers, we don't really sleep much.” He shrugged and ran a hand through his already pushed-back hair. “Don’t you worry about me, you get some sleep…”

You struggled to hold back a yawn as you nodded in agreement. “Goodnight, Lamb.” you mumbled before drifting off into a sound sleep.

“Goodnight, little monster hunter…” the witcher mumbled quietly as he watched your sleeping face. He hadn’t felt this… soft sort of feeling before. Something that felt so deep and so real it almost scared him to admit he was feeling it, but as he looked down at your sleeping face he felt ease wash over him. How could you throw yourself into such a profession? Didn’t you know the risks? You even had the choice of it, unlike him…

“Mmph…” you mumbled out as you shifted in your sleep, reaching out for something that wasn’t there.

Without a second thought, Lambert put his arm in the way of your reaching hands, smiling a bit as your hand naturally found his and you held his arm close to you in comfort.

“What am I gonna do with you..?” he mumbled into the quiet night once more.

When morning came you woke up to an empty and cold bed, but you weren't sure why that seemed to hurt for some reason…. But within minutes your witcher had returned with breakfast in hand.

“So, we’re hunting a wyvern?” Lambert asked as he handed you a plate.

“Good morning to you too.” you remarked with a smile, “looks like. We can prepare after breakfast?”

And so you two did, when breakfast was finished you two gathered up your things and made for the stables.

“Here, you can ride on the horse. I’ll walk- I hate trying to follow a creature's trail on horseback…” he justified as he helped you up, hands on your waist as he boosted you up.

“Thanks, Lamb… lead the way?” you smiled down at him, grabbing the reins.

You two made your way to towards the last house on the way out of town, looking around for evidence of this wyvern and following the blood trail towards what you could only guess would be a nest.

“So, look-” Lambert started. “Why don’t I just take this one? You know how tricky these draconids can be.” He offered, looking up at you to see your reaction, but it wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for.

Your brow furrowed and you shook your head. “What? No. I’ve taken monsters on my own before so why should this be any different?” you argued. “No, If you want we can fight it together, but I'm gonna be there either way.”

“Look- I get that you’re supposed to be a monster hunter and all, but why would you want to go ruin a pretty face like that? Why don’t you just keep yourself out of trouble?” he sounded a bit less hypothetical now and a little more like an argument.

“So you think I’m pretty?” you asked with a smirk, trying to turn the topic of conversation. You really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. You’re a monster hunter! And even though you’re still figuring things out you didn’t want it to stop you.

The witcher only sighed at your response. “Yeah, I do…” his words drifted off a bit as he slowed to a stop, his horse automatically stopping beside him. “Hey, I’ll be right back, okay? I’m gonna go take a leak before the fight. First rule of being a witcher you know”, He said and headed off into the thicker brush, his somber tone resonating in your mind.

“That cannot possibly be true.” you laughed a touch and watched him go, sighing a bit, but taking the moment to get your things ready, bombs and potions from the recipes scribbled in the back of the book.

But it was taking quite a while for Lambert to come back…

“Come on, Lamb! I’m not gonna do this all day!” You shouted, feeling a sense of Deja vu as you called those words. You waited around a few minutes more until you heard an exasperated and pained cry coming from far off past the brush.

“Damn it, Lambert!” you yelled as you processed what he had done and stirred his horse into motion, tugging its reins towards said noise. You were angry, to be honest. I mean, did he just think you couldn’t do it by yourself? Did he think that because you were human you couldn't fight like he did? The thoughts alone made your blood boil and your skin grow hot and itchy as it was whipped by the wind.

When you finally came onto the scene you saw Lambert rushing around on the cliff's edge, battling the aged draconid all by himself. You practically threw yourself off the horse and into the fight as you came in close. “Damn it, Lambert! You lying bastard!” you yelled and drew the Wyvern's attention to you now as you stabbed your sword into its tail.

“Don’t yell at me, it was for your own good!” He yelled back as he cast Igni, vying for its attention to come back to him.

“My own good? You sound like my bloody mothers!”

“Sweet Melitele, I did it to protect you!” Lambert shouted, looking to you instead of the wyvern now and dropping his guard.

“Lambert…” you sighed, breath coming out in heavy huffs as you fought off the creature. But you didn’t get the chance to say anything more before the annoyed creature whipped its tail at the witcher and flew off with the last of its strength.

He had jumped back in just the nick of time but unfortunately didn’t realize how close he was to the edge. With one foot on stable ground and the other about to step off the cliff’s edge, his body's momentum had him off kilter and about to topple over….

“Lambert!’ you yelled and ran towards him, grabbing him by his sword’s sheath strap just in time and yanking him forcefully back onto safe ground. You stumbled backward to safety and landed on the ground right beside your annoying witcher.

“How’s that for ‘I did it to protect you’?” you huffed in an attempt to catch your breath, nudging Lambert with your elbow as he processed that he had almost died.

“Holy shit….” he muttered, reaching unconsciously for your hand- much like you had done just the night before.

You set your sword down and put your hand out to find his. “Lamb… while I admire you trying to protect me I don't want you to become overprotective. I love doing what I do- after all, I chose this path. And I know I'd love it more if I could work side-by-side with you” You looked to him as you talked, watching his expression turn sincere, but not uncomfortable. “I’d love to learn more about monster hunting from you, but don’t count me out just yet, okay?”

Lambert nodded, a smile forming over his features as he squeezed your hand. “I suppose it’s the least I can do since you saved my life… How about we finish off this wyvern together?”

You nodded, a grin spread across your face once again. “Together.”

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Taglist: @open--till--midnight @writingmysanity @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

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#yesss i love a good lambert #i hope you enjoyed it! i know it might not have been everything you asked for but i got really passionate.#Lambert #witcher lambert #lambert imagine #The witcher #As always im usually thinking of Game!lambert #but you can imagine him however #tw3 #Lambert x you #Lambert x y/n #Lambert x Reader #Witcher self insert #self insert #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfiction #Request me anytime!

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finelinevogue · 1 year

Text

in this world, it’s just us

summary - you and harry attend the Brits, drink a little and love each other a lot

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, pregnancy talk?!, tears of joy

word count: +4.3k

pairing: famous!reader x harry

“Y/N, babe? Jeff needs us to– Woah!”

Harry entered the bedroom where you were getting ready. You were surrounded by Harry’s hair and make-up team whilst you got dressed for the Brit Awards tonight.

You blushed a smile as Harry’s jaw dropped a little and put a hand over his heart, as if you’d just punctured him there.

“What?” You asked, pretending like you didn’t know you’d just given him a minor heart attack with how good you looked - because you did look amazing.

“You… Just wow, lovie.” He smiled.

“Wow to you too.” You replied, allowing him to come and give you a quick chaste kiss. He didn’t want to get told off for ruining your makeup yet, but later on in the evening there was going to be no stopping his flirtatious self all over you.

“Y’going to the Brits like that, hun?” Bella, a make-up specialist, asked Harry as she pointed to his displayed abs.

“If m’wife lets me? Yeah.” Harry posed with his hands on his hips, making people whistle in admiration for him. Harry blushed and awkwardly laughed then, getting shy over the attention he was being given.

“Well, as much as I love your body I do love the suit as a complete look.” You explained.

“Y’love my body do you?” He raised his eyebrows and gave you a flirtatious look.

“Of course that’s all you took from what I said.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head playfully. “Now go get ready before Jeff tells you off.”

“Okay, okay! Couldn’t get enough of me this morning and now you’re sending me away like I’m an expired carton of milk.”

“What even..?” Harry Lambert laughed, standing in the doorway probably looking for Harry. People in the room started laughing too, but Harry was only looking at you to gauge your reaction. He didn’t care if he made a whole room of people laugh, because it was only your reaction that meant any value to him.

So when you chuckled, he couldn’t help but chuckle too because he had put that smile on your face and he’d be damned if he didn’t take a minute to soak up the sunshine radiating from you.

“Baby, you know I love you but we need to hurry up.” You calmed yourself from laughing too much.

“Okay. One more kiss, though?”

Of course you instantly nodded, bringing Harry in for a few more kisses than just the one. He repeatedly kissed you, until he knew that you’d got the memo that he loved you very much.

“Did I mention y’look beautiful?” He whispered against your lips and it made the people around you swoon over how perfectly he treated you. If only everyone had a Harry in their lives.

“Mhm.” You nodded, still in post-bliss from his kisses.

After a few more kisses and a stern shout from Harry Lambert, for Harry to come and finish getting ready, Harry was out of the room and you were back to getting ready yourself. Bella re-touched-up your lipstick and Kenna fastened the straps on your heels for you. Before you knew it, you were completely glammed up and ready to go to the Brits.

“That man’s love for you is unconditional.” Bella made heart eyes after your interaction with Harry.

“I like to think so, yeah.” You chuckled, walking across the room to collect your purse and start breaking in your heels.

“The man on the moon could see his heart beating for you, Y/N, seriously.” Kenna added.

You stood in front of the floor-length mirror and straightened out all the tiny creases in your dress. It was a gorgeous black dress, to match Harry’s black suit. You had never been too confident with your body’s shape, however with the warm embrace of Harry’s love you had come to learn to love yourself too. Tonight was a tribute to how much you’d fallen in love with your body.

“Yeah. I mean, I wish my fiancè looked at me like that.” Bella sighed. “Did Harry fall in love with you more after he married you?”

“I can’t speak for him but…” You started.

“Yeah.” Harry stood behind you and you viewed his outfit through the mirror. He looked absolutely incredible. “I fucking did.”

“Ugh.” Harry Lambert gagged over how romantic the room had just gotten. “You’re disgusting.”

You turned around as Harry walked towards you. You held out a hand for him to hold and you felt the cool of his rings burn your skin before his skin did. You hummed in delight as he interlinked his fingers through yours, tilting your head up to give him access to your lips once more. The strand of hair that dangled over Harry’s forehead had you in a chokehold and you delicately reached up to play with it.

“You look so pretty.” You smiled up at him, him smiling down at you.

Neither of you had started on the drinks yet, but the way that Harry’s eyes were glossed over slightly could have fooled anyone into thinking he was drunk. Turns out that’s just what Harry’s eyes do when he looks at the people he loves.

“Alright, before you two start mauling each other’s faces off, I want photos.” Harry Lambert ordered, pushing Harry’s shoulder lightly to get him to snap out of his focused daze on you.

Harry moved around you so that he was standing slightly behind you. His arm firmly wrapped around your waist and your hand rested over his hand that laid there. Your head slightly tilted into Harry’s chest, whilst Harry’s rested on top of yours. You knew these photos would become Harry’s newest home screen, because he always wanted the most up-to-date photo of you both to admire.

You swapped between a few poses, before Harry Lambert was satisfied and left everyone to do their final checks before leaving.

You pulled Harry back in front of the mirror and pulled out your phone to take a few photos with him, both his arms slinking over your shoulders and leaning his head down to be closer to yours. The photos were sickeningly cute. Only you could convince Harry to take a mirror selfie.

Harry kissed your cheek before saying, “Right. I’m going to go meet the driver and then we are ready to head out, yes?”

“Yes.”

••••

On the red carpet you and Harry stood separately, because Jeff wanted Harry to get some solo photos.

You had been taking photos together for a little while, posing next to each other and sending the media into a frenzy when Harry kissed you.

It wasn’t your first red carpet appearance together, but you and Harry did enjoy keeping your relationship as closed off to the public as possible. It was a little hard, since you were both A-list celebrities, but you made it work in the best way possible for you.

You and Harry had met each other through Tyler, Harry’s producer. You had written a few songs with Tyler before and had suggested that a song you’d written, called ‘Music For A Sushi Restaurant’, might be something that Harry would like. You’d seen him around and thought he was the kind of guy to enjoy a funky song like ‘Sushi’. You never actually expected him to feature the song on his album, let alone ask you out for a drink to talk more about songwriting together.

Harry’s House was a project close to Harry’s heart, not only because it was an album filled with such raw and emotional songs but also because you had written all of the songs with him. He had fallen in love with your style of writing so much that he didn’t want to feature a single song on his album that didn’t include you.

Thanks to Harry, Harry’s House and the hard work you both put in to writing the songs, you had both been nominated and won a Brit Award for ‘Songwriter of the Year’. You never thought you’d even be a recognised name in the music industry, let alone winning Brit Awards, and it was all thanks to Harry.

Over the course of writing Harry’s House you had taken a strong liking towards one another, until one day Harry had solidified his attraction towards you when he kissed you in the middle of writing ‘Grapejuice’ with each other.

The rest was history.

So, when you were stopped on the red carpet and asked to come a little further down to the presentation carpet you furrowed your eyebrows in compliance. You followed the usher down the carpet, hearing Harry ask Jeff, behind you, where you were going.

You stood on the presentation carpet, next to a life-size Brit award waiting for what came next. Roman Kemp came on the carpet next with a microphone.

“Oh no.. I was promised no interviews!” You blushed, covering your mouth with your hand to hide the embarrassment. You were very shy when it came to public media interaction and found that as a result you were socially awkward.

You looked around to try and spot Harry, finally noticing him behind the camera’s smiling at you. He was stood with his hands behind his back and leaning his weight onto one leg, looking like the Gucci model he always is.

“Don’t worry. No interviews.” Roman clarified, calming your nerves instantly. “We are actually here with you, Y/N, because you have won ‘Songwriter of the Year’, correct?”

“I believe so, although I still can’t comprehend why!” You laughed, blushing even harder because you weren’t sure whether that was something to even laugh over. You looked to Harry instantly and saw that he was shaking his head in disbelief that you’d just said that about yourself.

“Well, I am here to present you your award. Congratulations Y/N on winning ‘Songwriter of the Year’!” Roman cheered and then the surrounding media, camera crew and Harry’s team all cheered too. Harry whistled using his fingers in his mouth, making you drop your head in embarrassment over the attention.

Roman handed you the award and you took it graciously, thanking him kindly. You looked towards Harry, again, and watched him continue to whistle for you. You laughed and put your hand over your heart, thanking everyone you could, which was a habit that you’d picked up from Harry.

You hugged Roman briefly and then moved over towards Harry. His arms awaited for you as you happily ran over. He bent down slightly to pick you up by your lower waist, before lifting you up off the floor and swaying you from left to right. One of your arms wrapped around the back of his neck whilst the other stayed to the side holding your Brit. You giggled into his neck as he left a few dozen kisses on yours.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, y’know?” He said, kissing over your skin once more with a little more bite.

“I know.” You whispered just below his ear, kissing his tiny ear lobe then making him chuckle.

“And I really do love you.”

“I really do love you too.”

••••

The venue inside was magical.

The iconic tables were all set out and the audience were already sitting high in their seats. No doubt the fans were already recording videos of you and Harry walking to your table. Harry had invited so many people to the Brits tonight they had two tables reserved for him.

On one table was his band and other people from his record label, whilst the other was reserved for family, his management and you. Of course he was sitting on the table with you.

He held your hand tight as you weaved through the tables, turning around every so often to make sure you were alright still. At one point you spotted Jessie J and tugged on Harry’s hand to catch his attention. He raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.

“Jessie’s over there. I want to congratulate her on her pregnancy.” You said, tugging his hand again for him to follow you. Harry was quick to walk behind you and follow you without stepping on your dress.

“Are we sure she’s pregnant?” Harry asked. “The last time I assumed a woman was pregnant it did not go down well.”

“Yeah, I’m still not over that by the way...” You stopped short to pinch his nipple over his silk shirt. Little did you know that that one action from you would cause global fan casualties and trends on Twitter later on.

“Well, if you let me actually make you pregnant, baby, it’ll go down better when I ask.” He smirked, enjoying the feeling of you pressing up against him as you stopped. Your ass was pressed back against him and he moved in even closer to get a better feel.

“That comment just cost you drunk after-party sex.” You faked a small smile, before walking forwards a bit more, leaving Harry behind to feel sorry for himself.

You reached Jessie and congratulated her on her pregnancy, having a laugh with her. It had been a while since you’d seen each other and you both agreed you would have to start writing with each other again soon. Jessie told you to get Harry over to see her at some point in order to congratulate him on his opening performance.

Once you made it back to your table, Harry was busy talking to Rob Stringer and you assumed he wouldn’t notice you after your minor argument. You were wrong, however. Harry stood out of his chair and pulled yours back for you, all whilst keeping his conversation with Rob going. You thanked him kindly as he pushed your chair under the table for you and sat back down himself. His hand went straight to rest on the back of your chair behind you and he crossed his legs over, pointing his body towards yours. This was a silent tell to you that he was working up an apology.

Before you could start up a conversation with anyone, Harry pulled your chair closer to him which made you gasp at the sudden movement.

“What are you-”

“I’m sorry.” Harry said, kissing your cheek afterwards. “I won’t ever ask if you, or any other woman, is pregnant again. I’ll wait for you, and them, to tell me first.”

“Thank you.” You nodded and leant in to kiss him. He eagerly complied and gave you slightly more than just a peck, but enough to keep it P.G. in front of his team, family and thousands of fans. “It’s still a maybe to the sex, though.”

“I’ve got time to change it to a yes.” He smirked, before kissing your forehead and settling down as the lights went down in the arena.

The screams increased and Salma walked on the stage to present the first award. You rested your head on Harry’s shoulders, leaning into him for some extra comfort. He was happy to let you lean on him, not caring if his suit was now stained a little with makeup from your cheek.

“And the winner of Best Pop Vocal/R&B act is…” Salma paused to create tension.

“It’s gotta be you.” You whispered to him and Harry nudged you gently with his shoulder, because if there was one thing he wasn’t capable of it was taking a compliment - like most British people in fact.

“The one and only..” Salma continued, making you sit up straight and look at Harry who was trying to hide his smirk. “Harry Styles.”

“Yes!” You screamed, throwing your arms around him. He was laughing into your neck as he tugged you back tightly. You knew you couldn’t hold him for long, but when you pulled away - because Harry never pulled away from your hugs first - he kissed your cheek generously. You continued to smile as he hugged Rob and then Gemma as he walked past her.

You continued standing as he reached the podium to give his awards speech, cupping your hands over your mouth to try and hide your very obvious grin. You tried not to vigorously scream when you noticed the single strand of hair dangle over his forehead, but it was very difficult considering he looked so hot.

“Uh…” He started by saying, holding his Brit in the air graciously. “Thank you so so much for this, uh. First of all..” He turned to his fans in the seats behind him, “Thank you. Um, first of all I know this was a fan voted award, so to all my fans who voted thank you so so much.” You mentally patted yourself on the back. “It’s, uh, I have so many wonderful memories at the Brits. Thank you for another one. It is so good to be home, thank you so so much.”

You cheered and screamed like everyone else around you as he continued to thank everyone. Gemma leaned over to you, already slightly tipsy on the prosecco. “Wonder whether by ‘home’ he meant you?”

You had spent so much time away from Harry, whilst both of you were so focused on various other projects, that it had been so long since you’d seen each other. Now you were back with each other, Gemma was right, it felt like home.

As Harry made his way back to the table he had stopped off to get some shots. He had bought five and managed to spill none on his way over to his seat. He bent over next to you when he had made it back, kissing the side of your head before placing the shots on the table.

“One for you,” He said, handing it off to Jeff. “You,” to Rob, “Gem,” he passed one over to his sister, “And finally you.” He placed it in front of you.

“What’s this for?” You laughed, knowing Harry knew you hated doing shots.

“You’re taking this shot for me, okay?” He ordered, sitting back down in his chair.

“But.. What even is it?” You scoffed.

“Tequila.” Everyone groaned when he said that.

“Oh shut up, the lot of you.” He pulled a face, holding his shot up ready to cheer.

You all cheered each other's shot glasses, tapped them down on the table before knocking them back. Harry didn’t make a face after his, but you ended up coughing. It was so horrible. Harry already had a chaser in his hand ready for you and it made your heart warm that he knew you so well - or your heart could’ve just been warm from the tequila.

“Y’okay?” He laughed, just asking you. You nodded with a sour face. You had a feeling tonight was going to be a heavy one.

••••

Harry had won two more awards and had progressively got more drunk, which only meant that he had gotten more flirty and handsy with you.

He had just kissed Lewis Capaldi and made his way back over to your table after winning ‘Song of the Year’.

You were slightly drunk yourself from having a few too many drinks with Harry - especially with the tequila shots. Your eyes were slightly drowsy as Jeff talked to you.

“What are you and Harry doing tomorrow?” He asked.

“Um, breakfast at that pub we like, then I think he said he’s got meetings with you all afternoon about tour.” Your words slightly slurred together as you tried really hard to concentrate on the words you wanted to use.

“Ah, fuck the meetings. Have him to yourself tomorrow.” Jeff waffed his hand like it was no big deal.

“Oi, you two better be talking about me here.” Harry came up behind you and slunk an arm over your shoulders, kissing your head for good measure.

Harry made you sit back down and handed you a glass of water that he’d picked up along his way back to you.

“Y’feeling okay? A little tipsy, hm?” Harry asked, sitting down next to you and bringing you in closer to kiss your forehead a few times.

“I’m okay.” You said, but it sounded like it was all one word.

“Drink this, alright? For me?” Harry asked, holding the glass of water up to your lips. You took little sips, until you took too much and it started to dribble out of your mouth. Harry stopped and used his thumb to wipe up the wet mess, smiling at you for being so chaotic when drunk.

“You cheated on me.” You pouted after he’d cleaned you up.

“What?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yeah. Y-You cheated on me with Lewis.” You hiccuped out.

“Ohh. To be fair though, you cheated on me with Rina.” Harry raised his eyebrows, smirking at you like two could play your game.

You hummed in delight and smiled when you thought about Rina, who was yours and Harry’s best friend. You’d spent copious amounts of time with her in Japan back in 2018 and you’d all quickly become really good friends.

“Guess we’re both cheaters.” You said, your eyes heavy under the influence.

“Don’t say that. Don’t like it when you say things like that. Kissing you is different to kissing anyone else. With Lewis, or-or with Nick, it’s different. Like they’re m’bestfriends and it’s just a friendly kiss. With you, though..” Harry stopped to hum and smile, “With you the whole world stops a-and m’heart feels like it’s never going to get enough. ‘Cause I love you in a way I never have, and never will, love anybody else.”

Your eyes teared up over listening to him and you leaned forwards, but stopped yourself short when a few tears started to fall. “Fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, wiping your tears away. “Dude, that was too much.” You groaned, trying to blink back any more tears.

“Hey, look at me.” Harry asked and you tilted your head to the side.

“Don’t you dare say anything more romantic. I’m not emotionally stable enough.” You chuckled.

“No. I was just going to say that I love you so much.”

You leant forwards and captured your lips with his, pressing yourself into him to give him a little more than a quick kiss. You pressed your lips deeper onto his, but pulled away before he could really get into it. Because once Harry got into it, especially when he was tipsy, there was absolutely no stopping him.

“I love you.” He repeated himself, looking hazily between your eyes and your lips with a half pout.

“I love you too.” You smiled and kissed him once more.

Then Stanley Tucci made it to the stage to present the award for ‘Album of the Year’. You and Harry settled back down, only after Harry reminded you to drink more of your water. You rolled your eyes, but listened to him nevertheless.

“And the winner for ‘Album of the Year is..” Stanley paused as he opened the card.

“Harry, Harry, Harry.” You repeatedly whispered under your breath, earning a laugh from Jeff.

“Harry Styles!” He called out and Harry went crazy, screaming and bashing the table in excitement. You rocketed onto your feet and cheered for him with every vocal chord you could strain. Gemma screamed with him and he hugged her first, making you awe at the moment. He was quick to turn around to you and pull you in for a bone crushing hug too, kissing your neck a few times.

“Have I changed it to a yes, now?” He spoke next to your ear above the deafening screams. Of course this man was thinking about his post-show shag rather than the actual award he’d just won. You laughed as he pulled back.

“Who wouldn’t want to sleep with a 4-time Brit winner?” You said and it made him smirk really hard, licking his lips quickly before he was ushered to walk to the stage. You continued to clap and scream as he walked up onto the stage, never wanting this moment to end. Harry’s time at the Grammy’s had been a lot more tense and sophisticated than this, so it was nice for him to let loose once in a while.

“Fuck.” He said away from the microphone, but it was still picked up. “Wow.” He recovered from his slip up on live television. “There’s literally no one in this world I love more than Stanley Tucci, so this means so much.” He giggled.

“Rude.” You said under your breath, but Gemma and Jeff laughed making you think you’d said that a little too loudly.

You stood tall and proud as you watched Harry um and awe over his award briefly, perhaps because he was drunk but more so because he’d won ‘Album of the Year’ at both the Grammy’s and the Brits in the same year. That must be some sort of record.

It was his final speech that made the tears restart and your heart fall in love all over again.

“This, uh, night has been really really special to me and I will never forget it. Thank you so much for the welcome home. I appreciate it so much. There is no place like home. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. So proud to be a British artist and so proud to be here tonight celebrating British artists and British music. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh and I should probably mention that none of this would have been possible without my best friend and collaborator, Y/N. This is as much your award as it is mine. Honestly, I have never worked with someone more dedicated to their craft than Y/N. Y/N, you inspire me to be a better person every day and I’m so happy, and grateful, to be doing this with you. I love you. Thank you.”

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yeonjuns-beanie · 9 months

Text

Licentious Affairs

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

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

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

possessed!Dalton Lambert x female reader

word count: 4.4k

pt.2

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

van gogh: r u out of class yet

y/n: walking to the dorm rn

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

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

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

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

“Hey. Didn’t hear you come in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna…go back again?”

“I think it’s my only option y/n.”

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

“Okay. When are we doing this?”

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

“Tonight.”

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

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

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

“Your phone.”

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

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

“Thanks. I won’t be too long.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Dalton…Dalton.”

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

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

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

Silence. Crippling silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust.

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

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

“Dalton…I know you’re in there. Dal-”

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

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

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

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

“No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Suck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep telling yourself th~aht.”

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

“Say hi to him for me.”

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

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

“Y/n…? Y/n, talk to me.”

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

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

“What did I do to you?”

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