#chris in luck of the the draw

[starishsky]

heatwave

[dollfacefantasy]

Room for One More

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: months ago, chris let his apprentice slip through his fingers when she transferred to the d.s.o. to work with leon kennedy. now the three of them have been sent on a mission together and are forced to share a hotel room.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, threesome, p in v, oral sex (f and m recieving), face-sitting, exhibitionism, age gap (early 20s, late 30s), jealousy, light angst

word count: 9.2k

a/n: had this in my drafts since february let's go. hope you guys like it <3

You and Leon were so fucking annoying.

Irritating, aggravating, infuriating pains in his ass. That’s all Chris could think while speeding down the road, his knuckles white from their tight grip on the steering wheel. The three of you were all supposed to be professionals for god’s sake. He shouldn’t have to deal with the two of you acting no better than a couple of horny teenagers during a fucking mission.

It was constant. The giggling and gasping, soft whines of “Leon stoppppp.” And he could hear Leon’s stupid fucking smirk when he chuckled and kept doing whatever was causing you to squirm around with him in the back seat. If he had to sit through much more of this, he was pretty sure he’d end up plowing the car into a nearby tree and putting himself out of his misery.

Chris glanced in the rearview mirror. Darkness engulfed the car right now, making it hard to clearly see what his ‘partners’ were up to. All he could really make out was that Leon’s head had been in the crook of your neck but was now tilted upwards to capture you in a kiss. The only thing keeping him sane was the miniscule light in the distance. The small reminder that he wouldn’t be stuck in the car with the sounds of saliva swapping forever. He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, trying to will himself to just tune the aggravation out. But as the minutes pass by, each wet smack of lips grates on his nerves more and more.

“Can you two cut it out back there? I’m trying to focus,” he says. His harsh stare remains on the road ahead.

He hears your bodies briefly untangling as his words pierce the bubble you had created for yourselves. Leon is the first to respond.

“Our mistake, Redfield. Didn’t know it was such a challenge to go twenty-five miles an hour on an empty road,” he remarks. Again, Chris’s blood boils as he senses that self-satisfied expression taking over the other man’s features.

Your light slap to Leon’s bicep sounds through the car’s interior. “Sorry, Chris. We’ll keep it down,” you apologize.

In contrast to your boyfriend, your tone rings genuine. You sounded almost a little embarrassed by Chris calling out your antics. Your soft voice drifting to his ears actually softens him a tad. He knew the expression you wore now too. How your eyes were fixed on the DSO agent, giving him the glare you used when you wanted to seem firm. In reality, it came off as cute, like an angry kitten. And now Leon got to be the one to grin at you and shake his head, amused by your sweet face. He got to be in the position Chris let slip through his fingers months ago.

***

You’d been his first. Started out at the BSAA as his rookie. Your first day you’d been so bright-eyed, hopeful and ready to start out your career and face the world. He’d been reluctant to take on a trainee at first. It’s a lot of work with a 50/50 shot at reward, but the second he laid eyes on you, he knew the luck of the draw had worked in his favor.

You were the ideal apprentice. A great listener, eager to learn everything you could, and accepting of commands. Every day with you was a breeze. And besides the parts of you suited for your job, you were just generally pleasant to be around. He could joke with you, talk to you about damn near any subject. You were a great partner in the field too. At first, he’d been worried. A cute little thing like you taking on bioterrorists? He struggled to believe that would work out. As soon as he saw you in action though, you left no doubt that he’d been wrong. He became more taken with you upon seeing you act so capable. He realized that he felt a connection with you that he’d been lacking for so much of his life.

Unfortunately for him, he had these pesky things called ‘morals’ that prevented him from pursuing you. Every time he legitimately considered flirting or asking you out, the guilt gnawed at him, filling his mind with words of shame rather than anything that could charm you. No matter how he thought about it, he just couldn’t work out any way it would be right. Not only were you his subordinate, his rookie, you were nearly twenty years his junior too. You shouldn’t be wasting the prime of your life with some old man, so he cut off any hope of being more than a mentor to you.

About a year after he’d taken you on, the two of you were sent on that mission in Texas. It was simple, standard, routine. You and Chris were simply there to assist local police with the aftermath of a bioterror attack. Both of you were in the transport vehicle on the way to the site, and this was a rare occasion where he was pretty calm. He wasn’t tense or anxious, didn’t have any other motive than getting in and getting out. He was just enjoying the ride and watching your pretty face soak up the sunlight beaming through the window.

What he hadn’t been briefed on was the DSO’s involvement in the case. More specifically, a certain DSO agent’s presence. Apparently he’d been in the area on unrelated business and had been ordered to stop by in case your team needed assistance.

The two of you got out of the car and wandered through the remnants of the event. At first, Chris was happy to see him. It’d been a while, and he seemed to be in a better place than the last time they’d met. You seemed happy to see him too despite the fact that you’d never met before. Right then, Chris should’ve known it was over.

“Who’s that?” you asked with more interest than he felt was appropriate, leaning closer his muscular frame to keep your tone hushed.

He glanced down at you and raised his eyebrows, initially amused with the way you almost seemed in awe.

“Leon Kennedy. He’s with the DSO. Probably just here for some backup,” he informed you.

You nodded, and as you padded along behind Chris, your eyes remained locked on the agent in front of you. If he hadn’t been wrapped around your finger, it would have been obvious to him that you were developing a little crush. You became so bashful around Leon. Smiling up at him, batting your eyelashes like a cartoon character, following him around the scene like a puppy.

At the time, Chris thought that you were simply intrigued by the prestige of the DSO. Looking back, he couldn’t believe how clueless he’d been.

It was only six weeks later that you came to his office to notify him you were transferring agencies.

“What do you mean transferring? I’ve been training you to work here. I need you here,” Chris said.

Your eyes had cast down. Your body appeared to shrink in on itself. “I know. The BSAA is important and all, and I’ll always be grateful for what I learned here. It’s just that Leon said…”

And those last two words were all Chris heard.

“Leon said? What’s he know? He met you one time. He’s gonna try and tell you that you’re a better fit for the DSO?” he asked, probably coming off more interrogating than concerned, “You’re perfect for what we do here. The Agency hasn’t had someone with your propensity for research and field work in years.”

All his reasons paled in comparison to the hearts you had in your eyes for Leon. Chris ended the day by signing off on your transfer and watching you pack up your desk. You gave him a hug and tearful words of goodbye before walking out the translucent doors of the BSAA building.

The next time he saw you was another two months after that. He had to bring some files over to the DSO building. The only thing he was looking forward to about it was seeing how his rookie was adapting to her new position. He wasn’t prepared for the sharp pain in his chest when he saw your new position was on Leon’s lap.

Your eyes had gone wide. You shot up off the other man’s thighs to try and act as if you two were merely two agents and nothing more. Chris wasn’t fooled, but he kept his composure even in the face of Leon’s obvious amusement. He had no real place to get mad at you. It’s not like you were throwing your career away; you still held a respectable position at a federal government agency. You hadn’t betrayed him either. The relationship between you and him had actually just been professional. He had no claim on you that could keep Leon away. The only thing Chris had to be angry about was the fact that you were going to spend the prime of your life with some guy over a decade older than you. It just wasn’t gonna be him.

***

The collection of lights down the road were getting closer now. You and Leon had settled down enough to make the last fifteen minutes of this trip bearable. Chris glances around the small, misty town the road was leading into. It was pretty desolate and old-fashioned. Everything was tinted orange from the dated street lamps lining the road. Buildings were mostly bricks except for the upcoming motel which looked primarily wooden. It would’ve been eerie if he wasn’t so exhausted.

He pulled into the parking lot of the place and stopped the car. Turning around in his seat to talk to you and Leon, he tries not to roll his eyes at how the younger man has you tucked to his side while you show him something on your phone.

Chris clears his throat. Leon’s eyes meet his, still smug from the earlier exchange. He can’t be mad though because you look up at him in earnest, ready to do what needs to be done.

“The target isn’t going to be passing through until tomorrow. How would the two of you feel about staying here for the night?” he asks.

Fortunately, you and Leon seem to want to rest for a while just as much as he does so there’s no pushback.

Chris steps out of the car into the brisk air. He heads across the way into the small lobby of the motel to grab a room. You and your boyfriend handle getting the small bags you were allowed to take on missions out of the car.

“Cold out here, baby,” Leon mumbles as he pulls you flush against his chest and plants some kisses down your neck.

“Mhm. And you’re making me shiver more,” you say as you still try to collect the bags.

He chuckles at your little joke and nips at the warm flesh of your throat. “Once we get in the room, I think I’ll be able to heat you up,” he says.

You giggle and squirm a bit in his hold as Chris comes back to the car. He’s stone faced, but for once on this trip, it isn’t due to you and Leon.

“They only have one room available,” he says flatly and holds up the small golden key.

Your face drops and Leon lets go of you.

“What do you mean they only have one room?” he asks, “Look at this place. It doesn’t even look like anyone’s even accidentally wandered through here in this century. How could they only have one room?”

“They said the others are closed for renovation,” Chris relays.

“Renovation for what? For the ghosts of people who stayed here the last time this place was actually full?” Leon continues.

“I don’t know, man. You wanna go in there and argue with the lady at the desk? She’s half deaf and in a great mood, I’m sure she’ll be open to hearing your concerns,” the older man says sarcastically, beginning to grow frustrated.

Their bickering continues as you glance around at your surroundings. It was cold, it was dark, and it really was starting to creep you out how empty this place was.

You carefully take Leon’s hand and give it a little tug.

“I’m really tired. Can we just deal with it for the night?” you ask him hopefully.

He looks over at you, the petty complaints seeping from his body when he hears your soft voice requesting something so simple.

He sighs and nods. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he says and kisses your forehead.

Chris is grateful for your intervention and scoops up the bags so you aren’t bothered with them. The three of you walk in line to your room.

The door creaks as your ex-mentor pushes it open. It’s pitch black inside until Leon reaches over and taps the light switch. Your eyes scan the small room. It wasn’t a horrible set up. The furniture was a little vintage to put it nicely, but it didn’t feel haunted. Two double beds sat against one wall while a ratty leather chair occupied the opposite corner. Besides that there was a dresser, an old tv that was shaped like a cube, and a small counter with a microwave and mini-fridge. Leon looks around with the same disinterest displayed on your face.

“Hey, at least there isn’t only one bed,” he jokes and slaps Chris’s shoulder.

The older man rolls his eyes and tosses his duffel onto the mattress closest to the door. You and your boyfriend follow suit. You tuck your bag neatly against the side of the dresser while he drops it on the floor next to the farther bed.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Chris tells the both of you as he fishes some fresh clothes and toiletries out of his bag.

He gets two unconcerned nods in response, and that’s enough for him to head to the bathroom. As he’s shutting the door, he can already hear your giggling starting up again along with the creak of the mattress, presumably from Leon pulling you down onto it.

Turning on the water, he sighs deeply. The faucet was as old as everything else in the room. It whooshed and groaned before starting up and letting out some water. The stream was hot and even, so he guessed he couldn't complain too much. He sheds his clothes and steps in the shower that was too small for him. The confined area didn’t act as much as a reprieve for him. His head is about three or four inches too tall for where the showerhead was angled. The slick curtain clings to the part of his bicep that stuck out against it.

It felt like a physical manifestation of how the next twelve hours would feel.

Being in the room next to you and Leon would’ve been bad enough. He’d have to hear you two going at it for hours like there was no tomorrow, but at least he’d be alone. He wouldn’t have to repress his grimaces or hide his wistful exhales. No one would have to know how shameful he looked when he felt himself getting hard over the way you whined and mewled for the other agent.

Now you two wouldn’t be going at it, but he’d have to be in the room clouded by both of your desires to do it. He’d have to watch the lingering looks and hear the little hitches in your breaths. He’d see whatever cute little pajamas wore and the way you curled up to Leon beneath the covers. He’d witness how peaceful your face looked while you slept in another man’s arms.

He’d honestly just prefer to be forced to listen to the sounds of your headboard banging against the wall all night.

But he pushes those thoughts away to finish up washing himself. His large hands guide the shampoo out of his hair and glide the washcloth over his muscular form. The steam starting to rise helps to calm him a little.

He isn’t in there for much longer before he shuts the water off and steps out of the shower to dry off. He wraps a towel around his waist, letting the cloth hang on hips just below his happy trail and v-line. His reflection gazes back at him through the fog on the mirror as he rubs a towel over his head and dries his hair.

In an effort to be considerate, he dresses in the bathroom. Gray sweats cover his lower half while a loose t-shirt adorns his chest. He makes sure everything in the bathroom is back in place before heading back out there, hopefully to just get some sleep and not be bothered by his temporary roommates.

That isn’t meant to be though. As soon as he steps back into the main portion of the room, he’s greeted by the sight of Leon’s hand down your shorts and your lips locked together in a flurry of kisses. He’s frozen in place for a moment, watching how Leon’s knuckles move underneath the fabric between your legs. Though a moment later, he remembers how he should be reacting.

“Come the fuck on,” he says and brings his hand to his face in frustration.

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps up. Leon lazily glances in his direction. Chris looks back at the pair of you, thinking you’d had enough time to readjust. What really enrages him now is that Leon’s hand was still where it was. You have to grab his wrist and pull it away.

“I’m so sorry, Chris,” you apologize without another thought, “We got distracted and didn’t hear the water shut off. I’m so-”

He doesn’t even look at you though. He’s locked in a stare with the other man in the room.

“Grow the fuck up, Leon,” he says, his tone deadly serious, “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re acting like a fucking high schooler. Like a dog with a bone.”

You go silent and look down with guilt. He would’ve felt bad if he wasn’t so fed up. To make matters worse, Leon merely rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, calm down,” he says, “You’re acting like you just walked in on a porno or something. You’ve never seen two people making out?”

“Leon, shut up,” you say, keeping your voice hushed as if Chris couldn’t hear you from a small distance of ten feet. Your boyfriend doesn’t even acknowledge you though.

“That’s not what it’s about, and you know that. I don’t give a shit if the two of you want to make out till your lips are blue. Do it on your own time. I don’t wanna have to deal with the two of you slobbering all over each other while I’m trying to do my job,” he says with a glare.

“That’s not what this is about either, and you know it,” the younger man retorts.

“Leon, just give it up!” you plead. He shoots you a look though that makes you react like a scolded puppy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris asks incredulously as he crosses his arms.

Your boyfriend almost laughs in his face. He sits up, looking at him with a more pointed gaze. “You don’t care about what I’m doing. You’re pissed off because I’m doing it with her,” he taunts.

Somehow the look on Chris’s face darkens further.

“Alright, man. I’m sure that’s what it is. It’s not you just being an insecure dickhead like always,” he says, trying to sound dismissive as he walks to his own bed, “You're more immature than I thought.”

“Don’t try to act like it’s bullshit because I know it’s the truth. All the years I’ve known you, all the missions we’ve partnered on; this isn’t the first time you’ve seen me with a girl but you’ve never pitched a fit about it before,” Leon says.

Chris shakes his head, not dignifying the accusations with a response, but he won’t give it up.

“Also, you think I’m fucking stupid? You think I don’t see the way you’re looking at her? Undressing her with your eyes, laser focused every time she bends over? I think if she gave you the go ahead, you wouldn’t even hesitate to steal her away from me,” he says.

You notice as they argue that in contrast to the genuine aggravation on Chris’s face, Leon’s words come from somewhere else. Almost as if he’s enjoying calling him a liar, poking and prodding at the other man to provoke a reaction.

Chris looks directly at him now as if he’s ready to lunge in a moment’s notice.

“Shut your mouth. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

“Tell me then. Tell me how it is.”

That makes the older man pause. Of course Leon was right, but under no circumstances would he make that apparent.

“She had a bright future ahead of her, and look what you’ve done. She’s the best either one of the agencies has had in years, and you keep her in the palm of your hand like she’s a barbie doll!” he exclaims.

He sees the flicker of hurt on your face and knows he fucked up, but he could apologize later. He continues speaking to try and temporarily rectify his slip up.

“She’s too good for you, Leon,” he says simply, sighing and sitting down on his bed.

You see genuine emotion flash in your boyfriend's eyes. Chris struck a chord, picking at a very real insecurity Leon held. But he wanted to win this confrontation too, so he wouldn’t let that be known. Instead, he beckons you to him with a languid wave of his hand.

“C’mere, baby.”

Chris rolls his eyes, thinking Leon was gonna swoop in to comfort you for the way your feelings had been hurt. You waddle across the mattress on your knees and plop down between his legs, your back against his chest. His hands sweep over your stomach, soothingly caressing your skin.

“She might be too good for me, but you’re pissed off because she’s too good for you too,” he says.

“Leon, stop,” you whisper. Tomorrow was going to be awkward enough as is. He didn’t need to make it any worse.

Chris glances up at the two of you but looks down again quickly, not wanting to see the way the other man’s hands moved on your body.

“You think I’m the bad guy. That I’m corrupting your innocent little rookie,” Leon mocks, “But tell me you wouldn’t take my place if you could.”

“I wouldn’t,” he mumbles instantaneously.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me. Tell me that if she was actually interested in you, that you wouldn’t have taken her in your arms as fast as you could. When she was prancing around the BSAA, looking up at you with stars in her eyes, tell me you didn’t want her,” your boyfriend challenges.

Chris looks up at the both of you. His expression is hard to read. It’s some mixture of hurt and relief that you’re unfamiliar with.

“I didn’t,” he maintains.

Leon’s hand continues trailing on your tummy up and down. His fingers coast in between your breasts, causing you to shiver, but everyone’s so wrapped up in the conflict that you choose not to say anything.

“That’s a shame because I’m pretty sure your little rookie had a crush on you,” he says quietly.

“Don’t joke around like that Leon,” Chris scoffs at the same time as your eyes widen and you start to tell your boyfriend to be quiet.

“Shh shh shh,” he hushes you and places a small kiss on your temple, “You’re giving yourself away, sweetheart.”

You look down and the man across from you just looks confused. Leon smirks at the both of you before resuming.

“C’mon man. Don’t tell me you couldn’t see it. She’s a terrible liar, and I think she had it pretty bad for you. I just came along and pulled her attention elsewhere,” he says, teasing you while redirecting his words to Chris.

Your face was heating up fast as Leon aired out a confession you’d made to him on a night after too many drinks. Chris slowly returned his gaze back to the two of you. Instead of bothering with Leon, he looked into your eyes this time.

“Is that true?” he asks.

Every limb on your body feels frozen up, but you manage to force your head into nodding. You hear Leon chuckle from behind you, which only intensifies how awkward you feel.

“I liked you at first when I first started working at the BSAA. For the first few months,” you begin to explain. It’s not like anything you said would help the situation at all, but it still felt like you were supposed to offer something.

He continues staring at you, and you honestly can’t tell what’s running through his mind. All you can think is that he looks like he’s in pain. Meanwhile, your boyfriend’s hands caress over your skin in a pattern they’d developed.

“You were just so nice and understanding with me-” you start. But you’re cut off by your sharp gasp when Leon’s hand slides under the waistband of your bottoms and into your panties.

“Leon!” you whimper as fast as his fingers find your clit. You grab his wrist and try to pull it away like you’d done earlier, but when he didn’t want to be interrupted, he wouldn’t be. It wasn’t like you tried too hard anyways. You were still a little pent up from earlier, craving the pleasure that had been cut short.

“No, go on, sweetheart. Keep telling Chris how much you liked him. I know he wants to hear it,” he says lowly while his fingers toy with you.

“Leon,” Chris says firmly, trying to stand up for you. But fuck, if he didn’t want to keep watching your breath hitch and your hips squirm. Or your face getting pouty whenever his fingers stroked a certain way.

“Chris,” he says back, “Don’t act like you don’t wanna see. This might be your only chance.”

He smirks and kisses your temple again, rotating the pad of his middle finger over your clit. The motions draw little whines from you, and your eyes flutter. You keep them on Chris, looking into his own as you sink back into Leon’s chest.

“Go ahead, honey. Continue your story,” Leon prompts.

“You were so sweet- mm- and you taught me a lot and- ah- I don’t know it was just a little crush,” you say timidly.

Chris watches you. He doesn’t move at all for fear of bringing attention to how fast his cock has hardened.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he breathes.

“Cause you were my boss,” you say, “I- Leon fuck- I didn’t wanna put you in a bad position.”

His chest feels like it’s turned to stone as he takes in these revelations. It’s hard not to let the regret take over. The realization that he’d been much closer to everything he’d wanted threatened to consume him if he dwelled on it. That on top of the fact that he was hearing all this while you whimpered another man’s name between your words had his mind scrambled.

“It wouldn’t have put me in a bad position, sweetheart,” he says, attempting to sound normal about the situation.

Your lips curve further down, as if you feel guilty for the mess of emotions building inside him. Behind you, Leon’s mouth makes the opposite expression.

“What happened to not wanting her, Redfield?” he teases.

“Shut up,” Chris says. Even if he wasn’t the one pleasuring you, this was a moment for you and him.

His eyes are locked on you, trying to drink in everything about the vision of beauty in front of him. Leon’s warning that this could be the only time he gets to see it echoes in his mind. He doesn’t know how he’ll survive if this is the only time. He doesn’t think he could ever get enough of this. The way your lashes flutter and your eyes look dreamy. How your soft thighs tremble while spread open. The little movements of your hips rocking your ass back and forth against the man behind you.

Why couldn’t that man be him?

It was the most blissful form of torture he’d experienced. He tried to tell himself that even if he just got to watch you cum, it’d be worth it. It’d be better to share this unforgettable sliver of time with you than to have nothing special at all.

He tries to refocus himself back on enjoying the view of your shorts sliding off your legs rather than mourn the relationship he’d lost out on. It was just nearly impossible to avoid envisioning himself and the other man swapped. He had imagined you in his lap like that for months before you even knew the name Leon Kennedy.

Chris’s mind is actually drawn back to the action in front of him once Leon’s got your shorts off, and your panties are fully exposed. The crotch is soaked through. He can see the way the fabric sticks to your center, only peeling away to make space for the nimble fingers working beneath it.

“Leon…” you mewl and tilt your head back against his shoulder.

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, “You’re doing such a good job showing off for Chris. I’m proud of you. You’re really making it worth his while.”

“Thank you,” you whimper.

Leon grins at your display of submission and rewards you with a gentle pinch to your clit. You yelp, and Chris’s cock jerks inside his pants. His bulge is completely visible to everyone in the room by now, no way of sitting could hide that. Despite his arousal, he still had questions.

“Am I the reason you left?” he decides to ask you.

He watches you snap out of the throes of lust and look at him. You hesitate before answering.

“No,” you say softly, “I left to be with Leon.”

It feels like a dagger straight to his heart. He watches any chance of salvaging you as his own die before his very eyes, those words acting as the nails in the coffin. It shows on his face too because he can see the guilt replacing the desire in your eyes. Even Leon’s face flashes with some sympathy. He tilts his head towards you again and nips at the shell of your ear.

“I think you might have hurt Chris’s feelings, baby,” he chides lovingly. His hand then leaves your panties and goes with his other one to your waist. Boosting you to your feet, he looks up at you and taps your ass. “Maybe you should help him feel better. Show him some of what I taught you.”

There’s only a brief pause on your part. You stand between the two beds, between the two men, looking back and forth. You weren’t against the idea at all, it just didn’t seem real. You never imagined this happening in your wildest dreams.

You drop to your knees and approach Chris from the ground, positioning yourself between his legs and looking up at him.

“You don’t have to,” he says, his tone quiet and genuine.

You reach up, sliding your hand up his thigh to palm at his bulge.

“I know,” you respond.

In the simplest of terms, you were still very much attracted to Chris. Your relationship with Leon had extinguished the torch you carried for him down to a small flame, but on a physical and instinctual level, you still wanted him bad. Especially having not cum yet after being teased twice. Your fingers unzip his pants and begin pulling them down, eager to get his cock out.

In a way, you were pretty sure you loved him. Not in the way you love Leon. You knew that. You didn’t dream of love and marriage and the baby carriage with Chris. But for so long, he’d been your safe space. Amongst the violence and horrors in the world of Bioterrorism, your mentor had always been there for you to hold your hand.

You yank his pants down to his ankles, and his dick flops out against his thigh. Your eyes widen slightly. It made sense for it to be big just like everything else on him was, but the sight had you drooling. It was thick and long, from one look you could only imagine how it would stretch you out.

Your fingers wrap around the length, feeling its warmth. The veins that sprawl across it pulse with desire for you. He moans quietly with only one stroke. Your hand pumps up and down tentatively as you spit down onto it for some lubrication.

No one in the room is in the mood to be teased tonight, so you lean in and flick your tongue against the tip. Another groan bubbles from Chris’s lips and you can feel Leon’s lecherous gaze on you the entire time. You lap at the head some more and keep working your fist up and down.

You’re either very talented or Chris is very needy for you, because it only takes a handful of gentle licks before precum beads at the top. His eyes are blown out and locked on you as you suckle the swollen tip between your lips and bob your head. Your mouth is the perfect combination of warm and wet and soft. You cup his balls and give them a gentle massage while working your magic.

He reaches down and pets your head as you work. His head snaps up when he hears the other man speak to him.

“How’s it feel? As good as you imagined?” he asks.

“Better,” Chris moans.

His breaths enter and exit his lungs in deep puffs. This truly was better than he could’ve imagined. Everything about you was beyond the capabilities of human imagination. Your gags were so soft and tender. They were precious despite their inherent lewd nature. You looked up at him with glossy eyes, maintaining eye contact most of the time. That was something he’d taught you. Your first days of work you were always looking down at your shoes or right through him at the wall. He’d been the one to tell you eye contact was important. It was the most baseline form of connection.

You take your mouth off Chris’s shaft with a small pop. A string of saliva dangles between you and his cock, but you quickly destroy it when your lips smoosh against the flushed skin. You kiss the tip over and over, savoring the taste of precum it brings.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, not caring if he heard or not.

But he does, and his gaze softens. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, rookie,” he says back.

Leon decides not to interrupt the exchange or tease Chris about the old nickname for you. He had no genuine ill will toward the other man. That plus his own cock was rising to attention, and he was more interested in palming it through his jeans.

“You're such a good girl. You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Chris continues to coo at you as you take his length back into your mouth.

His eyes crinkle as they shut. He doesn’t want to cum yet just in case there was the chance for anything more. You’re too taken with servicing him to notice that you should maybe slow down. Lucky for the both of you, Leon intervenes.

“Ah ah, baby. Don’t take Chris out of the fun too quick,” he tuts, reaching forward to guide your head back.

You pull off obediently and lean back onto your knees. Chris sighs at the reprieve but nearly blows his load when his eyes refocus on you gazing up at him with spit and precum on your lips.

“I think Chris needs a break, angel. You know how good that mouth of yours is,” he says and pets your head before looking up to the older man, “You want a little taste of her while you cool off?”

It’s like time slows to a halt in the world of Chris Redfield. The heavens part and the words he just heard are the gateway to paradise. He stares at Leon, almost in the same disbelief you had been in minutes ago.

“You’re cool with that?” he says, trying to seem casual.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he says and shrugs, “Plus, I think your rookie deserves a treat for her performance.”

“Of course she does. She’s probably feeling pretty needy by now too,” Chris says in return, beginning to feel more comfortable with the situation at hand.

“I’ll even let you pick, man. You want her spread out on the bed or riding your face?” he asks.

You look between the both of them as they speak before stopping on Chris as he makes the decision.

“Riding my face. Want her to smother me,” the older man says as he looks down at you with his familiar smile.

Leon glances down at you too. “You heard him, baby,” he says.

You return to your feet and approach the bed closer to the window. Chris discards his pants completely and removes his shirt before lying back. He pats his chest, signaling for you to climb up. As you move closer, so does your boyfriend. He rounds the bed and sits on the other side of the mattress to watch the pair of you.

You crawl over Chris’s muscular body, looking down at him for a moment when your faces are level. You then scoot up more so you’re basically sitting on his chest. You weren’t shy about sitting on someone’s face necessarily. You’d done it for Leon about a dozen times before, but Chris was new and you didn’t know how he liked to do it. From the way he guided your hips higher up though, you could already tell he was a little more gentle than your boyfriend.

He pulls you up until your pussy is hovering over his face. Then he takes a few moments to just admire it. It was cute just like every other part of you. One of his fingers drags over your flesh and pulls on the puffy folds, showing off your pretty little clit and slick entrance.

“Don’t hold back for me, rookie. I want to taste all of you,” he says as he looks up at you.

You return his look and nod before he pulls you lower by your hips onto his face. A squeak flies from your lips when his tongue makes contact with your cunt. Leon chuckles as he watches the two of you with lustful eyes. He’s working on undressing himself now.

Chris’s tongue takes a long swipe from the bottom to the top of your pussy, taking in as much of you as he can. Right now you’re all he can smell. Every breath brings him more of you. Your taste overwhelms him too. It’s the way he wants to live. You whine as his lips engulf your clit to suck on.

“Already making such pretty noises,” Leon teases, “Is Chris doing it how you like, sweet girl?”

You nod, your eyes connecting with those of your boyfriend’s for a moment. He kneels on the bed to be closer to you. His hand comes up to stroke your cheek.

“Good. You deserve it, baby. Just look at you. So precious. No wonder he’s crazy about you too,” Leon murmurs as he leans in and kisses you deeply.

His lips move with yours as you moan into his mouth. You begin rocking your hips back and forth on Chris’s face to get more of the stimulation he’s providing you with. His tongue flattens over your cunt and presses against it in stripes, making broad strokes that spark euphoria in your belly each time. His hands lock onto your hips to keep you still enough that you’re not interrupting his devouring of you.

The constant pleasure to your core makes you lightheaded. You would be swaying if not for the two men’s combined efforts to keep you up right. Your kisses become sloppier, and to alleviate it, Leon ducks down to kiss your neck instead. He peppers your skin with hickeys, his possessive nature shining through a bit.

“My pretty girl, doing so good for us right now. Taking it like a pro,” he whispers teasingly as his hands cup your breasts and give them a tender squeeze.

His lips travel down to where his hands are. He plants a few kisses on the swell of your chest. The sight of your nipples perking up for him would never get old.

“Sweet baby, everything about you is perfect. Don’t know how Chris resisted and never got a taste,” he says as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your head falls back and you shudder. Two mouths on you, both licking and sucking in harmony. It made you moan loud enough that you would’ve certainly got a noise complaint if any of the other rooms were occupied.

“Is that for me or Chris, babydoll?” Leon asks and smirks up at you.

“Both,” you whimper, “Both of you are making me feel so good.”

“Not picking favorites, hm?” he goads you further.

“Can’t think enough to pick one right now,” you say simply before another whine leaves you. You didn’t want any more drama. At least not before you came.

“Oh, is your head getting all foggy, baby?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.

On your lower half, Chris keeps his mouth firmly attached to your pussy. He’s pretty sure you already have him addicted, and you haven’t even cum yet. He’s licking with all the dedication in the world as if this task was his life’s purpose, the action he was put on this very earth to complete.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he grunts into you as he continues open mouth kissing your cunt, “Prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Leon smiles at the compliment, almost as if it was partially intended for him by virtue of being your boyfriend.

“She’s loving you, Chris. You’ve got her brain melting out her ears,” Leon purrs while rubbing your back soothingly, steadying you from the tremors that rack your body, “Pretty baby’s probably gonna cum all over your face soon.

When he hears that, the man below you pulls your hips down even harder and locks you onto his mouth. He works even harder to please you, relishing in the way your noises grow louder and more strained.

You give Leon puppy eyes as your hand darts out for his. Your fingers squeeze his palm so tight, he’s sure there will be little red crescents on the skin when you let go.

“What is it, sweetheart? You need to hold my hand?” he croons. He gently squeezes your hand back and moves his face to your neck to press a few more kisses there. “I’ve got you, baby. You cum whenever you want, I’m not gonna let go. Show Chris how pretty you are when you cum.”

Your teeth dig into your lip and your hips quiver violently.

“Fuck Leon- I just- I- Chris,” you stutter out. Your brain rushes to latch onto something, but it can’t seem to get a lock on anything.

“Don’t gotta say anything, angel. Just cum all over my face,” Chris commands from between your thighs.

“You heard him, baby. No thinking. Just let yourself feel good. That’s what we both wanna see,” he whispers and brings your hand to his lips.

Your lips part to say something, but you decide to just listen. You grind your hips down against Chris’s mouth, gasping as the euphoria paramounts within you. Your hips roll even faster as you feel release within your grasp. You’re closing in on it when you shriek and nearly double over with the shattering feeling of your peak.

“There we go, that’s it,” Leon chuckles softly, “Show him what I get to see every night. My favorite sight in the whole world.”

Your body moves as if it’s possessed when you cum. Your back arches into a curve with supernatural speed. Your eyes are screwed shut while your mouth is wide open. The younger man next to you grins while the older man below you continues to make out with your pussy, lapping up every drop of you that he could.

When you start to come down, he lets up, knowing Leon had more in store from you. He lets your hips go, and you basically topple over onto the mattress. You inhale and exhale deeply as the cool motel sheets rest against your cheek.

Chris’s eyes are hooded from lust, the effects of the most erotic experience in his life lingering. His cock is fully hard, standing up and aching for more of your touch. Yet in a way he’s satisfied, having just made you cum, tasted the sweetest part of you, and heard your most vulnerable sounds.

Leon’s undressed on the bed, the only one of the three of you whose mind didn’t feel hazy with clouds of desire. He tugs on his stiff cock a few times as he decides what to do. His eyes flit between your crumpled up form and the other man lying on his back.

“Chris, you wanna hold her for a little bit? Have her sit in your lap?” he asks.

The older man almost felt pathetic at how eager he was to play along and say yes. Almost. Because he still does that. He nods and sits up, leaning back against the headboard.

The next move is getting you up. Your boyfriend guides you to where Chris is, and he then helps you into his lap. Your mind was coming back to normal, and you were looking up at Leon with adoration while you melted against Chris’s broad chest. You nuzzle it gently, feeling its warmth and plush quality. His thick arms encase you, making sure you feel secure.

Leon pulls you on your hips to get you a bit lower where he has easier access.

“I’m not gonna let you fuck her this time. I wanna show you how it’s done first,” Leon teases as he slots himself between your legs.

In any other instance, this would’ve pissed Chris off. Everything about it would’ve left him disappointed and annoyed. But now any negative emotion is overshadowed by two words.

This time.

Because this time implies there will be a next time. And maybe even a time after next time. Another time for him to feel his cock inside you. Another time for him to make you cum on his fingers or watch you ride him. Some of his hopes spring back to life.

Internally, his heart is soaring. He kisses your hairline carefully as Leon slides his tip between your folds that are sticky with arousal. He teases himself with the feeling only a few times before nudging the tip inside.

Your head falls back against Chris’s chest and you moan. He kisses your temple and caresses your sides as if you need to be soothed. As if this isn’t the dick you’ve been taking nightly for the last few months.

Chris’s own length is rock solid against your back. Every small change in your facial expression or rise in pitch of your voice sends blood rushing to it, the threat of cumming untouched ever present.

Leon steadily pushes in until he’s buried all the way inside and you’re nice and filled to the hilt.

“So fucking tight. You gotta feel it, Chris. You thought she tasted good? Just wait till you feel her,” he grunts.

“I bet. I could tell from how cute her pussy was. She was clenching around nothing the whole time. I’m sure she loves to squeeze down anytime she’s got a cock in her,” Chris whispers

More hope was rising in him that this wouldn’t be a one night only thing, and it took all his strength not to smile like an idiot. His knuckles move down your cheek lovingly as he speaks to you and holds you while Leon thrusts. Your body rocks gently with the momentum, pushing you against Chris’s cock each time.

“She does love to get all tight. Just wants to suck me in so I can never leave,” Leon says and holds your thighs to start thrusting harder.

“Such a needy girl. I should’ve known, rookie,” Chris murmurs to you.

“It just feels so good,” you whine, “It’s not my fault.”

“Oh I know it’s not, precious,” Leon mocks, “Your head is always full of nothing but air when I’m around. It probably just gets worse with Chris here.”

You whine in protest and squirm a little, unknowingly grinding your ass on Chris’s cock and coaxing a moan from him. Leon’s dick hits deeper too, bringing you heightened pleasure.

“You’re not an airhead, baby. You’re a sweet girl. My rookie. You just wanna feel good, hm?” Chris says teasingly.

You nod along, and from the look on his face, Leon is amused, pleased with the dynamic Chris opened up.

“No one said she isn’t sweet. Just that she goes a little dumb as soon as she’s got my dick in her,” he teases.

He sighs and his eyes roll back for a moment as you clamp around you. He keeps rocking in and out, enjoying the wet sounds coming from each one of his movements. He also can’t get enough of your mewls or the way you're clutching one of Chris’s forearms right now.

“Maybe he’s right about that. You just work so hard all the time. You need something that can calm you down,” Chris says and squeezes his arms around you, “You’re still so precious.”

You look up at Chris with lovey dovey eyes, remembering why you’d been so enamored with him in the first place. He talked to you like you were the sweetest thing to walk this earth and made you believe it. He made you feel cared for in a way that was indescribable. Pure feeling.

“Yeah you are,” Leon grunts, “And you can go as dumb as you want right now, baby. We’re both here taking care of you. I’m sure Chris loves holding you while all you can do is whine for more.”

“That’s right. I love seeing you like this, knowing you’re taken care of,” he whispers, “And you know I’ve always got you. I’ll never let my rookie go.”

All the words are overwhelming. You pant and writhe more in Chris’s grasp.

“You getting close again, babydoll?” Leon asks, knowing your tells.

You whimper and nod quickly.

“Good. I am too,” he grunts.

He starts working himself into you harder. The momentum from each snap of his hips keeps you rubbing against Chris’s shaft and working him closer to the edge as well. All three of you are panting, muscles tensing up in some way as the end approaches. 

You stare into Leon’s eyes for a moment before rotating your head and looking up at Chris. Both sets of eyes are fixated on you. The overflow of attention is the final strike your body needs to start convulsing with release. The older man’s arms tighten around you, keeping you close as your skin heats up and your noises grow whinier. Your boyfriend keeps a steel grip on your hips, his fingers stroking back and forth.

“That’s my girl,” Leon grunts, “Let it out, baby.”

He moans and lets his head fall back as he feels himself hurtling towards the finish line.

“My rookie. Just perfect, honey,” Chris whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

The words nearly triple your pleasure and you continue to ride out the high as Leon finally cums and shoots it inside you. He nearly growls as he pounds into you, completely emptying himself. All the rutting is enough for Chris to cum too. He spurts his hot seed against the small of your back, holding onto you with all he has as his hips jerk upwards and he imagines it’s him buried inside you.

Leon’s the first to get his bearings back. He pulls out slowly, letting you adjust to the feeling of emptiness. He then rolls to the side of you and Chris, watching the final moments with the other man. You lie on his chest with your eyes drooping, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. His hand lazily runs down your side. He savors your warmth on his chest. Almost subconsciously, it feels like you really are his in this moment.

That is until you regain your composure and sit up. You hop up for a moment to clean off the mess on your back. He knew you’d have to, but the sight still makes Chris’s heart ache. 

As you return to the bed, you give your boyfriend a dizzy smile and crawl over to curl up at his side. He rubs your back and pecks your forehead. For the two of you, it’s like a regular night. Chris isn’t sure where he fits in this anymore. Should he just move to the bed you two had claimed earlier? Should he make the two of you get up?

He’s running through solutions in his mind when your hand comes out and grabs his wrist. You’re looking up at him with some sort of longing in your eyes.

“Stay with us,” you say.

It was softer than he ever heard from you, different from when you introduced yourself on your first day of work or made a mistake on a mission. It was a new kind of shyness that just made him want more from you. He stares at you and contemplates the idea. Leon raises his eyebrows and gives him a look, giving him the silent ok he needed to slowly lower himself to the mattress. 

He shuts off the light first, leaving the motel room in darkness except for the glow of the yellow street lamps shining through the window. His head hits the pillow, and he drapes an arm over you. You’re still leaning into Leon for the most part which he makes no move to interfere with.

The three of you don’t say anything for the rest of the night. Silence permeates the atmosphere of your shared space. The events of the last hour run through each of your minds in different ways. The mission had taken a back seat for now. It could return to prominence tomorrow once the mental dust had settled.

Leon’s eyes flutter shut first, and his deep, even breaths of sleep follow. You’re barely awake with your cheek squished against his pectoral muscle. Chris watches you, the outline of your face illuminated from the faint light outside. He wonders if this really will be the only time with you. If his taste of heaven will remain that, a sample of what he could have had. He chooses to not believe that and drive himself crazy.

He shuts his eyes too and brings his face to nestle against the crook of your neck. His breath hits your neck when he sighs. In the abyss that is the motel room, he feels your hands come up to rest on his arm.

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Girls Castellan might like

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Athena kid!Reader

Summary: After talking to Annabeth, you try to figure out who Luke likes. And what would be the best way to do this other than a list?

Warnings: fluff, english is not my native language

Word Count: 2.6k

First when you had arrived, Camp Half-Blood sounded like a dream. A place where you were finally safe, thanks to Mr. D. the weather was always good and there were many activities. But after some time, doing always the same stuff got boring. Learning ancient Greek, cleaning stables, Pegasus riding, picking strawberries, Sword and archery training, Volleyball, Capture the Flag, swimming in the lake, and campfire singalongs. Every week it was the same. Thanks Aphrodite, you were all hormonal teenagers and at least there was sometimes exciting drama at camp.

Like right now, you were sitting at breakfast, and you couldn't help but notice, that Lucy, Daughter of Aphrodite, was glaring holes in the back of Luke Castellan’s head. Clutching the knife firm that her knuckles were white, she looked as if she was about to jump up and pounce on the Hermes cabin counselor. A big contrast to yesterday, when they couldn't keep their hands off each other around the campfire. So, what happened in the darkness of the night?

"You see it too?”, you asked your half-sister Annabeth curious, who already had assessed the whole situation.

“It’s not surprising, she isn’t his type.”

“Not his type?”, you echoed taken aback.

Before Luke and Lucy were a thing, only for ten days but still a thing, he had something with one of Lucy’s half-sisters. There had been a lot of drama, when Luke had ended things with Stephanie and was seen kissing Lucy three days later. It had been a lot of fun, maybe except for Luke, Stephanie, and Lucy. But back to the actual situation, after this story, everybody, you too, though that Luke’s type were beautiful girls, preferable daughters of Aphrodite. And who could blame him? They were otherworldly pretty.

“He likes feisty girls who are good fighters”, Annabeth told you unaffected while picking at her bacon with her fork.

“How do you know that?”

Annabeth and Luke were close, like siblings. But you couldn’t imagine neither Annabeth nor Luke lying down on one of their beds and talking about girls.

“Because he is so obvious.”

If she said so. You hadn't noticed it yet, but maybe you hadn't looked closely either. You had wanted to spare yourself the pain.

“And who does he like?”, you dared a short look at Luke, who was laughing about something Chris had said. Seeing this, you couldn’t help it, your lips pulled up to a small smile. Next to you Annabeth rolled her eyes. But you only had eyes for the pretty head counselor of cabin 11.

“Won’t tell you”, astonished you teared your eyes of Luke and looked to your little sister. A smug smile was dancing around her mouth. “You always complain that you're bored.  Perhaps finding it out may help you battle your boredom.”

You immediately regretted complaining to her about your boredom at the start of your breakfast. This was now her revenge.

“Can you at least tell me if it’s a girl or a boy.”

“A girl, that's the only tip you get.”

Like every organized person you started your research with a list. Your list with the very fitting title ‘Girls Castellan might like’ included every girl at camp, except the ones who were too young and the girls you knew, were bad at fighting.

Next your research led you in the arena, where Luke was teaching sword fight. Clutching your list, like it was your most prized possession, you searched for a good place to keep an eye on everything. With a little bit of luck, you would be able to watch, how Luke was interacting with some of the girls on your list and could draw further conclusions from this.

You weren’t the only one, who came just to watch the practice. A few seats away sat a few daughters of Aphrodite. And you quickly understood why.

Holding a sword Luke was a force to be reckoned with. His movements were smooth as butter, and you couldn’t help noticing his muscles tensing under his shirt as he performed various exercises. Your gaze unconsciously slipped to his large hands, which were loosely holding the sword. After years of wielding a sword, they must be covered with calluses. How would it feel, if his callused hands would wander over your body, cupping your hips to pull you closer to him?

“What are you scheming?”

An all too familiar voice snapped you out of your daydream. Caught like a deer in headlights you looked up to Luke Castellan, who was standing right in front of you. Just looking at his hands, you could feel a blush slowly creeping up. Damn hormones.

“I’m not scheming”, you protested while stuffing the list hastily in the back pocket of your jeans shorts.

“Sure, that's why you're hiding the note”, amused Luke’s brown eyes sparkled. And what beautiful eyes he had. Stop! You had to concentrate! “Besides kids of Athena don’t just sit around and watch people, you lot are always scheming.”

“If you say so”, trying to seem cool, you shrugged your shoulders. “But that’s not why you came here.”

“Always so wise, fancy a fight?”

„There is no way I will beat you with a sword.”

And why fight if you already knew that you would lose? That wasn’t your style. You and your half-siblings knew better than that.

“What about hand-to-hand combat?”

Now you were talking! In hand-to-hand combat you could stand a chance.

“So desperate to lose, Castellan?”, you teased trying to drive away the nervousness that had settled in your bones. Sometimes you hated the nervousness Luke Castellan made you feel in his present, but looking at him, you knew, that you could never hate him.

“When it comes to you, I’m always desperate”, there was a time, were words like that form Luke’s lips, had made your heart flatter. That was before you realized that he was just a big flirt and wasn’t serious. But now, older, and wiser, you just rolled your eyes, before you motioned for him to follow you down in the arena.

“Flirting will not help you to win.”

Luke just shrugged, “Doesn't hurt trying.”

Yours and Luke’s hand-to-hand combats were famous around the camp. Luke had quick reflexes, was tall and full of muscles, while you were a strategic mastermind, always three steps ahead. And none of you shied away from getting down and dirty. Therefore, it was no surprise, that a ring of onlookers had already formed before one of you could throw the first punch. Besides, you were too focused to really mind it. You had already fought against Luke so often, that it felt more like a rehearsed dance than a fight. Maybe this was your way of dancing. While the Aphrodite girls danced around the bonfire, you danced in an arena to the music of your own heartbeat.

Like always it was Luke who opened the fight. With one large strike he closed the distanced between you and tried to punch you in your face, so your hands would go up, and he could kick you in your belly. Seeing this coming, you caught his hand with yours and while he lifted his leg, your swiped yours under his other one to bring him down. Letting go of his hands, you watched with a smile, how the tumbled down to the floor. But instead of going after him, you gave him the time you stand up. He was stronger than you, so you wanted to avoid wrestling with him on the floor so early at all costs, it would only end badly for you. First, he had to get tired, and none knew better that you how to wear down Luke Castellan.

His next three punches you easily dodged and then you stroke. Letting go of a flurry of blows it was Luke’s turn to block. For a moment you just exchanged blows, neither of you managed to blow the other's cover. But then Luke clipped the side of your face and while hot pain shot through your left cheek, you stumbled back. However, as fast as he punched you, you recovered. Dipping under his outstretched arm, you twisted said arm in a painful angle. You could hear his sharp inhale. And maybe it brought you a little bit of joy. But before you knew what happened, Luke had knelt and thrown you over his shoulder. To everyone's surprise, including yours, you somehow managed to land on your feet. Taking advantage of the chance that his face was still near your knees, you rammed your knee into his nose, drawing first blood. Both of you watched stunned how it dripped down from his chin to the floor, where it mixed with the sand. You had won sooner than any of you thought.

“It was a good fight, sorry about your nose”, you winced, but Luke just waved you off.

“It’s fine.  I would have preferred it if you had won the fight with a tackle, but that's the way it is.”

Before you could respond a pretty girl from cabin 10 rushed to Luke with a handkerchief in her hands, and you were forgotten. Not wanting to watch Luke soaking up her attention, you retreated.

Only when you had left the arena and wanted to reach for your list, you found it missing.  As if struck by lightning, you froze. You were pretty sure, that you didn’t lose the list. If it had fallen out of your pocket, you would have seen it lying on the floor, you were sure of it. That could only mean one thing. Just thinking about it made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you. Hot panic shot up your back and you felt like screaming. Someone had stolen your list, without you even noticing.  There was only one person who got close enough to you to do this and at the same time had the nimble fingers required, Luke Castellan.

At dinner, you were sulking in self-pity while you were trying very hard to look everywhere except at a certain table. Maybe if you would not draw his attention for a week or maybe two, he would forget about the list. Or at least you could pretend that he forgot. The other option was, that you would flee from camp and never look back. Considering the monsters that lurked outside the borders for young demigods, the first was clearly the safer option.

The fear that he would share the list with all the campers, and they would laugh at you, gnawed at you, that you couldn't swallow a bite. Your throat felt like it was tight up, yet it was your hands who were tight up. You couldn’t do anything besides waiting for the storm to blow over, and you hated it.

Your thoughts got interrupted by a paper plane which landed perfectly in front of you. Surprised, your head shot up, and your eyes locked with a pair of dark brown ones. Sending you a wink, Luke dived into conversation with his siblings, and you couldn’t help but groan. His father was the messenger god, if Luke wanted to convey a message, he could do it by paper plane without any problems.

Torn you looked at the paper plane. Did you really want to know what he had to say? What if he just wanted to make fun of you? But if not? With shaking hands, you picked up the paper. Your mum was Athena, goddess of war, you wouldn't hide from Castellan, you would face this fight. Determinedly unfolding the paper, your eyes scanned the list spread out in front of you. You knew this list; you had written this list. Everything was how you had left it, beside one thing. Luke has crossed out the ‘might’ in the title and had replaced it with a ‘doesn't’ in his scraggly handwritten. Now the new title of your list read as ‘Girls Castellan doesn't like ‘.    

A few days passed and you weren’t wiser. There must be a mistake! The list you made included every girl, that could fight and wasn’t a child. If Annabeth wasn't wrong, Luke had to like one of them. And Annabeth was never wrong. Crouching on your bottom lip you looked down on the list in your hands.

You were sitting in the grass near the strawberry fields, the sun was warming your face. When you weren't busy avoiding Luke, you were thinking about the list and its meaning. By changing the title Luke hinted, that he didn’t like any of the girls on the list. You had double and triple checked it, you hadn’t forgotten anyone. But Annabeth couldn’t be wrong, that had never happened before. It was maddening. It was like a riddle you were too dumb to solve, and you hated it. You were a daughter of Athena for god’s sake. Right now, you were possible one of her greatest shames, if she was interested enough in you to know what you were up to.

Before more negative thoughts could fill your mind, a shadow appeared over you. As you looked up, calluses hands stole the list out of your fingers. Groaning you faced none other than Luke Castellan.

“Still trying to find out who I fancy?”, he asked with a shit eating grin, and you couldn’t help but blush. But before you exposed yourself any further, you went into offense. As well known, attack was the best defense.

“You mislead me intentional”, you accused him. “The list includes every girl from camp. If Annabeth not wrong, you must like one of them.”

And you both knew Annabeth was never wrong.

“Actually, you forgot one person on your little list.”

That couldn’t be. You checked the list, more than once. You hadn’t! But it wouldn’t hurt to check the list another time.

“Give me the list”, you demanded, but Luke just hold the list over his head out of your reach. This was how he wanted to play it? Fine by you. Springing to your feet, you reached for the list, but Luke was taller than you. Tiptoeing you unconsciously moved closer to Luke. You first realized how close you were, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. Fighting a blush you hold your breath. You were so close, that Luke could certainly feel your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

“You are missing from the list”, he whispered, and you just could gape. That was too good to be true. That must be a dream.

“Because you can’t fancy me.”

“Why not?”

Truly confused, Luke furrowed his brows. Never had you seen him like this, and slowly you realized that he wasn’t joking. He didn’t want to trick you, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Had you not wished for this for a long time?

“I’m not pretty like the Aphrodite girls you dated”, you confessed your insecurity. But Luke didn’t want to hear anything about it.

“In my eyes you are. You are tougher, braver, smarter, and far more beautiful. You are perfect. Can I kiss you?”

Lost for words, you could just nod. Carefully taking your face in his hands, he stroked back your hair, before lowering his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, slow and everything you ever wanted. Sadly, it was over way too fast.

“I’m very glad Annabeth told me to help you with your project, on the day we fought. Otherwise, I wouldn't have stolen your list”, Luke confessed, still caressing your face. Oh, you see what she did there.

“Seems like she did set us up. Should we prank her for this?”

“Did I already tell you, that you are perfect?”            

[sturnsluttz]

Let me~Chris Sturniolo ꣑ৎ

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After a shitty day all you want is your boyfriend Chris who’s wants nothing more than to make you feel better, especially if that means softly fucking you till you can’t move.

WARNINGS: Soft dom Chris x sub fem reader, established relationship, smut, p in v, fingering, oral-fem receiving, slow sex, gentle Chris, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it plz), aftercare

enjoy xx

You sat lazily across your bed, drained from an equally horrific morning, day at work and drive home. You had stained your last white work top, rushing out the door, been screamed at by your boss and when you thought the bad luck was over you nearly got rear ended on your way home.

As soon as you had arrived home all you wanted to do was cry your eyes out then call your boyfriend, Chris. You didn’t expect him to come over but you just wanted to hear his voice. Attempting to call and not cry you picked up the phone laying by your side, clicked his contact and it began ringing. You caught a faint glimpse of your reflection on the screen, Jesus, you looked rough. Quickly sniffing and wiping away the faint mascara stains off your face you recollected yourself before he answered.

“Hey ma” Chris talked through the phone enthusiastically, “Hey Chris” you responded, smiling to yourself at the goofy nickname. Chris sensed your dull tone immediately questioning if you were ok. “I had a really rough day, I didn’t mean to bother you, just wanted to hear your voice” you honestly admitted, “aww y/n I’m sorry, I’ll be right over, do you need anything while I’m omw?”

“Chris it’s ok you don’t have-“ you were cut off “No y/n tooo late, I’m leaving now” you giggled at his sassy response, “thanks” you huffed, “course ma”.

It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your front door, you were too physically drained…and comfy to get up and open the door so you texted Chris to let himself up, but by the sounds of it he was already doing just that.

A glint of light hit you as your door was slowly cracked open. Standing there was Chris, with a sympathetic smile on his face, “hey y/n”. You didn’t know why, you were happy he was here but you began to feel that hot burning sensation in your eyes as a tear dripped down your now lowered face. “Shh sh it’s ok, I’m here” Chris spoke dropping his bag (presumably to stay the night) at the door and rushing to wrap his arms around you. He sat cradling you as you cried pathetically into his chest, squeezing him tight.

Chris held your shoulders lightly prying you away from him so he could see your face. You dropped your head to look at your twiddling thumbs, not wanting him to see you in such a state. “Hey baby, look at me” Chris spoke, lifting you head to look at him. You sniffled not even wanting to imagine how horrific you looked right now. “There’s my girl” Chris responded smiling at you, wiping away your tears and dripping snot shamelessly.

“Can you let me look after you ma?” Chris spoke softly, you nodded confused on what that ment but grateful nonetheless. He moved carefully from your comforting side, directing you to lay down. He adjusted around you comfortably laying next to you, drawing circles on your arm with his finger. Before you nearly nodded off to sleep at the calming sensation you felt a hand tap your hip, your gaze shooting down to meet his, “Can I take these off and make you feel good baby?” Chris said gesturing to your shorts with his eyes. You nodded back at him, helping him pull them down as he threw them lightly to the floor.

Chris stared in awe at your pink lace panties, toying with the waistband he glanced at you for permission and with a nod of your head they joined the pile on the floor. “So pretty” Chris praised, lowering himself between your legs, opening them. Your breath hitched at his new position squeezing your legs back together “it’s ok baby, let me see how wet you are for me”, you felt Chris’s breath on your thighs as he spoke sent light shivers up your spine. “Relax y/n, let me make you feel good” Chris whispered, reverting your legs back to their previous open position.

“Please” you muttered, your cheeks turning a dark shade of red, snapping Chris out of his admiration trance. “Of course baby” he responded placing a hand on your thigh. Chris inched closer to your heat, without warning placing a small kitten lick across your folds “mhm Chris” you whimpered at his touch somehow already sensitive. “I know baby, I know” Chris continued, licking up and down your slick, stopping to give a gentle kiss to your clit. He paused before carefully running a finger against your cunt “can I” he questioned before going any further. “Mm yes” you panted out, desperate for more of his touch.

Chris knew the control he had over you, he knew he could rail you to pieces if he wanted too. But he didn’t, he cared. All Chris wanted in that very moment was to take care of you. You felt his finger delicately enter you, your back arching him further into you. Strangled whimpers left your mouth as he began to pump his finger in and out of you. “Mfm-fuck—Chris” you moaned as he moved, “Mmore—please” you muttered. Granting your wish he added a second finger, his angel blue eyes locked on your contorted face as he continued pumping into you.

“Mm-Chris—Ddont stop” you chocked out, “I’m close”. His free hand lay holding your waist, the other still thrusting into your dripping pussy. “I won’t baby” Chris answered, and without slowing the pace of his fingers his tounge joined his fingers licking circles around your clit. Sweat beaded at your forehead as you felt your orgasm burn inside you, and without warning the knot snapped with a loud moan. Chris slowed his movements helping you ride out your high. Detaching his tongue from your swollen clit.

His face moved to meet yours, slowly pulling his fingers out of you in the process. His hands moved to hold either side of your face, kissing your lips. You could feel your own cum still on his fingers as they moved back down to reach under your shirt, squeezing your tits lightly. “Chris, I” you began “yeah” he replied, his eyes never leaving your face as he continued caressing your boobs. “I want you—“ you paused, “inside of me, not just your fingers” a light grin crept across his face as you spoke, “are u sure ma? I don’t wanna overstimulate you” he responded, care in every word. “I-im sure, I need you” you continued, your stomach fluttering with embarrassment.

Only second had passed before Chris’s pants and boxers grew the pile of the floor. He held himself over you while he pumped his length in his hand. Warm precum dripped onto your stomach before you felt his tip graze against your puffy folds. “You ready sweetheart?” Chris questioned, you nodded frantically as a reply, feeling his tip push into you. Your hands shot up to hold his waist for support, your nails digging into his soft pail skin “Mhmp—sorry” you apologised as the little red indents you left became visible “don’t be, I’ve got you” Chris whispered back. You felt his dick sink further into you, your insides stinging as you adjusted to him. “I’m halfway baby, you talk to me—tell me when you want more” Chris assured, so careful not to hurt you, “now” you exhaled while giving a light nod.

Chris finally bottomed out, his tip kissing your cervix “tell me when I can move baby” Chris says holding painfully still as his dick throbbed inside you. “Mfmm-uh-n—now” you whimpered back to him. Chris granted your wish as he began carefully thrusting in and out of you.

It wasn’t long before your pussy started to ache from overstimulation. Your previous organs hit you so fast and Chris’s dick was already inside you giving you no time to recover. You squirmed under him, his thrusts slowly rocking you back and forth. His speed picked up likely to chase his own orgasm, “C-Chris—mhm-sensitive rem-member” you reminded “sorry baby” his hips immediately slowed “your pussy just-uh-squezin me so—t-tight”

His thrusts continued at a much slower pace as your orgasm began to rebuild. Your pussy aching around him. “Mm-im c-close” you moaned. “Let it out gorgeous” Chris responded, and with that your orgasm hit you with a painfully guttural moan. A tear ran down your cheek as you tried to recover, Chris still thrusting deep inside of you.

“Mhmpf—C-Chris!” “T-too much” you cried, your thighs shaking from overstimulation. “I know ma-I-im sorry” Chris moaned into the crook of your neck, making your brain go fuzzy. “I’m so c-close I promise” he continued, you only whimpered in response before your insides were filled with that warm sticky sensation.

Chris panted loudly, trying to regain his composure “im so sorry baby” he spoke, his dick still holding his release inside of you. “You ok?” He asked, obviously concerned, you nodded tiredly in response as he let out a sigh of relief.

He pulled out of you, making you wince from overstimulation-him immediately apologising. The white liquid began to leak from your pussy onto your bed, “shit sorry ma, I’ll clean that up” Chris spoke. He stood up from the bed pulling his sweats back on, leaving to go get a towel.

A minute or two passed before Chris was back, with a wash cloth in hand. You attempted to get up but the shake in your now jelly legs prevented you. “Here, I gotcha” Chris chuckled, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you carefully on the edge of the cold bench, wetting the cloth with warm water. Chris leaned between your legs, your core still throbbing “im just gonna clean you up baby, I’ll be gentle” he spoke softly. You felt him wipe your thigh lightly, you shivering at his touch “too cold?” He questioned “no-it’s fine, thank you Chris” you assured him as he continued to clean you up.

You returned to your spot in his arms as he carried you back to your room, dressing you in your favourite pjs. “Chris why is there a white stain on my favourite sheets” you questioned looking at your bed, “whoops” Chris replied, a guilty look painted on his face which made you laugh. “This what happens when I let you look after me? You giggled at him, “maybe” he replied.

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LMK IF YALL LIKE THISSSSSS-it’s also not proofread so sorry if there are any mistakes😚😚

-ari xx

[nombitenary]

Been really loving the idea of filling every last inch of Christopher’s guts and I owe @cicada-sized my life for letting me draw his OC Ozzy being squeezed down inside. If only he weren’t so impressed at having actually been swallowed, maybe he would be fighting just a little harder right now to keep the last of him from being sealed inside… better luck next time. If Chris decides to give you a next time, of course.

[theleomarspt2]

The Lake Date

Cw: Fart/Hyperfart content ahead

It was a warm day, and Lorenzo was enjoying his swim when a handsome young guy setting up his picnic not far from shore had caught his attention. Confindent in his smoohtness, Lorenzo swam back to shore to retrieve his glasses and dry off his hair. The sun glistened against his perfectly toned swimmers body, as his speedo hugged him in all the right places. Lorenzon continued to look at the guy who had called his attention, and he was determined to put him to the test.

As Lorenzo approached the guy, he felt a rumble in his abdomen indicating his stomach was producing enough gas to impress the guy.

"Hey, lovely day for a picnic"

"Uh yeah..."

The other guy looked nervous, not knowing why some handsome man in a speedo was approaching him. As he sat on picnic blanket, he could not take his eyes off this handsome stranger. Something about his slim muscular body and wide smile made him feel approachable.

"Where are my manners? I am Lorenzo"

"I am Chris, I take it you are practicing your swimming?"

"Haha that obvious? And what brings such a handsome guy like you to be eating alone?"

Chris demeanor went from shy to sad.

"Well, I was supposed to be here with someone... but he broke up with me."

Lorenzo saw Chris drawing into himself, and with an understanding expression lowered himself to Chris’ level, putting his hand on Chris’ shoulder.

"Hey man that sucks, sorry to hear that" Lorenzo said, happy to hear that this cute stranger was gay.

"it’s alright I suppose, probably for the best"

"It’s his loss anyway, you’re too adorable a guy to simply let go"

Lorenzo’s compliment sent a shock down Chris’ system. While the sadness from the recent breakup had clouded his mind he could still pick up on Lorenzo’s intentions. With the ball in his court, Chris found a little courage within him.

"Well you know, I did bring quite more food than I could eat and I’d hate to have to take it all back, you’re not some psycho are you?"

"I promise I am not" Lorenzo knew well what his plan was, he could feel it in his stomach, so the question made him giggle.

"that’s good enough for me, if you don’t have anything else to do would you want to join me?" Asked Chris bravely.

"it’d be an honor"

Lorenzo said as he sat down on the blanket, in such a manner that his muscles flexed, trying to impress Chris.

The two men had a candid time, sharing about one another's lives. Chris got to share about how he was trying to move through life despite his shyness, while Lorenzo proved to be the contrary. The confident swimmer spoke about his passion for his job as a lawyer and his love for his more athletic hobbies. In between bites of cantaloupe and prosciutto Lorenzo began to feel a pressure building up against his back end, knowing fully well it was his time to see if this guy could handle all of him.

Both men continued their conversation, with Chris completely mesmerized as he Lorenzo's sweet Italian accent filled the air. With Chris giving him puppy eyes, Lorenzo saw a chance to start the betting process he always put potential partners into. A rumble erupted from his direction.

"Oh excuse me, hopefully this is not too rude but I can't hold it back" He said, and before Chris could process anything Lorenzo scrunched his face.

PBBBBBRRRRRTTT

A five second ripple exploded out of Lorenzo's muscular backside. Whatever moisture leftover from his swim seemed to evaporate. As the fart ripped a strange smell began to emanate from his speedo. It was like garlic, but with a smoky tinge to it.

"Haha my bad, you know, athlete's diet"

"Well.... it is just part of breaking the ice hahaha"

Lorenzo was surprised by how accepting Chris turned out to be of his fart. It seemed like Chris might pass Lorenzo's test afterall.

Both men continued to talk, Lorenzo's fart having loosened up some of the tension Chris was feeling. Just as Chris was about to try his luck at flirting he felt a tremor underneath his body.

PPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT

The subtle ground shaking turned into a sustained rattle that made the picnic blanket flutter. The flowers in the blooming trees that surrounded them began falling to the ground and being blown away before touching the ground, while a flock of nearby pigeons flew away startled by the booming sound emanating from Lorenzo.

"Oh damn... seems like my stomach decide to make a statement" Said Lorenzo quite proudly of the fart he had just ripped.

Holding back coughing, Chris could not help but to double over laughing. He could barely believe the absurdity of the situation. Here was a man who looked as though he had been carved by Michaelangelo with farts strong enough to cause small earthquakes. As bizarre as this was, it had an endearing air to it.

"Well," Chris said between bouts of laughter "That is a way to make a memorable first impression"

Lorenzo's proud expression turned into a mischievous grin. With a spark in his eyes, Lorenzo got closer to Chris.

"Memorable, huh? what if I went bigger next time" He leaned into Chris's ear and with a charming whisper said "Imagine, a serenade from my deepest end just for you... hopefully that way I can leave you breathless"

A rush of blood went to straight to Chris's face. Lorenzo's seductive demeanor, and its contrast with his unique talent, sent a shiver down his spine.

"A serenade? What an honor" he said trying to tease his companion back. "Well, maybe you can clear the park so it can be a bit of a private concert"

Lorenzo was taken aback by Chris's sudden confidence, but just as quickly he regained his composure and decided to take in the challenge. He took a deep breath and allowed for this belly rumble, announcing the production of new gas, ready to cause a ruckus.

As Chris was confidently smiling, Lorenzo reached over to him and pulled him by the back of his head. As Chris was leaned in, Lorenzo leaned in to make their forehead touch.

BBBUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRREEPPPPPPP

A loud, guttural belch erupted from Lorenzo’s mouth and blew back Chris’s hair.

“How’s that for a solo” Lorenzo asked with a smug smile on his face. A few hikers nearby turned to look at the source of the explosion while Chris remained speechless.

“Come with me” Lorenzo grabbed Chris’s hand and and the two walked towards the shore. “See those trees over there?” Lorenzo pointed at the island less than a mile away.

"Watch this" He said, as he turned back to Chris and pointed his butt towards the island. He inhaled deeply, the sound of his breath only rivaled by a roar that moved the top of his stomach towards his lower abdomen. He then proceeded to exhale, from both ends.

PPPPPPPPFFPFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT

PPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTRRRRRRRRTTTTTT

Two explosions exited Lorenzo's butt, the threads of his speedo somehow managing to stay together. The first fart, longer and with quite a cresendo, managed to form a considerably-sized wave that rippled accross the late and broke against the island, while the sheer force of it also managed to rustle the leaves in the trees of the island. Nearby swimmers began to try and scape, but were knocked over by the waves created by the fart. Sailboats began drifting away from the shore, and even nearby seagulls were pushed away by the current of wind. Chris simply watched with his mouth agape as the noxious winds from Lorenzo hit the island.

The second fart, while shorter, had deeper sound to it. The sonic boom of it continued to ripple across the water of the lake, but it was the smell of it that was the most impactful. A mixture of digested cheese and garlic, with a strange mixture of herbs that seemed to just have passed through Lorenzo's system made the first couple of birds fall into the water and seemed to turn a few of leaves of the island's trees brown. Lorenzo sighed, before relaxing his body and sitting by the shore, motioning for Chris to join him and contemplating the mayhem he had caused.

Initially stunned, Chris followed through and joined Lorenzo in looking at the the lake as it returned to its once interrupted tranquility.

"Wow" Said Chris "That was some next level"

"Haha I wanted to see if I could impress you, hopefully you're not scared now"

"I think I just need to keep you pleased now" Chris said with a smile on his face and a hand inching closer to Lorenzo's toned thighs. As Lorenzo was about to reach for Chris's hand a major rumble left his stomach, one that even send shivers down his entire body.

PPPPPFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTRTRRRTTTTTRRRRRRRBBBBBRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTRTTTTTTTRRSS

The deafening sound of a chainsaw emanated from the Italian man's butthole. The ground shook with as the sound reached its peak intensity. The force of the explosion sent shockwaves all around him, knocking lake goers down as they tried running away and causing most wildlife to struggle as they tried scaping what felt like the detonation of a bomb.

The fart's volume and odor soon became unbearable, even for Lorenzo who began coughing. He had little time to process the realization that he had finally ripped a fart that not even he could control was interrupted when he saw that a large wave was headed straight towards the island. As the fart began dying towards the one minute and thirty seconds mark, Lorenzo came back into his own mind after the gargantuan fart had taken him out of it.

Soon after he returned to his sense, he realized that Chris was holding to his torso, hugging him tightly trying not to fly away. Part of his clothes ripped from the blast while his face was pressed onto Lorenzo's chest.

"Fuck...... man I am sorry...sorry, the aftershocks are unpredictable."

Chris raised his head, a belwidered look in his face. He soon realized that he was hugging Lorenzo, and retreated into himself.

"Chris... fuck... I am sorry, I understand if you decide to-" Lorenzo was interrupted as Chris's hands held his face and Chris's lips touched his in a passionate yet sudden kiss, which Lorenzo reciprocated with gusto.

Instead of being annoyed, Chris felt a surge of warmth towards the man beside him. He could not stop himself from kissing Lorenzo, a man charisma and a butt capable of clearing a park. What more could a man ask for? As they pulled away from the kiss, Chris put his hands on Lorenzo's thighs.

"Well, your concert was impressive" Chris said smiling "and I hope you accept my request of a private one"

It was Lorenzo's turn to be taken aback by Chris's boldness, but as soon as the surprise wore off he smiled.

"I would love that Chris"

"Say no more" Without hesitating, Chris grabbed Lorenzo's hand and as both men stood up Chris began leading Lorenzo.

"Where?.. Where are we going?"

"First you are tellime where your car is and you are getting your clothes, can't have people looking at your butt after fart" Chris pointed to Lorenzo's backside as his speedo was not shredded and his buttocks were exposed.

"Then" said Chris "My place, I live not too far from here"

The sun shined on their path as the men walked hand in hand towards their destinations, both aware that a new beginning was brewing for the two of them.

Disclaimer: I do not own the pictures I used, the story described is 100% fictional.

Shout out to: @smellystars and @gassydumbjocks for giving me feedback while writing

[fluentmoviequoter]

hi hi hi i love your work!! this is definitely self indulgent, but i had an idea for dalton lambert! what if the reader was around instead of chris when dalton got possessed, and got pretty beat up (you choose how bad it gets) and the reader feels awful about it afterwards, feeling like they could’ve done something to help dalton even though there was nothing they could do, and dalton is just so upset that the reader got hurt and it ends all fluffy and comforting? basically just hurt/comfort (my favorite) :’)

Thank you!! This is one of my favorite requests ever!! Hurt/comfort is my favorite too, so I really enjoyed writing this one and hope it's what you wanted! :)

Warnings: angst, detailed physical harm, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, LOTS of spoilers for Insidious: The Red Door. 3.2k+ words

A/N: I used the second frat house scene and the possession scene for this fic. I decided to put reader in Chris's place in both scenes to give some background to their relationship. Reader says some of Chris's line in the first third or so, but then the story changes. And it's a breakup song, but the title was inspired by "Same Team" by Josh Kerr.

On Your Team

“Dalton, you’re not crazy,” you say as you walk into his dorm room.

“Thanks?” Dalton looks up from what he is working on as you set your laptop on his desk. “Didn’t know you and Chris had joint custody of the key now.”

“We don’t. She said I could keep it because I ‘have a better reason to need to get into your room.’ Whatever that means.”

You take the drawing pad from Dalton and set it aside before pulling the other chair beside him.

“I found this video and I think it could help you.”

You press play, but as the guys in the video begin talking about their mentor, Dalton pauses it and starts another video. Elise Rainier talks about astral projecting and the Further while you and Dalton give the video your undivided attention. Dalton comments once that he feels exactly what she’s describing. As the video ends, Dalton continues to stare at the screen.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you ask.

“The kid from the frat house?” Dalton begins.

“The pukey kid?”

“Yeah. He said something to me. He said, ‘Close the door.’ What if he didn’t mean a real door? What if he was talking about that door?” Dalton points to the painting of the red door.

“So, you want to go back and ask him?” you ask, your shock obvious.

“I need to know.”

“Dalton, I don’t know that going back into that dark realm is the best idea. You heard what the woman in the video said, the further you go the more dangerous it gets.”

“There’s something… important about this painting. I have to find out.”

You nod before saying, “Okay. But it’s not like Nick is just gonna let you waltz into his room and chat with the ghost in his toilet.”

Dalton laughs, and smiles as he states, “He’ll never know I’m there.”

You walk to the frat house, asking Dalton to share his plan several times. Every time he tells you that he has it under control.

As you walk through the back door and to the stairs, someone asks, “Can I help you?”

Dalton freezes, so you put on a fake accent and smile as you explain, “I have left my brassiere in Nicholas’s room and was wondering if he is perchance home?”

You feel Dalton look at you but keep your eyes on the girl as she tells you Nick is upstairs studying with Paige. You thank her, then drag Dalton up the stairs.

“I need a room with darkness,” Dalton states as you reach the second floor.

“Okay.” You begin testing doorknobs, avoiding Nick’s room. “Then what?” As you try another doorknob, the door opens, and you look back at Dalton. “Bingo.”

You turn off all the lights as Dalton moves a blanket to the floor and sits down. He nods at you, and you begin counting down from ten. Watching in awe as the door opens, you stand and look down the hall, whispering a wish of good luck to Dalton before you lock it behind you. You sit in the chair closest to Dalton’s body and pull your phone from your pocket to pass the time.

Down the hall, Dalton stands in Nick’s bathroom as everything grows darker. He isn’t sure how to find the guy from before, especially with Nick in his way.

While you look at your phone, the lights suddenly go out. You stand up and flip the light switch several times, though nothing happens. You look over at Dalton’s body and quietly call his name. Moving your hand to the doorknob, you try and fail to open the door. Something seems to move behind you, so you peek over your shoulder to check on Dalton.

“Dalton, wake up,” you demand as you continue pulling on the door.

Dalton hears your voice and says your name into the darkness before opening the bathroom door and moving down the hall.

“Close the door!” Someone yells before a hand bursts through the wall and grabs Dalton, pulling him into the wall.

Meanwhile, you step back from the door and begin to turn around before you are pushed against the wall, suddenly unable to breathe as you claw at your throat. Your vision grows fuzzy as you slump against the wall.

Dalton pushes away from the wall and runs toward the room where you are waiting with his body. As he steps through the open door, Nick enters before him, pointing a flashlight at your unconscious body. Dalton sees the demon leaning over you, removing its hand from your neck.

Nick drops to his knees and begins performing CPR on you, yelling for you to wake up as Dalton returns to his body. He gasps and wakes up just before you regain consciousness and sit up, gasping for air. You lock eyes with Dalton and wonder what he’s dealing with in the other realm.

Exiting the student health center, you don’t see Dalton waiting beside the door.

He calls your name as he walks behind you, placing a hand on your arm as he begins apologizing.

“I didn’t mean… I-I just wanted to see if you’re okay,” he stutters, removing his hand as he notices the faint bruise spanning your neck.

“I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone could get hurt in the real world.”

“Well, they can. I know that I should tell you to stop, but I know that you need answers. I need a little space right now, but don’t do anything without me. Next time, you might not wake up, and we can’t take that chance.”

“I’ll call you. I’m sorry.”

You nod and send him a small smile before walking away and returning to your dorm. Dalton watches you, then pulls his phone out to call Foster and get some answers about what happened while he was in his ‘coma.’

You’re sitting on your bed, watching a movie in a failed attempt to distract yourself. You get a text and pause it as you read Dalton’s words, ‘It wasn’t a coma I’m going to find the answer.’ As you finish reading, the lights go out.

“Dalton,” you gasp. Immediately, you begin unplugging all your lights and loading them into your arms as you prepare to check on Dalton.

Just as Dalton’s eyes open, a knock sounds on the door before it is opened.

“Just checking on you,” you explain as you close the door. “Are you alright? Because I thought when the lights went out that you were messing with that dark realm stuff again without telling me. Plus, I know you don’t care for the dark, so I thought I could illuminate your room, much like how I illuminate your life.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark anymore,” Dalton says behind you, sounding different than usual.

“Okay. Well, I brought all these down here, so I’m putting them up.”

You continue detangling the lights, plugging in one set at a time to determine which cord goes where. When the lights come on, you don’t see Dalton’s darkened eyes watching you.

“Dalton, have you considered that maybe you shouldn’t go digging around in your past?” You ask, oblivious to his intense stare. “Some things are just better left buried, you know? And sometimes you just have to move on.”

As you speak, Dalton stands and walks away from the bed where you are sitting. You look away from the lights to get his opinion but don’t see him anywhere.

“Dalton?” you ask, standing from the bed and looking around the suddenly empty room.

Scanning the room for the second time, you hear shaky breaths from the corner and slowly turn in that direction. Dalton is standing in the corner, his head hung low.

“Dalton. You okay?” you ask, moving toward him.

Dalton turns, revealing yellow eyes and darkened facial features. You turn and run toward the door but only take a few steps before your body collides with the wall. Landing on Dalton’s bed with a bounce, you ignore the pain radiating down your back as you look up at him. His arm is still outstretched from where he swung it at you. He lowers his arm and walks toward the bed, towering over you as his breathing grows raspier.

“Dalton. What?” you ask quietly.

Blood begins running from his mouth and down his chin as he pulls the drawstring from his sweatpants and wraps it around his hand.

“Dalton? Dalton, tell me you’re in there,” you beg. “Dalton, I know you’re in there. You’re stronger than anything in that dark realm.” He takes another step, and you add, “Do not touch me again.”

Whatever is controlling Dalton causes his body to laugh as his hands continue preparing the drawstring.

In the Further, Josh breaks the chain on Dalton’s ankle, removing control from the demon.

Dalton’s body freezes, and you watch as he collapses onto the floor. You stay where you are for a moment, then peek over the edge of the bed to make sure it isn’t a trick. Dalton’s face is no longer covered in blood, and it looks like he is himself again. Pushing yourself off the bed, you swallow a groan of pain as your back stretches with the movement. You feel your head pound with each movement but ignore it as you focus on Dalton. Grabbing a pillow from his bed, you gently raise his head from the floor and slide it under. Pushing Dalton's legs so that he is lying in the middle of the room, you move to one side of him and reach under the bed to plug some lights in. As the cord stretches, the lights on the other side of the room go out. You crawl around Dalton and lay on your stomach, then slide under the bed so you can see the cords. When the lights come on, you see a demonic face looking back at you from the shadows.

You yell, pushing out from under the bed quickly. A clawed hand follows you from under the bed, scraping across your wrist as you back away. You flip so that you’re sitting on the floor, then lift Dalton’s shoulders and head into your lap as you press your back into his desk, attempting to protect yourself from any sneak attacks from behind.

More creatures begin crawling out of the shadows under the beds and in the corners, so you pull Dalton closer to you, his head on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist. You use your legs to fend off the creatures, kicking as they reach out toward Dalton. Several hands wrap around your legs, digging into your skin as they pull themselves closer. Yelling and kicking, you hope this is enough to keep Dalton safe until he wakes up. A hand suddenly grabs your upper leg by your hip and pulls harshly. Struggling to stay upright, you turn and direct your knee toward the onslaught of hands vying for your left side. Whispering his name, you feel Dalton jerk slightly in your arms and silently pray that he is alive and on his way back to you.

As you glance down to check on Dalton, he inhales deeply and wakes up, sending the creatures away. He rolls out of your arms and hits his light switch, ridding the room of shadows. Without saying anything, he grabs the painting of the red door and a tube of black paint and begins covering it. It takes less than a minute before the door is no longer visible, and Dalton lets himself fall back into the floor.

His phone rings, but his gaze sweeps to you, and he forgets about the call. He moves to his knees and slides over beside you, gently nudging your chin toward him.

“You’re a really sound sleeper,” you murmur.

Dalton shakes his head as his phone begins ringing again. He answers it, says he’ll call back, and hangs up.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice weak as guilt and pain consume you all at once. “I said I��d be here to help, but I wasn’t. And I should have done more to help you, not leave you to deal with this alone. Dalton, I’m sorry.”

Dalton shakes his head as he looks over your body. “No, I’m sorry. You got hurt, twice now, because of me and my obsession with that stupid door. I hurt you, there is nothing you could have done.”

“Dalton don’t do that. I could’ve done more.” Tears run down your face as you shift away from the desk, trying to put space between you and Dalton. “If I had gotten here just a few minutes earlier, or not left you in the first place, you wouldn’t have been alone when the lights went out and none of this would have happened.”

“Look at me,” Dalton demands quietly. When you look up at him through teary lashes, he extends his hand toward you. “Please stop apologizing. I’ll stop too. Right now, you need help.”

You nod, taking Dalton’s extended hand.

“Where are you hurt? Besides the bruise from earlier and your wrist?” Dalton asks.

You look down at your wrist and see the claw marks from when you went under the bed. Shaking your head to clear it, you answer, “My back and my legs. I think that’s it, though.”

“Okay. Think you can stand up?”

“Not without help.”

Dalton helps you stand up, his jaw clenching each time you make a pained sound. Once you’re standing, he holds your elbows to support you and gestures toward his bed with his chin. He walks with you and helps you sit down before kneeling in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again.

Dalton looks up and you see the shine of tears running down his face. “I did this to you, and you’re apologizing to me?”

“You didn’t do it, Dalton. And it only happened because I failed in the one thing I told you I could do for you.”

Dalton’s hand raises to your cheek, careful not to brush any bruises or cause you more pain. “If I didn’t do it, and you didn’t know what was going to happen, then neither of us have a reason to apologize, right?”

You shake your head and begin to argue, but Dalton maintains eye contact as he brushes a tear away. You nod, still wishing that you could have done more for him.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?” Dalton asks.

“And tell them what?” you ask with a wet laugh.

“Good point,” Dalton agrees, smiling faintly.

He holds out his hand and points to your wrist, gently cradling your arm as you extend it to him.

“You’re lucky my mom packed for me, that’s the only reason I have a first aid kit,” Dalton says as he pulls it out of his desk drawer and opens it on the bed beside you.

“Are you hurt?” you ask, suddenly remembering you never asked.

“No, I’m fine. Physically.”

“And the door?”

“It’s closed. For good. This might sting.”

You brace yourself following Dalton’s warning. Squeezing a handful of his comforter in your other hand, you watch as he uses an alcohol wipe to clean the scratches on your wrist. He whispers apologies as he works, then discards the wipe and removes a bandage from the first aid kit. After letting you change into a pair of his shorts so he can see the damage to your legs, Dalton works in silence as he cleans and bandages the scratches and bruises spanning your legs. As he reaches the top of your left leg, you stop him.

“I don’t know how bad that one is,” you warn.

Dalton nods, and you pull your hand back, watching as he pushes the shorts up to see.

“It’s going to bruise,” Dalton informs. “Feel broken?”

You shake your head, and Dalton nods, cracking an ice pack several times before placing it on your leg. He directs your hand to it, and you hold it as Dalton stands.

“You said your back hurts? What happened?”

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly. “I just fell.”

Dalton’s face falls as he lowers himself back to your level. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything. Something else threw me against the wall.”

Dalton takes a shaky breath before asking, “How bad is it?”

“Feels like a deep bruise,” you answer honestly, “not going to be able to do anything comfortably for a few days, but probably nothing serious.”

Dalton tugs the hem of your shirt as he asks, “Can I check?”

You nod, and Dalton helps you stand, pushing the back of your shirt up and leaning down to look at your skin. He runs a gentle finger down your spine, causing you to suppress a shiver. Dalton pulls your shirt back down, moving in front of you.

“I’m not going to apologize again,” Dalton promises. “But I need to ask if you want me out of your life. I understand if you never want to see me again.”

You cut him off, interjecting, “No. I don’t want to see anyone but you, Dalton. I meant what I said earlier, I’m on your team, win, lose, or tie. Sure, today might have felt like a loss, but you closed the door and came back to me. That’s all that matters.”

“Most people would have told me to get lost after what happened earlier.”

“Maybe they just don’t understand you. Besides, you could tell me to get out and find someone better equipped to help you, keep you grounded.”

Dalton pushes a piece of hair out of your face as he smiles and says, “But you’re who I wanted to come back to.”

You smile and take a step closer to Dalton.

“I want to kiss you,” Dalton states, laying his hands on your hips, avoiding your bruises.

“I want you to kiss me,” you reply.

Dalton does most of the work, mindful of your injuries as he moves so you don’t have to. He keeps the kiss short and sweet, a promise of more to come. As Dalton pulls back, his phone begins ringing again. Rolling his eyes, he answers it and talks to his mom and dad as he plays with your fingers. You tug his hand as he begins talking about you, but he waves you off as he agrees to something before hanging up.

“What was that?” you ask.

“They want to meet you when you feel better.”

“You move fast.”

“Don’t want another guy to get possessed and sweep you off your feet,” Dalton teases.

“Literally,” you add. You see Dalton's smile fall and quickly lean over to kiss him. “That was a joke, if you apologize again we’ll both be injured.”

Dalton puts his hands up in a faux surrender before kissing your temple. “Good to know you’re not going anywhere.”

“I meant it, I’m on your team.”

Dalton smiles before kissing you again, mumbling that today was a win in his book. You couldn't agree more.

[alphabetatoes]

tennesee whiskey (n. kento x reader)

a.n.: this is basically a drawn out version of the prompt i posted earlier. fic title is in reference to the chris stapleton cover song (felt appropriate for the bar theme) (and and also also lets admire how cute the dividers i made in canva are) does this jump around in characterization? yeah maybe. go ahead, call the whimsy police on me! summary: nanami teaches you how to play pool c.w.: reader referred to using she/her pronouns, alcohol (reader is 21+), suggestive themes, smut if you squint, jealous nanami, and the ever-present risk of writing ooc. barely beta read (though what fic of mine is lmao) w.c.: 1.4k

You and Nanami were sent out to the middle of nowhere to exorcise a curse, in hopes of stopping it before it had the chance to propagate into something worse. Even though it was a Grade 3 curse, the higher ups deemed it safest for the two of you to go as a pair.. It was an in-and-out mission, the two of you making quick work to intervene. Soon enough, you were back in the car and headed back to campus. The simple pitter patter of raindrops hitting the windshield brought a strange sense of comfort. But the calm could only last for so long. A barricade of rain began to drop, bringing a swift end to the peace. He drove until the road was unnavigable, pulling off into an empty parking lot. The two of you were stranded. Your options were to either wait out the storm in the car, or attempt to find solace somewhere nearby. You chose to press your luck with the latter.

“Over there.”, he points out, pulling your attention.

Across the street, there was a dive bar still open despite the storm. The flickering neon lights were your own personal Eden. When you enter the bar, you’re immediately hit with warmth. A concoction of body heat and cigarette smoke fill the room. You can’t seem to mind it though. It draws the attention away from your clothes starting to form a second skin on your body.

“Now don’t you two look wonderful.” The bartender jokes. He bears a giant grin, and you can’t help but to feel unsettled by it. “If you got a change of clothes, restrooms are over that way.” Today was one of the days you were grateful for the spare set of clothes you kept on hand. Missions were unpredictable, and you never knew when you’d be stuck somewhere. You seize the opportunity and head to the restroom, eager to remove the soaked clothes. While you change, Nananmi orders two drinks from the bar.

“For you and your girlfriend?” “Hell, if she’s not spoken for, I’ll have to make her mine!” It’s not like he had a claim over you or anything. But as your partner, and even more so as your friend, he made your protection a top priority. It didn’t matter if they were one off comments. Nanami had lost too many to be careless.

“She’s fine.” Nanami’s tone is dry, unimpressed by the barkeep’s boldness. You return from changing, noticing the blond standing closer to you than before. It’s probably just a safety thing. Better to stay close together than apart, right?

“Drink this.” He hands you the other glass of whiskey. “It’ll help warm you up.” The liquor goes down relatively smooth, and you revel in the warmth of it. “How about a game of pool to pass the time?” You nod over at the table in the corner of the bar. The rain wasn’t letting up any time soon, and you figured it was a good way to pass the time. “You’ve played pool?” 

“I’ve dabbled in it… online.” He rolls his eyes and hands you a stick. A hint of a smile crosses his face. That stoic exterior he fronts at all times slowly starting to chip away. “We could make it fun. Loser has to do something for the winner?” An opportunity for the adult of all adults to let loose. You were curious to know what was behind that rigid exterior. “If I win, you buy me a drink.”  

“And what if I win?” A virtual win does not a professional pool player make, but you weren’t completely oblivious to the game. Even if the odds were stacked against you, you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Given the likelihood of that, I’ll do whatever you want.” He breaks, immediately shooting 3 balls into the pockets. Show-off. “Where’d you learn to play like that?” Of course the man of many secrets would turn out to be a semi-professional. Or he just really wanted a free drink. “Shoko and I used to play all the time when we were younger.”

It’s your time to shine. You step up to the table and ready your shot. “You’re doing it wrong.” Nanami smirks at your rigid form.You’re stiff as a board, awkwardly hovering the stick over the table. “Then show me, Mr. Professional.” Nanami moves from his spot across the table and positions himself right behind you. He places one hand on your stomach, arching your back out to him, and lets the other rest on your waist. “Now place your hands here.” He moves your right hand to grasp the pool stick; your left hand rests on the table forming a hand bridge toward the end of the stick. “Line up the shot and pull back when you’re ready.” He guides you to move, yet never adjusts his position from behind you. Hell, if you moved even an inch back, you’d ram right into him. You couldn’t say you minded though. 

Just as instructed, you line up your shot and pull back. Once you release, the pool stick makes perfect  contact with the cue ball. It spins for a moment, then promptly hits a striped ball into one of the six pockets. “Good shot.” His breath tickles your ear as he speaks. “Now do that about 8 more times and you’ll win.” You line up your second shot and- “Fuck.” The cue ball bounces off the side of the table and right into one of the pockets. “You’re overthinking it. Try not to be so stiff.” His tone is soft, sickly sweet almost.“Relax yourself.” He gives you a simple smirk as you relax, albeit into him. His strong hands hold on to your shoulders, kneading into them gently. Were you not in the middle of a game, you’d melt into his touch. Right here, right now.“

Easy for you to say. You’ve got like 4 balls left!” You whine, and his smirk grows wider. “Anything could happen.” Cocky. Such an easy claim for the blond to make! He was practically prodding a reaction out of you. And you would give it to him. A slap on the arm that he’d hope would linger for a second longer, but you pull away to align your next shot.

It had to be a fluke. The two of you were tied; it could’ve been anyone's game. But Nanami slipped up, knocking the 8 ball right into one of the pockets a turn early. Meaning you had won. Despite his banter with you about playing, he didn’t seem all that upset about the loss. “Alright, winner. Name your prize.”

“Kiss me?” You test the waters, careful not to scare him off. Be it the adrenaline rush from winning or the liquor, something emboldened your choice of prize. Nanami didn’t seem opposed either. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you lean in. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, as you lose yourself in the intoxicating taste and feel of him. Nanami is the one to deepen the kiss, pinning you against the table with his thigh. You let your hands fall to his shirt collar, playing with it and pulling him in closer.

As he cast a pointed look towards the bartender across the room, it became clear that Nanami had no intentions of letting anyone encroach on what was rightfully his. His lips trail down your jawline, leaving a trail of wet kisses in their wake, and finally rests against the sweet spot between your neck and shoulders. Nanami nips at the skin, deep enough to leave a mark. You pull away, trying to catch your breath. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you lost on purpose.” You smile, fixing the creases in his shirt collar. Nanami’s bruised lips pull into a cocky grin as he brushes his thumb over your lips. “Don’t doubt your ability. If anything, call it a newfound talent.”

“And what if I wanted to take this celebration somewhere more private?” You raise your brows, desperate to keep going  but without prying eyes. Nanami picks up on your request immediately, releasing you from the pool table. Possessive, his grasp pulls you close. It’s firm but gentle, a simple comfort as he leads you. You both shuffle into the small bathroom and lock the door. And right now, more than ever, you’re grateful for the deep drumming of the thunder and the loud pour of the rain. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

🔪 for Chris!

🔪 Awake surgery

CW: Referenced hand whump, blood, sadism, reluctant whumper, facility whump, BBU

"You have got to be joking." The doctor dried his hands off on the single-use towel he held, watching through the one-way window as the trainee inside sat, shaking his head at a nurse who was speaking to him in a low voice. He shook it less like he was saying no and more like he was simply denying that she was speaking at all. "Him again? What the fuck is Petrus doing to this kid? It's only been, what, four days since I got him out of the clinic in the first place!"

"I mean, you know what he does to him, he's one of the little sluts." The handler rolls his eyes. "Petrus fucks him stupid, not that any of them have brains to begin with. But this time 223499 dropped a glass during his Mixology class. Can't pin it this one on Petrus, it's all on 499 being a little bitch again. His Mixology instructor says he's a clumsy little shit."

"Great. Okay." Dr. Ross has a headache already. He hates this place, hates the crude, aggressive handlers and the way they talk about - and to - the trainees. He hates sewing the injured trainees up only to see them again, with new wounds needing dressed and new terror in their eyes. He hates everything about this job except the paycheck.

He can't wait to get another job and get the hell out of here.

The Facility gets to him - it works its way down under his skin, seeing the haunted, nervous way the trainees looked around all the time, trying to guess where pain would come from next. Trying to curry favor, to avoid the torture constantly forced on them anyway. He's been seeing their frightened faces and hearing them beg in his dreams far too often. "So he's here because..."

"It's a deep cut." The handler shrugs. "He needs stitches."

Dr. Ross looks back at the trainee. 223499 is holding perfectly still while the nurse turns his hand over. His palm is a mess of blood, darker than the new-penny shine of his hair. The trainee's stained fingers twitch nervously.

He's just a kid.

The same kid who'd automatically gone to his knees just a week ago, ready to do whatever he was commanded to, thoughtless obedience making the doctor's stomach turn.

He has to get out of here.

Dr. Ross swallows, feeling like there's a lump in his throat he just can't quite get rid of it. "Fine. I'll prep something to numb his hand, we'll give him a little bit of-"

"Nah." The handler shrugs, looking bored. "His primary's got a note on his file, didn't you see it? No painkillers for three weeks. Not even topical."

Dr. Ross watches 223499 flinch away from the nurse, who slaps him, making him cry out. The sound is muffled through the one-way window. As is the apology the boy provides immediately, stammering through it, only to be slapped again. This time, he doesn't cry out. He only cringes back, hunching into himself, and keeps his eyes down.

It makes Dr. Ross feel sick.

"... fine," He says, realizing the silence is drawing out too long. "I'll get him sewn up. He can go back to his room once it's done. Tell Petrus to leave him alone for one night, at least?"

The handler snorts with dry humor. "Yeah, good luck on that. But I'll tell him you said so. You want me to help you strap him down?"

Dr. Ross doesn't let himself look at the trainee again. "Yeah. Come in and strap him down while I prep."

"You got it, Doc." The handler gives him a lazy salute.

The kid doesn't fight being strapped down, but it doesn't matter. Once the work begins, the kid's back arches, he screams and thrashes wordlessly, then... even worse, he makes noises after like he's dying, low moaning sounds that seem barely human. He's shuddering, whispering apologies when all he'd done was drop a glass and try to clean it up too fast.

Dr. Ross goes home that night with the trainee's screaming in his ears. He hears the sounds the kid makes once the needle goes into his skin all weekend in his nightmares.

On Monday, he emails his resignation, effective immediately.

He's smart enough to have a one-way ticket booked for a country WRU isn't operating in before anyone reads it.

[xdeewolfx]

About rambling on about your day at trww screening, I would love to hear about it!

anon i love u ..... i'll put it under a cut cuz this might get long winded i love talking thank u

SO i went to the uh, august 12th ? the real will wood screening in new jersey last year. i think it was the last of 3 or so shows that day so it was taking place later in the evening. i got there uh Way Stupid Early because i wanted NOTHING to go wrong (i have chronic bad luck). the nice people at the movie theater were very kind, they let me sit inside and wait cuz it was hot out, they chatted with me a bit, and were just generally really cool people. i sat in the theater lobby for a bit, saw there was a merch table cleared and waiting to be set up. i didnt approach cuz im not That Kinda Person but i was like omg, thats gotta be for trww screening right. some people would come and go out of the direction of trww theater, mostly helpers. but THEN, im sitting there and i see tall guy in hat walk behind the table, rummage around in a bag, and start eating a lil snacky snack. the lobby was kinda dark and im blind as a bat anyway so it didnt click for me in the moment. i tried not to stare, only glanced up a few times. but eventually he looked up too and i was like wait that is THE real will wood. i stayed calm and casual, he waved at me, and i waved back with a sorta exasperated "oh my god, are you will wood?" and he just laughed and nodded. i told him i was there for the 7pm showing, and he (SO very shocked) was like "oh- oh my god? i thought you were here for the matinee!"

so that alone was super fucking cool. i didnt try to keep him or nerd out too much cuz at the end of the day he is just like, A Guy. yeah i really like his music but i didnt wanna be a freak or anything. he walked off and im like keysmashing in the discord group chat to my friends. chris appeared a few times too, walked outside for a smoke or to take a call or whatever. i smiled at him a few times but didnt have any one-on-ones and again didnt wanna be weird and pull him away from what he was doing or whatever.

after a bit, will walks out of the theater and approaches me. he leaned in and whispered "you can just... sneak in, if you want" with like the sneakiest smirk and im like UH ! UH ! UHHH!!!! because holy fucking shit no way will wood himself just offered to sneak me into the showing before the one i paid for? i just thanked him and he walked off, i didn't end up sneaking in cuz i had VIP for my actual showing and didnt wanna risk being kicked out of the theater. i mean, im sure will would have had my back but i just did NOT wanna risk it yfeel.

those were kinda the last interactions i had before one of the theater guys told me i probably wanna go stand outside to line up because people were starting to show up for the show i paid for. super cool of him. he walked me outside and i stood at the front, met some very awesome people, chatted for uh idk how long. time was moving so weird i was so excited.

before the line got too long, i noticed will and chris were sitting on a bench a ways down and i was like shit. h. okay. want to interact, i want to get them each to draw a little doodle in this sketchbook i brought. told myself i'd get will to draw a little black cat (had a black cat named jynx that i love and adore and miss so dearly) and chris to draw a little black dog (had a black lab named Q who i also love and adore and miss so dearly) and i knew this was my chance. sure i could do it at the meet-and-greet part of the vip experience i paid for but like. i knew there'd be a line of people and they'd want to expedite the process so i just went for it. i waited for a good window where nobody else was around so they wouldnt be overwhelmed. i, probably in the most sopping wet of a man way, shyly walked up and excused myself, asked if i could talk to them, to which they were both super cool and chill with it. i thanked them for their time, asked them if they could each draw what i was thinking of. will took the marker first while i explained why a black cat was so important and significant to me, and he listened with such genuineness.

i asked will if i could possibly get this tattoo'd one day, and he said “now i’m going to let you know. maybe some day i’ll strip down naked and run down the street saying slurs. so i might be CANCELLED some day. and if you have this on your body you will be called out on twitter. just so you know” which, funniest fucking response ever. what a fuckin king.

after that, i asked chris to draw a lil dawgie. he was much less enthused about having to draw but he DID it, he did like a step by step narration as he drew, ("how did I manage to make it look like a dick and a vagina at the same time") i told him he was doing great and got a very nervous "dont PATRONIZE me!" but it was all in fun and we all got a really good laugh out of that too i think. all in all both REALLY funny guys and good sports.

after that i thanked them both profusely and walked back to my spot in line. i met and chatted with even MORE people until the actual lineup for the show began. will opened the door and ushered us all in, this time in a different theater than the one he was in earlier in the day. this one was past the merch table, i kinda just walked straight past it to the theater because they werent even selling things yet, just getting things set up. everyone else behind me seemed to linger though, so i kinda just like. stood in the doorway of the theater nervously, not knowing what to do.

will walked up and asked me what was wrong, i told him i was nervous and didnt want to go in there by myself since nobody else was following. hes like, "awh, you're not alone! we'll go in there together" to which i knee-jerk replied with "omg we're besties." not the worst thing i could have said but i did feel quite silly, its alright tho he laughed so hopefully it wasnt like. too awkward LMAOOO.

chris was already in the theater waiting, will told me to sit anywhere so i just kinda sat directly at the front (later i'd learn that i picked the seats directly behind chris and will, pretty neat). some announcements were made as people started filing in, then the VIP part started. i once again was first in line, i didnt really have anything more to say or do besides take a picture with them and get them to sign the drawings they'd done earlier. when i popped open the book for chris to sign his dog, he just "jesus i hate looking at this thing". jokes on you chris i love looking at it. its hanging on my wall riiight now. probably wont get it tattoo'd (sorry) but its okay he begged me not to anyway.

i felt kinda silly and im kicking myself for it a bit, but after this photo chris was like "thanks for comin out and supporting us," and then sorta paused like he expected me to fill in the blank and say my name (in hindsight i realized i. NEVER told them my name.) but i was too jittery and overwhelmed by all the people behind us so i just smiled and walked off. i know they probably wouldnt have remembered my name anyway cuz they met so many people that day but, its like damn ! what if !

i went and got popcorn after that and just watched as people filed in and got pics with will n chris, told nice stories and gave gifts, then it was time for the screening itself. before they shut off the lights, will ran down the isle giving everyone high fives, starting with me since i was right at the front. SO fuckin cool.

the rest of the show was just, ykno, watching The Real Will Wood and sometimes getting gags or commentary from chris and will. at one point, when the song 2012 started playing, a guy next to me shouted the loudest "FUCK!" in time with the song. this got will to sit up and slowly turn around with a puzzled look, then he just "nice man" and gave the dude a high five. there was also a funny gag where someone pulled out a lighter and waved it all slow concert-style to Bones, so naturally everyone else pulled out their phone flashlights and it lit up the entire fuckin theatre. will and chris both turned around and just “jesus fucking christ” because it was SO GODDAMN BRIGHT. theres actually a pic of me doing the flashlight thing from will's instagram story LMAOO, i was honestly in a decent amount of his story shots (im the one in the orange shirt). pretty neato.

i didnt get any videos or pictures during the show itself because 1. its a movie. duh. but also cuz my phone was like, RAPIDLY losing battery and i could not risk it dying in case of an emergency. thats alright tho, im okay with the memories of that being in my brain :]

after the show, chris and will thanked everyone and we all sloooowly filed out to the merch table. since i was at the front of the theater, i was one of the last ones out, but thankfully i got the merch i wanted. bought a tshirt and a few albums. met a few people in line that i still talk to every now and then. at the very end, again since i was one of the last ones to the merch line, chris and will were just hanging out thanking people and saying goodnight. since the picture from in the theater kiiinda sucked lighting wise and was a little blurry, i asked if i could take a selfie with them. they were both really cool about it, i thanked them yet again, and then i was off. i sat in a corner charging my phone while i waited for an uber, and that was the day done :]

thank you for letting me ramble, anon, i love thinking about this day. i have chronic bad luck but everything was going right for once and im so thankful for it. i'd love to meet chris and will again some day, they are such genuine and nice people

[dollfacefantasy]

strip poker that leads to threesome with death island older boyfriend leon and his best friend chris?! reader keeps on losing and ends up half naked and left in her panties while leon and chris are both fully clothed 🥹. + degration and daddy kink (for leon) !

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: a game of strip poker with your boyfriend and his friend ends exactly how you'd expect would

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, threesome, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, daddy kink

word count: 3k

a/n + tags: thank you so much for the request babe! i don't really know how to play poker so forgive any errors 🙏 also consider this to be sharing is caring chris & leon. i hope you enjoy how this turned out <3 @nexysworld @gor3-hound @pupthepokemonenthusiast

"That's not fair!" you whine and gesture at the older man sitting to your left at the table.

When your boyfriend had told you he wanted to invite Chris over to hang out this evening, you'd been completely supportive. You were certain this meant they were wanting a replay of the explicit activities that had transpired between the three of you a few weeks prior. You imagined yourself sitting between them at dinner, feeling their lingering gazes, hearing their hinting words. They'd guide you off to the bedroom or even spread you out right there on the table and have their way with you. 

You fantasized about all the possibilities, but one thing that never crossed your mind was that they'd want to play a game of poker. Let alone a game of strip poker.

When Leon pulled out the deck of cards, you'd raised your eyebrows but tentatively agreed. They'd told you that whoever lost a hand would have to remove an article of clothing. You were interested, believing it wouldn't be too long before all three of you were naked and going at it. How wrong you had been though because in reality, it seemed this game did anything but speed things along.

It'd been over an hour, and Chris & Leon were both still fully clothed while you sat in your bra and panties.

What had prompted your outburst of whining was for the first time tonight, someone that wasn't you had lost a hand. You were excited that some progress was being made as Chris stood up to remove a piece of his clothing. But all he did was unbuckle his belt and slip it from between the loops on his jeans.

Both men chuckle at your frustration, and Leon smirks at you.

"Oh, calm down," he says, "Don't be a sore loser."

"It's not being a sore loser when you guys are like openly cheating!" you insist and lean back in your chair.

"How is he cheating, honey? He's removing his clothes isn't he?" he asks you.

"A belt isn't a piece of clothing! You didn't count my necklace when I picked that to take off," you say.

"Chris has to take off his belt to eventually get to his pants. If he had to take off both right now, that wouldn't really be fair," he says, obviously taunting you, "You didn't need to take off that necklace to get to any of your clothes."

"You made me take off both my shoes in one turn," you point out.

"Shoes are in a pair, princess. I only have one belt," Chris adds.

You huff and cross your arms, shooting the both of them with dirty looks. Despite your complaining, the three of you were all on an even playing field at the start of the game. You all had the same amount of items to lose. For the night, you had on your shoes and socks, shirt and skirt, and bra and panties. The guys on the other sides of the table had their shoes and socks, shirt and pants, and belt and underwear. You'd already lost four to put you at your remaining two.

You roll your eyes as Leon deals again, but you sit up to play. As it turns out, Chris coming up short before was a fluke because this time the bad luck was back on you. They both laugh as you throw your cards down and rub your eyes.

"You know, Leon, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you could've just asked instead of drawing it out with this stupid game," you say.

"But it's so much more fun this way," he grins.

You glare at him while standing up to remove your clothing.

"C'mon, sweetheart. What's it gonna be? That cute ass or those gorgeous tits?" Chris taunts, lowering his tone as his words become lecherous.

You can already feel the heat starting to creep into your face. Without a word you reach behind yourself and unclasp your bra, letting the straps slip over your shoulders as you slide the lacy garment down your arms. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you drop it to the floor with your other things.

You're met with a whistle from Leon that cements a flustered expression on your face. Chris wears a smug look, but you can see in his eyes how he enjoys taking in your figure. Your nipples begin to pebble when exposed to the cool air.

"No need to be shy, honey. It's nothing we haven't seen before," your boyfriend teases.

"Just deal again, so we can get this over with," you say.

Sitting down inadvertently pushing your breasts together, making them stand out a bit more as if crying out for attention from either of the sets of hands in the room. It's Chris's turn to deal, but he takes a moment longer to shuffle the cards up since his eyes linger on your chest.

Another round goes by, and it's another round you lose. At least you were out of the game now, but you weren't sure what that meant. The thought of being sent off to your and Leon's room with no reward spun you out of sorts.

"Bullshit! You guys are cheating," you exclaim and drop your cards for the final time.

Both of them laugh at you. Chris shakes his head and takes his winnings from the round while Leon looks over at you.

"Watch your mouth," he says. He's teasing, but he uses a stern tone that zaps arousal right through you, "Remember whose money you're playing with, angel."

You look down when he says that. It was true that you didn't lose anything but your dignity by playing this game. Leon put up the money for the both of you.

"Your money or not, that doesn't change how many times I lost. That's like unnatural amounts of bad luck," you pout.

"Have you ever considered you might just have the worst poker face in the world?" he goads.

"I do not," you respond instantly.

"Oh yes you do," Chris interjects, "You bite your lip whenever you think you can win. Your eyes dart around whenever you feel like you're gonna lose. We can basically read your cards just from hearing your voice."

You scoff at that, but you don't really have a defense. You'd never been a good liar, especially with Leon. He chuckles at the defeat written all over you before leaning a bit closer.

"How about you come sit with me, babydoll? You can be on daddy's team," he says and pats his lap.

The rush that goes through you pulls you from your chair and over to his. He holds your hips, smiling up at you and planting a gentle kiss right above your navel.

"You still lost last round though. Gotta take these off before we can continue," he says and snaps the elastic of your panties.

You drop them to the floor and kick them to the pile of clothing next to your chair. He then takes you in his arms and gets you situated on his thighs. You lean back against his chest while he deals himself and his friend back in.

The first game without you in it is uneventful. You sit with Leon and he occasionally lays a small smooch on your cheekbone, but that's about it. You just watch him play, but at least you're getting some sort of physical contact.

He ends up winning, and Chris slips off his shoes. In a gesture of celebration, his hands come to cover your breasts and give them a squeeze. His fingers dig into the plump flesh, his palms brushing against your hardened nipples.

"You paying attention? Maybe you can learn a thing or two about winning," he murmurs against the skin of your neck.

The next game starts up as Chris sets the deck down between them. This time is a lot more interesting for you. Leon sits there, stoic as ever, but his hand drifts downward. It finds its place between your thighs, his middle digit seeking out the familiar location of your clit.

The invasion causes you to squirm slightly, but a quick pinch to your inner thigh halts your movements. Chris's eyes are switching between his cards and your increasingly aroused appearance. Your boyfriend pays his leering no mind though. The rough pad of his fingertip swirls around your bundle of nerves.

You spread your legs a little to give him more room, and you can feel his face convey his amusement against your head. His fingers rub down over your entrance, dragging some slick up over your clit. His digits slide over it with ease now, flicking back and forth over the tiny bud with lazy precision. You purse your lips to try and stifle your whimpers but little squeaks make it through now and again.

"You don't have to keep quiet, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear, "I think those pretty noises might help daddy win."

He could tell from the way Chris was shifting in his seat that he was starting to get a boner. He was getting aroused himself, but he got you all the time. He had more control. He could stave off a full erection for a little while. His friend on the other hand - he was eager to try you again.

Your head tilts back with permission and a longing breath leaves your lungs. Your breasts rise and fall with the motion, those perky nipples bobbing in a way that nearly hypnotizes Chris. All the while Leon's hand remains dedicated at the apex of your thighs. He strokes you just you like before moving his finger down to your entrance and sliding it in, grinding his palm on your swollen nub simultaneously.

"Fuck daddy," you whimper and roll your hips.

"What is it, baby? Looks like daddy's gonna win, doesn't it?" he purrs.

You nod mindlessly, not paying attention at all to the game. But whatever daddy says goes. That much you knew.

Chris is so enthralled with the sight of you unraveling on his friend's lap that he folds without a second glance at his cards. Your boyfriend chuckles at him while working his finger to the knuckle within you.

"You must have had a pretty rough hand, man," Leon jokes.

Chris's eyes flit to him. "I'm just in the mood for a different kind of fun now," he says.

"You are?" he says. He then turns his gaze to you. "What about you, dolly? You wanna have some fun with daddy's friend now?"

"Yes," you choke out as your back arches away from his chest, his digit pushing up against your internal sweet spot.

"Yeah?" he coos, "What kind? You want Chris in your pussy again? Or something else?"

Decision making isn't your strongest skill while in this frame of mind. You try to come up with an answer. As usual, Leon swoops in for you and makes the save.

"How about you use that pretty mouth on Chris?" he murmurs in your ear, "Suck on his cock while daddy gets his prize for winning."

Chris stands up once the plan is set, his bulge visible at the front of his pants. Leon gestures for him to wait though. Instead of having the older man come to the two of you, he pulls his fingers out of you and spins you around, boosting you back onto the table. You push some of the cards behind you out of the way on your way down. You end up spread across the table, happy that part of your earlier fantasy was now coming true.

Now both men stand, looking down on your nude form and taking in every curve and crux. Leon reaches forward to grope one of your tits again. He gives it a good feel before cupping it and leaning down to press some kisses around the nipple. He kisses from there over to the valley between your breasts and down your tummy. All the affection gives Chris time to shed his pants and boxers and give his cock a few languid tugs.

Leon sits in his chair again, pushing your thighs apart and looking at your glistening cunt. He leans in and kisses your clit with a feather light touch.

"Look at Chris, baby. He's got your treat waiting for you," he mumbles as he wraps his arms around your thighs and delves into his favorite luxury in the world.

You mewl but do as he tells you and turn your head. Waiting for you is Chris's heavy, flushed cock, dripping precum from the swollen tip. Your mouth waters. You'd wanted it bad last time, and now it was all yours. He reaches down to pet your head.

"That look good, princess?" he coos in a low voice.

You nod lazily, your brain fogging up with the mist of lust. Your lips part, and he pushes his hips forward, slotting his length in your mouth. You moan around the shaft, your tongue laving against the veins. His cock was thicker than your boyfriends. The difference thrilled you. You have to stretch your jaw a bit to accommodate him as he works it into your mouth. Your fingers wrap around the part you can't take.

He groans and tilts his head back. He sinks as deep as he can, unable to get enough of that soft, wet orifice.

"Fuck, honey. You're a two for one. Perfect mouth to go with that perfect pussy," he grunts.

You nod lazily and begin bobbing your head best you can while laying on your back. Chris was kind of impressed by your dedication and focus considering Leon was between your legs devouring you as if you were his final meal.

His tongue slides from his mouth and delves into your awaiting entrance. He moans as he tastes you; sweet and rich, completely addictive. As natural as sucking cock came to you, Leon's propensity to eat pussy seemed to be innate. He keeps you pressed against his face, eating you out like you're the finest delicacy he's ever tasted.

The intensity of his efforts have you whining and drooling on Chris's dick, but you keep sucking. The older man's fingers soothingly rub the back of your neck and help to guide you and pace you. Pulling back a bit, you suckle on the tip and kitten lick the head, making him grit his teeth and will himself not to blow his load right there.

"Your daddy's taught you well, babydoll," he pants before pushing you forward again till his tip nudges the back of your throat.

Both you and Leon moan when you hear that. He laps at your cunt with increased fervor now. He flattens his tongue and laves it over your throbbing clit before wrapping his lips around the little bud. You jolt and your legs jerk, but his hold on you is firm.

"Let daddy have his prize, sweet girl. Wanna taste that cum," he mutters before returning all of his attention back to your pussy.

Your whole body shudders, but you keep going for Chris. He runs his free hand through his hair and wipes at the sweat beading on his brow.

"Don't think I'm gonna last too much longer, Leon," he informs the other man.

"She won't either," he tells him, indirectly giving him the go ahead to do as he pleases.

Chris moans while beginning to rock his hips back and forth. His thrusts stay gentle, but they're just what he needs to start working him to the edge. Meanwhile Leon has your hips and legs squirming as if they're running from the release destined to catch them. He keeps you in place and keeps twirling his tongue against you.

It's Chris who cums first. His eyes flutter closed and his hips sputter, making sure he's nice and deep in your mouth when ropes of cum fire out of him. He moans and fucks it all into your awaiting throat. It's warm and sticky, and you swallow it like the good girl you are.

His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you. He's slow to pull out. When he finally does, the tip rests against your lips and you give it a few kisses. A string of saliva connects the two things when he backs away for a moment to catch his breath.

As he calms down, you spiral further into the pits of euphoria. Your back arches off the table and you claw at it so much you feel like there's gonna be scratch marks when you're finished. Leon keeps on with his task like he's being paid. He strikes the perfect balance between playing with your clit and teasing your insides that has you cumming minutes later.

Chris watches from above as you yelp. He takes in every little switch of expression on your face. Leaning down from behind you, he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips. He captures all your lewd moans and whimpers. His nose brushes against your chin as his lips move with yours.

He cups and rubs your cheeks as you come down. Leon's movements slow down until he gives your cunt one last sloppy, lingering kiss and pulls away. Your slick covers his chin. He doesn't wipe it away before standing up and bending over to kiss you himself. You taste your pleasure on him.

Your head is still spinning as the men help you sit up on the table. Gentle touches come from all directions it seems, and you're barely able to discern who's who. It's a blissful confusion, and you wouldn't trade the feeling for anything. 

When your eyes refocus, your boyfriend's gaze back into yours. Chris's lips are on your neck, laying tender kisses up the column of your throat. Leon smirks at you as his finger runs down his jawline.

"Let's go upstairs, baby. I haven't fully enjoyed my winnings yet," he whispers before carting you off to the bedroom with Chris following behind.

[ladyeckland28]

The Lost Girls

Inspired by the Lost Boys film

The cast

@samcrosfaith as Samantha

@raceyrhymes as Rhymes

@smallzster as Alicia

@marleyelona as Chloe

Emily Chen 18 (adopted daughter)

@solesofwonder as Yvonne and Trisha (Emily's mother's)

@horrorseventhree as Joe

@glennriley49 as erm...himself

@ladyeckland28 as Headmistress Blackwood

The neon lights of the fairground pulsed against the night sky, a kaleidoscope of color bleeding into the inky darkness. The air was thick with the scent of cotton candy and grease, punctuated by the shrieks of thrill-seekers on rides and the tinny music from carnival games. West Hollow's annual summer fair was in full swing, drawing crowds from the sleepy town and beyond.

Near the outskirts of the fair, where the glow of the lights began to fade and the roar of the crowd became a distant murmur, a group of young men stumbled between attractions. Their laughter was too loud, their movements uncoordinated – telltale signs of one too many beers at the fair's beer garden.

"Jake, my man," slurred one of the guys, throwing an arm around his friend's shoulder. "This fair's dead. Where're all the hot chicks at?"

Jake, the apparent leader of the group, smirked. His eyes, glassy from alcohol, scanned the thinning crowd. "Patience, Brea-man. The night's young."

As if on cue, a group of girls emerged from the shadows cast by a defunct Ferris wheel. They moved with an otherworldly grace, their pale skin luminescent under the sparse lighting. Each was dressed in black, a mix of leather, lace, and fishnet that clung to their curves like a second skin. Their hair, dyed in various shades of midnight, framed faces adorned with dark makeup and knowing smiles.

The guys fell silent, their drunken bravado momentarily forgotten as they stared at the gothic beauties.

"Holy shit," whispered Braden, his arm falling from Jake's shoulder. "Are you seeing this?"

Jake nodded, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "Oh yeah. Looks like our luck just changed, boys."

The girls sauntered past, close enough that the sweet scent of their perfume wafted over the group. One of them, a statuesque blonde with streaks of black in her hair, turned her head and winked at Jake.

"Let's go," Jake said, pushing off from the railing he'd been leaning on. His friends followed, drawn like moths to a flame.

The girls led them on a meandering path through the fair, always just out of reach. They'd pause at a game booth, giggling among themselves, only to disappear into the crowd as the guys approached. It was a tantalizing dance, one that led them further and further from the heart of the fair.

Finally, at the very edge of the fairground where the manicured grass gave way to wild beach grass, the girls stopped. There were four of them – the tall blonde, a petite redhead with a pixie cut, a curvy brunette with a septum piercing, and a raven-haired beauty with striking green eyes.

"Thought you boys would never catch up," the blonde purred, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Jake stepped forward, puffing out his chest. "We're faster than we look. I'm Jake. These are my buddies – Braden, Chris, and Tyler."

The blonde's lips curled into a smile. "I'm Samantha. This is Rhymes," she gestured to the redhead, "Chloe," the brunette, "and Alicia," the raven-haired girl.

"Nice to meet you ladies," Jake said, his eyes roving over Samantha's form. "What brings you to our little town's fair?"

Samantha exchanged a glance with her friends, a silent communication passing between them. "Oh, you know," she said, turning back to Jake, "just looking for some... excitement."

Braden, emboldened by the alcohol and the girls' attention, stepped forward. "Well, you've come to the right place. We know how to show a good time, don't we boys?"

The other guys nodded, grinning.

Rhymes, the petite redhead, cocked her head to the side. "Is that so? And what kind of good time did you have in mind?"

There was something in her tone, a subtle challenge that sent a shiver down Chris's spine. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jake cut him off.

"How about we get out of here?" Jake suggested, his eyes never leaving Samantha's. "There's a nice quiet spot down on the beach. We could have our own private party."

Samantha's smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "That sounds... perfect. Lead the way, Jake."

As they made their way down to the beach, the sounds of the fair faded away, replaced by the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The moon hung low and full in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the sand.

Jake led them to a secluded cove, sheltered by large rocks that jutted out from the cliff face. It was a spot well-known to local teens – far enough from prying eyes to engage in illicit activities, but close enough to civilization to feel safe.

"So," Tyler said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. "You girls from around here? Don't think I've seen you before."

Alicia, who had been quiet until now, laughed softly. The sound was like bells tinkling in the wind. "Oh, we've been around. You just haven't been looking in the right places."

There was something in her words, a double meaning that Tyler couldn't quite grasp. He furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it through his alcohol-addled mind.

Chloe sidled up to Chris, running a finger down his arm. "You look tense, sweetie. Why don't we help you boys relax a little?"

Before Chris could respond, Chloe's lips were on his, kissing him with a passion that made his head spin. Around him, he dimly registered his friends similarly engaged with the other girls.

Jake pulled away from Samantha, breathless. There was a hunger in her eyes that both thrilled and unnerved him. "Damn," he muttered. "You girls don't waste time, do you?"

Samantha chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Life's too short to waste time, don't you think? Especially when the night holds so many... possibilities."

As she spoke, she began to unbutton Jake's shirt, her fingers cool against his flushed skin. Jake's heart raced, a mix of excitement and an inexplicable fear coursing through his veins.

Nearby, Braden was locked in an embrace with Rhymes. Her small stature belied her strength as she pushed him up against one of the rocks. "Wait," Braden gasped, coming up for air. "I don't even know anything about you."

Rhymes paused, her eyes glittering in the moonlight. "What do you want to know, Braden? That we're not from around here? That we have a taste for adventure? Or perhaps..." she leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear, "that we're not quite what we seem?"

Braden shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin despite the warm summer night. "What do you mean?"

But Rhymes didn't answer. Instead, she resumed kissing him, more insistently this time. Braden felt his concerns melting away under her touch, replaced by a hazy pleasure.

Tyler, meanwhile, found himself transfixed by Alicia's green eyes. They seemed to glow in the darkness, drawing him in. "Your eyes," he murmured. "They're so... beautiful."

Alicia smiled, revealing a flash of something that looked almost like fangs. But that couldn't be right, Tyler thought. Must be a trick of the light.

"Thank you, Tyler," Alicia said, her voice soft and melodic. "They're even more beautiful up close. Would you like to see?"

Before Tyler could respond, Alicia had pulled him close, her eyes filling his vision. He felt himself falling into their depths, all thoughts of resistance fading away.

Chris, who had been lost in Chloe's passionate kisses, suddenly pulled back with a gasp. "Ow!" he exclaimed, bringing a hand to his neck. "Did you just bite me?"

Chloe's eyes widened in faux innocence. "Did I? I'm so sorry, I got carried away." She leaned in again, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Let me kiss it better."

As Chloe's lips met his neck again, Chris felt a moment of sharp pain followed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure. His eyelids grew heavy, his body relaxing into Chloe's embrace.

Back with Jake and Samantha, things were escalating quickly. Jake found himself on his back in the sand, Samantha straddling him. Her blonde hair fell around them like a curtain, blocking out the world.

"Jake," Samantha purred, her face inches from his. "Do you believe in monsters?"

Jake laughed nervously. "What kind of question is that?"

Samantha's smile was predatory. "The kind that might save your life... or end it." She lowered her head to his neck, her breath hot against his skin. "Last chance, Jake. Do you believe?"

Before Jake could answer, a scream pierced the night. He jerked his head to the side, trying to see past Samantha. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Braden was on the ground, Rhymes crouched over him. But it wasn't Rhymes as he had known her. Her face was transformed, inhuman. Elongated canines glinted in the moonlight, dripping with what could only be blood.

Similar scenes played out around them. Tyler lay motionless at Alicia's feet, while Chris weakly struggled in Chloe's iron grip.

"What the fuck?" Jake yelled, trying to push Samantha off. But she didn't budge. Instead, she grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head with inhuman strength.

"Oh, Jake," Samantha sighed, her face transforming before his eyes. "You really should have believed in monsters."

As Samantha's fangs descended towards his throat, Jake's scream joined those of his friends, only to be swallowed by the crash of waves against the shore. The fairground lights continued to twinkle in the distance, oblivious to the horror unfolding on the moonlit beach.

In the aftermath, as the girls disposed of the evidence of their feast, Samantha turned to her companions. "Well, ladies, that was a satisfying appetizer. But remember, we're here for a bigger purpose."

Alicia nodded, wiping a smear of blood from her chin. "The Lost Girls. It's almost time."

"Indeed," Samantha agreed, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "West Hollow won't know what hit it. Our true hunt begins now."

As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, the four girls vanished into the shadows, leaving behind no trace of the night's dark events. The fairground stood silent, its bright lights now dim and lifeless, unaware that it had bore witness to the beginning of a terror that would soon engulf the entire town of West Hollow.

****

The U-Haul truck rumbled down the tree-lined street, its engine a stark contrast to the quiet suburban backdrop of West Hollow. Trisha gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white, as she navigated the unfamiliar roads. In the passenger seat, Yvonne consulted a map, occasionally glancing up to scan the house numbers.

"It should be just up ahead," Yvonne said, her voice tinged with excitement and apprehension in equal measure.

In the backseat, Emily sat with her headphones on, her dark-rimmed eyes fixed on the passing scenery. At sixteen, the prospect of starting over in a new town filled her with a mixture of dread and cautious hope.

The truck slowed to a stop in front of a modest two-story house with faded blue siding and a wrap-around porch. For a moment, the family sat in silence, taking in their new home.

Trisha was the first to speak. "Well, this is it. Our fresh start."

Yvonne reached over and squeezed her wife's hand. "It's perfect, honey."

Emily pulled off her headphones. "It looks... old," she said, her tone neutral.

Trisha twisted in her seat to face her daughter. "It has character, Em. And it's ours. No more renting, no more moving every couple of years. This is home now."

Emily nodded, not quite meeting her mother's eyes. "Yeah, I guess."

As they climbed out of the truck, the late summer sun beat down on them. The air was thick with humidity, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and something else – a faint, metallic tang that Emily couldn't quite place.

A middle-aged woman emerged from the house next door, waving enthusiastically. "Welcome to the neighborhood!" she called out, making her way over to them. "I'm Barbara, I live next door with my husband, Tom."

Trisha and Yvonne introduced themselves and Emily, who managed a weak smile and a mumbled hello.

"Oh, you have a daughter!" Barbara exclaimed. "How wonderful. We don't have many young people in the neighborhood anymore. Not since..." She trailed off, her smile faltering for a moment before brightening again. "Well, never mind that. I'm sure Emily will make plenty of friends at West Hollow High. It's a great school, especially the sixth form."

As her parents chatted with Barbara, Emily wandered towards the house, studying its weathered exterior. Something about the place felt off, but she couldn't put her finger on what. A movement in one of the upper windows caught her eye – a flicker of a curtain, as if someone had been watching and quickly moved away. But that was impossible. The house was empty.

Wasn't it?

The next few days passed in a blur of unpacking boxes and arranging furniture. Emily spent most of her time in her new room, pinning posters of her favorite bands to the walls and arranging her collection of crystals and tarot cards on her dresser.

On the night before her first day at West Hollow High, Emily lay in bed, unable to sleep. The house creaked and settled around her, unfamiliar noises that set her nerves on edge. She could hear her parents talking in low voices downstairs, their words indistinct but their tone worried.

Morning came too soon. Emily stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her choker and smudging her eyeliner. She had opted for her usual all-black ensemble – ripped jeans, a band t-shirt, and combat boots. If she was going to be the new kid, she might as well own it. It was sixth form and it was only for a year. After that it was college and then uni. Her step parents had it all worked out.

"Emily!" Trisha called from downstairs. "You're going to be late!"

With a sigh, Emily grabbed her backpack and headed down. Trisha and Yvonne were waiting in the kitchen, matching forced smiles on their faces.

"Ready for your big day, sweetie?" Yvonne asked, holding out a piece of toast.

Emily took the toast but didn't eat it. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

Trisha pulled her into a hug. "You'll do great, Em. Just be yourself."

The drive to school was short and quiet. As they pulled up to the imposing brick building of West Hollow High, Emily felt her stomach churn with anxiety.

"Do you want us to come in with you?" Trisha asked.

Emily shook her head quickly. "No, I've got it. Thanks, Mom. Bye, Ma."

She climbed out of the car before they could say anything else, squared her shoulders, and walked towards the school entrance.

The hallways were a cacophony of slamming lockers, squeaking sneakers, and overlapping conversations. Emily felt eyes on her as she made her way to the office, whispers following in her wake.

After collecting her schedule and a map of the school, Emily set out to find her first class. She was so focused on the map that she didn't notice the girl in front of her until they collided.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Emily stammered, bending to help the girl pick up her scattered books.

"No worries," the girl said with a laugh. "I wasn't looking where I was going either." She stood up, revealing a friendly face framed by wild curls. "I'm Zoe. You must be new here."

Emily nodded. "Is it that obvious?"

"Small town," Zoe shrugged. "We don't get many new faces. I'm guessing you're Emily? My mom mentioned a new family moving in down the street."

"Yeah, that's me," Emily confirmed, relaxing slightly. "Um, could you help me find room 205? This map is useless."

Zoe grinned. "Sure thing. That's actually my next class too. Come on, I'll show you."

As they walked, Zoe kept up a steady stream of chatter, filling Emily in on the ins and outs of West Hollow High. Emily found herself grateful for the friendly face, even if Zoe's peppy demeanor was a stark contrast to her own.

The morning passed in a blur of new faces and information overload. By the time lunch rolled around, Emily's head was spinning. She followed the crowd to the cafeteria, tray in hand, scanning the room for an empty table.

"Emily! Over here!" Zoe's voice cut through the din. Emily spotted her waving from a table near the windows and made her way over.

"Hey," Emily said, sliding into an empty seat. "Thanks for saving me from the new kid lunch trauma."

Zoe laughed. "No problem. Oh, guys, this is Emily. She just moved here. Emily, this is the crew – Javier, Mia, and Derek."

Emily nodded to each of them in turn, noting their curious stares. Javier, a lanky boy with an easy smile, was the first to speak up.

"So, Emily, what brings you to the thrilling metropolis of West Hollow?"

Emily shrugged, pushing her food around her plate. "My moms got tired of the city. Wanted somewhere quieter to settle down."

"Moms?" Mia echoed, her eyebrows raising slightly.

Emily tensed, prepared for the usual awkward questions or thinly veiled judgement. But Mia just smiled. "Cool. My aunt and her wife just adopted a baby. They live over in Millbrook."

Feeling herself relax slightly, Emily managed a small smile in return.

As lunch progressed, the conversation flowed more easily. Emily found herself laughing at Derek's terrible puns and joining in Mia's passionate defense of the latest superhero movie. For a moment, she allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this move wouldn't be so bad after all.

But as she was leaving the cafeteria, a chill ran down her spine. She turned to see a group of girls watching her from across the room. They stood apart from the crowd, an aura of mystery surrounding them. Each was dressed in black, their style a mix of goth and punk that made Emily's outfit look tame in comparison.

"Who are they?" Emily asked Zoe, nodding towards the group.

Zoe followed her gaze and frowned. "Oh, them. That's Samantha and her friends. They mostly keep to themselves. Kind of the local bad girls, you know? I'd steer clear if I were you."

But Emily couldn't look away. There was something magnetic about them, something that called to the part of her that had always felt like an outsider. As if sensing her thoughts, one of the girls – a tall blonde who Emily assumed must be Samantha – met her gaze and smiled. It was a knowing smile, one that seemed to say, "We see you. We know you."

Emily quickly looked away, her heart pounding. She couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had just happened, though she couldn't have explained why.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Emily found her thoughts returning again and again to Samantha and her friends. By the time the final bell rang, she had made up her mind to try and talk to them.

But as she exited the school, they were nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, Emily made her way to where Trisha was waiting to pick her up.

"How was your first day, sweetie?" Trisha asked as Emily climbed into the car.

"It was... interesting," Emily replied, her mind still on the mysterious group of girls.

That night, as Emily lay in bed, she found herself unable to sleep once again. The house seemed to creak more than usual, and shadows danced on her walls in patterns that didn't quite make sense.

Just as she was about to give up and grab a book, a sound from outside caught her attention. It was faint, barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning, but unmistakable – the rev of a motorcycle engine.

Emily crept to her window, peering out into the darkness. There, at the end of the street, she saw them. Four motorcycles, their riders dressed in black. Even from this distance, she recognized Samantha's blonde hair gleaming in the moonlight.

As if sensing her gaze, Samantha looked up, straight at Emily's window. For a moment, their eyes met across the distance. Then, with another rev of engines, the group sped off into the night.

Emily stumbled back from the window, her heart racing. What were they doing out so late? And why did she feel so drawn to them?

As she climbed back into bed, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that her life in West Hollow was about to get a lot more complicated – and a lot more interesting.

Downstairs, unbeknownst to Emily, Trisha and Yvonne sat at the kitchen table, worry etched on their faces.

"I don't like it, Trish," Yvonne was saying, her voice low. "Did you see the way people looked at us in town today? Like they knew something we didn't."

Trisha reached across the table, taking her wife's hand. "It's just small-town curiosity, love. We're new, that's all."

But Yvonne shook her head. "It's more than that. And those missing person posters we saw? In a town this size?"

"Every place has its problems," Trisha argued, but there was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

"Maybe," Yvonne conceded. "But I can't shake this feeling. Like we've made a terrible mistake coming here."

As if in response, a gust of wind rattled the windows, making both women jump. Outside, unseen, a figure stood watching the house, its eyes gleaming in the darkness. West Hollow held its secrets close, but soon, very soon, the newest residents would learn the truth about their new home – whether they wanted to or not.

*****

The weekend arrived with an unusual chill in the air, despite the lingering summer heat. Yvonne stood at the kitchen window, cradling a mug of coffee and watching as a thick fog rolled in from the nearby woods, shrouding the neighborhood in an eerie white veil.

"Everything okay, hon?" Trisha asked, coming up behind her wife and wrapping her arms around her waist.

Yvonne leaned back into the embrace. "Just thinking. The car's been making that strange noise again. We should probably get it checked out before it becomes a real problem."

Trisha nodded. "I saw a mechanic's shop in town when I was out yesterday. Sullivan's Auto, I think it was called. Want to head over there this morning?"

An hour later, they pulled into the gravel driveway of Sullivan's Auto. The shop was set back from the main road, partially hidden by overgrown bushes and a cluster of gnarled oak trees. The building itself was a weathered structure that had clearly seen better days, its faded red paint peeling in large patches.

As they got out of the car, the only sound was the crunch of gravel under their feet and the distant cawing of crows. The silence was oppressive, making both women unconsciously lower their voices.

"Hello?" Trisha called out. "Anyone here?"

A loud clang from inside the shop made them both jump. Moments later, a man emerged, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. He was tall and lean, with steel-gray hair and a face weathered by time and hard living. His piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through them.

"Can I help you?" His voice was gruff, tinged with suspicion.

Yvonne stepped forward. "Are you Mr. Sullivan? We're new in town, and our car's been acting up. We were hoping you could take a look."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly. "Joe Sullivan," he confirmed with a nod. "You must be the new folks who moved into the old Hawthorne place."

Trisha and Yvonne exchanged a glance. They hadn't mentioned where they lived.

"News travels fast in a small town," Joe said, as if reading their thoughts. He moved towards their car, his limp barely noticeable. "Pop the hood, let's see what we're dealing with."

As Joe leaned over the engine, Trisha struck up a conversation. "So, Mr. Sullivan, how long have you lived in West Hollow?"

"All my life," he grunted, not looking up. "Seen this town through good times and bad."

"And which would you say these are?" Yvonne asked, unable to keep a note of tension from her voice.

Joe straightened up, fixing them with an unreadable stare. "Ma'am, every town has its secrets. West Hollow's no different. But if you're smart, you'll keep your heads down and your doors locked at night."

A chill ran down Trisha's spine. "What do you mean?"

Joe sighed, suddenly looking much older. "Look, I don't mean to scare you. But things have been... off in this town for a while now. People going missing, strange noises in the woods at night. Most folks pretend not to notice, but..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"But what?" Yvonne pressed.

Joe's voice dropped to a near whisper. "But some of us know the truth. This town, it's not what it seems. There's something out there, something old and hungry. And it's waking up."

Before either woman could respond, a loud bang echoed from inside the shop. Joe's head snapped around, his body tensing.

"You should go," he said urgently. "Your car's fine, just needs an oil change. Come back next week, I'll take care of it."

"But-" Trisha began.

"Go," Joe insisted, already backing towards the shop. "And remember what I said. Keep your doors locked."

As they drove away, Yvonne and Trisha sat in stunned silence. Finally, Trisha spoke. "What the hell was that about?"

Yvonne shook her head, her earlier unease now a full-blown worry. "I don't know, but I think we need to have a serious talk about this town."

Meanwhile, across town at West Hollow High, Emily was having troubles of her own. She stood outside the headmistress's office, her heart pounding. She'd been summoned during lunch, with no explanation given.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

"Enter," came a sharp voice from inside.

Emily stepped into the office, immediately struck by how dark it was. Heavy curtains blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving only a dim lamp on the desk to illuminate the room. Behind the desk sat Headmistress Blackwood, a severe-looking woman with steel-gray hair pulled back in a tight bun.

"Miss Chen," Headmistress Blackwood said, her voice cold. "Please, sit down."

Emily sank into the chair opposite the desk, trying to quell her rising panic. "Have I done something wrong, Headmistress?"

"That remains to be seen," Blackwood replied, fixing Emily with a penetrating stare. "It has come to my attention that you've been... asking questions. About the history of our town, about certain... incidents."

Emily's mind raced. She had been curious about the town's past, especially after overhearing some upperclassmen whispering about a series of disappearances years ago. But she hadn't thought her questions were out of line.

"I'm just trying to understand my new home," Emily said carefully.

Blackwood's eyes narrowed. "Some things, Miss Chen, are better left alone. This town has traditions, rules. Those who don't abide by them often find themselves... unwelcome."

The threat in her words was unmistakable. Emily felt a chill run down her spine.

"Now," Blackwood continued, her voice softening to a dangerous purr, "why don't you tell me exactly what you've heard, and from whom?"

Emily opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, when suddenly the door burst open. Samantha strode in, flanked by her friends – the goth girls Emily had been watching all week.

"Sorry to interrupt, Headmistress," Samantha said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "But Emily's needed for an urgent student council matter. You understand, I'm sure."

Before Blackwood could respond, Samantha had grabbed Emily's arm and pulled her out of the chair. In a daze, Emily found herself swept out of the office and down the hall.

Once they were a safe distance away, Samantha released her arm. "You okay?" she asked, her tough exterior softening slightly.

Emily nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks for the save."

Samantha exchanged glances with her friends. "Look, Emily, we've been watching you. You're not like the other sheep in this town. You see things, don't you? Things that don't quite add up?"

Emily hesitated, then nodded slowly. "There's something... off about this place. I can feel it."

One of the other girls, a petite redhead with multiple piercings, spoke up. "I'm Rhymes. This is Chloe and Alicia," she said, gesturing to the other two – a tall, willowy girl with jet-black hair and a curvy blonde with a sleeve of tattoos.

"We're like you, Emily," Chloe said, her voice soft but intense. "We know the truth about West Hollow. And we think it's time you knew too."

Emily's heart raced with a mixture of fear and excitement. "What truth?"

Samantha looked around, ensuring they were alone in the hallway. "Not here. Meet us tonight, at midnight. The old oak tree at the edge of Willow Park. We'll explain everything."

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Emily's mind was reeling. She barely noticed Zoe falling into step beside her as she headed for the exit.

"Earth to Emily," Zoe said, waving a hand in front of her face. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Emily blinked, focusing on her friend. "Yeah, sorry. Just... a weird day."

Zoe's brow furrowed with concern. "Did something happen? Was it those goth girls? I saw them talking to you earlier."

"It's nothing," Emily said quickly. Too quickly.

Zoe stopped, putting a hand on Emily's arm. "Em, be careful, okay? Those girls... there are rumors about them. Weird stuff. I know you're probably just trying to fit in, but-"

"You don't know anything about them," Emily snapped, immediately regretting her harsh tone. "I'm sorry, Zoe. I'm just tired. I'll see you Monday, okay?"

Before Zoe could respond, Emily hurried away, leaving her friend staring after her with a mixture of hurt and worry.

The hours until midnight crawled by with agonizing slowness. Emily lay in bed, fully dressed, listening to the sounds of the house settling around her. When her phone finally showed 11:45, she eased her window open and climbed out onto the porch roof.

The night was unusually cold for early fall, and a thick mist had settled over the town. Emily shivered as she made her way through the deserted streets, the fog muffling her footsteps.

As she approached Willow Park, she saw four shadowy figures standing beneath a massive oak tree. Her heart pounded as she drew closer.

"You came," Samantha said, a note of approval in her voice. "Good. Are you ready to learn the truth about West Hollow?"

Emily nodded, her mouth dry. "I'm ready."

Rhymes stepped forward, holding out a small, ornate dagger. "Then let's begin."

For a moment, fear gripped Emily. But as she looked into the eyes of these girls – these outsiders like herself – she felt a sense of belonging she'd never experienced before.

With only a slight hesitation, she took the dagger.

Samantha smiled, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "Welcome to the pack, Emily. Your life is about to change forever."

As the girls led Emily deeper into the misty park, none of them noticed the figure watching from the shadows. Joe Sullivan leaned heavily on his cane, his weathered face creased with worry.

"So it begins again," he muttered to himself. "God help us all."

Back at the Chen house, Yvonne sat at the kitchen table, a collection of newspaper clippings spread out before her. Headlines about missing persons, unexplained animal attacks, and strange sightings in the woods around West Hollow stared up at her.

Trisha entered the kitchen, yawning. "Babe, it's late. Come to bed."

Yvonne looked up, her eyes wild. "Trish, I think we've made a terrible mistake moving here. Look at all this. Something is very wrong with this town."

Trisha sighed, sitting down next to her wife. "I know. After what Joe said today... I can't ignore it anymore. But what do we do?"

"We need to talk to Emily," Yvonne said firmly. "Make sure she understands the danger. Maybe... maybe we should think about moving again."

Trisha nodded slowly. "Okay. We'll talk to her in the morning. For now, let's try to get some sleep."

As they headed upstairs, a cold breeze swept through the kitchen, scattering the newspaper clippings. Outside, a long, mournful howl echoed in the distance, sending shivers down both women's spines.

In Emily's empty room, the window stood open, curtains billowing in the night air. On her desk, a hastily scribbled note read: "Don't worry. I'm where I belong now."

The mist thickened around the house, as if trying to obscure the secrets that lay hidden in the heart of West Hollow. For Emily, for her parents, and for the town itself, everything was about to change. The old hunger was awakening, and the night was only beginning.

****

The mist swirled around Emily's ankles as she followed Samantha and the others deeper into the woods. The darkness seemed to press in on all sides, broken only by the occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the canopy above. Despite the chill in the air, Emily felt a warmth spreading through her body – a mixture of excitement, fear, and something else she couldn't quite name.

"We're almost there," Samantha said, glancing back at Emily with a reassuring smile. In the dim light, her eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly intensity.

As they pushed through a dense thicket of bushes, Emily gasped. Before them stretched a small, secluded beach, the waves lapping gently at the shore. To their right, partially hidden by an outcropping of rocks, was the mouth of a cave.

"Welcome to our sanctuary," Raven said, her voice filled with pride.

The girls led Emily towards the cave entrance. As they drew closer, she noticed strange symbols carved into the rocks – twisting, intricate designs that seemed to shift and change when she wasn't looking directly at them.

"Those are protection runes," Lydia explained, noticing Emily's gaze. "They keep out anyone who doesn't belong."

Emily swallowed hard. "And... I belong?"

Samantha turned to her, eyes shining. "You always have, Emily. You just didn't know it yet."

Inside, the cave opened up into a surprisingly large chamber. Candles flickered in niches along the walls, casting dancing shadows across the rough stone surfaces. In the center of the room was a large, circular table made of dark wood, its surface covered in strange markings. Shelves lined one wall, filled with old books, jars of mysterious substances, and various arcane-looking objects.

Ava moved to a small alcove and returned with several glasses and a bottle filled with dark liquid. "A toast," she said, pouring generous amounts into each glass. "To our newest sister."

Emily accepted the glass hesitantly. The liquid inside was thick and had an oddly metallic smell. "What is it?"

"An ancient recipe," Samantha said, raising her own glass. "It opens the mind to new possibilities. Drink, Emily. Embrace your true self."

Peer pressure and curiosity won out over caution. Emily raised the glass to her lips and drank deeply. The liquid burned as it went down, leaving a coppery aftertaste. Almost immediately, she felt a warmth spreading through her body, followed by a pleasant lightheadedness.

"Good," Samantha murmured, stroking Emily's hair in an almost motherly gesture. "Now, let us show you the truth about West Hollow – and about yourself."

The next few hours passed in a blur for Emily. The girls showed her ancient tomes filled with spells and incantations, explaining how the power that flowed through the town had been there long before the first settlers arrived. They spoke of old gods and older magics, of a hunger that slumbered beneath the earth, waiting to be awakened.

As the night wore on, Emily found herself drawn more and more to Samantha. The older girl seemed to radiate an aura of power and confidence that Emily found intoxicating. Samantha, in turn, treated Emily with a mix of affection and possessiveness, always keeping her close, always watching her with those intense eyes.

"You're special, Emily," Samantha whispered at one point, her lips close to Emily's ear. "I knew it from the moment I saw you. You're going to help us change everything."

The words sent a shiver down Emily's spine – whether from excitement or fear, she couldn't tell anymore.

As the candles burned low and the first hints of dawn began to lighten the sky outside, Samantha led Emily to a small, circular pool of water at the back of the cave. The surface was mirror-smooth, reflecting the flickering candlelight.

"It's time for the final step," Samantha said, her voice taking on a ritualistic cadence. "Look into the pool, Emily. See your true self."

Emily leaned over the water, her head swimming from the strange drink and the night's revelations. At first, she saw only her own reflection, pale and wide-eyed. But then the image began to ripple and change. Her eyes grew darker, her features sharper. For a moment – just a moment – she thought she saw something else entirely looking back at her, something with glowing eyes and too many teeth.

She jerked back with a gasp, her heart pounding. "What... what was that?"

Samantha's smile was enigmatic. "That, my dear Emily, was your potential. Your power. And now, it's time to claim it."

The other girls formed a circle around Emily and Samantha. They began to chant in a language Emily didn't recognize, their voices rising and falling in an eerie harmony. The air in the cave seemed to thicken, pressing in on Emily from all sides.

Samantha pulled Emily close, one hand on the back of her neck. "This may hurt a little," she whispered. "But I promise, it's worth it."

Before Emily could react, Samantha's lips were on her neck. There was a sharp pain, and then... bliss. A wave of pleasure and power unlike anything she'd ever felt before washed over her. Emily's vision blurred, the cave spinning around her as she sank into the sensation.

The last thing she remembered was Samantha's voice, seeming to come from very far away: "Sleep now, little sister. When you wake, everything will be different."

* * *

Emily jolted awake, her heart racing. She was in her own bed, sunlight streaming through the window. For a moment, she lay there, disoriented and confused. Had it all been a dream?

As she sat up, a wave of nausea hit her. Her head pounded, and her entire body ached as if she'd run a marathon. Stumbling to the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and looked in the mirror.

Her reflection stared back at her, pale and drawn. But there was something different about her eyes – a depth that hadn't been there before, a hint of something wild and untamed. As she tilted her head, she noticed something on her neck. Two small puncture marks, surrounded by a dark bruise.

The events of the night came rushing back in a confused jumble of images and sensations. The cave, the strange drink, Samantha's lips on her neck... but how had she gotten home? Why couldn't she remember?

A movement outside her window caught her attention. Peering out, she saw a figure standing in the shadows across the street – Joe Sullivan, the mechanic. He was watching her house intently, leaning heavily on his cane. When he saw her in the window, his eyes widened, and he quickly turned and limped away.

Emily's stomach churned, a mixture of fear and something else – something hungry. She stumbled back to her bed, her mind reeling. What had happened to her? What had Samantha and the others done?

As she curled up under the covers, trying to make sense of it all, she heard her mothers' voices drifting up from downstairs. They sounded worried, agitated. Emily realized with a start that she had no idea what time it was or how long she'd been gone.

Forcing herself to her feet, she made her way downstairs. Yvonne and Trisha were in the kitchen, surrounded by papers and looking as if they hadn't slept.

"Emily!" Yvonne exclaimed when she saw her. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick!"

Emily opened her mouth to explain, but found she didn't know what to say. How could she possibly tell them about the cave, about Samantha and the others, about the strange ritual?

"I... I'm sorry," she managed. "I went for a walk last night and must have lost track of time. I didn't mean to worry you."

Trisha and Yvonne exchanged a look that Emily couldn't quite decipher.

"Sit down, honey," Trisha said gently. "We need to talk."

As Emily sank into a chair, she noticed the papers spread across the table – newspaper clippings, printouts of old articles. Her eyes caught phrases like "unexplained disappearances" and "animal attacks."

"What's all this?" she asked, her mouth dry.

Yvonne took a deep breath. "Emily, we think... we think there's something wrong with this town. Something dangerous. We're worried about you, about all of us."

"We've been looking into the history of West Hollow," Trisha added. "There are patterns here, going back decades. People disappearing, strange events that no one can explain. And it all seems to center around a group of families that have been here since the town was founded."

Emily's heart raced. She thought of Samantha and the others, of the ancient books in the cave, of the power they had promised her. "What... what are you saying?"

"We're saying that we think it might be best if we leave West Hollow," Yvonne said firmly. "Start fresh somewhere else. Somewhere safe."

A surge of panic rose in Emily's chest. Leave? She couldn't leave, not now. Not when she was just beginning to understand who – and what – she truly was.

"No!" she said, more forcefully than she'd intended. Both her mothers looked at her in surprise. "I mean... we can't just run away because of some old stories. This is our home now. We belong here."

The words felt right as she said them, even as a part of her wondered where they had come from. She did belong here, didn't she? Samantha had said so.

Trisha reached out and took Emily's hand. "Sweetheart, we know this is hard. But your safety is the most important thing to us. And after what happened with the headmistress, and now you disappearing all night... we're scared, Emily."

Emily pulled her hand away, a spark of anger flaring inside her. "I'm fine. Nothing happened. You're overreacting."

"Emily," Yvonne said, her voice tight with worry, "what's that on your neck?"

Emily's hand flew to cover the mark. "It's nothing. I... I fell. Hit my neck on a branch."

Neither of her mothers looked convinced, but before they could press further, there was a knock at the door.

Trisha went to answer it, returning a moment later with Joe Sullivan. The mechanic's eyes immediately locked onto Emily, a mixture of fear and determination in his gaze.

"I'm sorry to intrude," he said, his voice gruff. "But we need to talk. All of us. It's about Emily."

Emily felt a growl building in her throat, an animalistic sound that shocked her. She swallowed it down, but not before Joe's eyes widened slightly.

"What about Emily?" Yvonne asked, moving protectively closer to her daughter.

Joe sighed heavily, suddenly looking much older and more tired. "It's happening again. The cycle. And your daughter... she's been chosen."

"Chosen for what?" Trisha demanded.

But Emily already knew. She could feel it in her bones, in the thrum of power that had been building inside her since that night in the cave. She was changing, becoming something more than human. And a part of her – a growing part – welcomed it.

"You don't know anything," Emily spat at Joe, surprising herself with the venom in her voice. "You're just a crazy old man."

"Emily!" Yvonne admonished, shocked at her daughter's outburst.

Joe, however, just looked sad. "I know more than you think, girl. I've seen this before. The pack, they choose someone new every generation. Someone to carry on their legacy, to feed the hunger that lives beneath this town. But it's not too late. We can still save you, if you let us."

Emily stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I don't need saving. I need you all to leave me alone!"

With that, she bolted from the kitchen and up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her. She could hear raised voices from downstairs – her mothers arguing with Joe, demanding explanations.

Emily paced her room, her mind and body at war with themselves. Part of her was terrified, wanting nothing more than to run to her mothers and beg them to take her away from West Hollow. But another part, a stronger part, yearned for the cave, for Samantha's embrace, for the power she had tasted.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across her room, Emily made her decision. She couldn't stay here, couldn't risk her mothers or Joe trying to "save" her from what she was becoming. She needed to find Samantha and the others. They would understand. They would protect her.

Moving quietly, she packed a small bag with clothes and essentials. As an afterthought, she grabbed the family photo from her nightstand, running her fingers over her mothers' smiling faces. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But this is who I am now."

Easing her window open, Emily slipped out onto the porch roof. The night air was cool on her skin, and she could smell things she'd never noticed before – the rich earth, the distant salt of the sea, and something else, something wild and enticing.

As she dropped to the ground and melted into the gathering darkness, Emily felt a thrill of excitement mixed with fear. She was leaving behind everything she had known, stepping into a new world of shadows and secrets. But deep down, in a place she was only beginning to understand, she knew this was only the beginning.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, calling to its pack. And Emily, her eyes gleaming with an inhuman light, smiled and answered the call.

****

The moon cast an ethereal glow across the night sky as Emily made her way through the woods, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She was returning to the cove, to the cave where Samantha and the others had revealed their secrets to her. After her confrontation with her mothers and Joe, she had nowhere else to go. She needed answers, and she needed the pack.

As she approached the familiar thicket of bushes, she paused, her keen senses on alert. The night was unusually still, devoid of the rustling leaves and nocturnal creatures that had accompanied her on her previous journey. A sense of unease crept over her, but she pushed it aside.

Stepping through the bushes, she found herself on the familiar beach. The waves lapped gently at the shore, whispering secrets in the darkness. The cave mouth loomed before her, a gaping maw in the rock face. But something was different. The protection runes that had adorned the entrance were gone, leaving the cave looking barren and exposed.

Emily's heart sank. The pack was nowhere to be seen. Had they abandoned her? She took a hesitant step forward, her eyes scanning the beach for any sign of their presence. "Samantha?" she called out, her voice echoing off the rocks. "Rhymes? Anyone?"

Silence was her only answer.

With a growing sense of dread, she ventured further into the cave. The air was heavy and damp, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows on the walls. The circular table was still there, but the candles had burned out, leaving the chamber in semi-darkness. The shelves that had held the ancient tomes and arcane objects were bare, as if the pack had taken everything with them.

"Hello?" Emily called out again, her voice echoing eerily in the empty cave.

As she turned in a slow circle, her eyes fell on a faint trail of footprints in the dust. They led deeper into the cave, toward a narrow passage that she hadn't noticed before. Taking a steadying breath, she followed the trail, her hand trailing along the rough stone wall.

The passage twisted and turned, the air growing colder and damper with each step. The faint glow of torchlight guided her forward, the flames flickering as if disturbed by some unseen force.

"Show yourself!" Emily called out, her voice echoing off the walls.

Just as she was beginning to think she had taken a wrong turn, the passage opened up into a vast chamber. The air hummed with an otherworldly energy, causing the fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

At the center of the chamber, illuminated by the flickering torchlight, stood Samantha. She was dressed all in black, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes, a piercing shade of amber, fixed on Emily with an intense gaze.

Emily's breath caught in her throat. "Samantha," she whispered. "What's going on? Where are the others?"

Samantha's lips curved into a mysterious smile. "All will be revealed, Emily. But first, we must prepare."

Emily's confusion grew, but she found herself drawn to Samantha, her fears momentarily forgotten. "Prepare for what?"

Samantha took a step forward, her eyes never leaving Emily's. "For your true awakening, little sister. Tonight, you will embrace your power fully. But first, we must ensure your loyalty."

Emily's heart raced. "My loyalty? Of course, I'm loyal. You're my pack."

Samantha's smile widened, revealing the sharp points of her canines. "Then you have nothing to fear. Come, follow me."

She turned and strode across the chamber, her boots echoing on the stone floor. Emily hesitated for only a moment before following, her curiosity and hunger for answers overriding her uncertainty.

Meanwhile, back at the Chen residence, an atmosphere of tension and worry permeated the air. Yvonne and Trisha sat at the kitchen table, their eyes red-rimmed from hours of anxious discussion. Joe stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside as if expecting some malevolent force to appear at any moment.

"Are you sure about this, Joe?" Yvonne asked, her voice laced with doubt. "Vampires? In West Hollow?"

Joe nodded, his face grim. "I've seen it before, years ago. The pack, they're not just a bunch of goth girls. They're ancient, powerful, and hungry."

Trisha shook her head, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "But why would they target Emily? She's just a teenager."

"Because," Joe said, his voice heavy with regret, "they need fresh blood. And your daughter, she's special. I've seen it before. They choose one girl every generation to join their ranks, to carry on their dark legacy."

Yvonne's hands balled into fists. "We have to stop them. We have to get Emily back."

Joe's gaze didn't waver from the night beyond the window. "It may already be too late. But I know someone who can help. An old friend who's dealt with the supernatural before. If anyone can help us save Emily, it's him."

As Joe reached for his phone, the room fell silent, the weight of their desperate situation pressing down on them.

In the depths of the cave, Emily followed Samantha through a maze of passages and chambers, each one more ornate and otherworldly than the last. The air grew thicker, heavy with the scent of incense and something else—something wild and untamed.

Finally, they reached a massive wooden door, its surface carved with intricate runes. Samantha pushed it open, and Emily gasped.

Before them stretched a vast underground chamber, its walls lined with torches that illuminated a scene of macabre beauty. At the center, a bonfire blazed, its flames reaching toward the cavernous ceiling. Around the fire, a group of figures stood, their eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. Emily recognized the pack—Rhymes, Chloe, and Alicia—their faces transformed by the dance of shadows and light.

But it was the figures surrounding them that truly captured Emily's attention. They were bikers, their leather jackets and rough beards contrasting with the ethereal beauty of the pack. The girls were moving among them, their movements graceful and deadly.

As Emily watched, transfixed, she realized with a start that the bikers weren't moving. Their eyes were vacant, their bodies unnaturally still.

"What's happening?" Emily whispered, her voice shaking.

Samantha's hand found hers, her grip firm and reassuring. "Watch, little sister. Watch and understand."

The pack moved with a synchronized grace, their fangs bared as they descended upon the bikers. The bikers didn't stand a chance. With lightning-fast movements, the girls bit into their necks, drinking deeply. The bikers' bodies went limp, their lives draining away as the girls fed.

As the last of the bikers fell, the pack stepped back, their eyes glowing with a feral light. They moved to the center of the chamber, their faces illuminated by the bonfire's flames.

Samantha turned to Emily, her eyes shining with an unearthly light. "Now, little sister. It's time for you to embrace your true nature."

Emily's heart hammered in her chest. "What do you mean?"

Chloe stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and hunger. "You know what we are, Emily. You've felt the power coursing through your veins. It's time for you to join us fully. To become one of us."

Emily shook her head, her eyes darting between the expectant faces of the pack. "I... I can't. I don't want this."

Rhymes' brow furrowed, her eyes flashing with disappointment. "You can't deny what you are, Emily. You're one of us now. It's your destiny."

"No!" Emily backed away, her eyes wild. "I won't be like you. I won't kill."

Samantha's expression hardened, the warmth draining from her eyes. "Then you leave us no choice."

Before Emily could react, they were upon her. She felt their fangs sink into her neck, their mouths drinking deeply. Her vision blurred, her body going limp as her life force was drained away.

As the pack fed, their laughter echoed off the cavern walls, mingling with the crackle of the bonfire. And in that moment, Emily knew that her life had changed forever. The night had marked her, and there was no going back.

As their laughter faded into the darkness, Emily's eyes fluttered open. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy, foreign. Her vision was sharper, her senses heightened. She could hear the distant heartbeat of small creatures scurrying in the darkness, smell the fear that still lingered in the air.

She was different. Changed.

With a growing sense of dread, she raised a hand to her neck, her fingers brushing against two small puncture wounds. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized the truth.

She was one of them.

As the pack's laughter echoed in her mind, Emily fled into the night, her new eyes reflecting the moon's silvery light. She was running not from her true nature, but toward it. And the night, with all its dark possibilities, spread out before her like a promise.

Little did she know that her journey had only just begun, and that the ancient vampire who had created the pack was about to enter the fray, changing the game forever.

****

The moon hung low in the night sky, bathing the town of West Hollow in an ethereal glow. Inside the Chen residence, the atmosphere was tense and fraught with worry. Yvonne and Trisha sat at the kitchen table, their eyes red-rimmed from hours of anxious discussion, while Joe stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside as if expecting some malevolent force to appear at any moment.

"Is this Glenn as good as you say he is?" Yvonne asked Joe.

"We fought side by side before," Joe said quietly. "He's the only one I know who I can trust with my life."

*****

On the other side of town, Emily stumbled through the woods, her body weak and her mind clouded. The events of the night had taken a toll, and she felt the vampire infection coursing through her veins, threatening to consume her completely. She had to find help, and fast.

****

At the Chen residence, the doorbell rang, interrupting the tense silence. Joe opened the door to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man with a weather-beaten face and intense eyes. He carried himself with an air of authority and experience.

"Glenn, I presume?" Joe said, extending his hand.

Glenn nodded, his gaze sharp and assessing. "That's me. You must be Joe. And the worried parents?" He inclined his head toward Yvonne and Trisha, his expression softening.

"Yes, I'm Yvonne, and this is my wife, Trisha," Yvonne said, stepping forward. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

Glenn gave a curt nod. "Let's get down to business. Joe filled me in on the way over. Vampires, you say?"

Joe nodded. "I'm afraid so. The pack has targeted Emily, and we need to act fast if we want to save her."

Trisha's eyes filled with tears, her voice thick with emotion. "Please, help our daughter."

Glenn's expression hardened, his gaze steely. "I'll do everything in my power. But first, I need to know more about this town and its history. Vampires don't just set up shop anywhere. There's a reason they're here."

Yvonne stepped forward, her voice steady despite her worry. "We've been looking into the history of West Hollow. There have been disappearances, strange occurrences... and it all seems to be connected to a group of families that have been here since the town was founded."

Glenn's eyes narrowed, his interest piqued. "Go on."

"And there's more," Trisha added. "We've heard rumors, stories of an ancient vampire who has been pulling the strings from the shadows. We believe she's the one controlling the pack."

Glenn's gaze flicked to Joe, his expression grim. "An ancient vampire? That changes things. We're dealing with a powerful foe. But don't worry, we'll find your daughter and put an end to this threat."

As they spoke, a figure appeared at the edge of the woods, moving with an unsteady gait. It was Emily, her skin pale and her eyes haunted. She staggered forward, her body fighting the infection that threatened to consume her.

Joe and Glenn's eyes widened in recognition. They knew what was happening—Emily was turning.

"Emily!" Yvonne cried out, rushing to her daughter's side. "What have they done to you?"

Emily's voice was hoarse, her words strained. "I... I don't know. It's like something inside me is fighting to get out."

Glenn's expression was grim as he exchanged a meaningful look with Joe. "I'm afraid the only way to free Emily is to kill the vampires who turned her. Their hold over her will persist until their deaths."

Yvonne's eyes widened in horror, while Trisha pulled Emily close, protective instincts warring with the knowledge that their daughter's salvation lay in violence.

Before anyone could respond, the night air was filled with the sound of approaching footsteps. The goth pack emerged from the shadows, their eyes glowing with an unearthly light. Samantha, their leader, stepped forward, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.

"Let the girl go," Joe said, his voice steady despite the danger. "This doesn't have to end in bloodshed."

Samantha's lips curved into a cruel smile. "It's too late for that. Emily is one of us now. She will embrace her true nature, or she will perish."

Glenn's hand moved to the stake tucked into his belt, his eyes flicking between the pack members. "Then it seems we have no choice."

In a blur of motion, the battle commenced. Glenn and Joe lunged toward Rhymes and Chloe, their stakes finding their targets with unerring accuracy. The vampires hissed, their bodies disintegrating into dust as the wooden stakes pierced their hearts.

Yvonne and Trisha, driven by a mother's protective instinct, moved as one. They faced Alicia, their shared determination giving them strength. It was a fierce struggle, but in the end, Alicia fell, her body crumbling to ashes.

Emily, her body still fighting the infection, faced off against Samantha. The older vampire was strong, her moves calculated and deadly. Emily struggled to keep up, her body weakening by the second.

Samantha's eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "You're no match for me, little sister. Embrace your true nature, or perish."

Emily's gaze flicked to her mothers, their faces filled with worry and determination. With a surge of newfound strength, she lunged at Samantha, catching her off guard. The stake in her hand found its mark, piercing Samantha's heart.

Samantha's eyes widened in shock, her body disintegrating into dust. But even as she crumbled, Emily felt no sense of relief. The infection still raged within her, the curse unbroken.

It was then that they heard a voice, cold and commanding. "Well, well... what do we have here?"

They turned to see Headmistress Blackwood stepping out of the shadows, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. Her once severe appearance was transformed, her true vampiric nature revealed.

"You," Glenn breathed, his voice filled with recognition. "You're the ancient vampire we've been searching for."

Headmistress Blackwood's lips curved into a cruel smile. "Indeed. And I believe you have something that belongs to me." Her gaze fell on Emily, her eyes narrowing. "The newest member of my pack."

Yvonne and Trisha moved protectively in front of their daughter, their determination unwavering. "Stay away from her," Yvonne warned.

The headmistress's laughter echoed through the night. "Oh, I don't think so. You see, Samantha, Rhymes, Chloe, and Alicia were like daughters to me. They were part of the first settlers in this town, back in the eighteen hundreds. I lived underground in these very caves, watching and waiting. I could have taken everything from those settlers, but I chose to spare them... for a price."

Glenn's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening around his stake. "You demanded their daughters."

"The Lost Girls, as they became known," the headmistress continued, her voice laced with fondness. "Over time, it became harder to control them. Immortality can corrupt even the youngest of minds. But they served their purpose, providing me with fresh blood and continuing my legacy."

Joe's gaze flicked to Emily, his expression grim. "And now you want Emily to join your pack."

The headmistress inclined her head, her eyes never leaving Emily. "She is strong, a true child of the night. With her by my side, we will rule this town and beyond."

Glenn's voice was steady, his determination unwavering. "Not if we have anything to say about it."

With a swift motion, he lunged at the headmistress, his stake aimed at her heart. But she was too quick, her movements a blur as she dodged and countered.

The battle raged, the night air filled with the clash of wood and steel. Emily, her body still fighting the infection, joined the fray, her movements fueled by a mix of fear and determination. Yvonne and Trisha fought with a mother's ferocity, their love for their daughter giving them strength.

In the end, it was Emily who landed the final blow. With a cry of anguish and determination, she plunged her stake into the headmistress's heart. The ancient vampire's eyes widened in shock, her body disintegrating into dust.

As the last remnants of the headmistress faded away, Emily felt a sense of release. The infection within her waned, the curse broken. She was free.

Yvonne and Trisha rushed to their daughter's side, their eyes filled with relief and love. Joe and Glenn stood nearby, their faces etched with the satisfaction of a job well done.

"It's over," Emily whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm free."

Glenn's gaze swept the area, his expression grim. "For now. But we must remain vigilant. There are other towns, other ancient vampires. The fight against the darkness is never truly over."

Joe nodded, his gaze sweeping the now-quiet woods. "You're right, Glenn. But for tonight, we can rest easy knowing that West Hollow is safe once more."

As they stood together, bathed in the soft moonlight, a sense of peace settled over them. The danger had passed, and the town of West Hollow could return to its quiet, unassuming existence.

For Emily, the night's events would leave an indelible mark. She had faced her darkest fears, discovered her true nature, and emerged victorious. As she looked at her mothers, their faces illuminated by the moonlight, she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

And so, the story of West Hollow and its dark secrets came to a close, the curse lifted, and the town's residents none the wiser. But for Emily, her journey into the supernatural world had only just begun, and the night held endless possibilities.

****

In the quiet town of West Hollow, life returned to its peaceful rhythm. The summer fair came and went, the lights twinkling against the night sky, bringing joy and excitement to the sleepy community. The Chen family, now forever changed, found solace in their shared experiences and the unbreakable bond that had formed between them.

Emily, no longer the new kid in town, had settled into a routine. Her days were spent navigating the halls of West Hollow High, her nights exploring the woods and caves that held secrets known only to a select few. She had embraced her true nature, finding strength and purpose in her newfound identity.

Yvonne and Trisha, forever grateful for the safe return of their daughter, immersed themselves in the local community. They volunteered at school events, joined neighborhood watch groups, and became fixtures at town hall meetings. Their unwavering determination to protect their family and their newfound knowledge of the supernatural world guided their every move.

Joe, his role in the battle known only to a select few, continued his vigilant watch over the town. He kept a careful eye on the woods, the caves, and the shadows that lingered at the edges of town. His knowledge of the supernatural and his unwavering dedication to protecting West Hollow served as an invisible shield against future threats.

Glenn, the skilled vampire hunter, had become a familiar face in West Hollow. He frequented the local diner, sharing stories of his adventures with wide-eyed townsfolk. To most, he was an intriguing stranger with a penchant for the supernatural, but to those in the know, he was a trusted ally and a guardian of their secrets.

Life went on, and the memories of that fateful summer began to fade. The town's residents, unaware of the darkness that had lurked in their midst, continued their quiet lives, blissfully ignorant of the horrors that had been averted.

But for Emily, the events of that summer remained vivid. She found solace in the company of Zoe, her loyal friend who had stood by her through it all. Together, they navigated the complexities of teenage life, their friendship a beacon of normalcy in a world that had become anything but ordinary.

As the seasons changed, Emily's connection to her true nature deepened. She learned to control her newfound powers, embracing the strength and agility that came with her vampiric heritage. The pack, now disbanded, had left a void, but Emily found comfort in the knowledge that she was not alone.

On quiet nights, she would venture to the old oak tree in Willow Park, the place where she had first encountered the pack. She would close her eyes and let her enhanced senses take over, feeling the pulse of the town and the whispers of the night. It was in these moments that she felt most alive, most connected to the world around her.

One such night, as she sat beneath the ancient oak, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. It was Joe, his cane tapping softly against the ground. He joined her, his gaze taking in the peaceful scene before them.

"It's peaceful here," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of their shared experiences.

Emily nodded, her eyes never leaving the distant twinkling lights of the town. "It is. It helps me make sense of it all."

Joe's gaze softened as he regarded the young woman before him. "You're handling it all remarkably well, Emily. I'm proud of you."

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. "I have you to thank for that. And my moms, of course. They've been incredible."

Joe's eyes glinted with a mixture of pride and sadness. "They love you, Emily. We all do. And we'll always protect you."

A comfortable silence fell between them, the night wrapping them in its quiet embrace.

Finally, Joe spoke, his voice laced with determination. "There are other towns, other ancient vampires. The fight against the darkness is never truly over."

Emily's gaze sharpened, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "I know. And I'll be ready for whatever comes our way. We have each other, and that's our strength."

Joe nodded, his expression resolute. "That's right, Emily. We're a team, and together, we can face whatever the night brings."

As they sat beneath the ancient oak, bathed in the soft moonlight, a sense of peace settled over them. The danger had passed, and a new chapter was beginning. West Hollow, with its quiet streets and unsuspecting residents, would continue on, unaware of the heroes in their midst and the darkness that had been vanquished.

But Emily, forever changed, would carry the memories with her. She was a guardian now, a protector of West Hollow and all it encompassed. And in the quiet moments, she would remember the power that lay within her and the strength that came from standing together against the night.

And so, the story of West Hollow and its heroes came to a close, the town forever protected by the love and bravery of an unlikely team. But in the shadows, new threats loomed, and the night held endless possibilities for adventure, danger, and the enduring power of friendship.

[fanficlolsblog]

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

(i write for mainly gxg sorry. i also take requests so let me know if you want anything written.)

female celebrities!

taylor swift

HEADCANONS!

drunk (non smut version)

summary: you're drunk and your girlfriend, taylor wants to take you home, which you try to resist.

casual (REWRITING!)

summary:

good luck, babe

summary: Y/N is in a complicated relationship with taylor swift, where she wants more than just fun, but taylor isn't ready to commit. after a tough conversation, Y/N decides to end things, realizing they deserve more than casual affection. though it hurts, Y/N feels a sense of freedom and relief after walking away.

all too well

summary:

i miss you, i’m sorry

summary:

loathe you

summary:

dress

summary:

all i wanted for christmas is you

summary:

jenna ortega

HEADCANONS!

the co-star

summary: on the set of wednesday, Y/N and jenna ortega, who have an on-screen romance, face tension due to jenna's aversion to Y/N. during a heated kiss scene, jenna’s unexpected passion creates an awkward situation, leading her to avoid Y/N for the rest of the day. Y/N is left embarrassed and uncertain about their strained relationship.

the co-star part 2

summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.

coachella

summary:

we fight, we break up, we kiss, we make up

summary:

flawless

summary:

i love you, and i don’t want too

summary:

billie eilish

HEADCANONS!

guess?

summary:

i could eat that girl for lunch

summary:

wasn’t it obvious?

summary:

lana del rey

HEADCANONS!

cinnamon girl

summary:

flirt

summary:

will you still love me?

summary:

kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor

summary:

gracie abrams

HEADCANONS!

i love you, i’m sorry

summary:

us

summary:

sabrina carpenter

HEADCANONS!

taste

summary:

it’s not christmas without you

summary:

red wine supernova

summary:

we never go out of style

summary:

chappell roan

nothing yet…

jennifer lawernce

HEADCANONS!

just good friends

summary:

the interviewer

summary:

coffee?

summary:

sadie sink

nothing yet…

emma roberts

the babysitter

summary:

never too old

summary:

male celebrities!

timothee chalamet

no strings attached

summary:

i hate you

summary:

matt sturniolo

HEADCANONS!

again

summary: you and matt have been so called 'friends' for years even though there is something clearly there. matt is sick of being just friends and decides to do something about it…

teachers pet (REWRITING!)

summary: on the first day of school, Y/N encounters Mr. Sturniolo, a young, charismatic new english teacher who draws her attention with his engaging manner and attractive appearance. during a private discussion after class, his intense concern and personal focus create an underlying tension, leaving Y/N both intrigued and unsettled about their evolving relationship.

sick

summary:

come back, be here

summary:

cardigan

summary:

chris sturniolo

HEADCANONS!

frat boy

summary:

i trusted you

summary:

invisible string

summary:

characters!

wednesday addams

just a little bite

summary: Y/N, a vampire, returns to wednesday addams' dorm after a day out, sensing her girlfriend's hidden frustration at being apart. as Y/N teases wednesday about her vampire nature, they share playful intimacy through biting. their connection deepens, revealing Wednesday’s vulnerability and desire, ultimately strengthening their bond in the shadows.

smoking

summary:

jealous girl

summary:

mine

summary:

i despise you

summary:

the perfect girl

summary:

ethan landry

i did this for you, for us

summary:

monster

summary:

nerd

summary:

yknow i’ve always had a thing for you

summary:

kiss me

summary:

jill roberts

come here dressed in black

summary:

i won’t hurt you

summary:

you’re mine

summary:

can’t even

summary:

jackie taylor

am i making you feel sick?

summary:

katniss everdeen

nothing yet…

finnick odair

nothing yet…

tori vega

nothing yet…

jade west

nothing yet…

quinn fabray

nothing yet…

rafe cameron

nothing yet…

max mayfield

nothing yet…

eleven

nothing yet…

mike wheeler

nothing yet…

madison montgomery

nothing yet…

brooke thompson

nothing yet…

lee (bones and all)

nothing yet…

michael myers

nothing yet…

leon kennedy

nothing yet…

bela dimitrescu

nothing yet…

lara croft

nothing yet…

rick grimes

nothing yet…

daryl dixon

nothing yet…

carl grimes

nothing yet…

glenn rhee

nothing yet…

[darkwitch1999]

Simpleman AU (But without Simpleman because that villain was CRINGE!!!!!)

What if instead of Marinette dropping the kids off with her grandfather Rolland Dupain, she decided to go to one of her friends for help? More specifically a creative and artistic duo of friends, one of whom has experience with babysitting children. Enter Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel! Knowing that the comic book duo are already hanging out at Marc’s house to work on their comic, ignoring the fact that they are also babysitting Marc’s little brother, Aimé Anciel, and not even bothering to ask them first because she’s so dead set on helping out Adrien, Marinette brings Manon, Ella, Etta, and Chris over to Marc’s house.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Marc and Nathaniel stare incredulously at Marinette as she finishes explaining her situation. Meanwhile, are Chris and Manon chasing each other around the living room while Ella and Etta are jumping on the couch. Aimé is drawing a picture with crayons and paper on the coffee table with a Reverser doll sitting next to him, paying no mind to the other four rambunctious children.)

Marinette: (looks at the comic duo with pleading eyes) So it would just be for a little bit and I swear, I’ll hurry back as soon as I can! Please?

Nathaniel: (exchanges a look with Marc) Is she serious? Marinette, you know we’re always willing to help you out, but Marc and I still have pages of our next comic to finish before our next meeting with our editor in a couple of weeks.

Marc: (speaks hesitantly) And besides, we are already looking after Aimé and I don’t think we can look after four more kids…it’s just a lot more than I am used to…

Marinette: I know it’s a lot to ask and I swear I’ll owe you guys big time if you do this favor for me. I should be back within an hour at most to finish the client’s request. Besides, I babysit these four all the time. It’s super easy!

Nathaniel: (raises an eyebrow) Then why can’t you take the kids with you if it’s that easy? Or ask this client to come over to your place to get their costume fixed?

Marc: Nath has a point there, Marinette. Who even is this client, anyway?

Manon: (puts on the brakes and stops running upon hearing Marc’s question) Marinette is going to help her boyfriend! (Manon starts running again before Chris could catch up to her)

(Marinette’s face immediately blushes red and her posture stiffens with embarrassment. Marc and Nathaniel couldn’t suppress the smirks growing on their faces.)

Nathaniel & Marc: (turn to face each other) Called it!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took a bit more time for Marinette to plead her case and convince the comic book duo to watch the kids but after a quick sidebar, Marc and Nathaniel decided to babysit Manon, Ella, Etta, and Chris while Marinette was gone to make a fool out of herself again in front of Adrien. But their help doesn't come cheap.....

Marc: (smirks) Alright, Marinette. We'll watch the kids for you.

Marinette: (beaming with gratitude) Oh thank you! Thank you both so much!

Nathaniel: (holds up a hand) However, in return for our services, we expect a payment of half of whatever you earn today from babysitting.

Marinette: WHAT?! That's totally unfair! You're only watching them for an hour!

Nathaniel: Yes, an hour of our time that we could be using to work on our comic which we will be getting paid for once it's published, but instead we will be using that hour to look after five kids.

Marc: I mean sure, we could simply just watch the kids for free out of the goodness of our hearts, but I do believe some compensation for the work that we will be missing is more than fair.

Marinette: You will both get a THIRD and split it between the both of you!

Marc: (shrugs his shoulder) Oh well, if that is the best you can offer us, Marinette, (walks to the front door and proceeds to open it) good luck with the kids.

Nathaniel: (calls out) Hey kids! Grab your backpacks! You're going back to Marinette's house!

Marinette: (panics) WAIT! (sighs in defeat) Okay fine...I'll give you guys half...

Marc: (closes the front door)

Nathaniel: (calls out) Never mind, you're staying here!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So for a while, things are going well. Marc and Nathaniel keep the kids calm and entertained with drawing activities and playing with the plush dolls of Miraculous superheroes and villains that Marinette brought with her for them to play with...

(Ella and Etta make the Rena Rouge and Carapace dolls kiss each other. Manon makes the Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls kiss each other. Aimé makes his Reverser doll and the Evillustrator doll kiss each other, which causes Marc to blush profusely while Nathaniel is laughing his ass off.)

Chris: (cringes and shields his eyes) EWWWWWWWW!!!!! Stop it! You guys are gross!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a while though, Nathaniel suddenly gets a notification on his phone, reminding him that the latest issue of his favorite comic is going to be released today, and the artist who drew the comic book illustrations was going to be hosting a book signing at the book store. While he was initially excited, he then soon realized that he couldn't go and leave Marc alone with the kids. Despite Marc's insistence that he would be just fine being alone with the kids for a little bit and that Marinette is probably on her way back anyway, Nathaniel refuses to leave Marc alone. So like any other healthy couple would do, they came up with a compromise, which involved Marc tricking Nathaniel outside and locking him out of the house until he got his comic signed.

Though things stay calm for a bit, after a while Manon, Ella, Etta, and Chris start getting a bit rambunctious like typical young children. Running around the house, getting into things they are not suppose to (like messing with the pages of Marc and Nathaniel's comic and putting them out of order, reading through Marc's diary, etc.), jumping on the couch, fighting over the dolls, etc. Meanwhile while all this chaos is going on, Marc is desperately trying to call Marinette to see if she was on her way back soon since it has been well over the hour that she promised she would be back by. Unfortunately, Marc keeps getting sent to voice mail over thirty times because Marinette is too busy overcomplicating her plans as usual. Marc then starts to become anxious and panics, which goes unnoticed by every child except for Aimé since he is the only one who isn't running around the house. Being only 6 years old, Aimé doesn't quite understand his brother's anxiety/panic attacks or more specifically how to help but he thinks that Marc is most bothered by the loud noises of the other children running around and then tries to get everyone's attention by turning on the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie. The movie immediately captivates the four children's attention and they all sit quietly in the living room to watch the movie. Unfortunately, Marc is still having a panic attack despite the room having quiet down. Aimé tries talking to Marc to help him, but again, Aimé is only six years old and has no idea how to help calm his brother down. So he then decided to get Marc's phone and call his boyfriend for help.

Nathaniel: (picks up the phone as he leaves the book store) Hey, Marc! I'm heading back right now. How are-...

Aimé: Nath! Something is wrong with my big brother! He's breathing weird!

Nathaniel: (confused and starts to worry) Aimé? What do you-...(realizes what Aimé is talking about) give the phone to Marc, Aimé! Let me talk to him.

(Aimé holds the phone up to Marc and puts the phone on speaker. Nathaniel can hear Marc's shaky, hyperventilating breaths from his end, causing him to become increasingly worried.)

Nathaniel: (sprints as he talks on the phone) Marc...Rainbow? It's Nath! I'm on my way back, you're going to be okay. I'm going to stay on the phone with you. Please, just try to breathe with me. We'll do it toget-...(hears Aimé cry out in alarm) Marc? Aimé, what's going on buddy? Hello?! Can you guys hear me?!

Marc: Yes, Shadowmoth.....

Nathaniel: (his eyes grew wide filled with fear and panic) Oh shit....

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Yes, Marc gets reakumatized in this "What If" scenario. I couldn't think of any new akumatized identities that Marc could be turned into. I was kind of leaning on this being a "Reverser 2" type deal. For instance after Marc is akumatized into Reverser again, he immediately reverses the children (minus Aimé) into becoming well behaved children who sit quietly unless told otherwise. Then he goes on a crusade to hunt down Marinette to reverse her into revealing her true feelings to Adrien since it was because of her obsession with Adrien that got him into this mess in the first place (or at least from his perspective) and much like everyone else, he has grown tired of her overcomplicated plans.

So what do you guys think of this "What If" scenario? I've had this idea in the back of my mind for a while. Please feel free to share your thoughts and opinions on this scenario regardless if you like it or hate it.

@andromeda612 @nerd-chocolate @artzychic27 @msweebyness @imsparky2002 @arny20252 @princessbutterflysposts

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

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210 for 🧟

---

Chimney watches them as they head out. He watches Eddie say goodbye to his son. 

“You be good for Maddie, okay?” He says  to the little boy, voice wavering like he’s trying to hold back tears. “What she says goes, alright? Same for all the other adults here.”

“Okay, Dad,” Christopher sniffs. His face is red and puffy. He has been crying. 

“I’ll be back soon, kiddo,” Eddie says, hugging him. “I promise you.”

Christopher tucks his head into Eddie’s shoulder. 

A few feet away, Buck is hugging Maddie goodbye. They’re speaking quietly to each other. An exchange Chim can’t overhear. 

Again, Chimney feels this displaced sense of envy. This green, lonely little monster on his shoulder that he hates. What a stupid thing to feel while watching people saying goodbye to their loved ones. There must seriously be something wrong with him. 

▪️▪️▪️

After saying goodbye to Buck - and Eddie, he supposes, though that didn’t feel nearly as significant - Chim goes to check on May. The teenager is recovering well. Chim thinks she’ll be feeling well enough to be moving around again soon. Which really is a miracle. He’s never heard of someone surviving being scratched by a zombie without contracting the illness. The fact that she did just that, and survived a secondary infection? Well, May Grant has good luck. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks her. 

“Okay,” she mumbles. “I kind of have cabin fever, though.”

“As long as it’s not an actual fever,” he replies. “Can I grab you any books? Something to entertain you?"

May blushes a little. “Anything paranormal romance?”

Chim chuckles. “You got it, kid.”

“No zombies!” She adds. 

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

It’s upon looking for young adult paranormal romance novels that Chimney runs into Maddie. She’s a couple of rows over, in the kid’s section, talking to Christopher.

“Can I play with Denny and Harry for a while please?” Christopher asks. The kid had clearly taken his father’s instructions seriously.

“Of course, sweetie,” Maddie tells him. “Just don’t go outside without an adult.”

“Thank you, Maddie!”

Chris leaves to join the other boys, and Maddie turns, pausing when she sees him. She looks at the stack of books in his hand. 

“Are those teenage vampires?” She asks, smirking. 

“Um, I think one is a demon hunter,” Chim protests. “And they’re for May! She’s bored, but still feeling crummy.”

Her smile softens. “You’re a good doctor.”

“I’m a paramedic,” he shrugs. 

“Well, there’s no med schools or boards anymore,” she reminds him. 

“That’s true,” he mumbles, a little awkwardly. 

Maddie makes Chim feel a little awkward, in general. Not in a bad way. Not through any fault or lack of social grace. It’s just… Well, how to put it? She’s beautiful. That’s the first thing. Even sunburnt, with broken ribs, and looking like she’s been on the road for months upon months, she’s absolutely beautiful. And not just, like, in a superficial way. Though there is that. She’s also just sort of got a presence about her. A warmth. Something that draws Chim in. It’s been under three days, but he can’t help but find himself wanting to be near her whenever she’s around. 

This is slightly problematic, he knows. For one thing, he doesn’t know anything about Maddie beyond what Buck has said about her. And that she’s sort of badass, to have made it here for Pennsylvania, just on the hope her kid brother was still alive. For another thing, Maddie is the first age-appropriate presumably heterosexual woman he’s encountered in months. He might very well just be feeling pent up. That doesn’t mean she’s as charming and wonderful as his brain is currently telling him she is. There’s also the slight problem of Buck being his friend. But that seems very much less pressing than it probably should, when Maddie is standing here smiling at him with very glittery eyes. 

Jesus, what’s wrong with him?

“Can I ask you something?” Maddie says. 

Chim nods. “Anything.”

God, see? It’s stuff like that. He could be a bit less eager, really. What if she asks for something ridiculously unpleasant?

“What can I do to help around here? Beyond Chris, no one has put me to work.”

Oh, so ridiculously pleasant and decent, then. Cool. Not helpful, Maddie. 

“You have a broken rib,” Chim points out. “No one expects you to do manual labor. We’re also not making May work.”

“Well, there’s no reason I can’t do something,” she says. “Like those security camera shifts? Or, Evan showed me his fishing stuff. Maybe I can do that while he’s gone.”

“Lifting fishing nets with a broken rib? Carrying buckets of fish up and down stairs?” Chim challenges.

“Evan says he does it with a kid!” Maddie laughs. “Come on, throw me a bone here.”

Chim smiles. Her laugh is beautiful. 

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “I’ll talk to Bobby about adding you to the cam rotation. As for fishing, I got stuck with it while your brother is away. So maybe you can help me out tomorrow morning? Within reason.”

Maddie smirks. “Okay. I will help you fish within reason.”

“I appreciate it, anyway,” Chim says. “I do not share your brother’s fondness for the ocean.”

“It was a bit different when I lived near it in Boston, so I can’t say yet,” Maddie replies. 

“Boston?” Chim asks.

“Where I went to nursing school,” Maddie fills in.

“Very cool.” Chim nods. “I always wanted to go to Fenway Park. Although now I guess… That’s not gonna happen.”

The fact that Chim will never see another new baseball game again doesn’t sit well with him. It’s lots of morose rewatches of Field of Dreams and A League of their Own for him from now on. 

“It’s a nice city,” Maddie says, but doesn’t elaborate. Something shifts in her tone slightly. Chim suspects Boston is not a topic she wants to linger on. 

“Well, hey…” Chim says. “I’m out in the gardens for the rest of the day, but I usually try to watch some movies in the evening after dinner. The library has a decent collection. If you want to join, you can even pick the film.”

“Oh, quite an honor,” Maddie says.

“It is! I don’t hand it out to just anyone. That’s how your brother ends up over-playing anything with Owen Wilson.” 

Maddie chuckles. “Well, I’d love to do that. I haven’t watched a movie in a very long time.”

“We don’t have popcorn or soda,” Chim admits. “But we do have veggies and clean water.”

“Perfect,” she grins. “I promise to pick something with neither Wilson brother.”

“Oh, well, hey. I won’t say no to Legally Blonde.” 

“Well, then good. I look forward to it,” Maddie tells him.

And to Chim’s delight, so does he. There’s not a lot to look forward to at the end of the world. Maybe Maddie being here will change that. 

▪️▪️▪️

Maddie does end up choosing Legally Blonde. 

“Well, you mentioned it!” She defends her choice. “Plus, lighthearted feels good, right now. And it’s not entirely inappropriate if Chris wakes up and needs me.”

Chim can’t argue with that. 

“Legally Blonde is perfect,” he concedes. 

They have a fun evening. It’s not that Chim hasn’t had fun evenings since the end of the world. He has. Lots of board game nights, movie nights, and card games with the gang here. They’ve found lots of ways to entertain themselves. Though he regrets the time he challenged Buck to a headstand competition. 

It’s not that his life has been filled with boredom at all. Lots of days, they work too hard to be bored. He finishes his days by falling into a dark, dreamless sleep. He isn’t lacking anything specifically. 

But still, having Maddie sitting in a chair next to him, watching a classic rom com, Chim feels like he’s gained something he was missing. He doesn’t know how to explain it. He just really hopes Maddie is here to stay. 

September 7th, 2018

Christopher, Denny, and Harry all join Maddie and Chim for morning fishing. It feels a bit more like they’re running  a summer camp than doing important food-collecting. Chim is used to Denny following Buck around like a puppy. It does make it slightly harder to focus on the task at hand. But Denny is helpful, and explains all the rules to Chris and Harry that Buck has given to him. With the air of authority that can only come from a child wanting to show they know more than his friends. 

Chim knows Denny usually helps Buck with the fishing nets, but this morning he is more interested in entertaining. The kids mostly play on the beach while Maddie and Chim do all the work. Which is good. He likes watching them get to be kids. Chim always felt that he had to grow up rather suddenly, after his father left and his mother got sick. It makes him happy to see kids being kids, despite the literal end of the world as they knew it. 

“So, I got added to light kitchen duty,” Maddie says as she wades in the water a few feet from Chim while he pulls up nets. “Which I feel like is still too easy. But I appreciate you all letting me help.”

Chim laughs. “Okay, you say that now. But wait until we start building the fence. Then you’ll wish you were on kitchen duty.”

“Fair point,” Maddie concedes. “When will that be?”

“We’re still collecting supplies,” Chim says. “Though this week has thrown us off.”

“Right,” Maddie replies.

“But I guess I’m making assumptions,” Chim says. 

“What assumptions?” She asks. 

“Well… I guess,” Chim sighs. “I mean, I don’t know what your plans are. Like if you mean to stay.”

“Oh,” Maddie says. “Well, yeah. I guess I haven’t given it a ton of thought.”

“That’s totally fair,” Chim says. “You had a long way just to get here.”

“I don’t want to leave my brother,” Maddie says. “Not after everything it took to find him.”

Neither of them says it, but Chim knows they’re both thinking it, anyway. She may not want to leave him, but he left her. Albeit temporarily. She will have a different decision to make if he doesn’t come back.

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Artist and The Art

Pairing: Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Summary: While you hide your feelings for Dalton, his life changes and suddenly you don't know where you fit.

Warnings: angst to fluff with some hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: This is inspired by a Hallmark movie (Chance at Romance / Friend Request), so just prepare for that.

Dalton Lambert Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Whoever made the map handout for JPU has apparently never walked the campus. With no legend or compass to orient yourself, it’s easy to get lost in the labyrinth of identical buildings. There’s a small mark on the building you’re supposed to go to, which would only be helpful if you knew where you were standing now.

Sighing, you look up from the map and search for a friendly face. Dozens of people are walking around, but most have their heads down or are talking to the people beside them. Finally, you see a boy walking by himself. He glances up and sends you a closed-lip smile.

“Hi, sorry,” you say, stepping toward him. “Can you help me? I’m trying to find my class and I have absolutely no idea where I am going.”

He chuckles, pointing at the map in your hand. “That certainly isn’t helping.”

“No, it is not.”

He holds his hand out for it and squints at it before handing it to someone else as they pass. They take it without a word, and you laugh. The boy smiles and moves beside you, facing the same way as you.

“Okay, so you’re going to walk down this sidewalk until you get to the arch. Turn left before the arch and you’re there,” he explains.

“Thank you so much.”

 “No problem. I’m Dalton, by the way. Maybe I’ll see you around. Good luck.”

“Nice to meet you.”

After introducing yourself, you turn away and walk toward the arch (which wasn’t on the map, you think). Dalton watches you walk away and brushes his hair back, smiling as he hopes to see you again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Sitting on a stoop outside the library, you keep your head down until someone calls your name. Looking up, you smile when you see Dalton walking toward you.

“Hey,” you reply, standing up. “Good to see you again.”

“Again?” the girl beside him asks, smiling at him. “Well done, Dolphin.”

Dalton rolls his eyes, whispering for her to stop before apologizing to you. “This is Chris.”

“We’re going out for coffee. Want to come with?” Chris invites you.

You look at Dalton, and when he smiles, you agree. Gathering your things, you fall into step beside Dalton.

“What’s your major?” he asks.

You tell him, then ask, “Art?”

Dalton looks over at you with wide eyes, his jaw dropped slightly.

“You were outside the art building when we met,” you explain. “And you have charcoal all over the side of your hand.”

Glancing down, Dalton nods when he sees his hand.

“Dalton needs a model,” Chris interjects. “Care to volunteer your time and face for his artistic pursuits?”

“Chris,” Dalton chides.

“What’s the model for?” you ask, ignoring Dalton’s awkward reaction.

“We’re supposed to find something to draw that is different than us.”

“And that’s me? You don’t even know me,” you point out, smiling as you open the café door.

“If I say I’d like to?” Dalton mumbles, looking down before glancing back up when he sees your smile.

“I would tell you that I’d like to get to know you too. Although I’m not sure I’m model material.”

“Oh, you are,” Dalton promises, his cheeks growing warm when your smile widens.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Can you turn your head to your right? Sorry, my right,” Dalton requests, looking at your face with his head tilted to the side.

“So, how many other models did you ask before you got to my name?” you tease.

“Funny. All of them, actually,” Dalton replies, playing along.

You smile, falling silent as you try to stay at the angle Dalton needs.

“Tell me something,” he requests.

“Tell you what?”

“Anything, just talk.”

You nod, thinking of something you haven’t shared with many people. “There’s a lake in a forest about 40 miles north of here. When I was a kid, I went with one of my friends and fell in love with the area. As soon as we got back, I asked my parents to take me, but they were always too busy or couldn’t afford the trip, something. I got older, and that friend moved away, but the memory of that lake, the peace that I felt while I was there, never left me. The day that I got my driver’s license I drove up there and it was- it was as perfect as I remembered.”

“Have you been recently?” Dalton asks, lifting his pencil from the paper.

“No, but I’d love to go again soon,” you answer. “Maybe you could come, too, if you want.”

Dalton smiles as he sets his sketchpad aside. “I’d love to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve known Dalton for a week, and you’re falling for him. Hitting it off with him was easy - effortless, even - but you didn’t expect things to escalate so quickly.

Despite the growing affection for him, you think you’re destined to be friends, so you hide your feelings. You support him and your art as an outlet for your emotions, using the veil of friendship to keep your heart intact.

Unknown to you, Dalton is falling for you, too. Each kind comment you give him, your pretty smile, and your soft touch make him fall deeper. He has a sketchbook full of pictures of you and things that remind him of you, hidden behind his bed where you can never stumble upon it accidentally.

While you pretend to be content staying friends, both of your lives change in a moment, and you’re no longer sure if you can have any future with Dalton Lambert.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Dalton, a moment,” Professor Armagan asks as she dismisses the class. “I have some news to share with you.”

Dalton nods, wondering what news she could be referring to.

“I showed your recent piece, the difference project, to one of my colleagues. He loves it, and wants to write an article about you and your work.”

“Why?” Dalton asks, unable to comprehend what he is hearing.

“It is very good, Dalton,” she answers. “Perhaps the best you’ve done; whatever the inspiration was, it would be wise to keep it around if possible. Art journals are a great way to grow as an artist, to jumpstart your career.”

“I mean- it’s an honor. Thank you,” Dalton responds.

“So, you will do it?”

“Would you?”

“Absolutely. But you are not me and this is your decision, Dalton.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Great, Mr. Lambert. I will give him your contact information. There is likely an art show in your future, so continue the good work.”

Dalton rushes out of the art building and to your dorm. Knocking until you open the door, he walks into your room before you have time to say anything.

“Professor Armagan showed one of my pieces to one of her artist friends and now he wants to interview me for an article in some renowned art journal,” he explains quickly.

“Dalton, that’s amazing! Congratulations!” you cheer, pulling him into a hug.

He sighs, relaxing in your hold as your presence calms him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You pull back too soon, trying to maintain your cover of ‘just friends.’ “I knew you were a great artist, Dalton.”

“Thanks for believing in me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Within a week, you feel like you’ve been pushed to the sidelines of Dalton’s life, watching something you are no longer part of. After the first interview, he scheduled another one with a magazine and started planning his debut art show. The art world knows his name now, and though you’re happy for him, you’re also heartbroken at the idea of losing him.

“Hey,” Chris says, falling into the seat beside you.

“Hi,” you answer, looking away from Dalton, where he is talking to a group of art students.

“When’s the last time you talked to him?”

“Um, last Friday I think? Right before the second interview.” You sigh, leaning back.

“He’s not forgetting about you,” Chris says kindly. “He’s adjusting to a new life, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you in it.”

You look over at her, and she adds, “You’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are. Neither of you are.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” you whisper. “Because I feel like I’m an observer, not a participant.”

“He invited you to the art show, right?”

“Yeah. Gave me a VIP ticket and asked me to come by early.”

“Well, that sounds like a chance to me. Dalton is, well, he’s Dalton, and you already know that he’s not the extrovert he’s being right now. This is an act for him, just like being his friend was an act for you. And neither of you can keep those facades up for long.”

“You’re saying that he’ll go back to normal someday and I’ll expose myself as being in love with him, too.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Chris answers as she stands. “Just don’t wait too long. I’d rather not find out if artists have groupies or anything.”

You laugh, and Dalton looks up. He may be distant, but he never took his eyes or his mind off you. Able to find you in any crowd, Dalton smiles, and you think things may be looking up.

✯✯✯✯✯

As you prepare for Dalton’s first art show, you attempt to convince yourself that Chris is right. Hoping that the perfect moment presents itself, you plan to tell Dalton the truth: that you’re falling for him and want to be with him.

Adjusting your outfit, you take a deep breath before you walk into the art gallery. The show doesn’t begin for a few more minutes, but artists and professors are present when you enter.

You expected to be impressed by the pieces Dalton chose to display, but your breath catches when you see that many pictures are of you. Forgetting about your plan to find Dalton, you’re enraptured by his art and begin walking around the gallery and looking at each piece. Some of them you modeled for, others are from memory, or he drew them while you weren’t looking. Smiling at the first picture he drew of you, you remember that Dalton is around here somewhere and set out to find him. This many pictures has to be a good sign, you think, a chance that he feels similarly.

Turning a corner, you finally find Dalton and your smile falls. He’s talking to another girl, tracing a gentle finger over her face as he explains how to draw the angles of bone structures. He’s treating her like she is the art on display, and you feel tears gathering in your eyes before you turn and exit the gallery. As the tears fall, you get in your car and leave; leave the show, pass JPU, and then leave town. There is only one place where you can go to feel better, to feel whole again, and you hope it’s enough.

✯✯✯✯✯

Dalton looks up suddenly, dropping his hand to his side.

“Are you okay?” the woman beside him asks.

“Was there a girl standing there a minute ago?” Dalton asks, pointing to his right. “Really pretty? Maybe looking at me?”

“Uh, yeah,” she answers, nodding. “She looked kind of upset, though.”

Dalton clenches his jaw, looking around for Chris or Professor Armagan. He finds Chris first, rushing to her side as he says your name.

“What about her?” Chris asks.

“Where is she?”

“Here, I thought.”

“No, she-“ Dalton tugs his hair in frustration. “She saw me talking to a prospective manager, and I’m so stupid… She left and I don’t know where she went.”

“I’m not disagreeing, but how are you stupid?”

“I was touching her face to explain the angles when drawing.”

“Dalton! You knew she was coming early to see you, what were you thinking?”

“I don’t know! But I have to do something, Chris.”

“You can’t leave.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t,” Professor Armagan says, walking to Dalton’s side. “Unless it’s some kind of emergency.”

“It is,” Dalton promises. “The girl that I- the girl in all the pictures was here and then she left. I need to find her and explain something to her.”

“Go,” Professor Armagan says, passing Dalton her keys. “I will cover for you. You are lucky that artists are dramatic, they will love this.”

“Dalton, where are you going to go? She won’t go back to her dorm,” Chris points out, following him to the front door.

Someone calls his name, and he turns to Chris, ignoring his new fans and art collectors. “I know where she’s going.”

Chris nods. “Be careful. And find her.”

Dalton finds Professor Armagan’s keys and starts the car, glad to see her gas tank is full. 40 miles separate you and him, and he plans to close that distance forever.

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t care about your nice, new outfit anymore as you sit on the sand. The waves lap up onto the shore as you stare out over the water; it reflects the trees and the moon in the sky above. It’s still peaceful, but as you wipe your tears with the back of your hand, you can only think about how Dalton said he’d like to come with you someday.

After a few minutes, you give up on holding your tears in and let yourself feel everything you’ve been keeping buried. You go through the emotions of falling for Dalton and losing him at the same time, your sobs mixing with the sound of the water and the wind blowing through the trees.

“It was just supposed to be a picture,” you whisper to yourself.

“But it wasn’t.”

Turning quickly, you don’t expect to see Dalton standing behind you. Your face is still wet with tears, and seeing him doesn’t help them slow.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, looking away from him.

“You were gone.”

Dalton sits beside you, his hand extended between you as he traces something in the sand.

“How’d you even know I was there?” you mumble.

“I can find you anywhere. It’s easier when you’re always on my mind.”

“That’s not a reason to leave.”

“Yeah, it is, a good one. I need my model, my good luck charm, my best friend.” You nod slowly, before he adds, “The girl I’m falling in love with.”

You laugh sadly as another round of tears breaks free. “Don’t do this,” you beg.

“What am I doing?”

“Trying to make me feel better. I know we’re just friends, Dalton. You don’t have to lie to make me stop crying or go back with you.”

“I’m not lying, and I don’t want to just be friends. Do you seriously think I would have sketchbooks full of pictures with you if I didn’t have feelings for you? Every piece in that art show is inspired by you.”

“But-“

“I know how it looked, me talking to her and touching her. I didn’t think about it before I did it, and I’m sorry.”

“Who is she?”

“Someone who wants to be my manager.”

Your hand moves closer to Dalton’s, and he smiles.

“I said no,” he adds.

“You really followed me because you noticed I left?”

“I didn’t follow you. Just knew where you’d go. But I would follow you anywhere.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Dalton. There’s so much going on and I don’t want to get in the way of what you love.”

“You are what I love,” Dalton argues. “And I promise to keep you by my side and in my sketchbook no matter what happens. If you’ll let me.”

You look over at Dalton; he looks like he did when you first met, shy but glad to be talking to you. Though Dalton got famous practically overnight, how he looks at you and treats you has never changed, and you believe everything he has said.

“I want you to,” you whisper, pushing your hand into his as you move toward him. “And I promise to stay there; by your side more than in your sketchbooks, preferably.”

“Pretty models have to be drawn.”

“Fine,” you concede, laughing as you lean toward him. “I promise to stay by your side and in your sketchbook no matter what happens.”

Closing the distance, you kiss Dalton for the first time. His hands move to your waist as you lay yours against his chest, neither of you concerned with the sand covering your clothes. When you pull back and smile at Dalton, you kiss his cheek when you see the moon reflected in his eyes before you stand up and wait for him to join you.

“Next time we come here, can it be for a better reason?” you request.

Dalton laughs, then suddenly looks down at the sand on his suit.

“Is that a rental?” you ask, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“No, it’s mine. The, uh- I brought Professor Armagan’s scarily clean car, though.”

“Well,” you say, smiling as you pat his chest. “Looks like you’re staying here or selling a picture to pay to get it detailed.”

“You would leave me here?”

“Not for long.”

Dalton wraps his arms around your waist, turning you to face the water with him as you lean against his chest.

“When we come back, can I draw you here? You were right, it is peaceful, and I like that you’re happy here,” Dalton says quietly.

“Sure. But, just so you know, I’m happy when I’m with you. Whether we’re here or with Chris or just sitting in your dorm, I like being with you.”

“Prove it,” Dalton begins, “come to my next art show and stay with me.”

“Buy me dinner after and I’m in.”

“Anything for the art.”

“If I’m the art, and you’re the artist… you get way more credit than me.”

“But you’re way prettier.”

You laugh, and Dalton turns you in his arms to kiss you again, and you find that being the art to his artist is a much better deal than pretending to be his friend.