Darkness Within The Light
Darkness Within the Light
Chapter 1 of my A Dwayne Stephens x Latina!Pregnant!Witch!OC story
Warnings: descriptions of gore/violence, violence, blood, sex, crude language, language, toxic mentalities, toxic relationships
Summary: this first chapter doesn’t actually have any warnings besides what can maybe be interpreted as stockholm syndrome. Anyway, we start off with a meeting between the vampires about Max possibly creating a new mother for his lost boys (plus Star)
“Now, young boys need a mother. A kind, nurturing and loving mother,” their powerful leader spoke, his chiding voice echoing off the walls of the sunken hotel.
“No offense, Father, but we aren’t exactly ‘young boys’,” the youngest, Paul, jokingly pointed out, the firelight reflecting off of his bloodstained teeth. Marko, who was lazily lounging beside him, chuckled in agreement.
David sighed slowly, coolly as he was ought to do, considering both his father’s words and his brother’s argument. Star and Laddie idled by in their room, watching the exchange curiously, but silently. He had to take them into consideration, Max did as well. Max was the sire to six vampires, two of which were mere fledglings. It was a curious amount of children to have without a mother in the picture. Especially when the family resemblance was all over the place. Still, it would be hard to explain such conditions to a new woman, vampire or not. Vampires were territorial by nature - Max’s lost boys plus two would always be his, solely his.
A human woman would be easier to indoctrinate into their merry little clan, especially if she were Max’s mate, but the odds of finding such as woman as Max was describing were next to zero. At the same time, David knew that Max wasn’t truly proposing the idea to them. They weren’t that type of clan. He’d made up his mind already, and used their latest delinquent endeavors - this time, a particularly messy feeding - to inform them of his decision. In any case, as a father, because he wasn’t just their sire, he would want his children’s input.
Paul and Marko, only 10 years into their immortality, weren’t looking for yet another source of authority like Max to keep them in line. David didn’t care either way; Max knew of their approach to the lifestyle he granted them and let them be so long as they stayed within certain lines. Star and Laddie hadn’t been around long enough for their opinions to matter much, neither had even taken the multiple chances they had to feed, yet. Until they did so, their chances of speaking up at these “meetings” were limited.
David looked to Dwayne, to prob his mind for a hint on his position in this matter. Since returning to their “home”, Dwayne has remained silent. Even now, his dark eyes never strayed from Max’s pacing form. Usually jovial after feeding, attending to Laddie and Star or joking with Paul, Dwayne’s reflective demeanor told David what he needed to know. Dwayne had come to the same solution he had, and was curious to what Max’s response would be to Paul.
“Now, now, son, we ought to look at this a bit more openly. Our kind doesn’t change much and you still are very young in many aspects, especially in comparison to your older brothers. A mother might be just what you six need to tame out your roughness,” Max dismissed easily. David raised an eyebrow at the inclusion of Star and Laddie in Max’s statement, but continued to say nothing. The two new comers had been with them a few months now and had refused to turn to their way of life, David hadn’t truly known how Max had taken that rejection until now. Fledgling or not, anyone who had ingested Max’s blood belonged to him on a certain level.
Star had joined them first, several months ago. Drawn in by their dark natures, so different from her light and laidback lifestyle, she was fascinated and attracted to their dangerous intensity. It hadn’t taken much effort or persuasion to get her to drink Max’s blood, but once she’d realized their deception, she was appalled. It wasn’t as though there was much she could do at that point however, and she didn’t have any opportunities besides joining them. And join them she did, albeit begrudgingly, as there was a large part of her human life that she outright refused to leave behind.
She didn’t have parents or a particularly rewarding job, but she had a brother. A young boy who would be left alone in the world without her. He needed her and she needed him. There would be no way to get her to accept her new life with them without that child. Though Paul and Marko were heavily against the idea, not wanting to be eternal babysitters to someone’s brother, Max had developed a soft spot for his only daughter, as resistant as she was. So he turned Laddie, too. While is wasn’t what Star had in mind, nor what she wanted for the boy, it was better than them being separated forever and him being alone.
Now, months later, she’d refused to kill and forbid Laddie from doing so as well. Max, for the most part, took a “laissez faire” approach to them. He didn’t really interact with them much and left them to their own devices as he did with his other children. The boys had all taken numerous attempts to include them or convince them to feed. Dwayne and Paul especially. Since Max’s role in Santa Carla was to be absent from them as an entity, Dwayne had taken over the fatherly role towards Laddie, with the younger boy clearly looking up to him as such. Out of all of them, Paul’s light-heartedness and good humor defrosted Star’s icy demeanor enough that she could tolerate being in the same room as them and trust them enough to care for Laddie in ways she couldn’t. If David knew of how things would turn out when he asked Max to change her, he still would’ve done it.
While he couldn’t quite put a finger on how he felt about Star, hell, how any of them truly felt about her, there was a sense of rightness when she and Laddie were around. So it didn’t matter to him whether how he felt about her was romantic or not, she was theirs and they were hers. And they’d have eternity to figure out all the smaller details. No matter the circumstances, Star and Laddie drank Max’s blood and joined his clan. Making their odd family a bit more complete.
Despite all this, she rarely spoke aloud in front of Max. Whether it was because of fear, or because of her lack of willingness to kill, she was too intimidated to regularly give her opinions where he was concerned. Laddie didn’t have the same problem, but he always remained glued to his sister’s side when in a room with Max. The siblings were very clearly intimidated by their creator.
“And what would you make of this, my dear Star? You’re much too young to deal with the burdens of true motherhood, especially where these four are concerned. Do you share in Paul’s opinion?” Max implored, pausing in his thoughtful pacing and securing his full attention on Star. Unlike with Paul, this was leagues more genuine a question. It was the most patient and fatherly he’d been since turning Laddie. When you spend months getting verbally rejected by your father in front of strangers to put up a convincing front, it was hard to separate the act from what was true, no matter how many times the routine was played.
Star startled from her position on her bed, jostling Laddie who was fiddling with some sort of odd gimmick Marko had stolen for him. She blinked owlishly at Max, lips parted for words she hadn’t been prepared to speak. Max waited for her response patiently and Dwayne turned to watch her quizzically, the most expressive he’d been in an hour.
Tucking a curly section of her long, dark locks behind her ear, she nodded jerkily before clearing her throat. “I agree with you. It would be nice to have another girl around. And it would be nice for you to have a mate, sir.”
Max smiled and hummed in a mock questioning tone, pleased with her input. He sighed, much in the same matter David had, and resumed pacing. David himself was shocked at the exchange. He was able to count all the times Star and Max had interacted on one hand and still have a finger or two left over. Still, he remained in his silent game of sorts with Dwayne, who also hadn’t said a single word.
Laddie, emboldened by Star’s exchange with Max, scampered onto Marko’s lap so that he and Paul could show him how to figure out the toy. Star gazed after him longingly, obviously preferring for her brother to stay with her, both to protect him and use him as a buffer from the others. Still, David could tell that it warmed her heart to see her brother so relaxed and happy, chattering away with the blonde duo.
He caught Dwayne’s eye after a few moments of the pseudo-domestic scene, with Max ceasing his pacing to sit and observe the scene of his three youngest sons’ interaction with one another. It was a perfect few minutes, but as far as David and Dwayne were concerned, the prior conversation was far from over. One glance at Star’s tense form, waiting with bated breath, she knew that, too.
Dwayne, taking the ever-rare lead as oldest of Max’s children, adjusted his position to mirror that of his father’s. Max was temporarily distracted from his musing by the change and focused on the brunette.
“Addition aside, where exactly are you planning on finding this woman, father? A vampire would never accept us, she wouldn’t accept being mated to a clan that isn’t hers,” Dwayne reasoned, raising an eyebrow at Max.
The benevolent babbling of the chaotic trio dropped off suddenly, watching the two oldest members of the clan in rapt attention. It wasn’t often that Dwayne spoke in length and for all of the clan, besides David and Max, of course, they’d never heard him say so much without provocation. Hell, they didn’t even know that Dwayne was the oldest. For all of his seriousness and intensity, David was simply better in-tuned to a leadership role among Max’s creations. Nonetheless, if Dwayne ever needed to get a point across, David would defer to him.
Dwayne was as much of a wild child as any of them. Always up for causing trouble and making mischief with his brothers. Unlike the others, though, he preferred to hang back most of the time, observant and reserved. Out of all of them, he hardly ever got into trouble with Max or human authorities. Not because he was a goody-two-shoes, but because he wasn’t a loudmouth and didn’t get caught. (Marko and Paul) But on occasions such as these, David knew Dwayne could pull through to their father in ways he couldn’t. Max wasn’t one to cast favoritism on his children, but as his first son, Dwayne was often considered his right hand on more serious topics.
“Yes, a female vampire wouldn’t suit us, we’d have to find a mortal woman to suit us. One who is mature, warm, and accepting to having such a large brood,” Max agreed easily, the picture of relaxation in comparison to the large young man who sat hunched before him on a downtrodden velvet couch.
“As well as completely accepting of our true forms and willing to be turned herself. She couldn’t truly be your mate if she didn’t turn herself. It’s a lot to ask for,” Dwayne added, brows furrowed and shoulders tense.
David sucked in a breath at Dwayne’s last statement. David was, by nature, defiant and rude. But never to his father, his sire. Though polite and monotone, Dwayne’s words were a clear criticism of Max’s expectations, which David - nor Paul, Marko, Star or Laddie - would never dream of saying aloud. Even if he did agree. (He does.)
Max nodded absently, not offended by Dwayne’s defiance in the slightest. “Yes, it would be quite difficult, near impossible, to find such a woman. Especially one without burdens of her own to deal with,” Max bemused, still nodding, looking nowhere in particular.
Dwayne’s eyebrows launched to near his hairline in shock as some sort of realization struck him. He sat up, lips parted in incredulity. From their position of the larger couch across the room, Marko and Paul tore their gazes from their game with Laddie to watch their brother and father’s interaction end suddenly. Star wandered over to stand behind Marko, laying a hand on his shoulder. They all tried to figure out the startling information that had stunned Dwayne so much.
“You aren’t looking for a woman to change into being our mother,” Dwayne explained aloud for them, leaning away from Max, fists clenched on his denim clad thighs. “You’re looking to change a woman who’s already a mother herself”
The atmosphere within their poorly lit dwelling stilled, as if Dwayne himself had paralyzed the air itself with his words. No one moved or spoke as Max’s implications swirled through their minds. It gave David a headache, but he didn’t dare speak. Star grabbed a hold of Laddie, her other hand fisting into the leather shoulder of Marko’s jacket. Paul lifted a hand to stroke her waist comfortingly, but he didn’t look away from his sire.
Marko breaks the intense silence first. “Dad? What does that mean for us? Our clan is large enough as is. Adding your mate is fine, but her potential children, too? That’s wicked risky,” Marko reasoned, laying his own hand on top of Star’s clenched fist, still on his shoulder.
Max focused his aimless state onto the curly-haired blonde, fingers drumming into the armrest of the leather recliner he was sitting in. His claws extended slightly, shredding the worn material beneath his pale fingertips. He gave no other indications that he was anything other than perfectly at ease. Still, he said nothing, his light eyes fixated on the chaotic trio huddled together, with Star carding her fingers through Laddie’s hair to ease his obvious discomfort.
David knew Max wasn’t truly frustrated at them, he was simply responding to their tension. As their sire, and father, he was loathe to accept any discomfort his children might have. He might’ve made this decision already, but it genuinely mattered to him that his lost children were all comfortable with the changes.
“A larger clan could be a good thing, my boy. Rogue vampires and small clans would be foolish to try and penetrate our forces. We’d also have a larger feeding ground. Meaning, that we wouldn’t be forced to leave as often, maybe not at all,” Max drawled, eager to put them at ease.
What he was saying was true, of course. Other vampires would steer clear of larger clans, they had at one point. Even with the five of them, they weren’t a large clan. Star and Laddie wouldn’t truly count to the larger population until they fed, no matter how attached they were to them. Most large clans did find a low maintenance location to settle permanently, using the advantage of larger areas to feed on outer human communities instead of locally. Santa Carla wasn’t like most places, though. There were many instances of murder and disappearances long before they had arrived, Max had made sure of it when moving them. Logistically, adding more members would provide an advantage to them. And Max was at a point where he needed a mate, instead of companions and children. Not that they were truly children, but they were his and he was theirs.
“Still, like Dwayne said, someone like that would be hard to find. The biggest problem would be to accept what we are and to agree to the change,” Star spoke up, more at ease since being asked previously. Dwayne eyed her at the mention of his name before refocusing on Max.
“Yes, of course, but remember that stranger things have happened, darling,” Max advised, encouraging her - all of them - to be more open minded and optimistic.
“Yeah, no offense, Pops, but where are you planning on finding this wonder woman of a mom? The woman here don’t tend to do the best job at caring for themselves, not to mention their own kids,” Paul joked, lightening the mood considerably. He reached across Marko to where Laddie sat on his other side and gently jabbed a finger into his ribs, causing the younger boy to squeal slightly and curl around Marko’s lithe form. Star giggled at his antics, finally letting go of Marko to ruffle his hair.
“That’s for sure,” David agreed, forcing himself to relax into his usual good-humored self. Dwayne followed his lead and spread out on his end of the couch, arms rested along the back end and long legs stretched out completely. His massive form took up most of the limited space.
“There are five billion people on this planet and women make up for more than half of them, I’m quite certain that we can find the one woman who fits into our family, along with her own,” Max conceded, enjoying the domestic scene in front of him immensely. With David’s gift of telepathy, it was hard to resist truly relaxing while within Max’s mind. He agreed to go along with it easily enough, though he didn’t look forward to babysitting even more baby fledglings, the idea truly didn’t seem like a bad one. So long as she didn’t interfere with their fun.
“Hmmm, stranger things have happened,” Dwayne repeated, closing his eyes and lolling his head to the side, chest rising and falling slowly.
“Yes, and who knows, our clan would be growing further as you all find your own mates,” Max added lightly, smiling with a happy twinkle in his eye.
David smiled warmly at the life inside the dark and dead hotel as the sounds of Marko and Paul’s loud jesting with Laddie and Star’s giggles bounced off the walls. The dull candlelight danced across everyone’s smiling and peaceful faces, even the sleeping Dwayne looked happy. He considered his father’s words thoughtfully, and secretly began to become enthused at the coming changes in his life.
~*~*~ Meanwhile, on the coastal highway just outside of Santa Carla ~*~*~
As the full moon reached its brightest and highest point in the night sky and the stars sparkles brilliantly in the endless dark expanse of the night sky, an old Volkswagen bus sputtered along the old road. Tires sending swirls of dirt, sand and dust dancing into the warm air before settling back to the ground. The ocean waves roared above the congested sounds of an old engine, and drowned out the sleepy singing from within the cab.
“Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Golden slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake when you rise
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Once there was a way
To get back homeward
Once there was a way
To get back home
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby”
The young woman yawned at the end of the song, exhaustion clouding her vision slightly. She was very thankful that there didn’t seem to be anyone on the road at the time and tried to clear her mind of the sleepiness. She hummed thoughtlessly for something to do and resisted the urge to tap her legs, which felt very heavy.
Running a hand through her hair and tugging on a few strands, she harshly blinking her eyes to combat her bleary vision, she remained determined to finish her week-long drive instead of parking on the side of the highway for a nap. Her destination was so close, she wouldn’t be able to bear not ending it ahead of time. She also had to take into account that her old lemon of a van probably wouldn’t start again if she stopped right now. And she was in no position to push the behemoth of an eyesore for a vehicle the last two miles it took to reach Santa Carla.
Less than two miles, she cheered inwardly when she saw the Welcome to Santa Carla sign that stood tall up ahead. Suddenly rejuvenated, she anxiously watched ahead for any life inside the beach town. Just across the way lay the board walk, smaller waves crashing into the pillars that held up the structure teeming with life. Everywhere she cast her eyes held signs of joy and exuberance. Small shops and kiosks practically sat on top of each other with large groups of people steaming in and out of them. Large rollercoasters sent screaming carts into the air, zipping to and from, end to end. Long lines stood waiting impatiently for the chance to play a game for cheap prizes.
She sighed contently, relieved to have arrived to her new home, absorbing the energy that was just out of reach. She could practically hear and smell and feel it all, even from so far away. There was something else, something less lively and a bit darker, but still extremely potent to her unnatural senses. It was familiar and welcome, very similar to her own energy. It tingled within her pleasantly and helped her feel even more at ease within her new sanctuary.
Sliding a hand down to the plump fat of her belly, where a clump of cells was growing within her womb, she rubbed comfortingly and enthusiastically. As if trying to wake her unborn child so that they might experience the atmosphere along with her.
“Can you feel that, lovey, this is where we are meant to be, this is our home.”
————————————————————————————————————————
end of chapter 1, hope y’all like it, lemme know
so like, i realize that both referencing Max’s mate with the OC being pregnant AND having the chapter primarily be in David’s POV can be misleading, but i promise it’ll get back on track. this story will have Max and Lucy together and i need help with David
I don’t know if David should end up with Star or Michael. Or if Michael and Star should be together? Or if Michael and Star and David should be together. Or if i should just make more OCs for the other boys?
Also, lemme know if you guys have any OCs for the other characters!
Currently available characters are
*Paul
*Marko
*Sam
*Alan
*Edgar
*(maybe) David
this chapter is dedicated @poisonprincess82
thank you for being my first follower on my new account, very much appreciated
More Posts from Angel-fics and Others
Horizon: Chapter 1 - Rain and More Rain, Yay
It wasn't that I didn't like Forks. I loved Forks, most of the people I loved lived here, but holy crow did I hate the rain. I think the only thing that prevented me from choosing to live with my dad was the stupid weather in Forks, Washington. Well, that and the fact that I was almost entirely certain that Renee couldn't take care of herself without me there. But she has Phil now and I have. . . extremely soggy boots. I hate wearing boots but they're pretty essential in a place as gloomy as Forks.
I missed Charlie though, as well as Jacob. We haven't spent nearly as much time together as we did after his mom died. And now that Rachel and Rebecca are off and living their own lives, I'm basically the only female family member he has left. He used to be somewhat close to Leah, the ex of the current werewolf Alpha, Sam, but their relationship ended when Sam imprinted on her cousin/best friend Emily. No one could blame Leah for being closed off after that. She was always traveling around nowadays and when she was in Forks, it was never for very long. Though, she seems a lot happier and more upright in the new life she's leading. I admire that.
Being in Forks long-term after three years was surreal. It was a complete 180 from my toasty and dry Arizona. There's so much more moisture and green here, it was messing with my vision. Or maybe that's the difference in air quality, it made me want to lay on the gravel roads and list all of the differences, but that's considered impractical.
Charlie was ever silent next to me and if I didn't know any better, I'd think he was uninterested. But no, my father was just as awkward as me and doesn't know how to start conversations. I get a lot more talkative when I'm nervous, but I've learned to enjoy the quiet around Charlie. Out of everyone, ever, I've never felt out of place or overstimulated by his energy. Mostly because he didn't have much outside of sports and fishing.
I knew living with Charlie would be a simple arrangement, which I was looking forward to. I didn't have to do our taxes or pay all of our bill or make sure he had a steady job after quitting the old one. We could simply co-exist, and I could just be responsible for myself. Though I would take control of the kitchen. One thing Renee and Charlie had in common, the only thing they had in common, was that neither of them could cook for shit. I loved cooking though, so it would be nice to have control of a kitchen that wasn't tainted by Renee's failed monstrosities and Phil's flavorless "sport's diet". I have no problem with Phil, it's just his "cooking". No soul, lack of flavor, plus he'd make Renee and I follow it to make sure he stayed committed in the off season.
As we neared the house, Charlie got this secret smile that was wholly foreign on his face, and I noticed the corner of Billy Black's truck in our driveway. I was immediately suspicious and turned in my seat, fixing a wide-eyed stare on Charlie. I sat completely still and slowly leaned forward without blinking. Charlie tensed and leaned away.
"Bella, distracted driving is the number one cause of vehicular deaths," he recited in his police chief voice. I rolled my eyes, noting the roof and window of the car. the green was making me dizzy.
"I'm aware. What's going on?" I widened my eyes further and leaned in closer. I started to breathe obnoxiously loud to irritate him further.
"You'll find out when we get there. Girl, get the hell away from me," he exclaimed. I bet he was wishing he could just get out of the car at this moment.
"I don't like surprises, old man", I grumbled as I sat back in my seat correctly.
"Then don't think of it as one, think of it as a couple of homecoming presents," Charlie retorted sarcastically as he parked on the curb outside of our house. I didn't see Billy or Jacob, but that was clearly their truck in the driveway, which another vehicle was hitched to. It was covered with a tarp so I couldn't see anything but the bottom of the wheels.
"I don't like presents, either. Daaaad", I whined childishly to let him know of my disproval. He very pointedly rolled his eyes at me and turned off the cruiser.
I wrestled with the seatbelt, trying to free myself from the confines of this cage to go argue with my father some more. However, I got distracted by the flash of flushed russet and inky black barreling into my window. Before I could even register why the cruiser was groaning and shaking, I was yanked out of the car and spun around in the air. The combination of the overwhelming amount of green, the fast paced movement of my assailant, and the spinning was getting to be too much and I felt like I was going to hurl my guts out.
When I was finally put down, I immediately crumbled to my knees, closing my eyes and laying my spinning head onto the cool, damp grass. At least it was good for something, dumb green grass.
“Oh crap! Bella! Are you okay?!” Jacob. I was gonna kill him if I ruined this shirt, it was nice despite the fact that it wasn’t one of my summery blouses that I loved and missed dearly. Fucking Forks.
“Isabella Marie Swan! What’re you doing yoga poses on the lawn for?” I heard a shout from the porch. Charlie.
At the same time, someone bellowed, “Jacob Black, you better not have had anything to do with this!” Billy.
Rough hands cupped my armpits and hauled me upright. I shoved my hand in Jacob’s face, not forcefully, and I held it there until I felt better. When I did, I shoved him away by his face.
“Dude, what the hell? I almost threw up,” I said, finding my balance and walking up the porch.
“You okay, Bells?” Charlie asked, laying a hand on my shoulder and helping me inside.
“Yeah, glad to be home”, I muttered as I leaned down to hug Billy and greet him.
“Glad to have you home, sweet girl”, Billy said fatherly. It was like having a second dad, which is surely the way Jake sees Charlie as well.
“So what’s with this surprise y’all had in mind?” I asked diplomatically. I could mouth off to Charlie, because he knows better, but Billy and Jacob took time out of their days and put effort into helping my dad.
“Well, we know you have money saved up for a car, but that’s taken care of. Give or take a few minor repairs you might want”, Jacob explained, jogging over the tarp-covered vehicle.
I winced lightly. “That’s really considerate, you guys, but I really wish you hadn’t gone through all that trouble just for me.” It wasn’t that I wasn’t appreciative, but I liked earning my possessions. And I always felt guilty when people bought me things. Renee loved to give sob stories about being a single mom to get things out of people and I felt as though I was doing the same thing when people gave me things.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, it’s not anything too special. The damn thing used to be a little father-son project for me and Jacob. Now we’re putting it to good use and saving you a bit of money,” Billy dismissed casually.
It made me feel worse. That must have taken months, if not a couple of years of work and effort and here they were, handing it to me after three years of my absence.
“Don’t start that”, Jacob huffed while untying the tarp. “It was just lying around, unused and uncared for, and it’s easier for all of us not to go car shopping and making sure you ain’t getting a shit deal.”
“Jacob! Language!”
Jacob rolled his eyes and in one very exaggerated move, pulled off the tarp.
My mind was blown.
Sure, it was super fricking old and the paint job was a mess, but something about this behemoth truck reminded me of Arizona more than any of the little knick knacks I packed. And a helluva lot more useful. My eyes welled up a bit, but I ducked my head bashfully to cover it up.
I ran to Jacob and hugged him in gratitude before excitedly opening the door to get a feel of my new baby. God, he was perfect. Warmer than I was expecting. Cool, if not chapped, leather seats, a bit of frostiness on the edges of the window. It was perfect. It was…Bella. I loved it.
“This is perfect! Oh my god, thank you so much!” I hollered out the open window that took me a bit too much effort to roll down.
“We’re glad you like it, Bells. Now come inside for your other surprise”, Charlie said while rubbing his hands together to keep warm.
I hopped out the truck, actually looking forward to this next gift. I never really how well they truly knew me. Renee and Phil always did their best, but I had the feeling that the main motivation behind their gifts to me was to show how much money they spent on me. Or they’d just plain gift me things that they like, rather than what I liked. It was a unique, welcome feeling to receive things that have actual thought put into them.
I ran up to the porch, almost tripping and busting my ass, and Jacob didn’t do a damn thing but laugh at me for almost eating shit on the walkway.
Charlie in particular seemed very animated about this particular gift. He kept glancing at me in anticipation for my reaction when I saw it.
It was beautiful.
He had opened all of the cabinet doors, the pantry, as well as the fridge and freezer. Everything, too to bottom, was absolutely filled with various types of food and spices and herbs. Veggies and fruits that weren’t even in season. Meats, cheeses and so many condiments. I was in heaven. Ever ingredient for every recipe I wanted to try was right there for the taking. This time, a tear did slip down my cheek.
“Oh, Dad”, I whispered, still in awe.
“You like it right? I told your mom to send me ingredients for the recipes you’ve made or wanted to try. Took a couple of months, but I finally got a long enough list and got to work. You like it, right?” Charlie asked once more when I didn’t say a word.
Honestly, I was a bit choked up. “I love it. I love all of this. Being here with you three. The truck. This kitchen. It’s better than I could’ve ever imagined. Thank you so much, Dad.”
He dug his feet into the wooden floor a bit, mumbling a response. His cheeks were bright red and his hands fiddled with the nervous energy from the attention.
“Welp. Me and Jake best get going before the sun sets. Don’t wanna run into any trouble out in the dark”, Billy said ominously. Before I could ask for clarification, he continued. “Glad to have you home, Bella. Take some time to settle in and get ready for school.”
Ugh, school. The one thing that could put a damper on my mood. But I wouldn’t let it ruin my first day. Forks was looking better and better every minute.
I guess the green wasn’t so bad after all.
~*~
End of Chapter One! Any feedback or anything like that? Apologies for any spelling mistakes, I’m like super tired and dealing with a blood disorder.
Hope yall like everything and here’s a small summary of chapter 2:
Bella’s first day at Forks High!
Bella goes to school and hears about the strange family that recently moved in. Later, she meets a couple of them.
She makes some new friends, too. Good for her.
In The Room Where You Sleep
Summary: Dalton was just being curious and stumbles upon something he probably shouldn’t have. He then does something he shouldn’t have.
Warnings: Mentions of the Further, mentions of entities, Dalton being a creep, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), sexual fantasies
All credit to @glodessa who wrote the imagine that inspired this, so much talent there and you’re feeding my Dalton addiction
Dalton was your friend. His primary art class was in the studio next to the orchestra rooms where you practiced in. He’d wandered in on you playing a section piece on the violin after he’d forgotten that his class was cancelled.
Since you two had obviously seen each other on multiple occasions when going to and leaving from class, he’d felt comfortable striking up a conversation. He usually wasn’t into initiating introductions, but Chris had started forcing him to interact with more people and make friends. You were the first person he had introduced himself to without her assistance.
In a way, he felt a sick sense of possession when it came to you because of that. It made him feel funny, like he was gross and he tried to stomp it down, but it would crawl it’s way up his throat whenever you talked to him. He’d met you all on his on, without a buffer or cleverly charming segue. You knew him for him from the get go, and still liked him. You liked him enough to start waiting for him before classes for a chat. You liked him enough to exchange contacts and let him take pictures of you to save for his own personal enjoyment put into his saved contacts.
You liked him enough to let him walk you back to your dorms every time he had the chance to. Which he did, considering he started walking a different path to insure that he would run into you more often.
He didn’t think he was odd, not really. Lots of friends took secret pictures of each other. For fun, it was funny, like a secret joke. And lots of friends walked together in between classes, it was normal. Even if they didn’t share certain classes. Or if one of the friends wasn’t completely aware that the other friend was nearby.
Dalton didn’t consider it strange that he didn’t like when you talked to Chris, or any of his other friends. Or anyone that might find you attractive. In his eyes, that should’ve meant everyone. You were gorgeous and people should be falling over themselves trying to be with you, in his opinion. But you were his. His friend, at least. And he hated not having your full attention.
Nighttime was the worst, in some ways. You two had met up on occasion to help each other study or wind down from an intense test. But most nights, you turned in early to spend time with your roommate. Dalton hated your roommate, she was so clingy and always convinced you to go back to the dorms, cutting off his time with you. He thought she was off, or at least very selfish, and that she used every opportunity to guilt you and take advantage of your kindness and naivety.
Dalton would never do that, he was lucky to get to be your friend. You were beautiful, talented, kind and accepting. You even accepted his ability of astral projection without hesitation. You were beyond perfect to him, and if he wasn’t with you, he was thinking about you. Constantly, and usually aloud, much to Chris’ annoyance.
“Dolphin! Please, for the love of fuck, ask that girl out already. You’re driving me nuts!” She threw herself back onto the spare bed in Dalton’s dorm in dramatic agony, groaning loudly in complaint.
“No, Chris. She’ll just think that I became friends with her because I wanted to get in her pants,” he dismissed, tossing a dirty t-shirt into his hamper a little too forcefully.
“Isn’t that what all guys do? What’s the big deal?” Chris sat up again to try to convince him. It wasn’t the first time either, but she was almost positive that you liked Dalton back and would rather you keep his mouth too occupied for him to verbally obsess over you. Like he was doing right now.
“I’m not going to do that, Chris. Just drop it.” His voice was unnervingly firm and Chris snapped her mouth shut before another incentive could fall out. Dalton was usually mild-mannered, at least when it came to anyone but his dad, not really the aggressive type. Anti-social and surly, but not aggressive. Unless it had something to do with you.
Chris thought there was something not quite right about Dalton’s crush on you but she figured his abnormal childhood and resulting trauma made it hard for him properly process his feelings. And she was reluctant to ask in case it set him off.
“I heard her roommate is going home to her parents’ for her dad’s birthday, maybe y’all can hang out more this weekend,” Chris suggested instead, unfettered by Dalton’s tone. “She left earlier this afternoon.”
Something seized in Dalton’s chest. You hadn’t mentioned that to him. You didn’t have a reason not to. Was there someone else? Were you going to spend the whole weekend with another guy? Did you have a boyfriend? Anger and hatred for this secret man clouded his mind and he felt like throwing something against the wall until it broke.
“I hadn’t heard about that,” he replied to Chris coolly. “I’ve got some homework to finish, do you mind?”
Chris nodded slowly, grabbing her bag and quickly making her way to the door, watching Dalton worriedly. She gave a half-hearted wave goodbye and left without a word.
As soon as the door shut, he quickly locked it, tearing his ball cap from his head and flinging thoughtlessly towards his desk, knocking over a small stack of his sketchbooks and a tin of water. Cursing under his breath, Dalton begrudgingly trudged to clean up the mess before the water could stain or damage any of his work.
After mopping up the water, he flipped through his drawings to check if any of it ruined the paper. One of the sketchbooks was relatively new, but nearly full of pencil and ink sketches. Of you.
Most of them took up an entire page of their own. They were innocent, somewhat, just candids that he’d done while or after hanging out with you. You smiling, laughing, playing the violin, biting your lip awkwardly. Gorgeous and sweet.
There were some other ones, smaller in comparison to the rest and done with a light hand. You changing through the window of your room. You bending over at work. You crying to your mom on the phone after you tore your favorite dress right before a date you ended up not going on. Done in a hurry by someone who was sketching without a still reference.
It was not stalking. No, he wasn’t like that. He didn’t threaten you or send you lewd messages. He didn’t get off on scaring you or making you feel unsafe. He wanted you to feel safe around him, did everything in his power to make sure you were always comfortable with him. Plus, he never invaded your privacy, he just looked. Watched. It was friendly, protective even.
Plus, those sketches were nothing compared to the rest. Small enough for three separate drawings to fit on a page, and darkly filled in with a heavy and rough hand.
It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He was a guy. You were his crush. He couldn’t control his own thoughts, let alone his dreams. It happened, and it was completely normal and natural. Not at all creepy or perverted.
He dreamt of you often. He couldn’t keep his mind off you even in his sleep. Of course, his unconscious mind was different than his conscious mind. Mostly, anyway. A lot more eager for you, hungry for you.
The pencil drawings were of you as you appeared to him in his dreams. Bent over his desk, wearing a string of pearls and a sultry smile. You, on his bed with your legs spread out invitingly, your fingers scissoring your slick folds. There was even one featuring him, his lower face dripping with drool and your arousal as his tongue delved into your wet heat from under you. That one was his favorite, even if the drawing itself wasn’t exactly his best work skill-wise. He had a hard time balancing the pad with only one hand, which he was also using to draw.
Dalton sighed and picked up all of the sketch pads, putting them back where they were and collapsing on his back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he should bring up your roommate leaving and confront you about not telling him. You must have had a good reason, right? It’s not like you were getting tired of him or anything. Right?
As he drifted further and further into his thoughts, the room became darker around him. Standing up to fix his lamp, he caught the sight of himself sleeping in his peripheral. He’d fallen asleep and accidentally projected.
He didn’t do so often anymore, the Further was a scary and dangerous place and he was cautious of bringing something back with him. But it had its advantages, for pranks or finding out things that others couldn’t. Surprisingly, he’d never used his ability to watch you. You were too pure and beautiful to see through the lenses of the Further, he liked seeing you surrounded by light and color, with no potential of evil spirits ruining the experience for him.
But just this once…
No! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.
You trusted him, it would be so easy. And it’s not like he was trying to be a weirdo, he just wanted to see if you had plans that weekend without having to actually ask you. It would only be once, for a few minutes. He wouldn’t mess with you or your things. He would just listen in and leave.
He grabbed the lantern and walked out of his room. He could’ve found your dorm with his eyes closed, but since it was in a different building and he was traveling through the Further, it took him longer than he would’ve liked. But at least he didn’t encounter anyone. You lived on the second floor of your dorm house and yours was nicer and more expensive than his. You had your own bedroom and personal bathroom, not having to share with your roommate and the rest of your floor like Dalton did.
Your door was unlocked and after he entered your dorm, he locked it himself, knowing he’d have to unlock again it in order to leave. Your bedroom door was open and he could see you through it, sitting at your desk and typing on your phone. Silently and curiously, he peered over your shoulder to watch you text your roommate.
He rolled his eyes at seeing her contact but ignored it in favor of the messages being sent. Mostly average, just you being your considerate self and asking about her trip home. She, obviously, sent paragraph after paragraph detailing every insignificant second of her weekend away, not once asking anything about you. The entire conversation revolves around her and Dalton had to bite his tongue to avoid scoffing in your ear, which was inches from his mouth.
Finally she asked about you, specifically your plans for while she was gone. Luckily, she could serve a purpose for once, Dalton thought.
You mentioned work, homework and just relaxing and Dalton was tempted to leave and rid himself of his craving to kiss you. Then, he saw you type his name. You wanted to surprise him by inviting him over for a sleepover. Your roommate responded by teasing you about you and Dalton finally progressing to the next stage in your friendship; a relationship.
Huh, maybe your roommate wasn’t as bad as Dalton thought she was.
Dalton’s heart was racing as he continued to read all of your roommate’s suggestions for extremely sexual twists on common sleepover activities, all in order to seduce him. You didn’t have to try to seduce him, but trying any one of these wouldn’t hurt. He felt his cock hardening in his pants and knew that he probably should’ve left. Like, now.
But then you sighed loudly into the empty air. Your head dropped back, your lips parted and you shifted awkwardly in your seat, your thighs pressing together tightly. Dalton felt his mouth water just watching you and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He decided that he would wait until you either went to the bathroom or fell asleep. If he tried leaving before then, you might catch him.
So he stood off to the side and simply observed you from up close. You seemed more deflated when you weren’t around him, less animated and poise. Less…cheery. You continued to stay at your desk texting your roommate for a while before getting up for a glass of water. It seems like she was going to bed. You paced around the kitchen as you sipped your drink, looking slightly anxious about how the conversation ended. Dalton regretted not reading it along with you and now he couldn’t because your phone was off and locked.
Huffing out a tense laugh to yourself, you marched back into your room, passing Dalton to get to your phone. You continued pacing as you opened up your messages and scrolled until you found a particular contact, hesitating for a moment and then opening the chat thread. Dalton stood in front of you this time and read his own name from upside down. Why were you pausing when it came to texting him? Did this happen often? We’re you inviting him over?
He watched you type out a greeting and began pacing in your room. When the message delivered, Dalton panicked before remembering that his phone was next to his actual body. You wouldn’t catch him over his phone notifications sounding off in your otherwise silent room.
You turned off your phone and sat on your bed, your back straight and your eyes staring out into nothingness. Your leg bounced erratically and you started checking your phone every thirty seconds in case you missed his message. You were waiting for a response from him, Dalton realized. And he couldn’t do that while he was standing here with you.
Now was definitely the time to go and you gave him the perfect opportunity when you started collecting your things to take a shower, muttering to yourself about how desperate you were. It was clear that you were agitated from waiting on his message, and he supposed it was because he hardly ever took more than 20 seconds to start typing back. He only took long if he was busy, and he would always tell you beforehand if he was.
As much as he wanted to watch you undress yourself and shower, becoming aroused slightly once more at the idea, he wouldn’t cross that boundary when you were so vulnerable and unaware. It was completely different from the times he watched you change your shirt or remove your bra from outside your window. He was in your home and you were going to be completely naked. Dalton wanted go reserve that honor for when you would strip in front of him eagerly, at least for the first time he ever saw you naked.
*~*~*
Gasping, Dalton sat up in his own bed, his erection pressing against his sweats and his body feeling sweaty. He immediately opened his messages and read your message asking him what he was doing. Getting his own clothing, he walked to the common bathroom in his dorm house and stripped, sending you a picture of his shower stall with the reflection of his bare torso halfway in the frame.
He’d never been so forward with you before. You’d seen him shirtless on occasion, he wasn’t shy about his body, but never on purpose and he hardly ever sent you pictures instead of just telling you what he was doing. But now that he knew you felt the same way he did, he felt confident enough to give actual signals to tell you that.
He turned on the shower and waited for the ancient water settings to actually heat up the water. As he was about to step in, you messaged him back with a photo of your own.
You were wearing nothing but a robe, tied at the waist, but doing a very poor job at concealing your cleavage, and your hair was soaked. The mirror that you had taken the picture in was fogged and he could see streams of steam swirling in the air around your head. So you liked really hot showers, fuck, that was attractive to him. You smiled shyly into the camera with one of your hands clutching a towel in your hands.
You: “I just got out of the shower, how funny is that?”
God, you were adorable without even trying. He wondered if the placement of your robe was intentional or if you were just that sexy without trying to be. It could go either way, you were as effortlessly cunning as you were absurdly oblivious to your affect on others.
He quickly went through his shower routine quickly, not taking his time to enjoy the water and relax like he usually did. He didn’t want to keep you waiting again. He decided to toe the line of flirtation and idle conversation once more by sending you another photo. This time following your lead with a mirror pic. He was still shirtless and brushing his teeth with an overly wide and sud-filled smile. His shorts hung low on his hips and his entire frame was centered in the photo this time.
D: “What’s up?”
It was a lame line, but he wanted to keep the conversation going and see if you were going to invite him over. He spit out his toothpaste and gargled mouthwash, accidentally swallowing some as you replied back. Coughing at the strong taste burning his throat, his eyes widened as he memorized every pixel of the photo you sent, catching on to his little provocation.
The mirror in your bathroom was still slightly fogged but he could clearly see that all you were wearing was a t-shirt. It was big enough to cover your thighs, so Dalton didn’t know what you were wearing under it and he could see your nipples poking through the material ever so slightly. He dragged his lip into his mouth and bit down hard, hand clenching on the edge of the counter. He gathered his shower stuff and walked back to his room, keeping his towel gathered in a ball in front of his crotch in case he ran into anyone this late.
It didn’t occur to him to read the message you sent until he was about to send one himself. He was so distracted by your selfie that he completely forgot that he was in the middle of a conversation with you. He wondered if it was weird to be more turned on by you in your pajamas than you soaking wet and in a towel.
You: “Nothing much? What are you doing right now?”
He sat down on his art stool, and angled the camera at the mirror that sat in the corner between his spare bed and the wall. He hadn’t gotten the motivation to actually put it up so it laid on its side and only showed from his waist down at this angle. The picture showed his bare stomach, shorts and legs, with one of his feet braced up on the leg of his seat.
D: “Chilling in my room now, you?”
You responded a minute later in much the same fashion. This photo didn’t show your face either, but he could see your hair and the junction between your neck and shoulder at the top of the photo. You were stretched out on your bed, your legs propped up in front of you and you holding the weight of your upper body on your other arm as you snapped a photo of yourself. From the way your shirt rode up on your thighs, you weren’t wearing any shorts, but he couldn’t see your underwear.
You: “Same. My roommate left to her parents’ house so I have the place to myself.”
Was this your way of implying that you wanted him to come over? How does he respond to that information without sounding weird or letting on that he’d already known? Should he tell you that he already knew? He decided that now was the perfect time to reorganize his desk and actually put up the mirror in his room. It took fifteen minutes for him to respond and the guilt ate at him now that he knew how you reacted when he didn’t message back quickly.
D: “Oh, really? Yeah, I kinda always have my place to myself, haha :)Look what I finally did.”
The added “haha” looked so stupid that he wanted to jump out his window. He hoped the selfie he sent to you would make up for it. He was standing in front of his mirror, acting as if he was only trying to show you the mirror you’d been bugging him about putting up. He was still shirtless and a light sheen of sweat made his body glow slightly from the exertion of his impromptu redecorating. He angled his phone to show a grin, but the rest of his face was covered.
You took a few minutes to respond yourself and Dalton thought he understood your anxiety about having to wait for messages. He felt the anxiety was all the more potent now that you were sending each other photos of yourselves. But he couldn’t deny that he liked the tension, the anticipation ate him up and he was beyond keyed up.
You: “I got bored being here by myself so I’m doing my makeup :p”
You: “Oml, finally!”
You were kneeling in front of the camera with your legs slightly spread. The lighting in your room made it hard for him to see what your underwear looked like and he felt like a pervert for being disappointed. Probably not as bad as he would’ve felt before he knew that you reciprocated his feelings. Your hair was put up into an updo so it was out of your face and it reminded him of that Pamela Anderson hairdo that you complained about not being able to do. You looked beautiful, your makeup was darker than you normally had it, more like dark seduction than pretty fairy. Dalton wondered if that was on purpose.
He sent you a closeup selfie of half of his face, his eyes mostly angled down at the phone screen instead of the actual camera and a slight smirk on his lips. His neck, collarbones and one of his shoulders were on display for you as well
D: “Guess I got bored too. Your hair looks like Pamela Anderson’s, btw”
D: “I like your makeup, it looks good!”
You responded quickly and without a photo.
You: “Are you joking me?! The one time I’m not bending over backwards trying to do it right…”
Dalton had to take a minute to recover from the mental image of you bending over backwards, particularly the image of how your breasts would look at that angle when your next message came in with another photo.
You: “Come over?”
This time, your phone was placed close to the floor and angled up for Dalton to see your knees pulled up to your chest and you dramatically and exaggeratedly pouted at the camera, your dark red lips shining in the camera flash. The flash also, probably unintentionally, highlighted the junction between your legs and he could actually see your panties this time. White lace. Son of a bitch!
Instead of responding, he jumped around his room and tried to gather all of his shit to take to your place and was pulling up his jacket when he noticed some papers on his bed. His homework that he had told Chris about earlier and completely forgot about. It was due at midnight and his teacher was a hardass about homework.
“Fuck!” His curse echoed loudly in his empty and otherwise silent room and he slammed his things down on the bed in anger.
As desperate as he was to go to your room and potentially spend the night inside you, he was stuck inside his dorm unless he wanted his grade to tank. With a heavy heart and tense motions, he sat in his chair, a different one from his stool, and faced his mirror. He spread his legs so that he was man-spreading and propped a leg up on the edge of his bed. He held up his homework in one hand above his head and made a faux-angry face at the camera, his expression not even making at dent when it came to showing just how angry he actually was. He gave himself a minute of fantasizing about your lips kissing marks all over his body before snapping the picture and sending it to you.
D: “I was on my way when I remembered I had homework. Fucking sucks! Raincheck? I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning?”
He ordinarily didn’t curse over text, or in general. He wasn’t a prude about swearing, but he just didn’t feel the need to do it. However, he also needed you to understand that he wasn’t blowing you off, and then he genuinely was upset about not being able to spend the night with you. He felt it was probably too risky sending you a picture where he was very obviously at half-mast and worried that he was being too forward and would make you uncomfortable.
Two minutes of complete agony imagining all of the ways that you would dismiss him and tell him to forget about it, or get angry and misinterpret what he was telling you. Now that the conversation couldn’t go anywhere, the anticipation wasn’t alluring and fun, it felt like acid burning his skin.
You: “Oh, please do your homework! Grades are important. Breakfast sounds good! Goodnight x”
A kiss, you messaged him a kiss. And you were completely fine with it. For the first time in his life, Dalton felt the urge to do a chest bump with a bro. He was on top of the world right now. He was tempted to rush his homework and run over to you as soon as possible, but as soon as he sat down to do it, he knew that the assignment required all of his time and attention. Fortunately, the assignment itself was relatively simple, but it was incredibly time consuming, which is why he’d been putting it off.
Two hours later, he took some pictures of his completed homework and sent them to his professor’s email. It was fifteen minutes til midnight and he wondered if he should risk going over to you now. You weren’t expecting him, though, and for all he knew, you were asleep or something. He debated texting you that he was done and seeing if you’d extend the invitation to come over again, but you hadn’t even brought up his last picture and that made him a bit insecure. What if you were trying to just ignore it as a way to say you weren’t interested? Even back in your room, when your roommate was encouraging you to take advantage of having your dorm to yourself, you had only denied all of her sexual innuendos. He knew you liked him back, but maybe sending you a picture of like the one he sent was too much too fast?
Oh yeah, astral projector. He could always just pop in and check without actually having to check. It was fine the first time, right? No big deal anymore. He wasn’t hurting anyone.
He relaxed on his bed and before long, he was picking up that lantern once more and leaving his body behind, making sure that all of his lights were on to protect his body before he left the room.
You had been in your room with your door mostly closed when he came in again. You really should make sure your front door was locked, he thought. He heard little whimpers coming from your room and was immediately concerned, automatically assuming that you were crying. Your bedroom door was swaying on account of the industrial fan that you insisted was the only thing strong enough to keep you cool at night. He had no problem opening your door and putting it back in place, making it look completely natural in case you noticed.
From what he could see, you were looking at your phone and were mostly covered by your blanket. Only one of your hands was holding your phone, which Dalton found odd because you normally preferred using both hands. Finally seeing your face, Dalton noticed that you had no tears on your cheeks or in your eyes. You weren’t crying. What the hell were you looking at on your phone?
Him. You were looking at a picture of Dalton that he’d sent to you. More accurately, you were looking at the second photo he had sent you, the one where he was brushing his teeth. It took Dalton several moments to begin thinking again to put the dots together.
Oh. Oh.
Just as Dalton registered what you were actually doing, you threw your blanket aside in frustration and essentially showed him that he was correct. He watched in rapt fascination as you rubbed your clothed center over your panties with two fingers. You kept focused on your phone, swiping over to the photo of him after he hung up his mirror, as your index fingers slipped beneath your lacy white underwear and into your slick heat. Your breathing was loud and shallow, the occasional moan slipping through as you touched yourself.
Dalton should not be here. He knew that. He knew what was and what wasn’t appropriate, his mom made sure he knew how to respect women, so he knew what he was doing was the furthest thing from okay. He also knew that he would have to be dragged by his teeth to get him out of your room. His cock swelled and twitched from under his shorts as he stood over, watching you masturbate to a picture of him. In the low lighting of your mostly dark room, he could see the shine of your wetness on your fingers and over your folds. He wanted to drag his tongue over your labia and savor every drop you gave him. It was all for him, after all, he was entitled to it.
You groaned in annoyance through your teeth and yanked your panties down your legs. Dalton’s severely dilated gaze zeroed in on them and he made a mental note to grab them before he left when your shirt joined it in the floor. You were completely nude and sitting up on your bed, in a very similar position to the photo where you had shown him your makeup. He’d never look at it again without thinking of this. He wished he had a picture of this.
You looked like a goddess or some kind of celestial siren as you arched your back and groped at one of your breasts and toyed with your clit. The chill of your room and the sudden banishment of your blanket had your flesh covered in goosebumps and your nipples hard. Dalton wanted nothing more than to cover your body with his and discover new forms of pleasure using his tongue, hands and cock. You were everything, you surrounded him and took up so much everything. And yet, he wasn’t actually with you, no matter how much he wished he could be. He didn’t know why he couldn’t try, you were his now. You admitted to it. Maybe not to him directly, and maybe you didn’t know he was there, but it didn’t make it any less true.
Dalton approached your bed and was about to rest his weight on it when you grabbed a decorative throw pillow from the mountain of pillows you had on your bed. You shoved it between your legs and adjusted it so that the woven seams pressed between your folds. You rested your weight on it and rolled your hips experimentally to find a rhythm and angle that felt best. Soon, you were panting and gasping, and Dalton could barely hear you over the stupid fan.
As you rode the pillow, Dalton lost his restraint. He either had to take care of himself now and fully condemn himself as an actual peeping tom and a pervert, or take care of you and risk you freaking out and losing you before he could actually have you. He’d rather hate himself for a little while than you hate him forever. He reached into his shorts, cupping his erection and squeezing lightly. He bit his lips and tried to keep quiet. He didn’t think he would last long, and he didn’t really care to either. He’d worry about that once he was actually inside you.
Dalton started off with slow and trading strokes before working up to the rhythm you set for yourself. You were grinding down on the pillow with slow and long thrusts, lowering your body slightly so that the seam of the pillow rubbed your clit. Dalton imagined his face replacing the pillow and started speeding up the movements of his hand, spitting on himself to help his hand move more fluidly along his shaft. Coincidentally, you started to quicken as well, humping the pillow desperately instead of steadily rolling your hips.
“Dalton! Oh…fuck! Daltonnn…” you cried out softly into the seemingly empty room. As the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, you lost strength in your arms and fell to the mattress, your hips still moving rhythmically as you came. Your limbs felt electrocuted and twitchy, and you could do nothing but gasp and whimper as you came down from your high. Rolling over, you reached down and caressed your soaked folds, moaning softly as your fingers became coated in the stringy remnants of your wetness.
Dalton nearly fell to his knees in his desire to suck your fingers into his mouth and devour your cunt. Luckily, he managed to stay upright and went rigid as he came in his hands, making sure the pearly white spurts of semen didn’t make a mess anywhere in your room, if they could. He wasn’t actually entirely sure how it all worked when he was in this state, but he wasn’t going to risk it.
He waited until you fell asleep to grab your panties and leave your dorm, falling back into his own body and finding it a mess. His shorts were soaked at the crotch with his cum because his actual hands couldn’t stop his real orgasm from staining his clothes. He tore off his shorts and decided to sleep naked, hiding your panties in his pillow case.
*~*~*
You woke up refreshed and well-rested the next morning, still not used to the stillness and quiet in the absence of your roommate, Carla. Usually, she was up by now blaring metal music while she got ready for the day and you would make the two of you breakfast. You went to do just that when you heard a knock at your door and remembered that Dalton was supposed to come over with breakfast.
You told him to wait through a text message and grabbed a pair of athletic shorts, yanking them on as you made your way to let him in. Much to your surprise, the door was unlocked, though you don’t remember leaving it that way. In all fairness, you also don’t remember the last time you had locked it, so it was fair game.
Dalton greeted you with a large smile, showing off his extended canines, and a bag from your favorite pastry shop. It was hard not to blush after what you did when you saw the pictures he sent you, but the food was also distracting. You excitedly took the bag from him and started rifling through it as he guided the both of you to your room. Had he ever been inside your dorm before? How did he know which room was yours?
Before you could ask him, he plopped himself onto your bed and settled onto his stomach. He then used a pillow to prop up his chin. The same pillow you had used last night.
There was something about the way he was smiling at you. The way he was watching you.
“So, did you sleep well last night?”
********
Lemme know if you want a part two or maybe a “What if Dalton hadn’t had any homework?” situation.
This was super fun and sorry if it’s too long
pls if you can do a part 2 pf the dalton fic!!
Just posted rn, I would link it but idk how to do that from my phone, but it’s up close on my page🫶😊
ALL MEDIA I USE IN MY POSTS IS NOT CREATED BY ME. I SEARCH IT UP ON GOOGLE AND PINTEREST AND ALL CREDIT GOES TO THOSE TALENTED CREATORS
In honor of my newest series, i’ve decided to post a headcanon series to publish in between chapters so that y’all have something to read. Won’t be directly related to the series but can be kept in mind while reading. If y’all have a specific prompt you’d like to share, feel free to
Warnings: none, aside from a few foul language words, nothing to be concerned over
Random Quirks about the Boys
David:
* Cannot stand sweets, in any capacity, it hurts his teeth. Constantly thinks about cavities and diabetes even though he can’t get either. He just doesn’t like the flavor of sweet things, not even fruit. Marko once forced him to eat cotton candy and he tossed Marko off a cliff while struggling not to vomit.
* Knows everything there is to know about every metal band ever. It’s the only music he likes, with no variation, so he knows even the most underground bands. Even ones from out of state or other countries. And he’ll bring it up randomly into conversations with the others having no idea what he’s talking about. Max tries to learn to so David doesn’t feel isolated by it.
*Always the second to wake up at night. Sometimes the other boys will rotate between who wakes up first, it’s never planned, it just happens like that. But without fail, David will always wake up second, it’s weird and they don’t know how he does it. (Paul and Marko have tried multiple times to wake up at the same time and for some reason, it never works out and they always end up waking up first and third)
Marko
*This man has absolutely zero concept of personal space, it doesn’t even matter who he’s with or standing next to, he will always be just a bit too close. Strangers, children, old people. He’s banned from wandering off on his own for this very reason bc Max thinks he draws too much attention. Star and Laddie both love it tho
*Has experimented with pretty much every media of art and has settled into cooking, clothing up-cycling and mural painting. His absolute worst attempt was knitting, he couldn’t get the hang of it like the old ladies on tv and ended up throwing on of the needles into Paul’s eye
*Do not ask this man for anything if you need it. He will not have anything useful. No pens, gum, band-aids, tape, paper, snacks, drinks, hair ties, nothing. He will always have a needle and thread and a stapler if you need that though. He likes to click the stapler in his brothers’ ears and Dwayne had to buy Marko a new one after he crushed it in his hands one time. Dwayne wasn’t even sorry about it which is why Marko held a grudge for months even after it was replaced.
Paul
*He gets so easily distracted that you’ll have to redirect him at least three times every conversation. There is no other way. He will not notice most things without express direction and he won’t try to either. Like, if it’s important, you will let him know
*He takes the most time getting out the door when the boys go out. David has shirt hair, Marko has curly hair that just needs to be gelled, and Dwayne is just an asshole about it. Both Paul and Dwayne’s hair is similarly cut and yet Dwayne never has trouble with his, and nothing pisses off Paul more
*Super dramatic, easily the most dramatic out of the four. He will over react to literally everything and is super expressive. He has a really loud sense of humor that only Star, Laddie and Marko can really stand. And that’s not just out of the Lost Boys characters, that’s out of literally everyone he’s ever interacted with
Dwayne
*He’s secretly super competitive. Like, he’ll try to come off as aloof as David is, maybe even more so, but he is super competitive for the dumbest things. It’s not about girls, most sports, or kills when they feed. It’s about who gets out the door first (always him just to piss off Paul), or who’s bike is the cleanest in the mornings before they go to sleep, or who ate the most food. He’s competitive about things the others don’t care about in the slightest
*Always over prepared with literally everything. Has a canvas bag just full of the most random and useful shit that he either keeps with his bike or tied to his belt loops to carry with him. It looks weird when he does that. He usually carries it because of Marko and Laddie and they are always asking him for stuff wondering if he’s actually managed to bring it. It’s spooky, but he always does
*Talks in his sleep, a lot, every single night. Doesn’t move around or anything, he’s stark still, just hanging there and talking. It absolutely terrifies everyone and they all avoid sleeping within six feet of him. It even bothers Max and he’s had to talk to Dwayne about it multiple times. Dwayne had no idea that he does it until Max said something bc he just assumed the boys were complaining to mess with him
If it's okay can I please ask what animes you write for
Oh, love, it’s more than okay!😊 I write for MHA (not a huge fan of the fandom or the fanon version of the characters) Haikyuu!, FREE!, Jujutsu Kaisen, AOT, OHHC…
There’s more but currently I can’t think of any. If you have any requests, just lemme know, ‘kay?
Emmett Cullen would never fully understand how truly strong he was. He didn’t when he was a human and he sure as shit didn’t now that he was a vampire. He did, however, understand very well just how fragile certain things were. He knew to be careful with certain things.
He knew to not break the glass samples Esme had of expensive tiling when handing them to her. He knew not to squeeze the screws cupped in his hand as he watched Rosalie work on a new vehicle. Even after many incidents ending in violence, Emmett was very careful with anything that belonged to Alice.
Most importantly, at least lately, he knew to be careful with Bella.
His little sister. Sweet, accepting, hilarious at times. Pregnant, but his brother, with a child that was quite literally feeding off her life force.
Before all of this, he’d been careful with the small brunette, of course. For Edward’s sake. Then eventually, he grew quite fond of the clumsy girl. Bella had a unique sense of humor and a perspective that his family lost long ago. She was a breath of fresh air. And it helped tremendously that her tendency to accidentally hurt herself was endlessly entertaining. He didn’t mind being more careful if it meant having Bella around more.
Jasper on the other hand, was really over-aware of his strength and of Bella delicacy. A touch too cautious, the blond vampire worried that a strong enough breath would blow the young woman over. Not that he wasn’t happy for his adopted brother, but Bella was a polite and courteous stream of never-ending anxiety for Jasper.
His fears proved valid as Bella’s stomach bulged and her face hallowed and her eyes lost their sparkle by the day. She truly looked as though a breath might take her out. In Jasper’s mind, Bella was an ancient and tragic painting who’s beauty was lost to the ages: He saw her mortality differently as her time dwindled down to the due date of the unborn child within her.
As such, the brothers had a hard time being around their sister-in-law. The looming threat of the shapeshifters gave them a good excuse to stay away, but she was never far from their thoughts. The whole situation was depressing, which Emmett had never really experienced and Jasper was all to eager to not have to deal with.
“I’m so thirsty,” Emmett mumbled from his perch. He sat in a tree in the south-east corner of the house, diligently watching the tree-line.
“So is everyone else, shut up and wait your turn,” Edward hissed, slapping another book closed, its information on hybrid children was useless.
“Edward,” Esme chided gently. “You and Alice will be going when Rosalie and your father come home. It’ll be good for her to get away for a moment.”
Alice hummed her appreciation around the headache her gift was causing her.
They all winced as Bella groaned at the baby shifting inside her. Jasper tried his hardest not to pay attention to the wet sucking sound of blood coming up the straw as Bella attempted to calm the child. He felt so useless. It was his job to protect this family and all of its members and yet everyone was starving, and his new sister was slowly but steadily wasting away before his very eyes. Jasper had never grieved a human like this before and she wasn’t even dead. Yet.
“Jazz, you alright man?” He hardly even clocked Emmett’s hulking frame as he joined him from his stance atop the roof.
“She barely joined our family, and all this…” Jasper didn’t finish his sentence but he knew Edward heard the words none of them dared speak aloud.
“All of you need to stop. The baby, and Bella, will be fine. She’s far from the first mother who’s had a complicated pregnancy,” Rosalie warned as she and Carlisle stealthily rejoined the family.
Jasper held his tongue and let himself be washed away in Bella’s relief and happiness to see Rosalie. He loved how positive she was despite everything she was going through. It made him marginally more hopeful.
“And it might help a bit to be a little less glum around her. You don’t think she picks up on it, but she does,” Rosalie added too quickly and quietly for Bella’s human ears to pick up on.
Emmett heaved a big sigh and began dragging Jasper towards where Bella was surrounded by a mountain of blankets and the fast talking space heater named Jacob.
“Hey Bella-bear, what’s shakin’?” Emmett greeted as merrily as he could manage. Bella smiled with blood-stained teeth and the skin sagged a bit spring her mouth, but she seemed happy enough to see them.
“He is, on my bladder,” Bella jokes, gesturing to her distended tummy. They all let out a small chuckle for her efforts and tried not to look at her mottled flesh.
“He? Are you that sure it’s a boy? Maybe it’ll be a little miss?” Jasper adds from the corner he’s standing in.
Bella flushes a pretty, almost healthy pink and cradles her belly lovingly. “Before I knew, I had dreams of a beautiful baby boy, I can’t see him any other way.”
Emmett grinned and clapped his hands together loudly. “I agree, maybe I’ll finally have a version of Edward that’s fun to play with.”
Jacob snickered from his spot at Bella’s side and gently avoided the elbow she threw into his ribs.
“So what? You think Rose will let you toss around Edward Junior? Yeah, right!” Jasper jested, coming forward to sit on the floor near Bella’s feet.
“Certainly not!” Rosalie confirmed, cradling Bella’s small frame away from Emmett.
“Wait. Is that seriously going to be his name? Edward Junior?” Jacob snorted.
Bella blushed with embarrassment and Jasper could practically see smoke coming out of Rosalie’s ears as she glared at Jacob.
“Actually,” Bella began softly, “I was thinking of you too. EJ. Edward Jacob.” She smiled at her stomach and they all knew she was quite attached to the name already.
“Lame.”
All their heads whipped to Emmett who was smirking with humor. No one else looked amused, with Rosalie looking almost murderously at her husband.
“Why give him the names of two wimps when you could use the names of his totally cool uncles. Emmett and Jazz-man? See? It fits so much better,” Emmett reasoned as if talking to a child.
“I’m not naming my son ‘Jazz-man’,” Bella refused. Jasper nodded in agreement form the floor.
“Yes, I concur. Jasper is a fine name for a man without you butchering it.”
Emmett gasped in shock and held a hand to his chest mockingly. “I put so much effort into creating a namesake and this is the thanks I get? For shame, family, for shame.”
Bella giggled lightly at his antics and they all collectively smiled at her good mood. Jasper felt the baby’s happiness at hearing Bella’s laugh and felt his whole being shift into a lighter atmosphere.
He reached out to Bella and silently offered to read the baby. Her eyes gleamed in delight and she nodded eagerly, watching her stomach as if she could somehow see her son.
Her belly was almost as cool as his skin and significantly harder than a normal human’s, but Jasper still felt the hum of life within. He leaned in close so that the boy could hear him, too.
“How does it sound, Edward Jacob? You like it?” Jasper shared a feeling of brief amusement followed by rejection to everyone in the room and they all laughed along with the baby.
“See? He likes Emmett Jasper wayyyy better, Bells!” Emmett exclaimed heartily. The baby was feeling something that felt like laughter and Jasper could almost clearly imagine the cherub cheeked smile that matched Bella’s giggling along.
Bella shook her head while chuckling, the precious sound echoing in the large house.
“It is more modern,” Rosalie conceded to everyone’s surprise. “And the baby seems to like it.”
“He likes hearing Bella laugh,” Jasper corrected, picking up on the baby’s delight.
“And she laughs at you two doing stupid shit. Emmett Jasper is the perfect name for him,” Rosalie argued.
“How about we all just call him EJ and make a schedule? He can be Emmett Jasper every other week?” Esme suggested jokingly.
Emmett shook his head. “Absolutely not. Emmett Jasper or bust!”
He dramatically kneeled at Bella’s feet, clasping her small hand his humongous one. “Please, Bella, if you love your big brothers, you’ll do us the honor of giving your son a much cooler name.”
Emmett threw an arm around Jasper’s shoulder and pouted stupidly at the mahogany-haired girl. Jasper very pointedly does not pout, but he had to admit it himself that it would be nice to have his nephew named after him. He smiled encouragingly at Bella.
Said girl was watching the ceiling with humor, unable to believe the turn her evening took.
Smiling widely enough to dazzle, she agreed, “Fine. Baby Cullen will henceforth be known as EJ, Emmett Jasper.”
can we all agree that if emmett and jasper weren’t so depressed about bella drinking all the blood in the house, they would have convinced her that ej was a great name for a boy but it should stand for emmett jasper not edward jacob.
Guess who’s back, back again…still without a new chapter (it’ll come out soon, i promise)
For now tho, to feed the masses bc i didn’t really expect my works to get as much attention as they have
The Lost Boys Head Canon: Kissing
David:
*While David isn’t generally an affectionate partner, he has a very physical presence that can be very affective
*His kisses match his presence; they are very slow and seductive, he likes to entice his partner completely
*When he kisses you, it’s very precise, like there’s nothing else on his mind but every single little thing that he’s doing
*David will grab your chin and waist to make sure that you’re completely immersed in him and his kiss, he needs your complete focus to be on him, like his is on you
*He’ll usually only kiss you in private too, he feels like it makes the experience more special, since it’s all for you and you only.
Paul:
*I feel like Paul is a very openly affectionate person, and his kisses reflect that
*When Paul kisses you, it’s very sporadic, but sweet. Like, his mood will change mid-kiss and he’ll go from a simple peck to feral frenching in 0.02 seconds, or vice versa
*Honestly, it’s sort of like a game to him, with you trying to guess his next move or try to keep up with him, kissing him is just really fun
*Paul doesn’t really fully understand that different types of kisses, he knows there are multiple ways to kiss someone, but his main focus is that the act of kissing is enjoyable, he won’t get caught up in the different reasons you might wanna kiss someone
*he likes to twine his fingers with yours as you kiss, or he’ll stroke up and down your arms, he’d most definitely smile during the kiss too. Sometimes he’ll just walk up next to you and press a kiss to the side of your mouth and keep walking
Marko:
*A lot like Paul, he’s a lot more relaxed and open with affection, and thinks kissing should be light-hearted and enjoyable rather than anything else
*He will try to convince his brothers of this line of thinking -especially Dwayne- after kissing you
*To him, kissing you is like inventing religion, it’ll surpass the ages and affect the masses. He’s so cute and sweet about it. His kisses are definitely worshipful
*While not as romantic or thoughtful as his brothers might seem, his main priority when he kisses someone is that they enjoy it, so it’ll always be lowkey and simple so there’s room for conversation on how it feels without it being awkward
*He prefers the relaxed kisses for when you’re just within each other’s presence and are feeling affectionate, like a reminder that you love each other without saying anything
*Marko will definitely cradle your face or hold you in a hug when kissing you, full frontal, and he often laughs while kissing you too, just giggling in disbelief at how lucky he is
Dwayne:
*Every middle-aged-woman-who’s-obsessed with-trashy-airport-novel’s wet dream with the way this man kisses
*Its extremely sensual, almost obscene, and he will often deepen it bc he wants it to go further, and to be honest, it often does
*A lot like David, his affection is reserved for you, but in the way that he will get lost in you that he simply stops caring about the people who might see you
*You take his breath away and he has no other way to handle himself than to make you feel the same way. He’s a romantic, what can he say?
*He will pull you in by your clothing and hold you as tightly against his body as he can, he kisses you like he’ll never be able to again and it induces butterflies like crazy
when she says she doesn’t send nudes
Please Reblog is Your Blog is Safe for Non-Binary People.
If my mutuals can’t rb this then we can’t be mutuals
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