#college makeup

[sexygaywizard]

new yuri image for desperate lesbians just dropped

[funkle420]

Turbo Granny blunt rotation WIP

[icanseethefuture333]

Campus Hottie📓💒

[hysterotic]

✩ 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶𝑲𝒀𝑶 𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑿 𝑭𝑬𝑴!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹. 𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰𝑰

⚠︎ : vulgar language, shinichiro’s death mentioned, pregnancy and abortion mentioned once, another cute lil moment with kazutora except no coke is involved. temperature play, alcohol, usage of drugs, murder threats, violence, hanma has a dick piercing giggles mischievously and runs away, panty stealer!hanma and panty sniffer!kazutora, fingering, p in v, hanma calls you angel, forest sex, semi humiliation kink, you do keisuke's makeup for the halloween party.

<3 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 : kazutora hanemiya, baji keisuke, hanma shuji, rindou haitani.

vile’s note : keep in mind that the last part was very rushed and not proofread </3 i’ve got an exam in like 5 hours and i needed to finish this chapter before october so hopefully it's good enough. & thanks to @ljubimaya for helping me figure out a scene with keisuke, enjoy<3

𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑻𝑶 𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰 | 𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑻𝑶 𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑷 (𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻) | 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

flashlights cast eerie shadows across the walls as rindou moves about, cracking glow sticks and laying them around the cabin. you were all in black ghostface cloaks, sitting in a circle on the floor after rearranging the living room to create more space. yet, as the dim flashlight flickers, the scene begins to resemble something more akin to a satanic ritual.

you sat in a side-sitting position, body angled towards mikey’s whose head rested comfortably on your lap. rindou finally sits in the circle and begins to explain the game, carefully tearing pieces of paper and marking circles on all but one, which gets an 'x'.

“If you draw the piece of paper that has the ‘x’ on it, you are the murderer.. and you have to keep it a secret,” He whispers the last part, his speech slightly slurred from the shots he had earlier. he places shot glasses directly in front of each person, except Keisuke who waves off the shot glass before rindou places it, raising his beer bottle to indicate that he’s good with the drink he has.

“So, how do you play exactly?” you ask, twirling Mikey’s hair with your finger.

“You have to hit the lights before playing the game, which..” Rindou pauses, saying as if the power outage had done the job already. “we’ll be wearing the mask so no one will recognize one another or team up, and the killer won’t get real fuckin’ personal,” he mumbles the last part and swiftly glances at someone. Still, you don’t care to check who.

He pushes himself up to walk towards the counter, grabbing a bottle of vodka, lime, and salt for those who need it, and comes back, pouring it into each shot glass.

Before Rindou could continue explaining, Draken interrupts. “yo, Mikey.. you wanna..?”

Mikey nudges your hands off his hair to roll over on his stomach, facing Draken and resting his chin on your thigh, his sharp chin on your thigh making you hiss slightly at the pain, but he doesn't care. “hmm?”

Draken stands up, jerking his head to the side while walking toward the front door, “Y’know.."

“Oh, yeah. excuse me.. be right back.” Mikey starts to crawl toward where Draken is walking, standing up when he reaches the front door, you glance at Emma expecting an explanation, which she shrugs off.

Rindou clears his throat to continue, “Whoever gets the paper marked ‘x’ has to find the knife’s location that’s written on the back, and sneak around to find someone to kill, alone, with nobody around to witness the murder. If you come across a body, you have to yell ‘bodies bodies bodies!’ and then we’ll pull the body back here and try to figure out who did it within 5 minutes, if the timer’s up and nobody figured out who the killer is they’ll stay anonymous and continue to be the killer to keep their streak going.”

He finally reaches your shot glass, looking you in the eye as he pours. “Remember, you can’t trust nobody.”

“So, basically a game of hide and seek except we kill each other,” you note.

He reluctantly nods, “Guess you could call it that.”

Takemichi, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, speaks up, “I get stressed out every time we play this, someone always ends up beaten up,”

“Exactly what makes this game fun,” Hanma exclaims, his tone a little too excited for comfort.

You jump in, curious as to why Takemichi’s nervous about some game, “Why what happened last time?”

“It got ugly, that’s what,” Keisuke says, swallowing his beer before responding.

“Only because Mikey and Ken fought not that long before the game, so they kept butting heads,” Mitsuya adds.

“Still, that is not fun at all,” Takemichi says.

Rindou knocks back a shot glass, smacking his lips before opening his mouth to speak, “Let’s hope this time, somebody wounds up dead instead, you guys ready?”

Before anyone can continue, Mikey and Draken walk in, “Wait,” Mikey interrupts, glancing at Emma, who is sitting beside Draken on his left. “Emma, move to the right between Draken and her.” he points at you as he stands in the circle.

Emma furrows her brows, turning to look up at Draken who sinks next to her on the floor, “Why?”

Mikey’s expression softens slightly. “I prefer Draken to slap you rather than the rest of the guys, and you’ll be the one slapping her.”

Emma quickly complies, sliding over next to you with a wide grin, too excited at the fact that she gets to slap you.

Mikey then sits down, positioning himself between Rindou and Takemichi. Then Kazutora, who had been watching where Mikey would sit the entire time, nudges Rindou aside and takes a seat next to Mikey. earning a glare from Keisuke as if he knows what Kazutora’s planning. Huh, that was weird.

“Alright, who will do the honors?” Hanma says, crossing his legs and leaning back on his arms.

“Me,” Rindou volunteers, turning to his right to face Kazutora. he knocks back another shot in one go, then smacks Kazutora hard across the face.

Kazutora grunts but laughs immediately after, rubbing his cheek. he then turns to Mikey with a creepy smile on his face, brushing it away over the fact that he could just be coked out. he grabs the shot glass and tosses it back into his throat smoothly.

Mikey’s eyes narrow at him with a glare, to which Kazutora responds with a much harder slap than Rindou did. the sound echoes in the room, making everyone groan at him for that unnecessarily hard slap.

“The fuck, Kazutora?!” Draken yells, almost standing up but Mitsuya stops him, calming him down.

Mikey appears unfazed, adjusting his jaw, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face, you could swear that the color of his eyes just went darker than usual.

“What? It’s the game, chill,” Kazutora replies nonchalantly.

Mikey flexes his jaw, jerking his head to the side in a sharp, dismissive motion, shaking off the irritation as he tips back a shot, the burn of the vodka barely registering on his face.

He then turns to Takemichi, his expression softening at the sight of him, watching Takemichi squeezing his eyes shut. he hesitantly opens one eye, wondering why Mikey’s taking a while to slap him, Mikey’s mouth curves into a silent laugh at that. he raises a hand up and finally slaps him, making Takemichi hiss in pain, clutching his cheek and groaning exaggeratedly, earning a laugh from the guys. despite his initial reaction, he toughens it out, rubbing his cheek.

Takemichi sips the shot, his mouth twists into a grimace from the alcohol burning his throat. then turns to Keisuke, you can tell he’s intimidated by him. hesitantly, he slaps him, but it’s a weak effort, making Keisuke smile, his eyes narrowing as he tongues the inside of his cheek.

“Really?” Keisuke says, his tone mocking. Takemichi chuckles nervously, his eyes darting around the circle who were laughing at the weak tap he’d call a ‘slap’.

“Hit me again, harder, come on,” Keisuke insists, pushing his long hair back and leaning in, his eyes fixed on Takemichi.

Takemichi looks to Mikey, whose eyes are darting between him and Keisuke with an unreadable expression. he takes a deep breath, turning his head back to Keisuke, and slaps him harder. making him grin, “Goddamn..” he mutters.

“Are you mad at me?” Takemichi asks, his voice shaky.

Keisuke shakes his head no, but the gesture doesn’t reassure Takemichi at all.

You lean to whisper in Emma’s ear, “Why are we slapping each other exactly?”

“To give the killer a reasonable motive I guess,” she whispers back.

Keisuke takes a swig of his beer, turning to Chifuyu, and slaps him hard. making chifuyu wince, hissing in pain as he rubs his reddening cheek. he shoots Keisuke a mock glare before turning to Mitsuya.

Chifuyu then drains his shot in one go, feeling the warmth spread through his chest. he quickly slaps him, the impact making Mitsuya’s head jerk to the side. “Shit.” he laughs, rubbing his cheek and looking up at Chifuyu, who was chewing on a slice of lime with a smile. “I’ll get you for that,” he promises, his smile widening.

Mitsuya turns to Draken, almost excitedly, and then his eyes suddenly shift to you, locking onto yours as he licks the salt off the back of his hand and downs a shot. the liquid burns down his throat, but he still keeps a neutral face. he then looks back at Draken and gives him a solid smack in the face, making Draken’s head snap to the side. Draken laughs, a deep, rumbling sound. “goddamn, Mitsuya, was that personal?” he jokes. Mitsuya just shrugs, a soft smile on his face.

Draken then turns to Emma, his expression softening. he takes a shot while maintaining eye contact with her. she quickly tucks her hair behind her ears, offering her cheek. he gives her a solid slap, but not hard enough to harm, making her scoff and roll her eyes.

“Don’t go easy on me because I’m your girlfriend, Ken, c’mon!” Emma protests.

“Nah, you don’t know what you’re asking for little lady. now move on and slap her,” Draken nods at you, leaning back with his hands propped behind.

“Ohhhh yeah.” She giggles, remembering that she gets to be the one to slap you. She takes the shot and scoots closer to you. you roll your eyes at how extra she is as she affectionately cups your face, wiping away the excess mascara smudges under your eyes, and then slaps you hard enough to almost knock you off balance, making the guys collectively wince with some laughter.

“Fucking hell.. Emma!” You exclaim, rubbing your cheek from the burning sensation and glaring at her. Emma tilts her head in a challenging way, her grin still wide and cocky.

Shaking your head dismissively, you grab the shot glass and down it. turning to face Hanma, who seems a little too excited to get slapped by you right now. he licks his canine and leans down to make it easier for you, does he always have to show off that he’s taller than you every time?

You sigh, giving him a soft, shy tap on the cheek, making everyone yell at you for it, including him.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Chifuyu groans.

“Oh, c’mon, what was that?” Hanma says, his tone a mock of disappointment as if he’s talking to a kid.

“Put some muscle into it, new girl.” Keisuke encourages through his beer.

“I don’t bite, go ahead,” Hanma nods at your hand, staring at you with his hypnotizing heavy-lidded purple eyes. fuck, he can’t be looking at you like this, not right now.

You smile nervously, giving him another slap, firmer this time but not as hard.

he slowly blinks, “Seriously? fucking hit me,” Hanma insists.

“If anybody deserves a hard slap, it’s him,” Draken points at Hanma with his beer bottle, “I’ll finish this for ‘ya so you can smash it on his head.” He wiggles his beer.

“C’mon, his face is practically begging for it,” Mitsuya adds.

You glance at Mikey, who gives you an encouraging nod, and your sight then scrolls to Emma, who only gives you an eager nod. knowing her, she would probably kill to be in your position right now. you then take a deep breath, facing Hanma again, you straighten your posture in preparation, and this time you let loose with a solid smack that is hard enough to leave a soft red imprint on his face.

Hanma’s head jerked to the side a bit, biting his lips, he lets out a little hum, which sounded more like a growl. “Atta girl,” he praises, then downs a shot in the blink of an eye, turning to Rindou who took off his glasses in preparation, delivering a slap hard enough to almost knock him out of his position, but Rindou took it well.

he jerks his head to the side, “Jesus Christ, dude,” Rindou winces, he then clears his throat and shakes his head. “Alright, everyone turn around in your seat and put on your Ghostface mask,” he instructs. you all follow suit, putting on the masks and adjusting the cloaks.

“Now, stand up and shuffle around each other so no one knows who’s who, then pick up the papers on the table.” he continues. the group rises, moving in a chaotic, disorienting shuffle. some purposely bumped into you—definitely Mikey—while others suddenly grab your shoulders to startle you.

The group then moves toward the table, they reach for the folded papers, some squabbling over a single piece, while others snatch one and slip away quickly. unfortunately, you’re the last to approach the table. you pick up the final paper, slowly unfolding it, hoping to see an ‘x’ but to your luck, you find a circle marked on it. with a sigh, you crumple the paper before stuffing it into your cloak pocket.

You glance around the cabin, seeing nothing but the shadows of the guys in their cloaks walking away. good, no killer on your radar so far.

Your eyes land on the front door that was left open, as much as running around the woods would be easier than trapping yourself in a cabin with a killer, it’d be safer to stay inside where most of the group is, at least to have someone witness the murder instead of playing dead on the dirt.

You inch down the dark hallway, taking small, tentative steps, doing your best not to trip and fall on the glow sticks. the eerie glow from the flashlights disappearing the deeper you go into the halls. the atmosphere getting more and more sinister.

You make a few turns down narrow hallways, the sound of footsteps you were hearing before going distant, making you feel undoubtedly alone, and yet that thought scares you twice as much.

Eventually, you spot a closet big enough to hide in, before you even begin to think if hiding there the entire game is a good idea or not, something flickers in your peripheral vision. a slight shadow movement in the corner of the hallway, something lurking just beyond your sight. you quickly slip inside, hoping that your sudden movement didn’t alert whoever was at the end of that hallway.

The small space is cramped, hot, and pretty hard to breathe in, especially with this damn mask and cloak on. you remove the attire and slowly push back the hung coats, going deeper into the closet. the closet air is weirdly thick with the scent of cheap beer, maybe one of the coats has beer spilled on it.

You try to steady your breathing to listen intently for any sounds outside. But instead, you hear the soft sound of breathing next to you. your heart pounds as you turn slowly, only to come face to face with another figure in a Ghostface mask, looming over you and practically pinning you against the closet wall with his body.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare into the dark eyes of the mask, the sound of their breathing filling the small space. you can feel the heat radiating from their body, their presence both intimidating and familiar. the figure breaks the silence, his voice low and menacing, though unrecognizable. “You’re in my spot.”

You clench your fists, trying to maintain your composure. “The spot’s big enough for both of us.”

“Nah, you’re crampin’ it up. I was doing great alone.”

“Well, you’re just gonna have to deal with it ‘cause I’m not moving.” You cross your arms.

“Oh, you’re not moving now?” The figure tilts his head slightly, “and how are you so sure that I’m not the killer?”

Fuck, you didn’t think of that. You let out a short, nervous laugh. “W-what killer would hide in the fucking closet?!”

“A killer that’s waitin’ to pounce,” He replies, stepping closer.

“You would’ve pounced by now,” You retort, trying to sound braver than you feel, positive that he can hear the hammering beat of your heart.

“I would have,” he concedes, “or I could just rat you out to the killer right here, right now.”

Your eyes narrow. “What? you gonna start screaming?” You mock.

He shakes his head slowly, a creepy edge to his voice. “I’ll make you scream.”

“Oh, so cliche. You’re just gonna get us killed, dipshit!” You hiss, trying to keep your voice low.

“Think I care?”

Suddenly, you hear heavy footsteps nearby, growing louder with each step. your eyes widen in panic, and before you can react, the man clamps a hand over your mouth, silencing you. The rough texture of his glove presses against your lips, and you can feel the strength in his grip, since when were we required to wear gloves?

The footsteps stop just outside the closet door. Your heart races, ear ringing from the beat of your heart as you strain to hear for any movement.

There was a brief silence, an anticipation for the closet door to rattle. it was eerily quiet, not a sound from out the closet, but there was still a shadow standing in front of it as if trying to scare you out. you kept your fixed eyes on that shadow, not noticing the mysterious man in front of you lifting your skirt up.

Before you could react to that, you feel a sudden sharp cold chill jolt against your clothed clit, pulling a muffled gasp from you and making you stiffen at the sensation. your eyes dart from the eyes of the mask to whatever’s against your panties, seeing an open ice-cold ultra beer bottle, from which he responds by squeezing your face with his palm as if forcing you to keep your eyes only on him.

You attempt to struggle, grabbing his big arms or hitting his rock-hard chest and pointing toward the closet door with your eyes so he wouldn’t get us caught but he doesn’t budge. he has you pinned so hard against the closet wall that all you can do to squirm is arch your back. you hear him take a staggered breath, clearly enjoying your struggles, feeding off your fear.

You turn to see if the shadow that was in front of the closet is still there, it is, and yet the man shows no sign of stopping as he drags the ice-cold bottle down lower toward your entrance. almost emitting a moan out of you but all that came out was a whimper.

You want to hate this sensation so bad, you want to hate the fact that the tall guy, with a ghostface mask on his head—that looks a little too good on him than frightening—has you pinned against the closet wall with a freezing cold beer bottle against your pussy, shutting you up with his hand and the thrill of the killer opening the closet at any second and killing you both, you really do wanna hate it. but it’s just all too hot, you can’t even tell if the wet spot on your panties came from the beer or if it’s from you, hopefully, he doesn’t notice that too.

He gets closer to your face, “think you can keep that mouth shut?” he whispers, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek and neck as he nudges your panties to the side using the bottleneck. you didn’t respond, you don’t want to, you can’t. you don’t even know who you’re dealing with, and you sure as hell won’t be able to sleep with the fact that there’s a guy here that knows that you like to get fucked with a beer bottle like a cheap whore.

He uncovered your mouth but kept a grip on your face. you blinked up into his hollow “eyes”, you weren’t prepared for something like this at all, not a clue in that little brain of yours how to react. so you just sit there, choking out the desperate needy sounds that kept trying to escape your iridescent pink glitter lips. Oh, fuck. those lips that he’d kill to kiss right now, he wanted to bite it, he wanted to take your lip between his teeth and hear you moan. but your reaction to this was more than enough to fulfill his fantasies. there was uncertainty in your eyes, yes. but there was excitement too. such a fucking minx.

He never expected that type of look out of you, or for you to just sit there and take it. but shit, he’s not fucking crazy to be complaining about this. “Got a fuckin’ clue how hard it was to hold back with you runnin’ around the camp in that skirt of yours?” the man strains.

“h-huh?”

“Don’t play innocent now.” he cuts you off, “glad you didn’t keep that cloak on or I would’ve ripped it off of you.” he starts circling the tip of the bottle against your clit slowly, teasing you, torturing you. “Make everyone see that you’ve got taken advantage of, bet you would’ve liked that huh?”

“Who are you..?” you manage to whisper out, looking back at the closet door, seeing that the shadow’s gone, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him again, “Tellin’ you would ruin the fun.”

Just as you were about to feel the bottle being inserted, you hear a muffled shout from across the cabin, “bodies bodies bodies!” the call echoes through, making him step back, the cold feeling on your cunt that you started to crave now gone. “guess the fun’s over.” he murmurs disappointedly, he slips out of the closet, and before you know it he was gone from the hallway.

You continue to sit there, bewildered as you adjust your panties and put on your cloak and mask, not for the game but to hide the shame plastered on your face. Your heart hasn’t stopped racing since then, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced and yet it was with someone completely anonymous, to be honest, you don’t wanna find out who it is, just to save yourself the embarrassment.

You step out into the hallway, walking towards the glow of the flashlights in the corner like it’s a safe spot. As you approach the living room, you spot everybody already there except three people. All also holding a bottle of beer except one whose cloak looks oversized and has a blue glow around their neck, assuming it’s either Emma or mikey. this doesn’t narrow it down for you at all, who the hell could the closet guy be?

You then see two Ghostfaces dragging a body across the cabin floor, they drop the body’s limbs onto the floor and it dramatically plops, whoever’s dead is having too much fun playing it.

The group crowded around it, finally taking off their masks including you. Chifuyu steps in closer to the body, grabbing the mask and pulling it off, revealing Rindou Haitani.

Hanma dramatically gasps at the reveal, Takemichi then steps forward with a half-assed attempt at a eulogy, “Here lies, Rindou Haitani, known around the community, and was such a, uh, he was..” there’s an awkward silence as he scratches his head and looking around at the circle as if asking for help.

Hanma then steps forward, “He was such a genuine person.” he shakes his head exaggeratedly, Oh he’s so drunk. “Who would throw the craziest parties.. he was so sweet and kind, considerate and loving..”

“Alright, you’re draggin’ it.” Draken cuts in, earning a kick in the leg from Rindou, he then sits up from the floor and settles into the couch, pointing at Takemichi and Draken. “remind me to blacklist you two from my funeral.” he says, “Go on! guess who killed me.” He sits back and observes with a grin, loving the attention on him.

You raise a hand up, “I vote Emma,” You interject. “The second you grabbed that paper, you vanished. Seems like someone was a little too excited to be a killer.”

“True, saw her waddlin’ away quick at the glance of her paper” Hanma chimes in, earning a nasty glare from Draken.

“Bitch, please! If I were the killer, I would’ve picked you as my first victim,” Emma retorts at you, crossing her arms defiantly under her oversized cloak.

“You hear that, guys? If I end up dead in this game, vote her out!” you declare, pointing accusingly at Emma.

"Do you hear that, guys? If I end up dead in this game, vote her out!” You declare, pointing accusingly at Emma.

“Nah, if we’re sticking to how the game works, it’s usually who got slapped by the victim, and that is…” Draken points accusingly at Kazutora.

“I also vote Kazutora, he’s oddly too quiet for a game like this,” Emma adds, eyeing Kazutora suspiciously.

“Don’t point no fuckin’ fingers at me. How about we point the fingers at who found the body?” Kazutora shoots back.

“That’s a great point, Hanemiya!” Hanma exclaims enthusiastically, Draken rolls his eyes at Hanma’s inconsistency, “Don’t invite this man for jury duty.” Draken mutters to himself.

“So, who found the body?” Mitsuya leans casually against the couch arm.

“I did, but I had Mikey nearby to witness!” Takemichi steps forward nervously.

“We said no teamin’ up,” Keisuke interjects, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“We just bumped into each other and found the body,” Mikey explains.

“Wait, how did you know that was Mikey?” Chifuyu asks curiously.

“The height,” Takemichi replies, prompting nods of understanding from the group. “The hell?!” Mikey retorts.

“Was the killer the size of a gnome, Haitani?” Keisuke asks, ignoring Mikey’s pout at him, which Rindou mimed, zipping his lips shut and locking it with an imaginary key.

“Alright.” Keisuke stands up, beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “Mikey and Takemichi have each other as an alibi, and two people voted Kazutora.” He then turns toward Kazutora. “You have yet to give us an alibi, where were you?” Keisuke steps closer to him, who maintains a neutral smile.

“I wasn’t even in the cabin, I was outside. Whoever was sitting here first can vouch for that,” Kazutora asserts confidently.

Mitsuya raises his hand. “I was here first, and I did see someone come in from outside the cabin.”

“What were you doing outside the cabin, Kazutora?” Draken questions skeptically.

“Least likely for the killer to find me easily, and a good space to run. C’mon, Ken, you’d know that’s basic horror movie logic,” Kazutora explains, taking a sip of his beer nonchalantly, so Kazutora’s not the closet guy since he was outside, that should narrow it down for you.

“Hmm, hey Emma.. you’re real quiet, tell us your alibi,” Mikey interjects, attempting to corner Emma.

“I was at the balcony.” She replies confidentially.

“Why the balcony?” You cut in.

“’Cause I could hear if the killer walked up the stairs, and I have a good view of the outside of the cabin, duh,”

“Seems like everyone’s got a real good reason why they were at their places,” You observe suspiciously, earning surprised glances from the group that had you a little nervous.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook now, new girl. You were the first one to accuse too, where were you?” Keisuke steps closer to you, his tongue lingers around the top of the beer bottle for a little too long, taking a sip of his beer as his gaze locks onto yours, trying to read you. Fuck, you can’t afford to break a sweat right now, not when you’re being interrogated by none other than him.

“I was hiding in a closet, and I never left it the entire time,” You assert, crossing your arms defensively. “What about you, Baji? Don’t think just because you’re the one interrogating us doesn’t mean you’re not a suspect,” You redirect the attention to him instead.

Suddenly, a ringing sound echoes from Rindou’s phone. “Times up!” He announces, “The killer gets to stay being a killer next round, and the dead.. shall remain dead.” Rindou says in a mock-ominous voice and goes back to playing dead on the couch, almost looking like an excuse to nap.

A chorus of scoffs and groans fills the room at the sound of the alarm. You turn to Keisuke again, his eyebrows jump at you in amusement, his neutral face forms into a smug smirk. Lucky little shit, until next time, Ghostface.

Everybody reluctantly turns around, putting their masks back on and walking away, as you move to follow, a tall figure bumps into you, seeing a familiar sight of possibly the same guy in the closet, same height at least. He raises a hand, points two fingers at his own hollow “eyes”, then directs them toward you as he disappears into the halls.

You ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you scan the living room for hiding spots, your eyes landing on the front door. Maybe Kazutora’s idea isn’t so bad. You walk toward the front door and slowly twist it open, closing it quietly behind you, you keep your eyes on the door in case someone follows you out.

It was pitch black out, the only noises were the rustling of trees and crickets. Regret creeps in for leaving the cabin, but you can’t go back now—that’ll draw attention.

You approach the woods to camouflage your appearance in case the killer’s out here, not going too deep in, staying near the camp and scanning around it. You crouch down behind a tree and fix your eyes on the cabin, seeing occasional black figures walking by the windows, almost reassuring in your opinion.

Then unnervingly, it went completely silent, the cricket noises that once comforted you were now dead quiet, making you a little too aware of your surroundings.

You can’t seem to shake the sense that you’re being stalked, watched, that you’re not alone right now. Your senses are heightened as you start to hear unnatural leaf movement, like crushing it or moving it, you whip your head toward where you think the sound is coming from, you’re not sure what it is exactly but you don’t like it at all.

You want to call out, ask who’s there, but the rational part of you tells you it’s just a mind trick, it does that when it’s pitch black and silent, it makes appearances and noises out of nothing, it’s just your brain playing tricks, that’s all it is, you are completely and absolutely fine.

Then suddenly your spine tingles, somewhere nearby you hear footsteps creeping behind you a little too close, hair prickling along your scalp as your brain screams at you to run, and what would a rational person with survival instincts do?

That’s right, you bolt, not even thinking about investigating what it was, no matter if it was an animal or the wind you’re getting out of there. You run as fast as you can toward the cabin, pushing the doors open enough to have them slam against the walls, and the first thing you see standing in the living room is somebody in a Ghostface mask, holding a knife that does not look plastic.

Panic surges through you as you turn toward the hallway and continue to run. Cause no way in hell are you going back out there and having him and whatever’s waiting outside to chase you. You hear footsteps pounding behind you, your lungs start to burn and your legs feel like lead, but you don’t stop.

Suddenly, you run into another Ghostface emerging from a hallway. Making you crash into them, your instincts forcing you up as quickly as possible. “I’m really sorry!” You apologize to whoever you knocked down, bolting away again.

Breathless and disoriented, you sprint down the hallway, heart pounding in your chest. You glance over your shoulder to see if they’re still chasing you, but it’s hard to tell in the dark.

You quickly turn a corner and find yourself in the living room again. Your breath coming in ragged gasps, heart pounding in your chest. The sound of your footsteps echoes in the dimly lit cabin. You quickly glance around, eyes darting from shadow to shadow, half expecting Ghostface to leap out at you.

Rindou, who’s still sprawled across the couch, body motionless as he continues his charade of being dead from the last round. But when he hears you enter, one of his eyes slowly cracks open, “Hey, you good?” His voice calm, almost lazy.

You nod, still catching your breath. “Yeah… yeah, I just got chased.”

You walk over toward the couch he’s lying on and sink down onto the floor, leaning against it, your legs are still trembling from the adrenaline.

“Yeah?” Rindou’s tone is light as if this is just another round of the game. He shifts slightly on the couch, one arm draping over the backrest. “I just heard them yell out ‘bodies bodies bodies’ just now.”

Shit, how come I didn’t hear that? Whoever’s dead right now is your fault, but you couldn’t help it. Whoever was chasing you took the game a little too fucking seriously.

You hear the couch springs creak behind you, seeing Rindou peering over at you in the corners of your eyes with a smirk as if he’s amused by your reaction. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Are you sure you're good?”

Before you can answer him, the rest of the group begins to gather, removing their masks. Spotting everybody except Takemichi. You fixed your eye on the front door, waiting for someone to walk in but nobody did. Was that all in your head?

Draken drags in the body and places it in the middle of the room. Everyone circles around as Draken kneels down and removes the mask, revealing Mikey lying face-down, playing dead with an exaggerated stillness.

Emma drops to her knees beside him, her gasp over the top as she clutches her chest. “Ohh noo! My big brother..” She wails as he leans over his body, pretending to cry into his chest, her shoulders shaking with fake sobs.

You crawl over to sit beside Mikey’s “lifeless” form, tucking his hair behind his ear to see his face better, silently apologizing for being the one who accidentally got him killed.

Chifuyu speaks up, “Okay, so do we have any nominations?”

“Yeah, I’m for sure voting Emma now,” Draken accuses.

“Ohh, coming in hot,” Mitsuya crosses his arms, leaning against the fireplace wall.

“Why do you think it was Emma?” You ask, still looking at Mikey, why is he still playing dead?

“Yeah, why do you think it was me, Ken?”

“Because she agrees with everything that everybody’s saying to try and steer it away from herself. That’s her strategy in the game, and it always works.” Draken explains.

You tap Mikey’s shoulder repeatedly to try and wake him up, but he’s not budging.

“Do we have any other nominations?” Rindou speaks up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead? Shut the fuck up,” Keisuke retorts, earning a glare from Rindou, and yet he still complied.

“Yeah, I nominate Draken,” Kazutora cuts in.

Draken rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue. “Seriously? It’s a low-hanging fruit.”

“I mean, he who casts the first stone,” Kazutora shrugs.

“Guys, why isn’t he moving?” You nudge Mikey’s cheeks, “Mikey, get up.”

“Mikey, you don’t have to keep pretending for this long,” Emma pushes him.

Chifuyu sits next to Mikey’s body, pushing him to face up. He’s still playing dead.

“The hell?” Emma starts to shake him aggressively, starting to freak out, “Manjiro, fucking get up. It’s not funny anymore,” She tugs his arm up but he still doesn’t move an inch, “Guys, he’s not getting up.”

“Relax, he fell asleep.” Draken steps closer and leans down toward Mikey’s body, holding the neck of the bottle and nudging the cold bottle on Mikey’s crotch, making him yelp and immediately sit up from that, holding his crotch. “Fuck, that was cold!”

Emma punches him in the shoulder. “That wasn’t funny at all,”

Mikey grumbles, a little grumpy over the fact that he was woken up. He then looks around, as if searching for somebody. “Wait, where’s Takemichi?”

“Probably playing dead somewhere, poor guy.” Chifuyu snorts.

Mikey raises a brow, “We need to find him, he probably didn’t hear the call.”

“Alright, but… what about Kazutora?” Draken points at him, ignoring Mikey.

“Maybe it’s Draken. He’s always really aggressive when he’s the killer,” Mitsuya notes.

Kazutora snaps his fingers and points at Mitsuya. “There you go.”

“What? No, I am not,” Draken gulps.

“You’re lying. You always gulp when you lie,” Mitsuya continues teasing.

“It would be so fucking obvious if I were the killer, which I’m not.” Draken defends.

Kazutora sighs out of frustration. “Guys, Jesus Christ, can we just point out how Draken hasn’t said a fucking word to defend himself? No alibi, nothing! He’s just denying shit.”

Mikey crosses his arms, giving Kazutora a hard look. “you aware that we’re still playing a game here Kazutora? Quit pointing fingers at Ken and just admit that it was you, take responsibility for once.”

Kazutora’s frustration bubbles over as he points his finger at Mikey. “Ohoho… I don’t need to hear jackshit from you, Mikey. you always act like you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

Mikey’s expression doesn’t waver, his tone remaining cold. “what I’ve got figured out is that you can’t handle the truth. you’re the killer, Kazutora. just own up to it, it’s getting late.”

Rindou, lounging on the couch with a bag of chips in hand, suddenly cuts in, nudging Mikey’s shoulder with his foot. his voice is sing-songy, muffled by the crunching. “Dead people don’t taaaalk.”

Everyone ignores him, their focus entirely on Kazutora and Mikey. Kazutora’s eyes narrow, his frustration turning into something darker. “ohh own up to it, huh? let’s not forget what you did to Sanzu. nobody was at your throat for that, were they? cause poor Mikey.. he didn’t even know what was going on when he did that shit to Sanzu’s face!”

Keisuke steps forward, trying to diffuse the situation. “Kazutora, that’s enough.”

Kazutora pushes Keisuke aside, his wide eyes still locked on Mikey. “but when I make one mistake—one fucking accident—everyone’s ready to crucify me but Mikey gets a free pass? why? I don’t get it.”

“That’s different-“

Kazutora cuts in with a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and grating. “different? how? because it was you, it’s okay? but when it’s me, I’m a fuck-up, right? I get called a murderer, that I’m fucking psychotic for that?”

Draken shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting between Mikey and Kazutora, “Kazutora, calm down—”

Kazutora cuts him off, yet again. “no, I’m not gonna calm down. I’m done taking shit for something that was never my fault. all of you, you’re all fucking hypocrites.”

Mikey stands up from the floor, taking a step forward, and puts his hands up toward Draken to stop him from interfering. “at least I took responsibility for it in the end. you, on the other hand, continue to blame everybody but yourself.”

Hanma, who’s lounging on the couch next to Rindou, snickers as he watches them. “sounds like somebody’s feeling guilty. maybe you’re the killer, after all, Kazutora.”

Kazutora’s frustration reaches a boiling point as he snaps back, his head twitches to the side. “guilty? you’re all so quick to accuse me just because I’m not falling in line like the rest of you. I had to live with that shit for years behind bars while all of you welcomed Mikey with open arms right after he fucking stabbed somebody in the face!”

Draken glares at Kazutora, moving closer. “What’s up your ass Hanemiya? what’s gotten you so pissed like this huh, you on something?”

Kazutora scoffs, shaking his head. “don’t you start with me, Draken. don’t you got other shit to worry about?”

“Tora, shut the fuck up, right now.” Keisuke interrupts, attempting to calm him down before he says something he shouldn’t.

Draken’s eyes narrow dangerously. “and what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Kazutora hesitates to speak, eyes darting between Keisuke and Draken, and for a split second at Emma. he couldn’t hold back as his frustration is tipping him over the edge. “you can barely keep your shit straight with your girl, Ken. you’re no better than any of us. focus on that instead of sticking your head where it shouldn’t, would you?”

Mikey takes a step closer, his voice low and threatening. “Keep my sister out of this conversation.”

Hanma almost choked on his beer, “Woah, woah.. what did I miss now?” eyes darting between Emma and Draken.

The room goes still. Emma’s jaw dropped, slowly turning her head toward Draken, her voice trembling slightly. “You told them about that?”

“Hold uuup, what does he mean by that?” Hanma stands up enthusiastically as he attempts to interfere but gets dragged back down the couch by Rindou, not wanting him to ruin the argument he’s so obviously enjoying.

Draken’s head snaps toward Kazutora, eyes narrowing. “how do you know about that? huh?” he then scans the room, “Who the fuck told him that shit? We're telling everybody our business now?”

Then silence, the room’s atmosphere shifts into something you need to get out of, now. “everybody? what the fuck do you mean ‘everybody’?” kazutora’s voice drops an octave.

Draken scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “oh, we’re just gonna ignore the elephant in the room now?”

Keisuke quickly moves to stand between Draken and Kazutora. “Ken, let’s talk about this later,” he then turns to Mikey, whose expression is completely unreadable.

“No, no. Keisuke, let him continue, what fucking elephant in the room? elaborate, c’mon!” Kazutora nods, trying to pick a fight. Keisuke turns to Draken to observe his reaction in case he lunges. seeing his eyes completely blown out and dilated, Keisuke’s eyes narrow at him. “Ken, did you use?”

he ignores him, his focus on Kazutora completely. “Elaborate? fine, I’ll fucking elaborate. when you were in prison, everybody was relieved you were gone. manjiro was relieved, you think any of us gave a shit about you? huh?”

Mitsuya quickly pushes himself off the wall, moving towards Draken, “Ken, calm down, you’re drunk.” he places a hand on Draken’s chest, trying to create a distance between him and Kazutora—who stays silent, his heart beating rapidly.

“the only person that gave a rat's ass about you was Keisuke, why? because he feels responsible for that. he doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

in a blink of an eye, Keisuke steps forward, around mitsuya, and swings a punch at Draken, his fist connecting with Draken’s lip with a strong thud. Draken stumbles back from the impact, his lip split open and blood streaming down his chin.

“You don’t know shit, Ken. so shut the fuck up.” Keisuke spits as he shakes his hand, shaking it up and down to ease the throbbing pain, his knuckles are already forming redness, you didn’t realize how hard that punch must’ve been.

Draken wipes the blood from his chin, still glaring at Kazutora. “I wish you got your head bashed in instead of him, Kazutora.” He growls, the blood staining his bared teeth red. “You spineless piece of shit.”

Mikey’s eyes went dark, and all you saw was a blur of motion and a strong thud. seeing Draken being knocked off his feet, with his head hitting right onto the floor.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Mikey’s voice is low, deadly calm as he looms over Draken, whose jaw is open, completely not expecting Mikey’s reaction to be this severe.

Still facing Draken, Mikey shoots Kazutora a glare over his shoulder. “Don’t think I’m defending you, Hanemiya.. you’re still dead to me.”

Kazutora, breathing heavily, with his pupils being a frightening dot. he reaches his hand to the beer bottle on the floor, fingers curling tightly around the bottle, slamming himself on the head with it before holding the jagged glass out toward Mikey, his hand trembling with rage and whatever he took before. “I’ll show you who’s really fuckin’ dead, Mikey! I’ll kill you!”

Mikey doesn’t even move an inch, there’s something terrifyingly calm about his demeanor that you can’t really put a finger on, but it feels like time has frozen now, either that or you're just too shocked to move.

“Go ahead, try.”

Kazutora’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his hand tight around the glass. he swings it toward Mikey with reckless fury, but before he can land the blow, Chifuyu and Keisuke rush in, grabbing him by the arms and holding him back.

“Get off me!” Kazutora roars, thrashing violently in their grip. his eyes were wild, full of rage and something else—but it was too dark to tell.

Draken finally pulls himself to his feet, wiping more blood from his mouth, his eyes locked on Mikey with disbelief, as if he didn’t expect him to knock him down. there was a silent exchange between them, his eyes still locked on Mikey. But before Draken can voice his thoughts, his attention shifts sharply to Kazutora.

Draken steps in front of Mikey, his large frame acting as a shield, a shocking sight after seeing him get kicked in the head.

“I’ll fucking kill you all, I swear!” Kazutora yells, still clawing and twisting against Keisuke and Chifuyu. his voice strainer and raw.

Draken spits a wad of blood onto the floor, scoffing. he sneers at Kazutora. “yeah, you’re real fuckin’ familiar with that—“

“Enough.”

Mikey quickly cuts him off, his tone tolerating no argument, so commanding, that even kazutora falls silent for a split second.

Keisuke let go of Kazutora’s wrist, taking Kazutora’s silence as a chance to step in between, casting a wary glance at the three, ready to intervene again if necessary. “this is getting us nowhere, alright? let’s just go to bed, It’s late.” he then grabs Kazutora’s wrist and forcefully pulls him out of the cabin, leaving no room to argue. “we need to talk.”

As Kazutora and Keisuke leave, Mikey shoots Draken a quick glare, “I’m gonna look for Takemichi.” he leaves the cabin, heading toward the forest. the rest follow him out, heading toward the boys’ cabin. mitsuya kept close to Draken just in case, while you and Emma—still shocked from the scene—trail behind, not noticing hanma running to catch up next to Emma.

“Could’ve called me when your boyfriend couldn’t hit the spot for you.. you know I’ll always answer,” Hanma teases loudly. Draken overhears and spins around, throwing a punch that lands squarely on Hanma’s face.

Hanma staggers back but then starts laughing, wiping a smear of blood from his lip. “really? that all you got?” he taunts. Draken lunges again, fists flying. Hanma dodges and laughs, his mocking tone only making it worse.

Mitsuya, Rindou, and Chifuyu rush in to break up the fight, grabbing Draken’s arms and pulling him back.

“He’s trying to get on your nerves, Ken. calm. the fuck. down,” Mitsuya says firmly, blocking Draken’s punches with his hand.

Draken, panting heavily, looks down at mitsuya and then fixes a hard glare at hanma, yanking his fist away from Mitsuya’s grip. he then storms off towards the boys’ cabin. hanma—still chuckling—walks towards a different cabin with Rindou following behind, their laughter echoing through the camp.

You put a hand behind Emma’s back, caressing it. “let’s just go.” you gently push her towards the girls’ dorm. quietly, you open the door and tiptoe inside, heading towards your bed with Emma still following close behind. before you collapse into your bed you quickly change into something comfortable as Emma stares into the distance, sitting on your bed, her face unreadable but clearly exhausted.

When you finally slid on your tank top, you heard Emma sniffling. “Emma? hey, are you crying?” you sit next to her, scooting closer to her to rub her back soothingly.

“I just.. didn’t think he’d get brought up like that.” she whispers, wiping away her tears with her palms, but more keeps pouring down her cheeks. “I don’t know why he’d do that, we were playing a stupid fucking game then suddenly, I..” she starts to choke on her words.

“Shh, it’s okay.” she quickly turns to hug you, squeezing you a bit too tight but you don’t complain, quietly sobbing on your shoulder, she continues to blabber incoherently but you don’t stop her, you run your fingers through her hair as an attempt to soothe her but it only made her cry more. “it’s okay Emma.”

Still, you can’t shake the image of her reaction when Kazutora brought up her and Draken. it lingers in the back of your mind, nagging at you. now that you think about it, you can’t seem to remember any issues they’ve had except for the fact that he took too long to confess. but this isn’t the time to pry, deciding to leave that conversation for another time, when she’s ready to tell you.

After a moment, she loosens her grip and pulls away, her eyes red and puffy as she holds onto your hand. “can i sleep in your bed tonight?” she asks, her voice small and shaky.

“Of course, you can come here.” you crawl under the covers, to your side of the bed, making room for her next to you, pulling the covers up for her to lay in. She lays down next to you, facing you while still having her fingers intertwined with yours. “thank you.” she sniffles. “goodnight..” she buries her face into the blanket, refusing to let go of your hand, even when it’s disgustingly sweaty, but you’ll brush it off for her.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

You jolt awake, heart pounding, drenched in cold sweat. For a few seconds, you’re still caught up in that nightmare. Your adrenaline races as you run from the masked killer, desperate to escape brutal death.

Even as your eyes slowly adjust to the walls of the cabin, you can still feel the masked killer nearby, stalking. Hunting us one by one. It doesn’t help that the location you are in happened to have a similar fate to your nightmares.

Your feet kick at the sheets as sweat pours off your body. Rolling over onto your side and reach for Emma, only to realize that the bed is empty. Guess she might’ve gone back to her own bed at some point.

Fuck, you need air. Now.

You throw the covers off your body completely and slid in your fluffy black slippers, moving toward the front door and slowly opening it to avoid any sound.

Once again, it’s pitch black, no winds, no rustling trees, just quietness. You lean against the porch rail, staring into the night sky, searching for the moon as you take a deep breath.

You hear the faint sound of metal clicking as if somebody was sharpening or playing with a knife. Ignoring the goosebumps, you scan your surroundings, peering around the trees, spotting a figure leaning against a tree a little way off, flipping what seems to be a butterfly knife in their hand. You squint, trying to make out who it is.

He ran his fingers through his long hair and sighed heavily as he gripped it, it’s Keisuke. He looks frustrated, apparently, you weren’t the only one who’s having a bad night.

He flipped the knife again. His fingers were quick and light as the blade swung out. The metal appeared impossibly fluid as he manipulated it through the air, making it look easy, like it was second nature. He played with it for a while without much focus, staring off into the trees as if distracted by something in the distance.

You quickly wipe underneath your eyes, hoping to catch any smudged mascara or eyeliner, and quietly make your way toward him. The leaves crunch softly under your slippers. As you get closer, Keisuke turns his head slightly, still staring ahead. Before you can say anything, he brings the knife to his lips, shushing you. He then points at something with the knife still in hand.

Following his gesture, you see a baby deer standing at the edge of the clearing. It looks peaceful, completely unaware of the human presence nearby. The scene feels almost surreal after the nightmare you just had, almost like you needed a little pureness after that, but it didn’t help seeing Keisuke dragging his thumb across the sharp knife while staring at the poor innocent deer, you were suddenly feeling a hell of a lot warmer.

You cross your arms, still staring at the deer, opening your mouth to speak quietly, “Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your alone time,”

“Hardly alone.” His deep voice rolled out, making the hair on your skin stand. He flips the knife closed and tucks it in his pocket.

“Seen it’s mom yet?”

He shakes his head in response.

After a few minutes, the deer raises its head, its ears flickering as it senses something. It looks around, then suddenly bolts into the woods, disappearing into the darkness.

You and Keisuke glance at each other, then back to where the deer ran off. “Think there’s a predator around?” You ask.

He made a sound that could have been a laugh, but he wasn’t smiling. “Guess you could say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Could be a ghost.” He teases, finally facing you, seeing that your cheeks are swollen and your eyes heavy with sleep. “What’re you doing awake?”

“Had a bad dream.. couldn’t sleep after.” You glance up at him, noticing a couple of bruises on his cheek and a cut on his lip and jaw, almost deep enough to have blood dripping down his neck. “Jesus, you look like shit. What happened?!”

He takes a minute to think before answering. Contemplating if he should just tell you but decided to be careful around his words. “It’s nothing don’t worry about it.”

“Let me patch you up at least.”

His tongue swirls over his bottom lip, licking the bleeding cut. “No need.” He mutters as he wipes the blood off his jaw with his thumb,

“You’re gonna get an infection like that. Hold on, I’ll be back.” You head back into the cabin, searching for the first aid kit you brought with you, a cold water bottle, and your phone for the flashlight. Thank god you didn’t listen to Emma when she told you that an aid kit would be useless to bring, now you got an excuse to get close to him and maybe be his little personal nurse.

Returning to him, you find him still leaning against the same tree, staring off into the distance. He turns toward you, giving you a quick once-over, his eyes landing on the tank top you’re wearing with a printed band logo on it.

“What do you know about that band, huh?”

You stop in your tracks, squinting at him. “What do you know about that band?” You step closer and sit right in front of him, patting his bloodied boot and ignoring how painful it feels to sit on the forest ground. “C’mon, sit.”

He stands there staring down at you for a minute, his gaze intense, this position only making your body even warmer than usual. Finally, he sinks down with a groan, indicating there are more injuries than just the ones on his face. He leans back against the tree with his legs spread, resting his arms on his knees, you crawl up between his legs to get closer to his face.

Your scent hits him like a truck the minute you crawl closer, vanilla body lotion mixed with lavender shampoo you borrowed from Yuzuha after the lake. How the hell do you smell so good even after already spending a day at this campsite?

You soaked the cotton pad in alcohol, carefully dabbing it against the cut on his chin. He flinches, a sharp hiss escaping through his teeth.

“Quit being such a baby, relax,” you murmur.

He grumbles under his breath but keeps his eyes glued to you. Leaning his head back against the tree, he gives you easier access to his neck and chin, but the way he’s staring—intensely, unwavering—sends heat crawling up your skin. It’s impossible to ignore, especially with that focused look cutting right through you. His gaze is more than a distraction; it’s a problem, a problem that makes you wanna gouge his eyes out. A problem that makes what’s between your legs throb and you can’t afford to acknowledge right now.

“Can you not stare at me like that?” You say, still wiping the blood off his chin, trying to avoid looking up into his eyes.

“Like what?”

“Like that!”

“What?” A soft smirk tugs at the corner of his lips but quickly vanishes.

“You’re doing it right now.”

“I’m not doing nothing.” He drawls.

“You’ve got that face on your face!” You snap.

He cocks his head to the side, “That face on my face?”

Frustrated, you throw the cotton pad down. “You know what I mean!”

“You’re not even looking at me, and you’re complaining about a face I’m making?”

You let out a huff from your nose as you grab another cotton pad, soaking it in alcohol again, and continued tending to his wounds. After you finish cleaning it up, you place an ice-cold water bottle on his cheek without even looking at him. He quickly swats it away, that action surprises you enough to meet his eyes, he then softly grabs your wrist, guiding it back on his bruised cheek.

“If you’re gonna patch me up,” he says softly, “you gotta look at me.”

Your breath hitches as you release the bottle, forcing him to hold it himself. You reach for a band-aid, your fingers brushing against his skin as you lean in to place it on his chin.

“Technically, I need to be looking at your wounds,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you finally meet his gaze again. A hot flush rises up your neck.

“Think you missed my chin there..”

You frown, glancing down at the band-aid and realizing that it’s nowhere near where it should be. So much for being his “personal” nurse, you can’t even get the damn bandaid on the wound. Ripping it off, you try again, cursing yourself under your breath.

“What’s gotten you so distracted huh?” He teases, his voice low, and husky. Like he knows exactly what effect he has on you.

“Baji…” You warn, the sound of his name coming out more breathless than you intended.

“I’m messing with you. You need to relax… Need a smoke?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’d love to if Emma and Draken hadn’t finished it all last night.”

He hums in acknowledgment, the sound almost sympathetic. “Rough night, huh?”

“Oh yeah…” You shift and crawl over to sit beside him, resting your back against the same tree. The bark is cold and rough, but being next to him makes you feel a bit more grounded.

Keisuke puts the water bottle down and digs into his pocket, pulling out his butterfly knife. The familiar click of metal fills the silence as he flips it open, fiddling with it in his usual absentminded way. There’s something oddly soothing about it, even though your nerves are on edge. His presence makes you want to spill everything that’s been making you paranoid about this campsite.

“I keep having this reoccurring nightmare,” you admit, your voice quieter now, as if saying it out loud will make it more real. “About this Ghostface guy.”

Keisuke lets out a little snort, like it’s ridiculous, and you elbow him lightly in the side.

“I’m serious!” You say, half-laughing. “There’s a serial killer on the loose, and everybody treats it like a joke.”

He’s about to say something but catches himself, offering a quick apology instead. “My bad, sorry…”

Your gaze drifts toward the dark forest in front of you, the trees casting long shadows. You instinctively flick on your phone flashlight toward the direction you're staring at, just in case. “But I don’t know why… That nightmare this time, was way more vivid. Like, more real than before.”

Keisuke doesn’t look up from his knife, but his brow furrows slightly as he flips the blade with a practiced hand. “How so?”

You hesitate, trying to find the right words to explain the feeling gnawing at your gut. “It’s like… The killer is even closer now, y’know? Watching me. I’m twice as paranoid, and I keep seeing things out of the corner of my eye.” You hear a sudden snap of a tree branch nearby, your body tensing as you whip your flashlight toward the sound, but all you see is darkness and the endless maze of trees.

Keisuke, on the other hand, barely reacts. He keeps fiddling with the knife, unbothered. “Think you just really need a smoke.”

“Yeah… Maybe…” You mutter, still staring in the direction of the noise, your heart pounding a little too fast for comfort.

Keisuke flips the knife shut with a swift motion, tucking it back into his pocket as he pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll give you some of mine tomorrow. Just get some sleep.”

You push yourself up as well, stumbling a bit since your feet fell asleep. He jerks his head to the side toward the direction of the girls’ cabin, “I’ll walk you to the cabin so you won’t get killed.”

“That’s not funny,” you mutter.

“It is,” he teases, making you walk in front of him as he follows behind.

Reluctantly, you step ahead, feeling the weight of his presence close behind. The crunch of leaves underfoot fills the dead silence of the night, not even crickets. And you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious with him right there, walking just a pace behind. Every now and then, you glance over your shoulder, catching him watching you, his hands casually in his pockets, fiddling with the butterfly knife as he strolls along like a visible stalker.

When you finally reach the cabin, you stop by the door, turning to face him. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

He gives a soft hum of acknowledgment, his usual way of saying ‘yes’ without actually saying it. His gaze holds steady on yours, and for a brief moment, there’s something unreadable in his expression.

“Okay… Goodnight, Baji.” You smile softly as you push the cabin door open, the wooden hinges creaking as you step inside.

Before you can fully enter, his deep voice cuts through. “Keisuke.”

You pause, glancing back at him, “Huh?”

“It’s Keisuke,” he repeats, his tone softer now.

Your lips part in surprise, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. But then a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, face warmer than before. “Alright then. Goodnight, Keisuke.”

He nods, his eyes lingering on yours for just a second longer. “Night.”

You groggily rub your eyes, trying to adjust to the noise of loud chattering and the bright sun hitting your eyes. You attempt to tug the blanket up to hide your face but you struggle, you then attempt to kick the blanket up thinking it was just tucked in the corners but you struggle again, kicking your feet in frustration, you hit something solid, only to realize why it’s stuck.

Mikey, sitting at the edge of your bed like a statue, unbothered by your kicks, as if you barely grazed him. you kick at his back on purpose this time, back to back, each hit harder than before. and despite your persistent kicks, he doesn’t budge, making it seem like he’s completely immune to your attempts.

“Move,” you mutter.

He glances back this time, your voice being the only thing that got his attention, fucking prick. “look who’s awake,” Mikey says casually as if you aren’t still trying to kick him off the bed. “Emma says you know how to do creepy face paint.”

You finally give up, squinting at the bright room, sunlight flooding through the wide-open doors makes everything a bit too much for your still half-asleep mind. the dining table that’s pushed in the center is now a cluttered mess of makeup bags, hair straighteners, and mirrors, as if everyone decided to make it their vanity, spotting Senju sitting there and putting rollers in her hair.

Still too tired to process much, you stretch lazily, letting out a muffled groan as your body cracks back to life like those glow sticks from yesterday. “makeup…?” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep.

“Yeah, yeah. can you do that for me?”

Before you can respond, Emma pops up from behind his shoulder, seeing you finally awake. she approaches the bed and shoves Mikey down, crawling over him.

“Come skinny dipping with me,” she chirps, hovering above your legs as Mikey continues to struggle beneath her, her bodyweight suffocating him as he starts squirming beneath her, grumbling little ‘Get off of me’s’ and ‘Stop!’

You pursed your lips, raising a brow at her as if that’s the last thing you want to hear right now. “Why don’t you ask the other girls?” You mumble, not ready to leave your bed.

“Everyone already did, we woke up late,” Emma pouts, finally climbing off Mikey. She pats you on the shoulder like it’s a done deal, “C’mon! go brush your teeth.”

Mikey, still recovering from almost being squashed to death, glares at Emma before giving you a look like this is somehow your fault, like you’re the one ruining his morning. “bullies, you two.”

“I literally just woke up, I barely did anything to you,” you mutter, kicking him in the back one last time, finally getting him to move. But unfortunately, he stays in the room, lingering like he’s got nothing better to do.

You ignore him now that he’s off the bed, finally having the chance to get comfortable again. you pull the covers up, snuggling into them, ready to drift back into a cozy 20-minute nap.

Just as you’re about to doze off, you feel Mikey leaning in close, whispering something in your ear that you didn’t know you craved. “the lake is really hot right now…”

Your eyes shoot open, no way in hell you're missing out on that. you fling the blankets off, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag and quickly run out of the cabin toward the bathroom.

Outside, everyone from the campsite is already preparing for the Halloween party tonight. at the gate, there were new bikes and cars pulled over, guessing it’s the people that are here for the party and not to stay.

You continue walking toward the bathroom, almost bumping into guys who are hauling logs of wood to stack in the center of the campfire, with some sitting lazily in chairs they were supposed to move. It’s as if the party has already started before anyone’s even put on a costume.

As you approach the bathroom, you notice that it’s already occupied by Keisuke, who’s standing at the sink flossing his teeth, you move past him hoping he would acknowledge you somewhat, but he doesn’t seem to notice your entrance, or at least bother to say ‘Hi’. that kind of stings..

You wave off the thought and start washing your face beside him, glancing at him through the mirror every now and then, until the gorgeous sight gets interrupted by Mikey, who clearly followed you all the way here, walks right up next to Keisuke and stares at him through the mirror. “That’s crazy to look at,” he comments dryly.

Keisuke pauses mid-floss, turning to face Mikey with the floss string still stuck in his teeth. his left hand rests against the sink while his right hand settles on his hip. So dramatic. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

Mikey’s eyes flick to Keisuke’s floss before he grins. “Last time I saw you brush your teeth, you did it with your finger. Now here you are, flossing and shit… who’re you lying to huh?”

Keisuke glares and kicks Mikey in the knee, making him yelp and bolt out of the bathroom, with Keisuke chasing after him, leaving the floss still awkwardly hanging from his mouth.

Kazutora squeezes past them, shooting them a look as they disappear in between the crowd that’s already forming around the campfire they’re making. he walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, glancing over at you.

“Hey,” he greets casually, not so casually locking the door behind him.

You turn to face him, he looks like he just rolled out of bed, disheveled, yet unfairly attractive. His black and blonde hair is tousled, strands falling messily into his eyes, there’s a slight puffiness to his face, his eyes still heavy-lidded with the remnants of sleep, making him look soft but no less intense.

Your eyes landing on his wife beaters that cling to his figure, creased from sleeping in it. you glance down at his hand that rakes up under his rumpled shirt, scratching his stomach as he squints at the bathroom light with a faint scowl. his blue plaid pajama pants hang low on his hips, before your eyes roam over to his.. obvious print, you greet him with a nod, mumbling out a little ‘Hi!’ as you continue to brush your teeth as if the way he looks didn’t almost make you weak in the knees.

Kazutora moves behind you, stepping closer against you, his body presses lightly against your back, basically pinning you against the sink as his arms move around your waist to grab the toothpaste, his chest brushes your back as he squeezes the toothpaste onto his brush. he made the contact seem casual enough to be innocent, but you both knew it was far from that.

He reaches around you again, this time moving his arm up and over your shoulder to start brushing his teeth, practically enveloping you. his bicep brushes your cheek, he smells so clean, like mint with a mix of shampoo, making it impossible to focus on brushing your teeth. As you glance down, you spot a deep scratch on his arm, the wound looks fresh. probably from the glass he broke last night.

You tilt your head down under his arm, bending over, pressing close against him from behind to spit out the toothpaste, putting yourself in an awkward position and making Kazutora’s hand slip down to your hips instinctively, his hands hold you tight as he mumbles through his toothbrush, “Damn, we’re doing this the second day?”

you quickly wash your face, turning around to swat him lightly in the chest, “Uh-uh, don’t put this on me. You’re the one doing all that just to brush your teeth!” You grab some tissues to wipe off your face.

He finishes brushing his teeth, rinsing out his mouth, and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “what? didn’t mean nothing.. you were just right there.” he stuffs his hand in his pocket casually, his eyes flick to your lips for a second, as if your words are going in his ear and coming out the other.

“Well, that same argument goes for me,” you counter, leaning back against the sink and crossing your arms.

He steps closer, looming over you, his arms come down again, bracketing you in against the sink. “Yeah, alright.” his eyes won’t stop glancing down at your lips, enough to make him bite his own to hold himself back from pouncing on you.

And you picked up on that, “someone could walk in you know..” you murmur, heart racing as he leans in, his nose gently brushing against yours.

“So?” he whispers, right against your lips. “Let them, I don’t care.” his voice is low, just like how he spoke to you in the same spot yesterday, will he finish what he started this time?

Kazutora’s lips hover just inches from yours, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. Your breath hitches as you anticipate what you didn’t know you craved so much until he got so close, until yesterday in the same exact spot when he could’ve had you.

“But.. we barely even know each other.” you manage to whisper against his lips, eyes nervously darting at the door and then back at him, he seems to notice that as he tilts his head to make you keep your eyes on him.

“We could get to know each other now,” he murmurs, his eyes looking down at your lips then flicking up to meet your eyes again. “What’s your favorite color?” he asks as his lips graze against yours. The question feels almost like an afterthought with how focused he is on torturing you—and himself.

“Yellow.” you joke as his mouth moves to the corner of your lips, trailing soft, teasing kisses. “What’s yours..?” you mutter, barely getting the word out before his lips are on yours, fully this time, kissing you as if he’s been hungry about you. His hands move up to grip your hips, feeling his fingers go under your waistband.

He hums against your mouth before breaking the kiss to glance down, tugging at your panties to check the color, “mm.. black,” he mutters against your lips as his finds yours again, feeling his hands rake under your shirt to hold your waist, pulling you closer toward his body as his lips find new ways to kiss you each time.

His mouth finally pulls away just enough for you to catch your breath, eyes dark and heavy with need as he leans in again, but instead of another kiss, you feel his hands under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter, feeling the cold surface beneath you as he tightens his hold on your thighs, pulling you closer to press his body against yours.

He moves his hand up your chin, brushing his thumb across your lower lip while biting his, making your breath hitch as he lifts your head up and captures your lips between his again, except sloppier—more desperate, yet so annoyingly slow, like he wants to savor your taste against his lips. his tongue delves deep into your mouth as he softly groans against you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the back of his messy hair as he leans in even more into the kiss, pushing you to lean back against the mirror.

His hand snakes down your stomach, going between your legs to play with your clothed cunt that was embarrassingly soaked just from him kissing and teasing you. he breaks the kiss to rasp against your lips, a string of saliva still connected. “You’re soaked, you know that? I can feel it all through your shorts.” he grits his teeth, “It’s so damn hot.”

You let out a mewl, closing your legs on his hand as two of his fingers start to play with your clit, keeping his hypnotic honeyed-eyes on yours, “How long have you been friends with Manjiro for?” he asks another question as he teases your clothed clit, slowing his fingers down to make you focus on him instead. you can barely think, let alone form a coherent thought as you grip the front of his wife beaters.

“A-a while..” you stammer, glancing down at him toying with you through your shorts, he takes it as a hint for him to go under it as he snakes his hand down your waistband, moving under your panties as he runs two fingers between your soaking wet folds.

The corners of Kazutora’s lips tug into a smile, letting out a small laugh. “a while huh? where were you from me then? you hidin’?” he slowly inserts two fingers inside your cunt, his palm right against your clit for stimulation, making your thighs jerk up as he fucks his fingers into you. You're extra sensitive now and he’s abusing the hell out of it. “m’ sorry.. I wasn’t—” he cuts you off before you can explain by speeding up, making such embarrassingly lewd sounds echoing around the bathroom.

“You do this with anybody else?” he asks another one, making you look up at him from that unexpected question, he’s already possessive of you and it’s only been the second day. God, this is not how things are supposed to go, you didn’t mean to have a guy get possessive over you so soon, the wrong guy too. but you can’t stop him now, not with how his fingers are hitting your sweet spots continuously.

You manage to shake your head, trying to find your voice, but before you can respond, he’s already speaking again, his lips brushing yours. “Good, I wanna be the only one.” his voice soft but his eyes say otherwise. he pulls his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth, sucking your wetness off his fingers, his eyes still on you.

‏Then his hands move down to your thighs, tossing your thigh over his shoulders, “I know a better way to get to know you more,” he murmurs as he lowers his head down between your legs, his nose coming to bury itself against your soaked shorts, taking your scent in as his hands rub up and down your thighs while his eyes roll back.

Your thighs clamp around his head as he kisses your puffy folds through your shorts, the leg on his shoulder curling around him instinctively as if you are pulling him in for more, making Kazutora growl, hands going up your hips to pull you against his face again, keeping you in place as he takes in your scent while teasing your clit with his kisses.

You then get interrupted by Emma's muffled voice against the bathroom door, calling out your name, “Can you hurry the fuck up? I feel disgusting.” she calls, followed by the rattling of the doorknob as she tries to open it. You quickly move your hand to clamp it over your mouth, muffling out your whimpers.

Kazutora seems unbothered, too distracted getting drunk on your scent as he tugs on the waistband of your shorts, sliding it down your legs with your panties as he glances up at you, expecting you to answer and dismiss her. Nothing's stopping him this time, not when your pretty pussy is displayed in front of his eyes. You can't expect him to stop.. not when he's been craving you, not with his pants getting tighter, rubbing against the annoying confinements of his boxers. if he can't fuck you now, the least he could do right now is eat you.

And you both did just that, "Yeah, just.. give me a second Emma I'll be right out!" you manage to call out, running your fingers through his hair as he buries his face into your pussy, his tongue slid over your clit. Emitting a moan out of you as he licks you again, he flicks his tongue back and forth slowly over that swollen nub.

Every flick made your body jerk, whimpering as you watched him. his eyes remaining fixed on you as his lips close around your clit, his tongue rolling over it, brows furrowing in desperation, moaning against you as if he's tasting heaven on his tongue. His fingers digging into your hips. You cry out quietly, gasping at the feeling of his tongue against you—something you haven't felt in too long, and not this fucking good either.

You start to feel the ache building up slowly, speeding up as you hear Emma's continuous knocking on the door. hearing muffled little 'Hello?'s' and 'Hurry up's' and whatever the hell she was saying through the door, you didn't even care anymore, not with Kazutora devouring you alive right now with his sexy honey-colored eyes fixed on you so intensely.

You whimper against your hand, nodding your head at him repeatedly, silently telling him to not stop as his tongue fucks into you, going in and out, making your legs squeeze around his head and desperately grinding on his tongue. Earning a needy moan out of him, the tip of his dick leaking pre from how hot you are right now. He loves it when his tongue is being used by you.

You move your hand to his soft hair, tugging at it. You're close, so damn close, your ears completely muting Emma's persistent knocks and doorknob rattles as your brain only focuses on him and his tongue, your vision starts to blur around him as his head bobs side to side, only hearing his earring jingle as his tongue glides across your folds, moving back to your clit, sucking on it as your legs begin to shake.

You curl your lips inwards to hold back your moans, melting onto his mouth as the coil bubbling in your belly finally snaps in a rushed climax. you let out a gasp, quickly silencing yourself with your palm as he licks your mess up, not missing an opportunity to taste you.

He hums, reluctantly pulling away from your pussy he calls a delicacy. Chin, and lips still wet from you as he moves his hand back to barricade you. "Wanna keep eating you.." he whispers, almost coming out like a whine. his hand slides up to your hips, moving you closer against his crotch and pushing himself onto you, making you feel how hard he is against you.

Another gasp emits out of your lips, and just as you are about to speak, Emma does it for you. "What the fuck are you doing in there?!" banging on the door even louder than before, causing unnecessarily too much attention around you.

Kazutora clicks his tongue and lets out a heavy sigh, “Of course.”

You let out a scoff, leaning your head back against the mirror again. “I don’t think the universe wants this to happen.” you tease, trying to lighten up the mood but he still looks frustrated.

“Fuck the universe for that,” he mutters, stepping back reluctantly, His gaze lingering on you for a moment before picking up your shorts and soaked panties. looking down at the fabric before bringing it up to his nose, inhaling it in front of you shamelessly. "Let me keep this."

"No, kazutora I can't be walking around with no panties on, give it." You reach out for your panties as he moves them up from your reach. "But I want something to remember this by.. come on." he says with a smile, almost convincing you from how fucking hot he's being, you cup his cheeks, running your thumb on his lips. "You've got more than enough to remember this by." you quickly snatch your panties from him, putting them on with your shorts as he, once again, shamelessly checks you out from behind.

He then wraps his arms around you, pressing light kisses to your neck, tickling you. until Emma interrupts yet again.

"Oh my god, you better be dead in there or I'm ditching you!" she shouts through the door, her frustration obvious not only to you but to bystanders nearby.

"Alright, fine! Jesus!" you call back, exasperated. Kazutora groans and rolls his eyes, begrudgingly pulling away from you, his eyes still fixed on you. even as he backs toward the door, his gaze unwavering as he unlocks and opens the door for you, unbothered by Emma's presence.

Emma stands there, her mouth slightly opening, clearly confused by the sight of Kazutora inside with you. She wasn’t expecting him to be there, much less the two of you together. You slip out beside him, flashing her a sheepish smile, but Kazutora barely acknowledges her, his focus still on you as he finally steps back, nonchalant as ever. he strolls off, ignoring the curious looks from nearby as Emma’s earlier outburst had clearly drawn attention.

Emma rolls her eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh, grabbing your hand. “Come on, we’ve got shit to do.” she mutters, pulling you toward the forest where Senju and Yuzuha were waiting.

You step outside��pulled outside really—weaving through the camp where preparations for the Halloween party are in full swing, people swarming Mitsuya to alter their costumes, guys passing by, blocking your path and forcing you to go around them as they carry more hefty tree logs toward the center of the camp, a makeshift bonfire already starting to take shape.

Your eyes drift to the right as a familiar car pulls up near the entrance. Rindou and his brother Ran hop out, hauling bags filled with battery-operated Halloween decorations—speakers, candles, everything needed to throw a full-blown party without electricity. Rindou’s crew—slaves—rush to help, gathering boxes and bags and carrying them to the cabin where the party’s taking place.

You continue toward the trees, where Senju and Yuzuha are deep in conversation. Their voices are hushed as if talking shit about somebody, catching bits and pieces as you approach.

“Yeah, ever since Takemichi disappeared, he’s been… different. More persistent with her, it’s weird.” Senju says, crossing her arms in discomfort.

You reach them, slipping into the conversation. “Who are we talking about?” Your gaze drifts, searching for the victim of their discussion.

Emma steps closer to you as she points discreetly toward the chairs where a small group is gathered. “See that guy with the glasses? Sitting next to Hanma.”

You spot the victim immediately—Kisaki Tetta. Not from Emma’s description but because his eyes were already on you. And for a second, it felt like time had stopped. His eyes were so sharp and calculating, almost like he was aware you were talking about him. Something about his stare makes your skin prickle—like he knows exactly what’s going through your head. The corners of his lips quirk up just for a split second. Hina’s complaining about that giving her attention?

“Yeah,” you murmur, dragging your eyes away from his. You fight the urge to do something silly, like twirl your hair and kick your feet.

Emma crosses her arms, leaning into her stance like she’s about to go to war. “He’s got this weird obsession with Hina. They used to be friends back in elementary, but then he turned into a total douchebag.”

Yuzuha scoffs, “And now he thinks he can compete with Takemichi. Not like... Takemichi’s cuter or whatever... but still.”

“Kinda cute…” You let it slip out before you can stop yourself, putting your hand over your mouth as if you said something to the wrong audience.

Emma turns to you, her eyes narrowing as if you’ve just betrayed the entire group. “I hope to god you mean Takemichi.”

Senju steps in, resting her hands on your shoulders. “Actually... distracting him away from Hina might be good for her, at least until we find Takemichi.”

You raise your hands defensively, “Ohh no, no, no.. I’m not going to be whoring around this Halloween all because you want Hina’s boy toy off her dick.. besides, I’ve already got someone in mind.”

Emma’s brow furrows teasingly, a smirk plays at the corner of her lips, “Kazutora?”

“What? No! He wasn’t part of the plan!” You protest a little too quickly.

“Wasn’t?” Yuzuha teases even more.

“Oh yeah, she had her eyes set on Baji Keisuke.” Emma whispers in Yuzuha’s ear loud enough for you to hear.

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Wow, can you say that any louder?”

“I mean, I’ve already seen how Kazutora was practically eating you in the bathroom. I don’t think you can score better than that with Keisuke, at least before the getaway’s over.”

At that, both Senju and Yuzuha gasped dramatically, with little ‘How come you never told us!’ and ‘Where were we during this?’

You shake your head, “I’ll tell you two later! I feel too gross to be standing around right now.” You wave them off as you start to head toward the lake, watching them head back to the cabin giggling as you and Emma start walking toward the lake. “And it was nothing. We barely even kissed.”

“Uhuh, right. Okay.”

You stop abruptly, turning to face her and grabbing her shoulders. “Okay, listen. If I tell you this, you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Especially Keisuke.”

Emma’s eyes widen, “You’re calling him Keisuke now? Oh my god, what season did I miss? Did I skip a few episodes?”

“Emma. Swear.”

“Alright, alright! I swear.” She holds her hands up in surrender, “So, spill it. What’s going on?”

You hesitate for a second, scanning the area to make sure no one’s listening. “Kazutora and I did coke together.. and after, there was a little tension.."

Emma gives you a long, suspicious look, “There’s some details missing… I can tell from your face.”

“No important details. just little kisses on my legs and all that, but it stopped when the power went out.”

Emma crosses her arms, tilting her head. “Then why are you being so secretive about it?”

“Because he told me not to tell anybody, and I kinda figured that he meant Keisuke.”

“Hmmm.”

You narrow your eyes at her, trying to read her expression. “Do you know why he doesn’t want Keisuke to know?”

She shrugs, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

As you both finally reach the lake, you spot a few empty shampoo bottles littered on the ground, men’s shampoos to be exact. Guess everybody had the same idea, although they could’ve at least picked up after themselves. “Y’know, for being known as rich... they couldn’t afford showers in this dump?” You remark.

“You think they give a shit about quality from a place with history like this?” she responds. Emma wastes no time, quickly peeling off her clothes and stepping into the water. You hesitate, glancing around nervously as you undress, feeling a little too exposed right now.

“Hurry up before it gets cold!” She calls, already waist-deep in the water. “God, I needed this.”

You step into the lake, the warm water enveloping you as you sink into it, letting out a sigh of contentment. The water really was just as Mikey described, hot and relaxing. You dip your face under, wiping the water from your eyes as you emerge.

“We should’ve brought some shampoo,” you mutter, eyeing the empty bottles floating around, and pushing them back to the shore.

Emma leans her head back, letting the water get into her hair. “It’s not worth it. I’ll need another shower after the party anyway. Can’t be wasting it.”

“True…” You murmur, gazing up at the sky.

For a few moments, it’s quiet—just the sound of water lapping against your bodies and the soft rustling of trees. That’s a surprise, you’re not paranoid about silence anymore. This is a nice feeling.

Emma suddenly breaks the silence, her voice low, almost as if she’s been holding it in for too long. “I haven’t spoken to Ken all day.”

You turn your head toward her, sensing there’s more she wants to say.

“I didn’t think he’d tell the gang something so personal, y’know? I didn’t even tell you guys about it… I just thought it’d be fair if he kept it between us too.”

You stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt, though you really want to know the context—what’s gotten them all so tense yesterday, but you don’t want to pry, not when she’s pouring herself out to you.

She takes a breath, staring at the water. “He got me pregnant… and I had an abortion without telling him.”

The words hit like a wave, and though you try to keep your face neutral, Emma already caught the surprised expression on your face before it disappeared. She chuckles a bit at that.

“I just… I thought he’d run away,” she continues, her voice trembling slightly. “That’s a lie, I know he wouldn’t… I like to comfort myself with that thought so I won’t feel shitty about it. But, a part of me didn’t want to tell him because I knew he’d convince me to keep it, saying he’s ready to be a dad and stuff. But I knew I wasn’t, and he didn’t take that lightly.”

“What do you mean?” You ask softly.

She stays silent for a minute before letting out a big sigh. “He kinda took it as me saying I didn’t want a baby with him. It wasn’t that. I just wasn’t ready. That’s it.” Emma pauses, dipping her hand into the water, and swirling it around absently. “We fought about it—bad. Even Manjiro got involved. Everything went to shit after that. Which… was out of character for him, yeah. But things were already going pretty bad for the gang, he and Mikey fought before, and this just kinda made it worse, I guess.”

“Emma, I’m so, so sorry…” You want to reach over and hug her, but the fact you’re both naked stops you. Instead, you extend your hand toward her, and she takes it, squeezing gently.

“It’s okay. It’s been a year since then, and we never really talked about it after, until today. I didn’t think it’d get brought up again, especially not like that.”

“That was really messed up of Kazutora, I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You squeeze her hand back.

She lets out a bitter laugh. “Don’t apologize for him. Yeah, he’s been all up on you lately, but still…”

You smile softly. “I can drop him for you, you know?”

Emma’s eyes widen, shaking her head quickly. “No, no! Please don’t. that’s the last thing I need right now. he’s already being fucking insane I don’t need you depriving him of pussy too.”

She dips her hair back into the water, letting the warmth wash over her as she sinks deeper into the lake. “And then there’s Hanma… It’s like he has a sixth sense whenever Ken and I are having issues.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, he hits you with a ‘you up?’ text?”

Emma lets out a dry laugh. “Literally! No joke, he’s exactly that cliché. He’s the type who goes after vulnerable women in relationships just for the thrill of it.” She pushes back her hair from her face, getting all the water out. “And back then, he had this weird phase of being obsessed with taking a girl’s virginity, especially mine. Like… I wasn’t even a backdoor virgin at the time.”

You wrinkle your nose, cringing. “Okay, I didn’t need to know that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh please, like I haven’t told you worse.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “How could you resist him though? I mean, the guy’s hot. He’s got the height, the eyes…”

Emma’s expression drops into a deadpan. “Are you only attracted to the absolute worst of the worst? Be honest.”

“Emma, don’t even try to deny it.”

She sighs, tilting her head as if considering for a moment. “At first? Maybe, before I really knew him. But after dealing with his antics for so long, the charm kind of wears off, and Ken is my type, not Hanma.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun…”

“Bitch, please. if your definition of ‘fun’ is Kisaki and hanma, I’ll pass. and stick with Keisuke—he’s better for you mentally.”

You scoff, leaning back in the water. “Not really… He gives such mixed signals, he was driving me crazy yesterday.”

Before you can elaborate, Emma suddenly perks up. “Hold that thought! I really should’ve brought a bikini before jumping in here.” She stands, the water sliding off her skin as she quickly grabs her clothes to put them on. “You want me to grab yours too?”

You glance around, feeling a little exposed now that she’s mentioned it. “Yeah, please. I’ve been feeling a bit too vulnerable out here.”

She pulls her wet hair out of her shirt, and then nods toward the trees. “Gotcha. I’ll be back.” She starts walking toward where the cabin is, disappearing into the forest and leaving you alone with the quiet ripples of the lake.

You float lazily in the warm water, letting your body relax as your mind drifts back to yesterday. Glad she didn’t pretend nothing happened like those guys did, especially Mikey. He was still acting the exact same this morning, although they do have a history of forgetting their arguments, but this one was too intense. Guess they were just too drunk. It’s pretty frustrating though, it’s like no one but you had felt the weight of what happened.

You tilt your head back into the water, exhaling softly, your mind drifting to the cut on Kazutora’s arm. Sure, you were just as fucked up as they were, but you seriously don’t remember him getting a cut from the glass, or anything really. Maybe he and Keisuke fought after? That would explain Keisuke’s bruises. If that’s so… that fight must’ve been intense.

The water’s stillness is suddenly interrupted by the realization that Emma’s been gone for too long. You push yourself up slightly, scanning the edge of the lake for any sign of her. Nothing. The trees remain undisturbed, quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves from the wind.

You stand, the cool air hitting your wet skin immediately. As you step out of the lake, you instinctively reach for your clothes, only to find them missing. What the fuck? You start to scan the area, checking to see if they might have fallen or been moved by the wind. Maybe Emma took them with her? But something about that doesn’t sit right. She wouldn’t pull a prank, not after being so vulnerable with you a couple of minutes ago.

Your heart starts to race as your eyes dart around, feeling more and more exposed. You cover yourself with your arms while searching for anything to do the job for you. Finally, you spot a towel draped over a rock nearby. It’s ridiculously small, probably meant to be a face towel, but it’s your only option. You wrap it around yourself as best as you can, covering what’s most important, though it barely does the job.

Still shivering from the cold, you tiptoe into the forest, leaves, and dirt clinging to your feet. You’re wet and vulnerable, like prey ready to be pounced on. The dense canopy overhead makes everything seem darker, and the chill in the air feels sharper against your damp skin. Every rustle of leaves makes you jump, paranoia creeping in. Great, just as you were about to celebrate the fact that you weren’t as paranoid anymore.

As you step deeper into the forest, the towel clings to your wet skin, barely offering any warmth, and you clutch it tightly, scanning the dimly lit path for any sign of Emma or your missing clothes. “Emma?” You call out, although your voice doesn’t seem to be reaching the cabin. It’s as if no matter how loud you scream, no one will hear you. Why did your thoughts lead to that now?

The silence around you feels suffocating, the occasional rustle of leaves now sending a chill down your spine. You’re not sure what’s worse: the fact that your clothes are missing or the creeping feeling that something isn’t right.

You push through the underbrush, the wet towel sticking to your skin, its small size doing little to make you feel more secure. The chill of the air and the dampness on your body make everything worse. You try calling for Emma again, but your voice sounds weak in the thick, still air. “Emma?” you repeat, a little louder this time. The sound of your voice feels hollow, swallowed up by the trees as if there's no one around to hear it.

A twig snaps behind you. you then hear a voice—faint at first, like a low chuckle. you freeze in place, your heart skipping a beat as the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. not right now, not right now! He chuckles again, a deep, mocking sound.

“Lose something?” a familiar voice drawls from behind you, sending a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re wet and naked.

You turn around slowly, hoping that it’s just a hallucination. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. you spot Hanma Shuji, standing a few feet away, leaning casually against a tree, with your underwear dangling on his finger, his lips curling into a lopsided grin as he witnesses your terrified eyes, his eyes expanding at the sight of it.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” You mutter, your voice betraying the anxiety you’re trying to suppress. You tighten your grip on the towel, taking a step back away from him, considering bolting for it or fighting him for your underwear, at least you would only worry about the top being exposed.

You feel Hanma’s eyes slowly travel down your body, his gaze lingering on the damp skin left exposed by the tiny towel.

“Oh, come on now,” he pushes himself off the tree, taking a step closer to you. “you don’t need to be so shy, not after the little show you’re putting on.” He teases.

You clear your throat, “Hanma, give it,” you demand, trying to keep your voice steady, though you can’t ignore the way your pulse is racing.

Hanma lifts the underwear higher, inspecting them with exaggerated disinterest with a hand on his chin. “hmm, I don’t know. you’re looking pretty good like this. s’ a shame to cover up so soon.” his eyes flick back to you, filled with that lazy, predatory hunger look in his eyes that always seems to follow him.

“Don’t push it,” you snap, though your voice falters just a little. you try to stand your ground, but with nothing but the thin towel to cover you, you can feel your confidence slipping. Oh fuck. you need that underwear now.

Hanma tilts his head, his grin widening, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Black, huh?” he muses, raising an eyebrow as he gives you a slow, teasing once-over. He clicks his tongue in mock frustration, “Damn, was betting on white, y’know.. ” he trails off.

You feel your face heat up instantly, did he hear what you and Emma were talking about? “what the fuck does got to do with anything?!”

Hanma chuckles at your reaction, twirling your underwear around his finger. “unless you’re gonna tell me you’ve been keeping yourself pure for someone special,” he says, his voice dropping low, the words rolling off his tongue with that smug, knowing tone, “are you?”

Your eyes narrow, fighting the urge to lunge at him and snatch your clothes back. “Why does that matter, huh? Can you just give me my clothes back?”

“Answer my question and I’ll give it to you.” he takes a step closer, forcing you to step back into the tree. “Are you, or are you not?” his gaze flicks back down to the towel, then to your face.

You grit your teeth, fighting to maintain control. “That’s none of your business.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head while looking down at your underwear, fiddling with the lace. He then dangles your underwear in front of you once more, but still keeps them just out of reach. “I’d kill to see you walk to the camp like this anyway..”

You might actually bolt for it this time, you glance back toward the camp, where you can already hear the faint sounds of people talking and preparing for the Halloween party. The idea of walking through the crowd like this, wrapped in a towel barely covering a thing, makes you wanna curl up and fucking die. Your eyes dart back to hanma, who’s watching you with that insufferable smirk of his, clearly eating up every second of your discomfort.

You sigh, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Can I please have my clothes back?” your voice comes out soft, almost pleading, just barely above a whisper as you impatiently stomp your feet in frustration.

Hanma tilts his head, matching the soft sound of your voice in a way to mock you, “Answer my question first.” you should be pissed but jesus christ did he sound so fucking hot doing it.

You clench your jaw, knowing you’re trapped. There’s no way around it, not with how he practically has you pinned to the tree, you look away from his gaze. “Okay! alright! I’m not a virgin, whatever! give it back.”

But Hanma only scoffs, “You think I’m just gonna give this to you without proof?”

Proof? Is he fucking crazy? Proof? your breath catches, and you feel your stomach drop. “Proof?”

He steps closer, the gap between you shrinking as he looks down at you. “Let me check.”

Your stomach tightens, heat rushing to your face. “What do you mean ‘let me check’? you can’t just—”

He cuts you off, “You want your clothes back or not?” his grin widening, shameless as ever.

Is this why Emma fucking despises him? cause now you’re starting to get it. You stood frozen, heart pounding, chewing on your lip as your mind races. There’s no way you’re going to let him get away with this, but the way he’s looking at you, the way his voice dips so low, makes it impossible to think straight.

“So?” he leans closer, his breath brushing your ear. “You gonna let me?” he drags his fingers along your curves, going down to your thigh. And unfortunately, your body betrays you. Your mind locked onto the feeling of his fingertips drifting your thighs, going between, accepting the sensation of his fingers drifting up from your inner thighs to what’s next to it. Kazutora’s unfinished business is being handed to hanma, and somehow, you’re not complaining.

A part of you enjoys the way he toys with you, the way he puts you in such a humiliating position just for his own pleasure, just to see you crack. and a part of you wants to crack for him, you can’t hide your masochism forever. unfortunately for you, as much as you try to deny it, and pretend you have self-respect and dignity, your body will always betray you.

He chuckles against your ear as if what he’s feeling on his fingers is unbelievable. “you’re fucking wet.” he whispers, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

You let out a whimper, almost loud enough for the camp to hear but he quickly covers your mouth. “you don’t want them seeing you like this do you?” he speaks against the back of his hand.

You repeatedly shake your head, already tearing up and he barely did a thing to you. “why’re you crying?” he murmured, his gaze softening at the sight of your tears, but his dick was far from soft at that. his knuckle grazes beneath your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. but it wasn’t gentle, no, it was patronizing. “do I need to shut that mouth of yours?”

A soft pout forms on your plump bruised lips as you peer up at him through your lashes, your eyes wide, almost pleading—an instinctive reaction to his taunt.

Hanma tilts his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “you’re really bringing out the big guns with those puppy eyes, huh?” he then holds your underwear up, stretching it out enough to use it to gag you with it, he then stuffs your mouth with it, tying it to the back of your head.

“Bite.” he demands, and you comply, earning little whispers of ‘good girl’ and ‘you look so damn pretty like this’ against your lips as he leans in to kiss you, soaking up your underwear from it, his thick tongue rushes over your own, feeling yourself getting wetter as you silently wish emma doesn’t come back for you.

He then breaks the kiss, yanking the towel off your grasp and exposing you completely to him as he throws the towel aside, the sharp cold air hitting you enough to twitch. before you had time to react, he sinks to his knees, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs open enough for him to go in between, “that’s a pretty fuckin’ pussy..” he mumbles right in front of your folds before spitting on it to make it easier for what he’s about to do to you. his warm breath fanning your cunt as he uses his ‘sin’ etched hand to lightly play with your clit, watching you twitch and pulsate against his fingers. humming little ‘mhm’s as he inserts two fingers inside you.

You practically melted on him, “so tight..” he coos, “not a virgin, huh?” he teases, you couldn’t even look at him anymore from how humiliating this is, biting your panties to muffle out your moans, and he couldn’t have that either.

He clicks his tongue, “let me hear you.” he says irritatedly as he pushes himself up from the ground to loom over you, wrapping his fingers around your neck with his ‘punishment’ etched hand, forcing you to look up at him again as he speeds up his fingers. shamefully, his long fingers feel so fucking good inside you, and your body can’t help but react to it.

“Don’t be ashamed about it.. wouldn’t expect a girl like you to be alone for this long. hey.. am I the only one that went this far in the camp? tell me.” he whispers huskily as he tightens his fingers around your neck.

You replied with muffled choked whines, but instead, he moved his hand from your throat to grab your chin, forcing you to nod your head at his question. “yeah? such an honor.” he gets his face closer to your lips, hovering over it as his ‘punishment’ hand moves to your thigh, lifting it up to get better access as he goes knuckles deep into your pussy, making you almost short circuit. “y’know, you’re all the guys have been going on about. couldn’t help but wanna get a taste of what they’re cravin’.. maybe ruin it for them too while I’m at it.” you tightened around his fingers at that, making his brow raise and let out a deep chuckle, “Ohh, you liked that huh.”

Your eyes rolled back as you leaned your head against the bark, you couldn’t even tell if it was because of his words or how good his finger felt. and of course, he would turn this into a competition. it makes perfect sense that he’d chase after someone the guys won’t shut up about. that’s just who he is—a thrill-seeking asshole, always needing to one-up everyone else. the exact kind of man Emma kept warning you about. but you just can’t ignore feeling yourself make a mess on his fingers, soaking and tightening around it even more, every time he speaks, like the dirty fucking whore you are.

He pulls it out, putting it in his mouth to suck on, making sure you’re looking up at him as he tastes you. “Mmm, mhm.. you’re ready.” he leans in to meet your lips with his again into a sloppy wet kiss against your panties while he unzips his pants, slipping it down to his thighs as he gives himself slow strokes, precum already dripping down his dick.

He breaks the kiss, biting his lip as he grabs both your thighs and lifts you up, supporting you with the tree he’s got you pinned in. The rough bark scratches your bare back painfully but you don’t care anymore. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his hips.

“Hold onto me better,” he murmurs, you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails on his back for support, leaving behind stinging lines from your nails as he digs his onto your hips, angling your wet slit on his tip.

Your eyes widened looking down at him: his cock is pierced, a curved silver bar fitted through the underside of his tip. you’ve never seen that before— never even thought someone would do that—and you could scarcely imagine how that would feel inside you, and he’s sooo fucking huge too. for a guy who used to be obsessed with being the one to take a girl’s virginity, with a size like his, combined with the piercing.. that would feel so painful, but you assume he’d be into breaking girls like that, making them bleed on his dick, and gosh does that thought turn you on.

It’s so indecent the position he has you in currently, it’s so indecent that you just got your pussy eaten by a different guy you barely know too. this wasn’t even the plan at all, you didn’t plan to have Hanma Shuji driving his pierced cock deep into your pussy right now, and you didn’t plan to have your cunt squeezing his dick either, making him question if what you said about you not being a virgin is true from how goddamn tight you are. you didn’t plan to have your pussy eaten on the second day of the getaway and yet here you are. in the middle of nowhere against a tree with a seven-inch deep in your stomach, you can’t even complain about the cold anymore, not with his hot dick and pre already coating your insides.

“Ohhh fuck, look down.. look down at it angel, watch how it fucks you.” Hanma choked, his face scrunched up with need from how good your pussy was swallowing him. you roll your head down to watch him stretch you open, resting it on his shoulder while watching your skin clap against his as his veiny dick disappears into you, making your clit throb as he drives himself into you over and over. your mouth now dry since you drooled all over yourself, the sight only making hanma even harder from how braindead you look.

You lean back against the bark again, tears rolling down your cheeks, sniffling. so cute to him, so cute as he’s continuously pounding his cock into your puffy, swollen pussy. with each heavy thrust, he hits your spot, making you cry out for him as his hips interact with yours. and you can’t help but make Hanma’s back bleed as he cusses under his breath.

You’re ready to cum, so close to it you feel it in the pit of your stomach as your eyes roll back, a moaning, drooling mess. “uh-uh,” he says sternly, “Look at me.. look at me while I fucking ruin you, c’mon.” he growls, getting even more aggressive as he stretches your legs further up. his dick bulging out of your tummy. he wasn’t even looking at you either, his eyes were on your tits, bouncing each time he thrusts his hips into you. he can’t help it either, every single inch of you is hypnotizing to him.

You let out a soft mewl, breath hitching as you feel yourself coat his dick, the slapping sounds getting wetter, almost echoing through the trees. it all comes crashing down at you as the ache in your stomach snaps, squirming against his grip, legs twitching, and hips bucking against him. you feel so, so painful and sore now but that’s an issue for you to worry about later.

He pulls out his dick, and a part of you wishes he didn’t as you already start to miss him being inside of you. He starts to stroke it. Speeding up as thick, pearl white cum oozes out of his pierced tip, dripping on your stomach and your rhinestone belly piercing, making it shine for him as he groans at the sight. “So damn pretty..”

He pushes himself against you more to pin you hard against the tree for support as he scoops up a bit with his middle finger, grabbing the panties from your mouth and pulling it down to your neck, shoving his middle finger down your throat. “Suck,” he orders, making your clit throb one last time at that.

And you did just that, his purple eyes were focused on your lips as you glide your tongue against it, keeping your doe eyes locked on his as you start to moan around him, his mouth fell open with a desperate sigh as you were sucking down hard on his finger and letting your tongue tease its tip.

You take the chance to distract him with your mouth as you undo your underwear from the back, trying your best to imitate as if you're sucking his dick, his eyes remaining on you with such intensity. you finally undo it, swiftly hiding your underwear behind you as you let go of his finger with a lick, purposely leaving a string of saliva still attached.

“How am I supposed to let you go after that..” he says with hunger so unmistakable and raw it made your legs weaken, almost convincing you to stay with him a little longer. you bring your fingers to your lips, kissing them softly before grazing them against his mouth. his body that was pressing on you momentarily loosening. Taking that chance, you kick him back away from you with all the strength you can muster. His surprised expression is the last thing you see before bolting.

Quickly snatching the towel from the ground, you barely manage to wrap it around yourself as you dash away from him, wiping away remnants of him on your stomach, a sick reminder of what happened as the cold air hits your skin again. Your heart races as fast as your feet as you sprint toward the camp, the towel slipping dangerously, barely covering you.

You finally reach the camp, bursting out of the treelines, your worst nightmare—aside from being murdered—begins in slow motion before you. The once lively camp now silent as everyone stops to stare, conversations freezing mid-sentence as people halt whatever they're doing, gawking at your half-covered figure. You should've at least worn your underwear before running here so you would only have your tits to worry about, but something about the thought of you running around in your underwear sounds just as worse as right now.

You don’t even have time to process the embarrassment creeping up your neck as your grip tightens around the towel, fingers trembling as it threatens to slip from your grasp. You make a desperate dash across the camp toward the girls’ cabin, each step feeling like you’re running through thick mud, the weight of humiliation heavier than anything you’ve ever carried.

Please, not now, not like this…

One pair of eyes catches your attention more than the others. You recognize the blonde hair streaked with blue—fucking Rindou Haitani. His eyes were locked on you, widening as he covered his mouth with his hand, trying—and failing—to hide a grin. He leans over, nudging his brother Ran with an elbow, chin pointing directly at you.

Great. Didn’t even need to get anyone into bed for them to see you half-naked. Already crowned the whore of the century in just two days. Heat floods your face, prickling your skin as humiliation grips you tighter than the towel ever could.

You quicken your pace, legs trembling beneath you. Just when you think you can make it, you hear someone call out, something about Hanma. Wait—Hanma? Why is he brought up?

Your blood runs cold in realization. No. No, no, no... don’t do this to me.

Your breath hitches, and your question hangs in the air for a split second. As if on cue, Hanma bumps into you from behind, his hands finding your waist as he nudges you to the side like you're in the way, "Shit... didn't see you there," he says with a smug, half-assed apology, making his group break into jeering laughter, the kind that digs under your skin.

He then appears in your line of sight, strolling across the camp casually, his usual lazy grin plastered on his stupid, stupid face, the action only fueling his group even more. you don't even need a crystal ball to figure out what they're thinking either—Hanma and you are alone in the woods, with you naked. The weight of their stares nauseating as he walked toward Kisaki, mumbling something in his ear. whatever it is, makes Kisaki glance your way, fucking great. Now you've got Kisaki's attention on you, and Hanma’s as well as his eyes drift back in your direction.

You can feel their stares—Hanma’s eyes burning into you like he knows exactly how uncomfortable you are—and it’s unbearable. The humiliation is indescribable, you’ve never felt more suicidal until now. Your grip on the towel tightens as if it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

Then, before you can even think of bolting, a familiar, comforting voice yells through the camp, coming to your rescue.

“The fuck you looking at? Huh?!”

Your head snaps up, spotting Draken at your side in an instant, quickly shrugging off his jacket and throwing it over your shoulders with no hesitation, the fabric heavy against your skin. Your legs feel like jelly from the embarrassment, but Draken catches on as his hand finds the small of your back, urging you forward.

“Look away, you fuckin’ cunts!” Draken barks, “Nothing to see here, scram!”

You flinch at his words, the sharpness of his tone making the embarrassment feel even heavier now that all eyes are on you from how goddamn loud he's being. At least he has good intentions, but now you’re not sure whether you want to be hidden or to disappear entirely.

At the corner of your eye, the person you desperately want to yell at—Emma—appears beside him, rushing toward you, her voice apologetic. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to leave you out there!” She urges, her hands hovering uselessly near you as if trying to help without knowing how.

Draken’s towering frame shields you as he leads you toward the cabin. You can still feel their eyes on you—the weight of their stares, lingering like fingerprints on your skin—but it’s all just background noise now.

Just then, the cabin door bursts open, and Mikey storms out, drawn by Draken’s voice. His eyes widen as he spots Draken and Emma ushering you toward the girls’ cabin. “What’s going on? Why are you naked?” Mikey asks as he strides over, nudging you further inside gently as he closes the door behind him.

Your heart pounds in your ears as your face reddens from embarrassment. Legs give out as you sink to the floor. Your face burns, skin hot to the touch from the sheer mortification.

You’re not sure what’s worse—the fact that it happened or that they all saw it.

It was already sunset, four hours before the Halloween party. You stroll toward the boys' cabin with your costume in hand. Your steps are quick since you don’t want to be seen by anybody else right now—the sting of embarrassment from earlier creeping back up your neck. On top of all that, you found out that Emma conveniently decided to make up with Draken, leaving you to fend for yourself naked in the woods. Timing, right? But it’s whatever now. It already happened. What can you do?

The cabin door is left slightly ajar, and through the crack, you spot Mitsuya sitting at the dining table, chatting with Hakkai, who's leaning on a chair in front of him, rocking it back and forth with his long leg. You vaguely remember Hakkai witnessing that whole ordeal earlier since he was nearby helping the others carry logs. Just your luck. With a sigh, you try to center yourself before pushing the door open further, letting it creak to announce your presence.

As you step inside, Hakkai notices you immediately, his eyes widening in surprise before he quickly looks away, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. He glances at Mitsuya for some kind of signal, who only gives him a subtle nod, silently dismissing him.

Hakkai stands awkwardly, muttering a quiet “see ya,” as he shuffles past you, practically shrinking, avoiding eye contact. At least he didn’t comment or stare at you like the rest of the guys did earlier.

Finally, Mitsuya looks up from the table, giving you an easy smile like you didn’t just flash the entire camp. “Hey, what’s up?” he greets, his eyes flicking to the costume you’re holding. “Got something for me to fix?”

You cringe slightly at his casual tone. It’s only the second time you’ve really interacted with him, and you’re already asking for favors. You feel a little guilty, but then again, you only have four hours to get ready. “I hate to be that person, but I completely forgot to alter this… it’s too big on me, and I need it, uh… shorter.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, hopping off the dining table, clearing it out for him to start working on your dress, grabbing his glasses from his head and putting them on. He looks so cute with his glasses on… “Hand it here.”

You pass him the costume, and he starts to feel the fabric between his fingers, laying it out on the table for a better look. “Velvet, huh? I can work with this. How short do you want it?”

“Umm…” You chew on the bottom of your lip, reaching for the dress as he moves back with his hands in his pockets. You fold up the bottom of the skirt, nearly half of it gone, showing him how short you need it. You smile sheepishly, feeling a bit ridiculous.

He stares at the fabric for a beat longer than necessary, chewing on the inside of his mouth. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” you reply, more confident this time. “I’m sure.”

“Can you, uh… put it on so we can see exactly where you need it?” he suggests, still making sure you really want it that short.

“Yeah, okay.” You take the costume back and slip it over your clothes. It’s loose around your waist, and the skirt falls all the way to your ankles. Walking over to the giant body mirror, you fold the fabric up, bringing the hem slightly above the bottom of your ass. You glance back at Mitsuya, who’s now standing behind you, hand on his chin as he examines the skirt you’ve folded up. A quiet laugh slips out. He rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting between you and the absurdly short skirt.

“Oh, so you’re serious?” he asks, trying to hold back another laugh.

You glance at him through the mirror, your face heating up. “Yeah, I’m serious,” you attempt to say confidently, but you can’t help but crack a smile.

He stares for a moment longer, his eyes drifting over the costume and back to you. “That’s really short,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m not saying anything, I’m just making sure you know what you want…” You can tell he’s debating whether to warn you about how impractical the length is—dancing, bending over… all risks.

“Thanks for the concern, but I know what I want, don’t worry, Mitsuya,” you mutter with a smile. It’s your costume, after all. With a shrug, he nods.

“Alright, I’ll make it work. You mentioned tightening it around your waist, too?” He walks back to the dining table to grab a few pins.

“Yeah,” you confirm, turning to the side in the mirror to inspect the fit. “It’s a bit loose.”

Mitsuya moves behind you with pins in his mouth, his hands hovering near your waist, waiting for permission. You meet his eyes in the reflection and nod with a small smile. He gently runs his hand on your waist as if you are fragile, tightening the fabric at your waist, and carefully placing a pin to hold it. Then, he drops to his knees, pinning the skirt’s hem to the length you want, still hesitating but ultimately deciding to trust your choice. For a moment, it looks like he might add a bit of length without telling you, but he wouldn’t. The customer’s always right anyway.

“Alright, you can take it off now,” Mitsuya says as he stands up.

Careful not to mess up the pins, you slowly slip out of the dress, folding it neatly before handing it to him. He walks back over to the dining table, already gathering his tools to start cutting and sewing.

You follow him, perching yourself on the edge of the table next to his work, watching him as he does his magic—focused and all, long lashes that almost brush his cheeks when he blinks, then to his lavender hair, holding the urge to run your hand through it, then at his hands as he takes off his rings, placing them to the side.

One of the rings catches your eye, resembling the cross earring he wears that you really liked. You hum in interest. Without thinking, you reach for it, slipping it onto your thumb. The ring is far too big, but you try to make it fit, twisting it around, and looking at the details. Mitsuya, still cutting, notices the missing ring, his eyes flicking up to you. With a soft smile, he tilts his head slightly to grab your attention.

“You like it?”

You glance back at him, realizing you’d been caught playing with his ring. “Oh—uh, sorry,” you say quickly, taking it off and setting it back on the table, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” he says casually, his voice soft. “It looks good on your finger.”

“Yeah… it doesn’t really fit though,” you mutter, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you place your hands in your lap, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your pants awkwardly.

Mitsuya’s gaze lingers on your hands fidgeting for a moment longer before he asks, “So, who’re you gonna be tonight?”

“Bela Dimitrescu,” you reply.

He raises a brow, clearly not recognizing the name. “Who?”

“She’s just some hot mutant from Resident Evil. You might recognize her when I put the costume on.”

“Well, I’ll look forward to seeing that then.”

Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s gonna be, your stomach growls, loud enough to make you freeze. Mitsuya glances up at you with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You should go eat while I finish this up.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mumble, slightly embarrassed. “Thanks for this, Mitsuya, you really saved me.” Hopping off the dining table, you give him a grateful smile before heading out of the boys’ cabin. Your feet carry you toward the main cabin, silently hoping that they brought an acceptable breakfast. You’d kill for some Honey Cheerios right now.

Reaching for the cabin door, you pull it open and step inside, only to find two guys already there, mid-conversation—the Haitani brothers. Their words pause the moment you enter. Making you hesitate to walk in, but it’s too late to leave. Their eyes are already on you, and turning back now would just make it look like you’re trying to avoid them.

They finally look away as you cast a smooth, subtle glance at Ran without him noticing. He’s frowning so deeply it almost looks permanently etched on his face, his lips pursed as he sips his coffee. You hope it’s just a case of him not being a morning person, rather than something to do with your presence.

Rindou, on the other hand, looks like he’s holding back a laugh as he stares down at his cereal, swirling it lazily with his spoon. You ignore the awkward tension and move to walk past, doing your best to seem unbothered. But just as you pass, you hear Ran mumble, “No good showers… No good coffee… The cheap-ass motel nearby can at least give me a good shower.”

Tell me about it, you roll your eyes at that, moving toward the cabinets and trying not to engage. You sift through the shelves, noticing most of the snacks are half-eaten or left wide open, gross... What do you expect in a cabin full of guys? You turn around and finally spot something decent—a box of cereal right next to Rindou.

“Dude, we can leave after the party… Quit whining,” Rindou says, leaning back in his chair, still playing with his cereal.

You grab the box of supposedly protein cereal, lifting it to see how full it is. Thank God, it’s brand new. You move over to grab a bowl and head to the sink, which Ran is currently blocking with his brooding presence. He’s ignoring you, his attention is still on Rindou.

You let out a quiet sigh and clear your throat. “Excuse me,” you mutter, hoping to avoid any unnecessary interaction with him.

Ran side-eyes you but eventually steps to the side, he seems so grumpy. You quickly wash the bowl, hearing the brothers chatting again, but you’re too tuned out to catch their conversation. After grabbing a plastic spoon, you sit at the dining table and pour yourself a bowl of cereal, only to realize that the milk already out on the table is… lukewarm.

“Goddamnit,” you mutter under your breath.

“Goddamnit indeed,” Ran quotes you, grimacing as he takes another sip of his coffee before slowly stepping out of the cabin to sit on the porch.

You dig into your cereal, grateful to get something in your stomach before getting fucked up tonight. But even that small comfort is ruined by the weight of Rindou’s stare, first on you, then your cereal, like your mere existence is bothering him. His gaze feels heavy, almost like he’s expecting something. You glance up at him, your eyes lock with his, and he doesn’t look away. Which only makes you eat faster, hoping to finish and get out of there as soon as possible.

“You know that’s my cereal, right?” he says with a brow raised.

You freeze mid-chew, looking at him with a mouthful, feeling caught. “I’m sorry,” you reply, your voice muffled by the cereal. “It’s just… everything else was already half-eaten or stale. I should’ve asked.”

“Nah, you’re good, I don’t wanna shit on your morning like he always does with me.” He points his spoon toward where Ran left, then scooping up some cereal for himself.

“Is he always that grumpy?” you ask, still chewing while looking at Ran’s back through a window.

“Mmhm,” Rindou hums in response, resting his head on his palm. Giving you a once-over, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. You pretend not to notice his staring, focusing on your cereal like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“So, who are you, anyway?” he asks, breaking the silence again.

You pause, swallowing before responding with your name. “…I’m a friend of the Sano’s.”

At the mention of their names, Rindou straightens up slightly, his interest piqued. “Oh, you’re with them? How come I don’t know you?”

You shrug in response, attempting to cut the conversation short since you still feel awkward about this morning but he seems persistent as he still keeps his goddamn eyes on you.

He leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the table. “Interesting. Can’t believe Mikey didn’t mention you.” The way he emphasized his name sounded almost like he was mocking, “So, who’re you gonna be for Halloween?” he tilts his head as if he’s trying to piece together how you fit into their world.

You shift in your seat, feeling the intensity of his gaze as if trying to study you. “Uh… Just some character from Resident Evil,” you say, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“Oh yeah? Who from Resident Evil? I’m going as Leon Kennedy tonight.”

Your face brightened at the mention of Leon, but you kept your cool, trying to not fangirl as much. “Bela Dimitrescu, that one mutant from Village. So, which Leon are you gonna be?”

“Damn…” he mutters, leaning back with a feigned sigh of disappointment. “Was hoping you’d be Ada. We could’ve matched, y’know.” He teases, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks you up and down before adding, “You know how he looked in Resident Evil 2? Yeah, him.”

“You gonna wear a wig, too?” you finish up your cereal, only taking spoonfuls of milk now.

“Pfft, nah… I don’t look good with brown hair.” He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair.

“Really? I think you’d look good.” You respond without thinking twice about the way you said it.

His eyes gleam as he sits up, leaning closer to you with his elbows on the table. “You think I look good with brown?”

You nod, trying to see what he’s getting at since what you said was completely innocent. “Yeah, totally.”

He grins wider, “So you’re saying I look good?”

You roll your eyes, laughing it off, “Okay… I didn’t say it like that!”

He crosses his arms, his arm tattoo distracting you enough to slip up. “So I don’t look good?” He tilts his head again like he’s waiting for you to stumble on your words.

“I didn’t say that either,” you shoot back.

“Which is it then, huh, new girl?”

You stand up, reaching to grab your empty bowl, and putting it in the sink. “Come back with your Leon costume and we’ll discuss,” you reply before heading out of the cabin.

Rindou watches you walk away, leaning back in his chair as you walk toward the door. “I better get an answer by then,” he calls out after you as you bite your lip, trying to suppress your giggles before finally stepping out of the cabin.

You walk out toward the girls’ cabin, seeing some of the guys already loitering around, either borrowing makeup or pleading for help with their own. You vaguely recall Mikey insisting on you doing his makeup too. Ugh, how the hell will you manage both his and your makeup before the party even starts?

As you enter, you spot the girls halfway through their makeup routines, Mikey planted beside Emma while inspecting her makeup, and next to him, Keisuke watches with the cutest look of confusion on his face as Emma carefully applies her eyeliner. It’s hard not to let your eyes linger on him for a moment longer than necessary. Not that he’d notice, though—his attention is all on whatever witchcraft Emma’s doing.

Mikey catches sight of you walking in and immediately perks up. “Fucking finally, you gonna do the paint now?”

You raise an eyebrow, “Who are you even gonna be?” you ask, pulling out your heavy SFX makeup from your bag with a sigh. The weight of it feels appropriate for the mess you’re about to deal with.

“I’m gonna be a vampire,” Mikey replies, crossing his arms with a smirk plastered on his face as if he’d just dropped some mind-blowing revelation.

You can’t help but deadpan as you drop the makeup bag onto the bed. As if you pulled it out for nothing, “Mikey, you barely need makeup for that.”

In the corners of your eye, you catch Keisuke approaching, your heart starts to race as you pretend to be casual about it, keeping your eyes on Mikey as Keisuke jumps in. “You gonna be a vampire? I was gonna be one.” His gaze remains stubbornly fixed on Mikey, making you subconsciously pout. Look at me, look at me!

“Uh-uh, change. I called dibs on being a vampire in August,”

You cut in, “You’d make a pretty solid Eric Draven, Keisuke,” you say with your hands clasped behind your back, holding yourself back from rocking side to side.

Keisuke finally turns his head toward you, raising an eyebrow. “Who?”

You feel your heart skip a beat—not because of him not recognizing an icon, but because, well, he’s looking at you. “He’s from The Crow,” you explain. “You’ve never seen it?”

Keisuke narrows his eyes at you in confusion, and just as you’re about to elaborate, Kazutora, sporting cute little leopard prints on the sides of his face, slides in with his arm lazily draping around your shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“I was just telling Keisuke he should be Eric Draven,” you reply, instinctively leaning slightly into Kazutora’s touch.

“Ohhh yeah, he kinda does look like him,” Kazutora agrees, giving Keisuke a light nudge. “You should totally do it.” A small part of you didn't want him to intervene. But another part of you says that Kazutora can convince Keisuke to let you do his makeup for the party. One, because you can touch his face without him being weirded out by it, and two, you get to see him in corpse paint.

Keisuke looks between you and Kazutora, brow raised in doubt. “You think so?”

“Yeah! He’s got that corpse face paint metalheads do. Plus, he’s got long hair, so you already got that down.” Kazutora explains.

“So, I look like him just ’cause he’s got long hair?"

“Nah, dude, it’s more than that. Trust me, let her do the face paint. It’ll look sick.” Kazutora finally slides his arm off of you, casually strolling away out of the cabin.

“What about me?” Mikey suddenly whines, pulling your attention back.

“Mikey… you literally just need fangs and some fake blood. You barely need anything else,” you say, turning to Emma for backup. “Right, Emma?”

Emma, engrossed in her makeup application, shrugs. “I don’t know what you just said, but yeah, sure,” she replies, turning up the volume on the music playing. Body by Summer Walker flows through the speakers, indicating that she doesn’t wanna be bothered right now.

You move over to your bed, unzipping your makeup bag and grabbing the fake blood bottle to hand to Mikey, "That'll work, just dab it everywhere on you." Then you grab the essentials for Keisuke's makeup, waving him off to sit anywhere so you can get started.

You stroll toward the dining table where everyone’s scattered their makeup tools, only to spot Keisuke already sitting there, leaning on the chair, waiting while bouncing his leg.

His eyes meet yours as you move closer to him, steadying yourself in between his legs as he moves to sit on the edge of the chair, closer to you. Legs apart enough for you to stand in between, his hands loose on his thighs. Occasionally cracking his fingers while you arrange your products away from the other girls'.

You grab the first step of the makeup, the Elf Power Grip primer, squeezing a bit of it onto your fingertips, his brows immediately furrow as soon as the cool, slightly sticky substance touches his skin.

“The hell is this? Feels sticky,” he mutters, instinctively pulling back an inch.

You grab his chin, gently but firmly, bringing him back into place. “You want this stuff to last the whole night, don’t you?”

He grunts, still clearly annoyed by the texture as you wave it off to dry with your hand before grabbing the white under-face paint stick, carefully gliding the pale white makeup across his cheek. You didn't realize how tan he is until you added paint, noting in your head that he might need a double coat as you're making sure to cover every inch, but not touching his neck.

You try not to be affected by how close he is, even though you're feeling his breath on you, and each time your fingers graze his skin, you swear his breathing deepens, just enough for you to notice. You're positive he can hear your heart hammering against your chest but you pretend to be unbothered—impossible—focusing more on doing his makeup.

You grab a brush to blend it all in, and your fingers brush his jaw as you tilt his head for a better angle. His skin is warm beneath your fingertips, a sharp contrast to the cold makeup. His eyes watching you closely, unreadable but so distracting, god why is he so fucking distracting.

You catch his gaze, and it’s like the air in the room shifts, you flash him a polite smile as you tilt his head again, blending the paint in with the brush. He huffs but doesn’t pull away this time, settling into the stool again.

As you move on to the actual white base, you dip the beauty blender into the paint and begin dabbing it across his skin. Almost immediately, he makes a face,

“Stop that,” you mutter, holding his chin steady with one hand, blending the paint in with the other.

He shoots you an exaggerated glare, eyes narrowed like a cat who’s been stepped on. “Feels like you’re trying to knock me out.”

“You’d know if I was trying to knock you out, just stay still,” you mutter, though the words come out softer than you mean them to.

“You’re good at this,” he murmurs.

“I know a thing or two.”

You dab the beauty blender on his cheek again, harder this time just to mess with him, and he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest. His long legs stretch out, and he shifts like he’s trying to get comfortable.

“Oh—god, Keisuke. Please don’t move.” You say, exasperated. “You’re making this way more complicated than it needs to be.”

He doesn’t budge, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling, “I’m perfectly comfortable like this,”

You let out a frustrated sigh, “Fix your posture, please?” you insist, tapping the side of his knee with yours. “You’re not helping me here.”

He keeps his gaze fixed on the ceiling, tongue gliding over his teeth before responding. “Nah, I like it like this.” He settles into the chair even more to get comfortable.

You mutter a ‘Jesus Christ.’ and with a huff, you put your knee on the chair, positioning it right between his legs as you lean over him. The closeness makes it harder to focus on the makeup, but you’re determined to make this work.

You reach for a couple of products to hold at hand as you're hovering over him, “If this turns out to look like shit I’m blaming it on you,” you say. He’s unyielding, maintaining that ridiculous position, and you find yourself almost pressed against him as you try to get the angle right.

“Yeah, that’s great,” he teases, his voice low, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his stubbornness.

When you finally finish with the white, he runs his hand over his face, frowning at the texture. “This stuff feels weird.”

You quickly grab his hand, "Don't touch your face, it'll crease!" You start blending the part he touched to fix it.

He raises a brow, and his expression changes in a way that you could only describe as regret that he even agreed to this, "The hell's the point in this if I can't touch my face?"

You roll your eyes at his impatience, pulling out a small container of powder. “Don’t worry, it won't move when I set it with this.”

He eyes the powder suspiciously, “What is that?”

He squints at it like he’s deep in thought. “Glitter?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Keisuke. It’s powder. You put it on top of the base paint so it 'doesn’t feel gross.'” You mock him, unscrewing the powder and dabbing it with a powder puff, dusting the excess powder before applying.

He frowns but doesn’t argue, letting you dust the powder over his face. As you work, you notice his jaw relax a little, clearly less bothered by the texture now.

You reach for the dark eyeshadow palette on the table, trying to maintain your position against him as you tip over. Just as you feel yourself wobble, his hands find your waist, steadying you on the chair. The suddenness of his touch almost actually made you tip over, the expensive palette slipping from your grasp as you froze in place, awkwardly grabbing it before it fell on its face.

You then look up to see his reaction through the mirror, your breath hitches as you catch a glimpse of his confused expression, making you jolt back to reality. You quickly regain your composure, trying to shake off the flutter in your chest. “Thanks,” you mumble, your voice steadier than you feel.

He, of course, says nothing about it, moving his hands back on his lap as you start on the black around his eyes, applying a generous amount all around it. When you reach for his waterline with your black pen, you feel him tense up again, squinting like he’s bracing himself for impact. You’re careful with the pen, making sure it doesn't bother him and yet he’s still being a baby about it, “You’re getting it in my eye,” he grumbles.

“No, I’m not. Shut up and hold still.”

He huffs, but he keeps still, though you can feel the way he’s resisting the urge to blink. As you finish the last stroke, you step back, admiring the shape of the dark circles around his eyes. He opens them fully and stretches his face again, clearly trying to get used to the feel of the makeup. He's so annoying about it but so cute still.

You shift to the other side of his face, trying to ignore the way your fingers tremble slightly as you work on the black lines around his other eye. More calm now and less freaked out over the pen.

“You’re done with that part, right? ‘Cause it’s—” He frowns, shifting in his seat.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m done.” You pull out the last piece of the look and hold it up in front of him with a grin. “Alright, what’s this?”

He squints at the small tube you’re holding, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Lipstick?”

“Wrong. It’s eyeliner.”

He mutters something under his breath but doesn’t protest as you move in closer again, tilting his head back to get the last lines around his lips. As you carefully draw the dark line around his lips, filling them in. His eyes stay locked on yours, and for a second, you pause, forgetting what you’re doing. It’s just you and him, his amber-colored eyes pulling you in like they always fucking do.

You watch his mouth move, mumbling a "You good?" with his soft-looking lips, fighting the urge to kiss him right here right now until you remembered where you were. There were people around, everybody is watching, he was watching, and you need an excuse on why you just stared at his lips for too damn long. "Yeah, it's just... I'm trying to figure out how to shape it to your lips."

He hums in response as his eyes blink to the ceiling, lifting a weight from your shoulders, and finally giving you the chance to actually focus on doing his makeup.

When you move to line the corners of his lips, your thumb accidentally brushes the corner of his mouth. His eyes flick back at you at that, but he stays quiet, his lips parting slightly as you paint the dark line.

You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way your hands feel warmer than usual. “Stop staring. It’s weird.”

He slightly smirks in response, probably knowing how much his stare affects you. You scoff, but it’s hard to focus when he’s looking at you like that. You quickly regain your composure as you move to do the lines on his eye down to his cheek, keeping it quick and sharp. You finish the last line and step back quickly from him, and once you do, you feel like you can breathe now.

You reach for the final piece of the puzzle—the setting spray. The bottle makes a soft rattling noise as you shake it, and Keisuke immediately looks suspicious.

“What’s that? Perfume?” he asks with a furrow to his brows.

“Setting spray,” you say, stepping in front of him again. “Keeps everything in place so you don’t look like a melting corpse halfway through the night. Now, close your eyes.”

He blinks a couple of times at that, but he does as he’s told, closing his eyes. The moment you spritz the mist onto his face, he scrunches up like you just sprayed him with water from a hose, his entire face contorting.

“Quit scrunching your face!” you laugh, “Just relax.”

He dramatically holds his breath, still keeping his eyes shut tight but trying to loosen up. You spray another mist, and he manages to avoid flinching this time.

“There, done,” you say, stepping back to admire your work.

Keisuke opens his eyes, blinking a couple of times as if testing whether everything is still intact. His fingers hover near his face, but he doesn’t touch the makeup.

“Feels like I just got hosed down,” he mutters, now testing the feel of the makeup on his face, and his eyes return to yours. There’s a heaviness in the way he stands, the way his shoulders shift as he rises from the chair, towering over you now.

“Well?” you ask, folding your arms. “How do you feel?”

Keisuke stretches his face out again, eyes flicking to the mirror, “Like a dead guy.” He reaches up, running a thumb over the edge of the makeup near his jawline. “You did a good job.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips as you watch him.

He tugs at his hair tie, running a hand through his hair, his intense gaze flicking over to you one last time.

“Let’s just hope this shit doesn’t come off,” he mutters, “Or else I’m blaming you.”

Before you could speak, the cabin door creaks open, Mikey, Chifuyu, and Pah-Chin strolling in, all done with their makeup and face paint, on cue to Keisuke being done as well.

Mikey’s immediate reaction is to cackle, his fake vampire fangs gleaming, “Keisuke, you look like you came out of a morgue!”

Keisuke’s eyes cut to Mikey, unimpressed. “Your fangs are bigger than your teeth,” he deadpans.

Mikey instantly shuts his mouth, clearly self-conscious about the oversized fangs, his grin shrinking into a scowl. “Shut up.”

Chifuyu, who’s been checking out Keisuke’s makeup, steps closer, “You look like you’re ready for a metal concert,” he says, his tone amused.

Pah-Chin, who’s dressed as the Joker with his own face painted up, snickers from behind them. “More like the circus.”

“You would know about that wouldn’t you?” Keisuke smacks Pah-Chin’s head from the back as they all head out the door to leave the girls’ cabin. Before he does, Keisuke shoots a final glance at you, his eyes locking with yours for just a moment longer than usual before breaking it and stepping out.

After they finally leave the cabin, you turn back at the mess you and Keisuke made, the lingering warmth of his presence still evident, making you miss him already as you collect the scattered makeup items. Just as you were about to start your makeup, the door swings open, and Mitsuya steps in, a dress draped over his arms, looking almost comically small against his frame, the realization of how tiny the dress actually looks and how naked you’re practically gonna be just decided to hit you. “Hey, almost forgot to bring this over.”

“Thanks, Mitsuya,” you say, “I really need to hurry up.”

He glances at the mess you made on the dining table, “Yeah, good luck with that, see you at the party?” he says as he rushes back to the door, also needing to put on his costume.

“Yeah, I’ll see you.” You say, rushing over to your side of the dining table, your heart racing as you quickly prepare until you realize you almost forgot the most crucial part of the costume, “The blood! I need the fake blood for the look! Oh my god. Mikey!!!” You shout, your voice echoing off the cabin walls, making Emma flinch and almost fuck up her makeup.

© 𝑯𝒀𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑪 all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work.

[korkalations]

aaliyah x DMX

[norway-plate]

meow meow meow

[transsexualhamlet]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN (yesterday) MICHAEL IS BACK! ft the college dorm that eats people . this place is going to murder me

[mxtxfanatic]

Ever think about how the author of PIDW transmigrated into his most nothing character who only existed to push the protagonist on the “right” path to popularity before dying? Ever think about how he transmigrated into that character from their birth, completely deleting that person from existence, while his own existence as the creator of the world he now inhabits is so thoroughly erased that we readers only know his “real name” as the character’s name? How the only name he carries over from his first life is a shortened version of his innuendo pen name? As if his existence as a person is nothing next to being the author, which is only marginally less nothing by virtue of the job’s one purpose: to make sure a story is following the “right” path to popularity before dying to enshrine that fame/infamy amongst readers?

No? Just me? Ok…

[devotion-disorder]

was in like a department store today and got stopped by a clerk trying to get me to open a credit card. when i turned around, he hesitated and had to ask if i was a high schooler or a college student (💀) then not even five minutes later the exact same happens AGAIN (by another clerk) like word for word. im.

[cjgladback]

I went to my first fiber festival this past weekend! Hoosier Hills Fiber Festival; if I'm still in this state come June next year, I'll probably be back and would love to meet anybody else there. Socializing/hanging out/talking to people without feeling like I was obstructing Real Customers was the one thing I missed, though I didn't really get to any of the free lectures so maybe that's where I could've met some people. Since it was an unknown situation with a lot of people and nearly an hour drive each way, I strategized to make sure I'd go:

First day, I signed up for a couple volunteer shifts. Absolutely a recommended strategy.

Got to be helpful!

They happened to have goodie bags, to help me justify the gas and time (I now have a nice tape measure to replace the one that's been vacationing with a missing sewing kit for a couple years and a lasercut wood two-inch gauge window that might help me with consistency versus my suboptimal practice of just trying to knit perfect squares when swatching in pattern)

I got to learn things about the layout and schedule I wouldn't know to ask when answering questions and acting as a gofer -- especially true working two different locations

And of course, some people were pretty much guaranteed to be happy to see me!

Second day, I signed up for a workshop in the morning so I'd be there and able to shop for anything I needed at the end. Ombre yarn dyeing was the class! It's acid dyes, something I'm several years off from wanting to get into enough to commit to dedicated cookware, full pots of dye powder, etc. The room with the workshop was a barn that had plenty of outlets--but they did not represent plenty of breakers. So there weren't quite enough functional heating elements for the class to have sufficiently cooked our yarn before leaving, and I did need to risk a giant stock pot at home for three batches of four jars, almost-simmering in a water bath for thirty minutes each, of the yarn that hadn't proven it was done (all but the two palest greens). I was a little worried the delay/drawn out heat situation would affect the results but if it did it wasn't much; I got pretty much exactly what I was hoping for with my two color gradient and the single is great too!

The single dye gradient is the color Moss, which did some interesting things with the red portion separating out once they were heated. Every skein has redder blotches, so I'm not bothered about any inconsistency -- if anything it'll help my finished product camouflage stains. Though it was definitely a surprise for me and the other Moss user in the class when our first yarn to have exhausted the dye was the complementary color to what it went in as.

The two color gradient used Rhodamine Red on one end, which was one end of one of our instructor's samples where she chose a cool-green for the other end to show how multi-component dyes mix less predictably than most paint. (It was kinda like shading with markers where you can still see washes of the pink and green in what you squint at and call a grey-brown.) The other end was Cantaloupe, which was one of the maybe three colors she didn't have a sample cut of yarn for. But she described it as the flesh of a perfect ripe cantaloupe and obviously I had to see that, and it sounded like it would be fairly guaranteed to combine nicely with the magenta while being just enough around a bend in the color wheel to be interesting--warm orange versus cool pink. As I said, it turned out pretty much exactly as I was picturing. Not anticipated was how much the jars looked like they were full of some delicious dragonfruit-mango beverage. Were I still a barista I'd be trying to recreate this for my shift drink.

Image descriptions under the cut.

[ID: Five images following fourteen small skeins of sock yarn dyed in individual glass jars, in two gradients. One gradient is six skeins from a medium forest green through a pale creamy pink, the other is eight skeins from a vibrant yellow orange through an even more vibrant magenta. The first photo is inside under fluorescent lights, showing the 32oz glass canning jars with metal lids and rings, full of dye and yarn on a table at the end of the class in which they were filled and heated for a short time.

The next two images are animated gifs. The first gif is two frames showing the finished dye jars sitting in grass, with their yarn and with it removed. The green gradient left only transparent blue color in its jars, and most of the pink to orange gradient's water looks more orange without its yarn, aside from the third and fourth jars from the orange end, which shade toward a neon lilac with the peachy pink yarn removed. The second gif is a view of the inside of the bright green wash bucket, with just the pink-orange yarn in it, then all of them mixed up, all as they were after a soak with the rust-brown water, in the first rinse, and that rinse water alone showing its transparent but still brown tint.

The last two photos show the gradients lined up along a weathered wooden bench on the side of a deck. The first photo has the wet piles of yarn bundled in front of each of their respective jars with remaining dye. The final photo has the clean, dry yarn wound into center-pull balls and still vibrant in the direct sunlight. End ID]

[theokusgallery]

Hiiii I saw you say you have Notes on your Remus and Janus designs 👀👀?

Could we see/hear some tidbits?

FOR SURE !! Here's what the original doodles for their designs look like, first off, (I know you didn't ask for Virgil but I did these three at the same time)

When I drew this I had just finished an exam and had to wait another hour until I could leave the classroom, so I wrote down enough notes that I had to flip the page instead:

Virgil:

- Virgil has light brown hair that he dyes black (badly). It is essential that the dye job look like shit. It looks artificial, his roots are showing, there's patches where the color didn't take, etc etc.

- He also has blue eyes, which I decided on mostly because it makes it even more clear that his hair isn't naturally black.

- He wears earrings, but his ears aren't actually pierced — they're fake little little clip-on things.

- He wears black nail polish at all times, but it's always chipped because he gets the cheapest stuff he can get his hands on.

- His hair (especially his bangs) get very long at times because he gets too socially anxious to go to the hairdresser. Back in middle school, he used to have Janus cut them for him (Remus could have done a better job but trusting him with scissors would have been a mistake). Now he mostly cuts it off by himself — it looks about as good as his dye job.

- Virgil's purple hoodie is a leftover from Remus' fashion design endeavors that Remus thought didn't look weird enough.

Janus:

- He has naturally strawberry blonde hair. The length is very important to him — he started growing it towards the end of middle school. (He allows Remus to experiment with hairdos sometimes as long as he doesn't cut anything off. I need to draw that sometime)

- I'm not entirely settled on his eye color. I know at least one of his eyes is a very pretty brown, but I have half a mind to give him a yellow glass eye for his left side — I'm not sure it'd make any logistic sense for his situation, though

- He got his ears actually pierced when he was 16.

- He also may or may not have a forked tongue. Not sure how I'd ever be able to show that off — but if he does have one, then Remus definitely was the one to encourage him to do it.

- His fashion style was definitely influenced by being around Remus (who may have used him as a mannequin/dummy because he's small.) so much. Remus also attempted to make clothes for him, but Janus is very fancy and picky, so he doesn't wear those clothes very often (though he might accessorize with stuff Remus made for him occasionally).

Remus:

- He has naturally very dark hair. He uses temporary/surface level dyes a lot, but if he's using permanent or semi-permanent dyes, he's usually limiting himself to the grey streak — it's kind of a sample strand, since it's already bleached. He 100% copied his hairstyle from Roman's.

- He (and Roman, of course) has greenish blue eyes.

- Janus paid for him to get his ears (and eyebrows) professionally pierced because otherwise he was just going to do it himself with a sewing needle.

- He has a lot of very shitty stick-and-poke tattoos he made/makes on himself. They're almost always hidden by his outfits.

- Speaking of which, Remus makes most of his outfits costumes himself. The quality of the work may vary, but they are always way too over-the-top for casual wear, because he stands out anyway, so... in for a penny, right. (As I said in the tags of a post: he is very creative and has no shame or social anxiety at all, so he had his whole aesthetic ("overdramatic green") figured out by the time he was 13)

- He also has SH scars, but, again — they're hidden by his outfits 99% of the time. He's a slut who never shows an inch of skin

[reverieaudios]

Gave myself a haircut because I'm apparently incapable of growing it out. Also I got new glasses and they make me feel like Bayonetta

Under the cut in case you don't wanna know what I look like lol

[clubhoops]

NYX Professional Makeup has teamed up with USC Women’s Basketball star JuJu Watkins in a groundbreaking deal, marking the first makeup endorsement for a female college basketball player. As an ambassador, Watkins will lead national campaigns across NYX’s social and digital platforms, promoting the “Make Them Look” message of bold self-expression. She’ll also make her in-store debut with featured displays nationwide, highlighting the powerful connection between beauty and sports.

[icedteadelimao]

got dressed as kesha and dyed my friends hair red #halloween2024

Sony CyberShot DSC-W275

[korkalations]

it’s my birthday!!! $koreykendal

[norway-plate]

me on the train :3 hope no one comes behind me…