#never looking at rhis again

[wwhttps]

hrrrrr hes my fave but i cant figure out how to draw him

[slabime]

ye old man angst. I inflict it upon you.

[meimeikyu]

beep

[imaginesomethingrand]

But it really is a thankless job esp for someone so emotionally fragile and empathetic and easily discouraged

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

+

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

+

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

+

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

+

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

+

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

+

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

+

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you��� just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[mustainegf]

okay but what if like james and you where play fighting and tickling eachother and hes like "god i love your giggle" and you start making out while being all giggly and blushing together (I WORDES RHIS WRONG BUT OMGGG)

AWWWW DUDE

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁸³

James and I giggled while we sat on his bed, with him going through his record collection to brag to me. James and I had known each other since junioryear, wed always been close, closer than most friends, but never THAT kind of close. At least not yet.

Our chemistry was obvious though, and if you couldn't tell by our constant giggles in class or the way we'd look at one another from across the room, well, that's just how much we liked each other.

And this time wasn't different.

We were sitting next to each other on his bed and we were having a great time. He found an old record and held it up.

It was Motorhead. "Look at this!" he said excitedly as he put it onto the record player and turned it on.

"This is so good." I nodded in agreement because it was very good.

"Fuckin' love Lemmy.." James smirked, bobbing his head to the song, he was so cute, just like a little puppy dog.

There's nothing cuter than a man who likes music.

Especially when that man looks like James does.

I playfully poke his side, making him smile and flinch. "You're so cute," I laugh.

He blushes a bit and tries to act cool about it.

"Yeah?" That damn boyish charm of his had me hooked, he knew what to do, he knew how to get me.

My heart was fluttering for some reason, and my body was getting hot, sweaty even. The more I stared into those blue eyes of his the more anxious I felt; the more anxious I got the hotter I got.

"Yeah," I chuckle, trying to blush off the feeling in my stomach. James responded with his fingers darting to my sides.

He tickles me until I can barely breathe. I yell and kick my feet, but he doesn't stop until I promise to let go. Then we both fall back onto the bed, still attacking each other playfully.

I giggle and shriek between laughs, trying my best to shove him off. "Stop it!" I gasp.

He responds by snickering and grabbing me tighter. My face is burning red from all the laughing and his grip is strong.

We both pant as we stare at each other, frozen now, gazes locked. "Hey..." James catches his breath, swallowing deeply as his cheeks begin to go pink.

I give him a quick nod. "Yeah... Hey.." My voice gets softer as we start breathing together, as our bodies connect, I feel myself sweating again. I don't know why I'm getting nervous all of a sudden.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, trying to figure out where things stand. His brow furrows, he thinks about his answer for a moment before answering.

"Just.. You." He smiles sheepishly, slightly blushing."... Me? Why?" I raise my eyebrows, shifting a little against him. "Cause you're my best friend... and um, you're really pretty." He admits shyly.

I smile softly, raising my hand to gently caress his cheek with the pad of my thumb. "James..." I whisper, gazing into those icy blue eyes.

He gives me a bashful grin, taking his hand to rub mine. His voice quivers with nervousness. "Y-yeah?" I lean forward and kiss him slowly, passionately.

The instant my lips touch his they part and we devour each other. He presses his lips harder against mine, moaning sweetly into my mouth. We move closer together and soon enough I feel his arms wrap around me.

We hold onto each other tightly as our tongues find each other. After a few minutes we break apart, breathing heavily, smiling innocently.

We sit there staring into each other's eyes. No words spoken. Just our hearts pounding. This whole thing feels so surreal right now.

A sly grin began to slip into his lips. James shifted from overtop of me, leaning to turn up the record before leaning back over me and finding my lips with his again. I could feel him smiling against my lips.

We continued kissing for a long time, exploring each other's mouths with our tongues. Eventually, we lay down beside each other, snuggling close under the covers.

After a while of laying there we realized that the album had finished playing. So James switched it over to Side B.

Before long we found ourselves tangled up in each other's arms once again. We kept kissing and caressing each other slowly, completely wrapped up in the passion of the moment.

I couldn't stop myself from giggling onto his lips, pulling back as the weight of what was going on finally hit me.

James looked worried. "Are you okay?" he asks nervously. I tried to calm myself down by taking deep breaths. "Yeah," I respond after a moment.

"I'm fine, I'm sorry. I just..." I pause and sigh.

"I can't believe we're doing this." I run my fingers through his soft blonde hair, noticing the brownish tint in it. "You're so beautiful." He whispers, sliding his hands over my arms.

I quickly peck his lips with a giggle. "So are you, Jamsie," I chuckle quietly.

He moves closer to me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and running his other hand across my chest. I scoot closer too, and we press our foreheads together as we lay there, lost in each other's gaze.

"I love you by the way..." James mumbled, slowly turning his head to look into my eyes.

It was too late to think before I told him. "I love you too." It came spilling out of my mouth before I could even register what I'd said. But when I did, I knew nothing else mattered but me and him.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 10 - Shifting Tides

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Soo, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Violet starts as the three of them walk down their new dorm. First year dorms may be the smallest private dorms on campus, but damn, all Genevieve could think was that was the best night sleep of her life. 

“I felt like celebrating,” She said, and Genevieve whistled. 

“You didn’t think to ask me first?” She says, her words light as a small smile comes on her face. 

“You have enough on your plate, sex wise,” Rhiannon said, teasing Genevieve. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?”  She asks Violet. “Ridoc definitely has a thing for you, not emotionally just physically, and Liam has a thing for you emotionally.” 

“Liam? Liam Mairi? You’re insane.” Violet says, waving her off. “And either way, if he wants to celebrate with me, he’s going to have to ask first.” 

Genevieve and Rhiannon laugh, and she giggles too, a blush on her cheeks. 

“Good morning, Ladies.” Ridoc says, forcing his way through the crowd and slinging an arm around their shoulders as they enter the dining hall. “Or should I say, riders.”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction. 

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees. 

“It definitely sounds better than dead.” Genevieve says, her voice serious but the tone implicates a tease. 

“Where’s your relic?” Violet asks, used to ignoring the awful offhand comments Genevieve makes. 

“Right here,” He says, his arm falling off of their shoulders as he rolls his sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown silhouette of a dragon on his upper arm. “You?” 

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.” Ridoc whistles, and he spins to face Rhiannon. 

“And you? What about yours, Rhi?” 

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” She responds, and he laughs. 

“You wound me.” He slaps a hand over his heart. 

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there's a smile on her face. The group moves through the hall into the line for breakfast. 

“And Genevieve?” He asks Rhiannon, completely bypassing asking Genevieve who he knows isn’t paying attention. 

“On her back,” Rhiannon says. “It’s crazy looking. Her rebellion relic mixes with her dragon relic. It’s insane.” 

As they make their way through the line, Genevieve’s mind is elsewhere. It feels as if the energy in the dining hall has shifted. It’s different now. 

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in a context Genevieve hasn’t heard. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.” 

“I can,” Violet shrugged, taking her chances with a maybe poisoned mug of apple juice. “I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out of the wing.” 

“I don’t even know what you’re saying, but they’d have to kill me first,” Genevieve says, taking a bite out of her own apple. As they walk to the fourth wing section of the cafeteria, they find a table and only three extra seats. 

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts. 

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench. 

“Sorry, Hale!” The other says over his shoulder as they find another table. 

What the fuck?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and Genevieve sits on the other side as Violet follows. 

“Even weirder?” Ridoc remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing. 

The girls follow his line of sight, and their eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take a seat. 

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews. Jack moves again, and then again.

”Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Ridoc notes, watching the same show they all are. There’s no satisfaction in their view, everyone knows feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered. 

“Hey, Hale,” the stocky girl from First Wing I beat in my second challenge says with a tight smile as she walks past our table. 

“Hey,” she says, nodding her head, but then she turns to face Rhiannon. “That girl hasn’t spoken one word to me since I threatened her hair when she beat up Violet.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench. She sits, pushing the sleeves up from her tunic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Hale, are now the most powerful rider in the quadrant. If they weren’t scared before they’re definitely scared now.” 

She blinks, her pulse elevating. Is that what is going on? Social groups have split, but it still doesn’t make sense-

“Which is why you’re sitting with us now?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised. 

Genevieve glances around the table, to the seconds years, Quinn and Imogen, and to Sawyer who has finally arrived. Imogen is cool and Quinn is cool as well, but this was strange. Genevieve’s eyes glance at the patches on their jackets, but she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows that her patches mean Flame Section, Fourth Wing, First Year, and now also Iron Squad. 

“You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before, and now you’ve survived Threshing, so you’re worth it.” Imogen responds as she bites into a muffin. Suddenly the third years in their section sit down too, and Genevieve almost chokes on the apple she’s been nursing the entirety of breakfast. 

“My dragon is not that cool, if that's what you’re looking for,” She says, biting her tongue from saying anything mean. 

“I take immediate offense to that,” Tairn huffs. “Now eat something more than an apple and get over your fear that Oren has poisoned you.” 

“I’m not eating the food on my plate,” Genevieve counters. “It’s definitely poisoned.” 

“We aren’t looking for your dragon,” Imogen says, her voice strong. “We’re looking for you, because now you’re under our watch. Now eat your food.”

Genevieve looks bewildered, but she doesn’t say a single thing. 

“You’re the Iron Squad, and you and Violet both have some crazy dragons on your tail. That means eyes are on you from every direction. A huge red target is painted on your back.” Her voice is low, but it cuts through the clamor of the hall. “And whether you like it or not, this balance isn’t going to change any time soon, so get used to it.” 

Genevieve glances at Rhiannon, confusion evident on her face. 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” She says, her words biting and strong. 

“Oh, Xaden didn’t tell you?” She says, a sly smile on her face. “Tairn and Sgaeyl are mated, so even though your relic isn’t on your arm, you’re one of us now.”

“Oh shit,” Ridoc whispers, and Violet nods her head in agreement. 

“You’re in our squad now.” 

—————————————-

Violet had explained to Genevieve that mated dragons aren’t common, not even by a long shot, and to let mated dragons bond riders in different years was unheard of, but dragons do what dragons want, as exemplified by Violet. 

She explained that Xaden and Genevieve themselves are now binded, their lives intertwined in some sick curse that ties their fate with a little red string. When one dies, the other dies, when one gets hurt, the other feels it, when one feels another strong emotion, the other feels the emotion. She was never alone with Tairn now, but not only was Tairn in her head, Xaden was too. 

“Stop thinking so hard and get on my back, we have maneuvers to master,” Tairn grumbled, his voice low. She mounted his back, and found her seat easily. 

“Were you planning on telling me? That you and Sgaeyl were mated?” She asked over the bond, her mind distracted from her actions. 

“Sgaeyl had assured me that the wingleader would tell you, and that I shouldn’t worry about it,” He said, his tone grumpy like it usually was. “I see now that he did not, and I should stop trusting that wingleader.” 

“You don’t like Xaden?” She asked, as they took off, following second behind Professor Kaori, who Tairn had said he would only follow because he was Genevieve’s professor. 

“I don’t like the boy,” Tairn huffed. “But Sgaeyl loves him, so I won’t char him. Maybe I’ll lightly toast him.” 

“You shouldn’t set him on fire anyways, he’s an asset,” She said quickly, ignoring the blush rising on her cheeks. Genevieve cast another glance down at Violet, a few dragons back. Andarna didn’t come, Violet flew on Astrape alone.  “What’s the deal with Violet and Astrape?” Genevieve asked, quickly diverting the conversation away from Xaden and onto Violet. “She looks like she can’t hold her seat.” 

“She can’t,” Tairn replies, banking left, following Kaori into the canyons. “Astrape is one of the strongest dragons in the vale, maybe third to Codagh and I. Her powers are keeping Violet in that seat.” 

“Shouldn’t she be saving her powers, for…” Genevieve trailed off, not knowing how to verbalize what she wanted to say. “…combat?”

“Stop asking meaningless questions,” Tairn huffed, his annoyance evident in every word that was communicated in their bond. “Astrape has more power in her than most other dragons could even imagine having. She will be fine.” 

And Genevieve nodded, who was she to argue with a dragon, an all-mighty, all-knowing being. The dragon that had chosen her. She was not one to argue. Her grip tightened on Tairn’s back as the cool rush of wind from the canyon blew against her hot skin. She knew better than to press Tairn when he was already somewhat irritated, but she wanted to know how Violet was keeping her seat. 

As they neared the sharp turns of the canyon, Genevieve let the questions go, her focus snapping to the task at hand. Flight training was brutal, she couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration. Train’s powerful wings sliced through the air as they banked hard left, narrowly avoiding the jagged cliffs that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Kaori’s dragon led the pack, weaving through the narrow paths with ease. She could sense Tairn’s irritation at following anyone, but for some reason, it felt as if he cared enough about her to swallow his pride. 

Behind her, the presence of a struggling Violet claws at her mind. 

Be quiet, Geneiveve, She chastised herself. Violet is your friend. She’s trying. Be nice. 

“I didn’t know nice was in your vocabulary,” Train huffed. “Now focus.” 

“I am!” She shot back, adjusting her posture as they approached a narrow pass. The jagged rocks below glinted dangerously in the sunlight, promising death to anyone who made the wrong move. 

As they passed the gap, her eyes flicked back to Violet, who was struggling more visibly now. Astrape’s wings beat with precise power, but there was something off about the way Violet held herself in the saddle. She was slipping, her body tense and rigid, as if each move was a desperate attempt to stay upright. Geneiveve knew that look–the look of someone who was fighting for control, not just over their dragon, but over themselves. 

“She’s going to fall,” Genevieve muttered over the bond, her heart skipping a beat. 

“She won’t,” Train replied, his voice steady but cold. “Astrape won’t let her.” 

Kaori signaled the next maneuver–a sharp dive into a winding ravine, followed by an immediate ascent. Genevieve could feel the pressure in her chest as Tairn obeyed, plunging toward the ground with a terrifying speed that left her stomach in knots. 

As they pulled up, her breath caught in her throat as Tairn shot off. He was so fast. The wind in her hair was so freeing. 

“You ready?” Train asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge. 

“Always.”

With a swift movement, they dove into the loops, Train’s wings angling perfectly to guide them through the tight spaces. Genevieve felt every shift, every beat in sync with her movements. They were seamless, an extension of each other. The world blurred around her as they cut through the air, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. 

But out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Violet, behind her, struggling more than ever. Astrape’s wings fell, just for a split second, and Genevieve knew–knew deep in her heart–that Violet wasn’t going to make it through the next turn.

“Violet!” She shouted, the sound swallowed by the rush of wind, her heart lurching. 

She felt the tug of the bond, Xaden’s awareness surging into her thoughts. He felt it too, the fear, the instinct to protect. But Genevieve couldn’t let herself be distracted by that–by him. 

“Leave it!” Train barked, sensing her instinct to intervene. 

Genevieve hesitated, her grip tightening as the next loop approached. She had to make a decision. Focus on the maneuver, or–

Astrape dipped down, grabbing Violet with her claws and tossing her back into her seat. 

“Thank the gods,” Genevieve whispered, her own heart racing as if she was the one who fell. 

“Look at you, you have emotions!” Train laughed. 

“Oh, shut up!”

—————————————

“Were you planning on-” her shin came into contact with the punching bag she was using. “never telling me that our dragons are mated?” 

Xaden’s eyes were dead set onto her body under the guise of watching her train. Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Liam, and a few other rebellion kids were in the gym. As Genevieve’s eyes cast over the room, her eyes narrowed on Violet. 

“And why is Imogen training Violet?” Her other leg made contact strongly, but she was distracted, so she stumbled back. 

“I was going to tell you, I was just waiting for…” he trailed off, his words lost on an already angry Genevieve. 

“No you weren’t. You were going to wait for me to ask like always,” she snapped. Her eyes held so much rage, Xaden could feel the flames of anger engulfing him. “Did you manipulate Threshing?” Her voice was a dangerous whisper. “Did you tell Sgaeyl to bond me so we would be linked together?”

“Of course not!” He immediately responded. “This is the worst case scenario, I do not want to be linked to you.”

Genevieve’s expression narrowed, her body going rigid with tension. Her expression darkened as she took a step closer to Xaden, the sheen of her sweat glistening under the mage lights, but her focus was far from the physical exertion of training. “Worst case scenario?” She repeated, her words venomous. “So being bound to me is so repulsive that it’s your worst case scenario?”

Xaden ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching with tension as the weight of his own words sank in. 

“Gen, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” his voice softened, trying to ease the fire that radiated off of Genevieve. “This bond just complicates things—everything. You know that.”

She scoffed, eyes flicking between him and the rest of the room. The rebellion kids continued their sparring, laughter mingling with the sharp sound of fists hitting targets, completely unaware of the storm brewing between them. Violet had slowed her movements, however, casting a glance in their direction. It only fueled Genevieve’s resentment.

Genevieve’s fingers curled into fists, her knuckles whitening with the force of her anger. She took another deliberate step toward Xaden, her voice low and cutting, barely concealing the fury beneath the surface. “Complicates things for you, you mean.” Her eyes narrowed further, the tension in her muscles betraying her desire to his something—maybe even someone. “Because Gods forbid you have to deal with the consequences of anything outside your control.”

Xaden’s jaw tensed as he fought to keep his composure, but Genevieve’s words hit home. He’d always prided himself on control—of his dragon, his squad, his emotions—and now, it was unraveling. Genevieve, with her endless need for vengeance, her relentless drive, and now their unwanted bond, was the epicenter of that chaos. She was the reason. 

“I didn’t choose this,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration. “Do you think I wanted Tairn to bond with you? This is as much of a shock to me as it is to you.” His faze flickered away briefly, landing on Violet again, who had now fully paused her training to watch. That momentary distraction only inflamed Genevieve’s temper further. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. She advanced again, her proximity forcing Xaden to meet her eyes. “This isn’t about the bond alone. This is about trust. This is about the fact that you kept this from me. That you decided what I should or shouldn’t know, like you always do.” 

Xaden’s face hardened. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was trying to figure out the details of it, how to handle it before—”

“Before what?” Genevieve’s voice rose now, drawing the attention of the others in the gym. Xaden’s group of friends in the training gym paused, sensing the rising tensions. “Before you thought it was convenient to share? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice the massive life-altering detail until it was too late for me to get angry?” 

Liam, sensing the explosive energy in the room, began walking toward them, his easy grin faltering, but Garrick held him back, shaking his head with an easy ‘no’. Imogen and Bodhi exchanged glances, but they stayed in place. Violet’s eyes lingered, her posture tense, though she hadn’t moved. 

Xaden stepped closer to Genevieve now, his voice lowered but charged with intensity. “I was waiting until I could tell you in a way that didn’t—”

“Make you look like the selfish bastard you are?” Genevieve interjected harshly, her words hitting with the force of a blow. Her body was shaking, but not from the fatigue. It was from the rage she’d been suppressing since Imogen told her news that Xaden should have said in private. Since she’d realized that Xaden, despite everything they’d shared, still decided to withhold something so vital. 

He flinched, a flash of regret crossing his face, but he didn’t retreat. “You know that’s not true,” he said quickly, but with conviction. “You know I never wanted this, but I didn’t want to make it worse either.”

”Worse?” Genevieve spat, her eyes blazing. “There is no ‘worse,’ Xaden. They’re dragons that bind our fate down to our own deaths and you let Imogen, someone who is practically a stranger, tell me? Instead of facing it and telling me you ran. You ran from me, from this, from everything.” 

For a moment, the silence between them was deafening. The others in the gym held their breaths, waiting for the explosion. Genevieve’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she glared at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that would justify his actions. But Xaden remained still, his expression unreadable as he weighed his next words carefully. 

“I didn’t run,” he said finally, his voice like a storm on the horizon—low, dark, and gathering strength. “I’m here, aren’t I? Fighting for us, for whatever the hell this bond means.” 

Genevieve’s gaze hardened further, but something flickered beneath her fury. His words had struck a chord, and for a brief second, she felt the weight of his own burdens, his fears. But it wasn’t enough to douse the fire inside her. 

“And yet,” she whispered, stepping back, the space between them feeling like a chasm, “you keep pushing me away. Every time I get close, every time there’s a chance for something between us that isn’t just physical, you shut down. You keep your secrets, your plans, and now even this from me.”

The gym was still now, the air thick with unspoken tension. Everyone was watching, waiting for the next move. But Genevieve didn’t care. She was done playing his games, done being a pawn in a world of half-truths and manipulations. 

“Maybe being bound to you really is the worst-case scenario,” she said bitterly, her voice cold as ice. “Because I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”

The mage light above her blew out in a craze of sparks and glitter, and it felt like her skin was on fire with… magic. 

“Day one of dragon bonds,” Imogen started, awe laced into the sarcasm she normally carried. 

“And Genevieve is already channeling.” Violet finished. 

And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving the gym and a stunned silence in her wake, her anger radiating like heat off her skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! What’s up? I’ve currently written a few chapters ahead so I can keep updating twice a week for at least a few weeks, so hopefully this new schedule makes you all happy!

On another note, I just wanted to say thank you for all of your words of appreciation and your compliments, I seriously cannot believe you guys actually read what I write and for you to tell me how much you love it makes me so happy I want to cry.

Please, like and comment if you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts! What’re your predictions on her signet? I want to know~

[danikamariewrites]

requesting a Xaden fic with MAJOR anger vibes but comfort at the end bc I need happiness!! maybe jealous trope or one goes to break up for safety matters idk!!

Jealous Boy

Xaden x reader

A/n: I made this jealous/protective Xaden with a hint of anger in there and of course it ends in fluff

Warnings: angst

Xaden wouldn’t describe himself as jealous or insecure when it came to his relationship with you. But he couldn’t help his emotions when he saw you with another boy in your year, Bryson.

He never wanted to step on your toes or be controlling. You’re your own person and he didn’t want to be the crazy boyfriend. But, his gut was telling him that Bryson wasn’t truly your friend.

As Xaden walked down the hall he saw you, Rhi, Liam, and Bryson on your way to lunch. You were all laughing and he smiled. Your laugh is infectious and it made him unbelievably happy.

His smile quickly turned into a frown as Bryson caressed your shoulder. He noticed the uncomfortable expression that flashed on your face as your eyes watched his hand. You shrug him off and the four of you go back to your conversation. Why didn’t you say something? He though to himself.

Sgaeyl clears her throat in his mind, “Don’t leave her with him Riorson. Go to her.” At her command Xaden’s pace quickens.

He shoves in next to you, pushing Bryson to walk behind the group. Xaden drapes his arm around you, “Hi sweetheart.” His the corner of his lip curves upward as you look up at him, relief washing over you. “Hi babe.” You wrap your arms around his middle and he kisses the top of your head.

Xaden throws Bryson a glare while your face is buried in his chest. It promises a painful death if he ever touches you again.

A little over a week later Xaden had some free time, so he set out to find you. You were in one of the study halls with Rhi and Liam, books spread out on the table in front of you. You were all relaxed in the worn leather armchairs until Liam sat up, spotting Bryson making his way over.

He sat on the arm of your chair. You clearly didn’t want him there as he made himself comfortable. Liam’s eyes lock with Xaden’s. Liam could tell Xaden was furious. He started beckoning Xaden over with slight head movements and his eyes, begging him to make Bryson leave.

Xaden had brought him up to Liam a few nights ago, asking why he wouldn’t leave you alone. Usually Liam keeps an eye on you for Xaden, protecting you when he couldn’t. “I tell him she’s with you all the time and to back off but he won’t listen to me.” Liam had said. Xaden didn’t like that answer. He made sure to try and be around more to scare Bryson off, but clearly his presence wasn’t enough for this asshole.

You notice Liam looking over your shoulder and turn to see who was behind you. As soon as you spot Xaden you smile. Thank Gods! You kept meaning to tell him about Bryson bothering you. You were fed up with being and nice and by the look on Xaden’s face you knew he was done too. Xaden gives you a tight nod as his eyes narrow on the back of Bryson’s head.

Bryson moves his hand from his lap to play with the ends of your ponytail. You freeze at the unwanted touch. Rhi let’s out a sigh through her teeth, “You better let go of her dude.” Before he can process what Rhi said to him Xaden grabbed him by the shoulder, ripping him off your armchair.

“I never. Want to see you around her again.” His scowl looked like a menacing dragons. If you didn’t know he was human, you’d expect him to start spitting fire at any moment. He pulled Bryson roughly by the front of his shirt, “Do you understand me? You ever bother her again you’re dead.”

Bryson looked like he was about to wet himself, finally being met with Xaden’s anger was terrifying. He nods like his head is about to fall off. He stumbles over his words and Xaden pushes him away. Bryson trips over his feet as he rushes out of the study hall.

You stand up, flinging your arms around Xaden. “Thank you.” He wraps an arm around your waist, bringing his other hand up to cradle the back of your head. “Are you ok?” “Yeah, I’m good.” Xaden sits in your chair, pulling you into his lap.

You rest your head on his shoulder, leaving a few pecks on the side of his neck. With Bryson gone everyone let’s out a sigh of relief. Your little group falls into easy conversation and you relax against Xaden. Happy he’s holding you, safe in his arms.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris

[mellohd]

EMH Marble Hornets AU!!

ok i know im not creative when it comes to aus but i thought itd be interesting to tell the story of MH through EMH’s story? IF YOU GUYS HAVE THOUGHTS OR QUESTIONS PLS LEAVE SOME IN MY INBOX!!! :-]( or even questions for the MH!EMH characters heh)1

Basically its just marble hornets told through EMH, for example instead of “tapes i found” story telling theyd open a youtube channel for tips and tricks on making your own movie while they make their own called Marble Hornets! EMH/MLA spoilersish up ahead

Heres the character correspondences:

Alex-> Jeff

Jay-> Vinnie

Tim-> Evan

Brian-> Michael!MLA

Jess-> Alex!EMH

Amy ->Jeffs GF(so sorry i forgot her name 😭)

“Masky”->Habit(which makes sense depending on the theories you go with for either series)

“Hoody”->Patrick (same as the last one)

Characters in cant figure out an association with:

Steph, Jess(Evans bestfriend) Shaun So they might just not have a place in this story idk

Since Mlanderson and EMH are in the same universe i thought id make Brian the Michael/Patrick of this story, except more involved. Instead of their being a shaun i think id like Brian to just go to MH crew, if ykwim. I did this cause the only other character i thought could fit Brian was Alex!EMH and I didnt like that.

My take on Masky is that hes just a more aware Tim, not a separate being (tho i do like to think of it that way for fun sometimes ha ha). Masky in my mind was in a battle against the operators control and was ultimately trying to help Jay. I think Masky would br Habit in this series cause of the theory that Habit is one of the first few iterations of Evan, thats why theyre similar and so compatible etc if you know the theory you know. That does mean that Tim isnt gonna act all ha ity, just more erratic i think, i havent gone tooooooo far into a characterization(or even a name) for Emh!MH Habit yet

“Hoody” I see as just brian and he was just disguising himself. in this au “Hoody” would be patrick. Let me explain,

Frim what i gathetef through my second watch of EMH and, my first of MLA , patrick is just Michael but remembers every single iteration, hes a similar being to Habit, thats why he has powers ig? Look i havent gotten too far into theories fir MLA the fandom is so dead i never see any 😭😭. I dont want to get to far into theories on other series anyways cause rhis is about my AU so ANYYYYWAYS i think brian would fit that its just brians story doesnt fit entirely with Michael, actually Tim would probably fit more now that i think about it. Oh god now im thinking of switching them again uhm wtv

I think the rest of the correspondences make sense if you think about it a bit. Jay as Vinnie makes sense to me because of boths compulsive need for answers even though its destructive to those around them. Jay wouldnt be as much as a villain in this like vinnie is (or maybe i havent decided muahaha). I also thought they fit cause they both do that weird thing where they constatly have to document everything.

I thought tim eould fit Evan just cause of the whole habit arc.

Alex as Jeff was more of a fill a role thing that eventually made sense to me. I did think of making him Evan and Tim Jeff, and im still thinking of doing this, but i thought the whole finding the gf arc would fit alex more. Alex would still be one of the villains i think. Like i said this would be marble hornets told through EMH lol. I might even switch it up and assign a habit type role to Alex instead and there be two patrick characters who knows!

As you can tell im still thinking this through so maybe mext post i make about this will be more solid. if youre interested to talk about this kore with me(obv my inbox) or i have a slenderverse discord i made with my friend heh tik tok smug emoji. come join if youre looking for more slenderverse friends(and if youre interested in darkharvest and mla especially cause i need more people to talk about that to 😭😭)

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

OMG HELLO HELLO okay so I saw your lil inbox saying “up for requests!” and so I’m assuming that your requests is open and if it isn’t I am SUPERR DUPER SORRY BOOKIE ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

OKAY SO I was wondering if you would totally be up for Clawdeen x Fem! Humanoid Kitsune! Reader? LIKE FLUFFY HEADCANONS I FEEL LIKE THEY WOULD BE SOO CUTE TOGETHER ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ

ANYWAYY IF YOU READ AND DECIDE TO DO RHIS THANK YOUU SM >.<‼️

Hello Pookie! Yes my request box is always open unless I specify before hand rn they are open as a archway to a temple lol

Okay love this prompt and x reader pairing

I've never done headcanons so bear with me here haha,i love kitsune and their lore so happy to make this

__________________________________________

Clawdeen wolf x fem! Kitsune! Reader (with humanoid features)

(H/t) hair type

(H/c) hair color

(E/c) eye color

(S/c) skin color

Fluff/relationship headcanons

I will make a little background how y'all got together and then the couple headcanons

Clawdeen never thought she would ever find someone that would catch her interest let alone have a crush but that all changed when she saw you.

Walking through the halls with her BFF Draculaura something had caught her eye so she naturally looked over to her left and then she fully focused on the ghoul passing by.

A beautiful kitsune with (h/t) (h/c) hair, beautiful (e/c) eyes that seem so gently yet wise radiant clear (s/c) the seemed soft to the touch, you were dressed in a short kimono dress with kneehigh heels with gold accents all around even on the accents of the flower patterns on your kimono, you gave her a smile and said "hi" as you walked passed her and her best friend Draculaura in the hallway

That was the moment clawdeen knew she had to get to know you and maybe become something more. She didn't know yet but she had this strong feeling in her chest and that she should at least try to find you again today.

And to her surprise later that day Clawdeen had actually found you once more 'okay you got this Clawdeen' she walked up to you and started up a conversation "Hey i wanted to say i love your outfit its so fierce" clawdeen pushed her bangs out the way as she looked at you with a toothy smile.

You look at the ghoul in front of you happily "thank you! I love your skirt, the patterns are so clawsome" the looked at each other a little buzz in the air "mind if I sit down?" Clawdeen asked you "not at all please I'd love some company, oh and I'm [Name] what's yours?" [Name] extended her hand to the ghoul sitting across from her at the outdoor table, "Clawdeen, nice to meet you" [Name] nodded saying "nice to meet you too Clawdeen"

The two ended up chatting about fashion and their interests and then two months into knowing each other Clawdeen had asked [Name] out with chocolates and flowers which made the ghoul swoon and ran into the wolf's arm kissing her cheek and exclaimed "yes yes yes" as her fluffy tails wagged side to side excitedly

_________________________________________

Now the headcanon!

-clawdeen loves holding you by the waist as she talks to you in any place and time she feels so giddy holding you gently with one arm the warmth radiating from you both like a personal heater.

-whenever she's at your house she plays with your two tails and she likes to brush them and the blush on your cheeks when she puts her face in the softness of your fur motivates her to do it every time she comes over.

-you two are very cuddly behind closed doors and she's actually the little spoon because she likes to feel the soft purrs on her back as you hold her close by her middle.

(I'm gonna pretend you can purr hehe)

-Clawdeen loves it when you wear something of hers, since she's a wolf she liked the idea that this is one of her ways to mark you as hers and that no one will try to get with you,if someone tries to get with you they are screwed

-you also like when she wears your clothes just like Clawdeen you think that your scent on her will make idiots leave her alone before YOU tear them a new one.

- kissing is her favorite,the way your lips and her's fit so well with yours,the smell of your fruit flavor lip gloss and hers that mix together to make a new color when you part ways, ughh yes you should kiss her all the time.

-she really likes your human form you look so cute and the way you get slightly shorter than your monster form is actually too adorable

-Clawdeen will often make you two matching outfits, some are suits or dresses whichever you want to match with she's down to do anything for her muse.

-speaking of muses you are hers she's always making outfits inspired by you and your background every pattern every style it always seems she has you in mind throughout the process

-dates are going to the mall, parks, the boovies and just hanging out. Who knows maybe you'll take her to a parking lot and chill with some snacks and music playing (a make out will happen she can't help it you're just so pretty!!)

-Did I mention Clawdeen loves to pet your fluffy ears? Oh and she loves it when you do it to her too, just gently caress them with your soft hand and she's melting

-she spoils you but not in a buying you expensive things, no she remembers the candy's and chips you like and gives you a cute basket of them every few months and since the candy you like isn't expensive she's just buying you one and brings it to school for you to munch on in class.

-but on occasions like your birthday, anniversary valentines day and Christmas she'll get you a specific jewelry for the both of you to adorn, she'll make a romantic dinner and after it she'll hand you the box smilling wide and proud she got her muse something so precious and beautiful just like you..well the jewle almost matches your beauty but your prettier

-the two of you definitely have fashion shows in your room that end up becoming karaoke and just jumping up and down singing your heart out and dancing to a slow romantic holding you close and giving you neck kisses that make you giggle in delight.

-sometimes you'll turn into a fox and lay on her lap just for the fun of it and she pets you while she sketches in her sketch book with a content smile.

__________________________________________

That's all I got for now, thanks for the request I made this rather quickly is surprised with myself (^v^)

And I genuinely don't know if this is the right way to do headcanon. Sorry if it's not correct.

[hugs2doie]

say it, ditto.

pairing: non!idol!jisung x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of kissing but not an actual describing scene.

nini’s notes: wohoo another jwi drabble, rhanks to the anon who requested rhis :3

resting his head on your shoulder attempting to sleep when the lesson got too boring, knowing that you’d put your bag on your desk so the teacher won’t notice him, it’s a friends thing to do, sure.

sharing an small umbrella, clinging onto him so you wouldn’t get wet and him wrapping an arm around you is just your friend taking care of you, of course.

hands brushing against while walking together, cuddling with you on your couch, sharing his lunch with you, feeding and taking care of you when you needed it, giving you heart eyes: those were things only friends did, right?

staring at your lips, just normal friends activities, yeah?

you have known jisung ever since you were young, you knew him way too well, and you also knew that he could barely hide anything from you.

but sometimes your friendship relationship would get complicated. he gave you a smile today, yes, but did he like you the same way you liked him?

you had enough with this back-and-fourth thing; with seasons passing and you acting like lovers, but never labeling anything or even talking about it, that your other friends were confused too, it was like a damn riddle and it was like trying to find the exit in a huge maze.

which is why you gathered the courage to ask him something today.

“sung,” you called him as you played with his hair, his head currently on your lap as he was watching a movie with you. well, watching might not be the word since he was playing with his phone since apparently the movie was “too boring” for him.

to be honest, the movie wasn’t even interesting. it was about two friends liking each other, but even though they knew it, they wouldn’t confess.

“that’s stupid,” you thought to yourself, even though the plot was sounding oddly familiar.

“hm?” he said glancing up at you and reaching to the table to put his phone down before going back to resting his head on your lap.

“do you want somebody, ji?” you asked, eyes focusing on the movie playing in front of you, even though your mind wasn’t focusing on that, you just couldn’t bring yourself to look at jisung.

he bit his lip and looked away for a second. “i do.” he answered after a little while, now looking up at you again and giving you those big soft eyes, smiling when he realised you had stopped playing with his hair.

your eyes finally found his, and of course, he already looking at you.

the voices of the background characters on the movie were now starting to get fainted, the only sound jisung could hear was his jacket getting grabbed by you to pull him in and lean down to kiss him.

you got nothing to lose, after all.

[ilwonuu]

heyyyyy since ur requests r open.. I THOUGHTTT that it would really be cool if u did this reference with wonwoo😭😭 i’ve been thinking about it since 2023 when i saw that reel..bye..😭😘

YES ISNSHSHS THANK YOU FOR RHIS. wonwoo is my man i love him so bad. i hope u enjoy<3

࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪falling for it. j.wonwoo

summary- you best friend is trying to show you how to see if someone is a fuck boy. you already fell for the fuck boy right infront of you.

warnings- fluff, slight flirting

authors note- something kinda cute??? idek but i hope u enjoyed 💖💖TELL IF I SHOULD WRITE SOMETHING LONGER

you’re currently in the arms of your close friend. him being dangerously close to you. causing your heart to beat faster then usual. something you should be used to at this point.

he’s holding you in his arms softly. taking to you with his deep voice. “i have a feeling you’re not listening.” he says looking down at you. you shake your head. “i’m listening sorry. got uh distracted.”

more like fucking horny. he looks this good and you get to be this close to him. you have already fell for the trap he is trying to help you not fall in. his broad shoulders, the way his shirt is slightly tight against his chest. this man is gonna be the death of you.

“you got distracted again.” he laughs at you. “listen y/n.” he says trying to sound serious. he’s talking about how to not fall for it again.

you already happy with the fact you have him this close to you. you already fell for the trap. you wanted him so bad.

hes looking down at you smirking slightly to himself. he definitely knows what he does to you. “you’re a bad listener.” he rolls his eyes at you. “not true!” you protest to him. he just ignores your words. “pay attention.”

you really try to focus this time. failing once again. you will never be able to focus.

[changisworld]

Okay. Hear me out. Shower with skz🥹

-🦇

BBCBCDNANANABABAJnn THIS IS A NEED, THANK THE HEAVENS THAT 🦇 IS REAL TO PUT RHIS IN OUR HEADS

main masterlist here

->I feel as if Seungmin, felix, hyunjin & maybe chan?? would shower with you just simply for fun, probably also half for convenience cuz saves time duh but if they get to see you naked who tf are they to pass on the opportunity???

-> wash your hair for you & especially seungmin probably begs for you to wash his hair back for him, even kneeling down if he has to just so you’re forced to do it(you were never not gonna do it for him he’s too cute to say no to)

-> I can imagine felix n also Seungmin complaining about how you alwyas have the shower on too hot for their liking…as if it’s meant to be THEIR SHOWER to begin with, you turn the knob that tiny bit higher just to watch them squeal hehehe

->DEFINITELY KISSES IN RHE SHOWEEEBEBEH they don’t miss the chance to ogle over you.. obviously… but more often than not, they don’t wanna do anything too crazy in the shower, simply because knowing them, especially hyunjin, would slip or chan would somehow drop a shampoo bottle at the worst moment n hit one of you guys in the foot just ruining the moment😭 they’d probably rather give you a reason to just get back in the shower straight after you both finish n end up in the bedroom, just to get sweaty again after their hard ons are just too much.

->ON THE ORHER HAND, LEEKNOW, HAN, JEONGIN N CHANGBIN ARE A DIFFERENT CASE.

->they know your own shower routine at this point n they always make sure to follow in not too long behind yiu(especially leeknow) & he tries to act so casual, just murmuring about how he just wants to shower but you ‘stole it’ just to end up having you pressed against the cold wall five minutes later

-> or jisung & also binnie whining at you because you aren’t instantly giving their boner any attention, because it’s ‘your fault you look this good all soapy’ & as they keep looking at you, bottom lip in a pout, they move their hips just enough to have their cock rubbing against your leg, making you fold not too long later(in more ways than one hehehe)

->INNIE IS THE WORST FOR SHOWERING ISTG!!! just teases you the entire time, sliding his fingers through your inner thighs as he helps you wash your body, purposely grazing his fingers through your folds ever-so-often, making you wince & him give you his pretty cheeky smile.

->as you turn your back to him to let him put the shampoo or conditioner in your hair, he is pushing on your upper back, urging you to bend over just a tinnyyy bit more. “cmon, it’s technically completely mess free because we will be getting rid of any cum or sweat as it comes!” he pouts, purposely leaving a pun in his sentence.

[myown-worstenemy-2003]

Play It Again, Play It Again, Play It Again

A/N: Part two of the mini-series! As always I hope you enjoy it as much I did writing it! I love seeing feedback! And feel free to request something! Let me know any feedback that you have! If you feel up to it send me a request and I will do my best to give it justice!

Summary: You're invited to a party by one of your new friends. Let's see how the night ends.

Word Count: 1963

It had been a couple of months since you had broke things off with Billy. Since that you've kind of tried to keep to yourself but everyone needs someone to talk to, especially to make it around here.

What made it better was that you met a couple of mothers when you would pick up Rhiannon from daycare, and started your own friend group. All of them were around your age and their kids were already playing with Rhiannon during daycare anyway. Nancy had a brown-eyed shaggy-haired boy named Theodore. Piper had a little curly-head girl named Rosemary. And then there is Robin, she doesn't have any children but she comes and picks up Theo or Rosie every now and then, even both sometimes.

It was nice that you and Rhiannon had some friends in town finally. Especially Rhiannon, you didn't want her to be lonely.

But at this particular moment you weren't sure if you were happy that you had friends anymore.

"Come on (Y/N)! You never leave the house unless it's work or taking Rhiannon somewhere! You need to have fun sometimes!" Robin tried to convince you.

"Yeah, I'm sure I can tell you what you do everyday. Get up, get Rhi and you ready, take her to daycare, go to work, pick up Rhi, have dinner and then go to bed," Nancy said watching the kids play on the playground.

You sigh, because she was right. You don't do anything fun that doesn't surround Rhiannon.

"Who's gonna watch Rhi though? I can't really afford a babysitter right now. I can barely afford daycare as it is."

"Piper's mom is going to watch the kids, I'm sure she won't mind watching Rhiannon," Nancy suggested and Piper nodded.

"I don't know guys," you hesitated, parties have never been your thing. The last time you were at a party that's when Rhiannon was conceived and here you are.

"(Y/N), you are 24. We are never gonna be this young ever again. Just this once and if you don't like it, you can leave and we'll never ask again," Piper chimes in, sitting on the bench next to you with a book on her lap that she hasn't touch since she got here, "We all need to let loose every once and a while."

The girls nodded, you groaned, "Fine. I'll go but only for two hours. That's it."

"That'll work! You'll have fun, I promise!" Robin said excitedly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were on your way to the party. Riding with a friend from work. Dressed in something more warm and comfortable than it was cute since #1 it was October and it was cold during the nights; #2 you weren't really looking for anything right now since your thing since Billy. You were just there to hang out with friends and maybe meet some new people.

As you approached you noticed that there were a lot of trucks and some haybales, and everyone else was parked on the other side of the road. You didn't even think about bringing your own chair. You figured that there was going to be enough going on that you might not need it. But past you was too ambitions compared to present you so was full of nervous at the moment.

How the hell did you do this when you were in college?

Jessica put the car into park and got out and you followed suit.

"Hey I'll see you around? Around 1?" Jessica said with a smile. You nodded and smiled back.

You stood outside of the car for a second to catch your breath.

"It's all good. Everything will be okay. Just three hours. Yeah, only three hours and then you can go home," you hyped yourself up. You brushed yourself off (like you had dirt on you) and headed toward the crowd of people gathering around the bonfire.

"There she is! I wasn't sure you were going to show!" Robin said as she walked up to you and hugged you, "Here's the rest of the gang for you to meet!"

"Everyone this is (Y/N)! Be on your best behavior!" she said, jokingly, you heard some laughing and a, 'Booooo'.

"This here is Vickie, she's my girl," Robin introduced you to a ginger with freckles. You shook her hand, "Nice to meet ya."

"You know Nancy," Robin said and you hugged her as she came up. There was a nervous looking man behind her with brown hair, Robin said, "This is her husband, Jonathan. Theo looks like him."

"I can see it," you smiled and shook his hand too. Piper came up next, "I'm so glad that you made it! We want you to have fun too."

"Thanks, it's good so far," you smiled.

"Oh yeah!" she said, she turned to look behind her, "This is my husband, Eddie. It's where Rosie gets the curly hair from."

"Hey there, I'm Eddie, like she said, nice to meet you," Eddie said, he had long wild curly hair with a denim vest over his leather jacket.

"I like your pins. Iron Maiden is the best," you said as you looked at his pins.

Eddie literally beamed, "Thank you! I collect them from music stores. These are my favorites."

"Really cool!"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Dude, have you met (Y/N)? She's awesome!" Eddie said to Steve.

"Is this another fantasy person that I'm supposed to learn?" Steve asked. Eddie looked at him with a weird face, "No, she's real man. She's friends with Piper and the others. She over there."

Eddie pointed to where a girl was sitting by herself on the tailgate of Piper's truck. Her legs swinging as she watched the fire crackle.

"She's got to have a boyfriend here. No way that she doesn't," Steve said, looking around for someone that was looking for her, "Is she Joe's girlfriend?"

"No man, Piper said that she's single. Not really looking for anything at the moment, just new friends," Eddie explained, "Buuuuut...you should try and make more than friends."

"I can make friends with her," Steve nodded and walked toward you.

"Good job babe," Piper said as she came up next to Eddie and fist bumped him and watched what was about to happen.

Steve walked up, "Hey, this seat taken?"

You looked over to the new voice.

Not going to lie, he's pretty cute.

You smiled, "Not at all," you slid over to make sure that he has enough room to sit.

"My name's Steve," he said as he sat down, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you said smiling.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

God how am I already falling in love with this woman already?

"Honestly, I love new wave music! The Cure is probably my favorite from the bunch as of right now, but that changes from month to month," you said, talking to Steve.

You've been talking to Steve for what felt ten minutes but it's actually been hour. You could do this all night.

"You know, I think that-" Steve started but then a familiar song came on the speakers and you're eyes lit up, and you jumped off the tailgate, cutting him off.

"This is my song! I've been listenin' to the radio all night long, hopin' that it would come on and here it is!"

You hold out your hand, "C'mon, come dance with me."

Before Steve could say anything, you grabbed his hand and dragged him up. He tried keeping up with you but he was too distracted by you to keep up. You had a carefree smile on your face and your body was moving in ways that was very bad for his groin area in public.

As the song came to an end, you kissed him on the cheek, "Thank you for dancin' with me."

"Play it again!" Steve yelled to see if someone could rewind the tape and start it over again so he could gain the courage to ask you out.

You smiled and yelled, "Play it again! Play it again!"

You both laughed and then heard the next song play, looking at each other almost in a trance.

"I-" Steve started to say but you looked down at your watch, "I had a lot of fun tonight Steve but I'm afraid that I have to go."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, not really wanting you to leave just yet but understanding.

"Yeah, I gotta check on my-" you hesitated, "my pet. She's not used to being alone this late."

"I understand. Let me walk you to your car?" Steve offered.

"I actually rode here with one of my coworkers. So I guess I need to find her."

"I'll help you, who is it?"

"Jessica Cooley," you answered starting to look around for her.

"Jessica? She left already. Left with Matt Hargrave about an hour ago."

"What? You're kiddin'. I guess I'll ask someone else for a ride," you said a little upset.

"I can take you home," Steve offered, really hoping that you would take him up on the offer.

"Are you sure? I don't want to burden you. I can just have Piper or someone take me home," you said hesitant because you didn't know him, but you had a feeling that you could trust him.

"I'm sure. Come on, let's get you home."

You smiled, "Okay thank you."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were looking out the window, thinking about something to start a conversation but you couldn't think of anything that wouldn't be considered small talk or just bad in general.

That was when Steve turned on the radio and you started singing along to (I've Had) The Time Of My Life.

It didn't take too long to get to your house, maybe three songs if you remember correctly, but for some reason it felt like it was taking a little longer than usual. And you weren't upset by it at all. It had been five songs already and you sang along to every song that had came on the radio.

But it was only when you getting ready to pull on your street was when Steve started to scan the radio, almost frantically.

"This is me," you said and Steve pulled into the driveway and put the car in park.

"Thank you for the ride home, I really appreciate it. I don't have cash on me right now, but I can run in and get some for gas?"

"It's no trouble at all. I don't want money. But if you really want to pay me back, let me take you out on a date?" Steve asked wearing a charming but hopeful smile on his face.

You smiled, "I would like that."

He smiled, "Sounds great, how Friday? Dinner and a movie?"

You nodded your head, "I would love that."

"Cool, let me walk you to the do-," Steve said and just as he said that, your song came on the radio.

"No way! There is no way that this song would play twice in one night!" you exclaimed excitedly.

"Come dance with," you said as you got out of the car. He followed you and started dancing in the headlights.

It was like straight out of a movie. Everything was perfect, the lights, the song, the weather, and you.

As the song started to fade out, you got caught up in the passion of dancing and the feeling of it, you kissed Steve.

It was just like everything else, the kiss was perfect.

When you broke the kiss he looked at you and said, "I'm gonna call the DJ right now and get that song played again right now."

You threw your head back laughing, "Goodnight Steve, thank you for the perfect night."

He smiled, "You took the words right out of my mouth."

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 17

Hi, guys. Enjoy the new chapter :)

It is therefore only natural that the more powerful the dragon, the more powerful the signet its rider manifests. One should beware of a strong rider who bonds a smaller dragon, but even warier of the unbonded cadet, who will stop at nothing to seize a chance to bond.

—Major Afendra’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant

(Unauthorized Edition)

After sleeping in the crowded barracks for the last two months, it’s weird, and oddly decadent, to have my own room. I’ll never take the luxury of privacy for granted again.

I close my door behind me as I step into the hallway.

Violet’s door is to the right of mine and I see her limping towards me.

“Hi, there rider.” I greet her with a smile. “How is your leg?”

“Hi, Aelin.” She smiles back. “It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

“Good morning, neighbours.” I feel an arm around my shoulder.

“Hi, Liam.” I look up at him. His room is the one left of mine, and Ethan’s next to him. We are the only first-years who survived Threshing in our squad.

“Hi.” I hear Vi whispers and I can see a small blush? on her face.

Oh, my god. I love it!

“Are you okay, Vi? You’re face is a little red.” I say with a sly smile.

“Yes.” She glares at me and turns around when Rhiannon’s door, across the small hall from us, opens and we see Sawyer’s tall, lean frame come out. He runs his fingers through his hair, and when he sees us, his eyebrows rise and he freezes—his cheeks almost as red as his freckles.

“Good morning.” I grin.

“Guys.” He forces an awkward smile and walks off, headed toward the main hallway of the first-year dormitory.

Rhiannon walks out of her room and smiles as soon as she sees us. “No more breakfast duty?” She turns to Violet.

“I was told last night that all the less desirable duties were being handed off to the unbonded so our energy can be redirected for flight lessons.”

„One more reason for the unbonded to hate us,” Rhiannon mutters.

“It doesn’t matter. I think our dragons existence are already pisses them off.” I shrug.

„So, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Vi asks as we start down our hallway, passing a few other rooms before meeting up with the main corridor that leads to the rotunda. Have to say, the first-year rooms aren’t as spacious as the second-years’, but at least we all got ones with windows.

A grin curves her lips. “I felt like celebrating.” She darts a quick side-eye at her. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?”

We melt into the crowd moving toward the gathering hall. “Haven’t found anyone I want to celebrate with.”

“Really? Because I heard that you and a certain squad leader had a moment last night.”

She nearly stumbles over her feet.

“Come on, Vi. The entire quadrant was out there, and you don’t think someone saw you?” I roll my eyes.

„Who gives a shit if it’s frowned upon to be in a relationship with a superior officer? There’s no regulation, and it’s not like any of us is guaranteed to live through the day.” Rhiannon says.

“Solid points,” she admit. “But it’s…” she shakes her head, searching for the right words. “It’s not like that with us. I’d always hoped it would be, but when he kissed me—there was nothing there. Like. Nothing.”

“Well, that’s shitty to hear.” She hooks her arm through hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She sighs.

“I’m not.” I glance at them. “I never liked him. And he doesn’t support you, Vi. You deserve someone who sees you. Because you’re awesome.” I squeeze Vi’s hand.

“Thanks, I think.” She smiles at me with gratitude.

„Good morning, ladies. And Liam.” Ridoc forces his way through the crowd and slings an arm around Rhiannon and Vi’s shoulders as we enter the rotunda. “Or should I say, riders?”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction.

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees.

“It’s definitely better than dead. Where’s your relic?” Vi asks Ridoc as we pass through the columns of carved dragons and take the steps into commons.

“Right here.” His arm falls off her shoulders, and he shoves the sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown mark of a dragon silhouette on his upper arm. “You?”

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.”

“That will keep you safer if you’re ever separated from that massive dragon of yours.” His eyes dance. “I swear, I thought I was going to shit myself when I saw him on the field. What about yours, Rhi?”

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” she responds.

“You wound me.” He slaps his hand over his heart.

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there’s a smile on her face.

“And you Aelin? If it’s somewhere private than I’d like to volunteer to check it out. Just you, and me.” He winks at me.

“Nice try.” I laugh at him. “But I’ll pass.”

“Are you waiting for someone else?” Liam whispers in my ear.

“Shut up.” I elbow him in the ribs while I feel myself flush.

Before anyone can ask another question we move through commons and into the gathering hall, then make our way through the line for breakfast.

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in front of  me. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.” He says to Violet.

“Who?” I ask and look toward the counter. There’s a man behind it and he glares at Violet with hatred in his eyes. “Oh wow. What did you do to him?”

“I beat him during the challanges.” Vi turns to me. „And before Threshing he said that I better watch my back.”

“Hm. He really holds a grudge.” I say while we collect our breakfast. „But don’t worry, now you’re a rider with a badass dragon. Still… I can’t believe he’s this petty.”

„I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out for the good of the wing.” Vi says.

“You’re not!” I say firmly.

We head toward the Fourth Wing section and find a table with extra seats.

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts.

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench.

“Sorry, Sorrengail!” the other says over his shoulder as they find another table, leaving this one empty.

What the hell?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” I say as Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and I follow, putting our backs to the wall as we step over the bench and sit, setting our trays in front of us.

“Even weirder?” Liam remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing.

Following his line of sight, my eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take his seat.

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews.

Jack moves to another table—whose occupants won’t make room for him—and then finds a place two tables down.

“How the mighty have fallen, Ridoc notes, watching the same show I am, but there’s no satisfaction in watching Jack struggle. Feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered.

“Hey, Sorrengail,” the stocky girl from First Wing says with a tight smile as she walks past our table.

“Hi.” She wave awkwardly as she walks away, then turn to whisper to us. “She hasn’t spoken to me since I took one of her daggers in that challenge.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench across from us to sit, pushing up the sleeves of her tunic and revealing her rebellion relic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Sorrengail, are now about to be the most powerful rider in the quadrant. Anyone with common sense is going to be scared of you.”

I blink, is that what’s going on? I look around the hall and take note. Social groups have split up, and some of the cadets I would have considered threats are no longer sitting where they usually do.

“Which is why you’re now sitting with us?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised.

Quinn—the tall second-year—takes a seat next to Imogen, and Sawyer arrives, sitting on Rhiannon’s other side. Quinn tucks her blond curls behind her ears and brushes her bangs out of her eyes, her round cheeks rising as she smiles at something Imogen says. Have to admit, the hooped piercings that line the shells of both her ears are pretty awesome, and among her half dozen patches, it’s the dark-green one—the same color as her eyes—with two silhouettes that’s most intriguing. I should have studied up on what all the patches mean, but according to what I’ve heard, they change every year.

I’m personally a fan of the first ones we’ve been given. I had to sew the tail-shaped patch with the emblem for Fourth Wing and the centered number two with great care, being sure to only stitch the fabric of my corseted armor, since it’s not like any needle is going to penetrate the scales.

„You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before,” Imogen responds, then bites into a muffin.

“I usually sit with my girlfriend in Claw Section. Besides, no use getting to know you when most of you die,” Quinn adds, tucking her curls away again, just to have them spring forward. “No offense.”

“None taken?” Vi says.

Then Heaton and Emery, the only third-years in their squad, flank Imogen and Quinn on the bench across from us.

“Wow. Is it a squad meeting?” I ask while munching on an apple. “Liam, I think we stand out too much.”

“You’re right. Why don’t you sit with your own squad?” Imogen asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Because they like us more than you. Even though you are their squadmate.” I smile at her coldly. “We have every right to be here. If you have a problem with it then the challanges we’ll start over soon.”

She swallows and looks at her plate.

“Is it just me or is anyone else surprised that Barlowe bonded?” Ridoc questions. “Though from what I’ve heard, his Orange Scorpiontail is on the smaller side.”

“She is,” Quinn confirms. “Which is why he’s struggling this morning.”

“Don’t worry—I’m sure he’ll make up for his lack of social standing in other ways,” Rhiannon mutters, her gaze narrowing. “You have to have some protein, Vi. You can’t just survive on fruit.”

“It’s the only food I can be sure isn’t tampered with, especially with that guy behind the counter.” she peels an orange.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Imogen scrapes three pieces of sausage onto her plate. “She’s right. You’re going to need all your strength to ride, especially with a dragon as big as Tairn.”

I stare at the sausage. Imogen hates her just as much as me. Hell, she’s the one who broke her arm and ripped out her shoulder on assessment day.

“You can trust her,” Aon says, and I startle, almost dropping the apple.

“She hates us.”

“But she has changed.” He says and I can feel him pulling back.

No other explanation? Fine.

Vi starts to eat, and I focus on the conversation at the table again.

“What’s your signet?” Rhiannon asks Emery.

Air rushes down the table, rattling the glasses. Air manipulation. Got it.

“That’s epic.” Ridoc’s eyes widen. “How much air can you move?”

“None of your business.” He barely spares him a glance.

“Sorrengail, after class is out today, you’re mine,” Imogen says.

“I’m sorry?” She asks in surprise.

Her pale green eyes lock on her. “Meet me in the sparring gym.”

“I’m already working with her on sparring—” Rhiannon starts.

“Good. We can’t afford her to lose any challenges,” Imogen retorts. “But I’m going to help you with weights. We need to strengthen the muscles around your joints before challenges resume. That’s the only way you’ll survive.”

The hairs rise on the back of my neck. “And since when do you care about her survival?” This isn’t a squad thing. It can’t be. Not when she didn’t give a shit before.

“Since now,” she says, gripping her fork in her fist, but it’s the lightning-fast glance toward the dais at the end of the hall that gives her away. Her concern isn’t coming from the goodness of her heart. Something tells me it’s an order. “Squads are about to be condensed at morning formation. We’ll be down to two in every section,” she continues. “Aetos kept the highest number of his first-years alive—hence the patch—so he’ll be allowed to retain his squad, but we’ll probably gain a few when they strip the squads from those who weren’t as successful.” She glances at Liam and I.

As discreetly as I can, I look to my right, past the other Fourth Wing tables and to the dais where Xaden sits with his executive officer and the section leaders, including Garrick, whose shoulders look like they should take up at least two seats. It’s Garrick who looks my way first, his forehead lining with… What is that? Worry? Then he looks away. The only reason he’d be remotely worried—he knows something.

Imogen helping Violet. Violet bonded to Tairn. Ohh shit.

“Aon? Is Tairn and Sgaeyl are mates?”

“Yes. They have a bond.” He answers.

“Then Violet and Xaden are somehow connected too?” I have my suspicions.

“Yes. They have a bond through their dragons.” He answers. “But it’s not an emotional one, little one.” He adds silently.

Then it means Garrick knows Violet’s fate is tethered to Xaden’s.

My gaze snaps to Xaden, and my chest tightens. So. Freaking. Beautiful. Apparently my body doesn’t care that he’s as dangerous as they come in the quadrant, because heat rushes through my veins, flushing my skin.

He’s using a dagger to peel an apple, removing the rind in one long curl, and the blade continues its path as his eyes lift, locking with mine.

My whole head tingles.

Gods, is there any part of my body that doesn’t physically react to the sight of him?

He glances toward Imogen and back to me, and that’s all it takes for me to know for certain. He’s ordered her to help train Violet. Xaden Riorson is now in the business of keeping his mortal enemy alive.

…

A few hours later, after the squads are rearranged and the death roll is read, all the first-year riders in Fourth Wing stand in our newly issued flight leathers, waiting in front of our dragons on the flight field.

We were the smallest squad, it was logical to disband us. I don’t know why, but fortunately Liam, Ethan and I was assigned to Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second squad. It’s Violet’s squad. Our squad’s second- and third-years went into the same squad too. I don’t complain. I’m glad that we’re still together. So now it’s our first flight lesson as a member of a new squad.

The uniform is thicker than our usual one, with a full jacket I’ve buttoned over my dragon-scale armor. And unlike our regular uniforms, whatever we choose them to be, flight leathers bear no insignia besides our rank at our shoulder and any leadership designation. No names. No patches. Nothing that could give us away if we’re separated from our dragons behind enemy lines. Just a lot of sheaths for weapons.

I try not to think about possibly fighting in the war effort one day and focus on the organized chaos evolving on the flight field this morning. I can’t miss the way the other cadets look at Tairn or the wide berth the other dragons give him. Honestly, if I had those teeth bared at me, I’d back away, too.

„No you wouldn’t, because you didn’t. You stayed and defended your friend.” Aon’s voice fills my head as he stands next to Tairn, and I can tell from his tone there are places he’d rather be.

“Only because there was a lot going on at the moment,” I respond.

“I don’t think so. Now pay attention!” He ends the discussion.

I roll my eyes but focus on what Kaori is saying from the center of the field. His hand is up, using common lesser magic to project his voice so we can all hear.

God help us when Ridoc figures out how to do that. I bite back a smile, knowing he’ll find some way to annoy the shit out of every rider in the quadrant, not just his squad.

“…and at only ninety-two riders, you are our smallest class to date.”

My shoulders dip. “I thought a hundred and one were willing to bond, plus you and Tairn?”

“Willing doesn’t mean they found worthy riders,” Aon answers. “You’re worthy. At least I think you are, but you apparently don’t pay attention in class.” He chuffs and a warm puff of steam blasts the back of my neck.

“There are forty-one unbonded riders who would kill to be standing where you are,” Kaori continues. “And your dragons know that your bond is at its weakest point right now, so if you fall, if you fail, there’s a good chance your dragon might let you if it thinks the unbonded will be a better choice.”

“Comforting,” I mutter.

Aon makes a noise that reminds me of a scoff.

“Now, we’re going to mount, then follow a series of specific maneuvers your dragons already know. Your orders are simple today. Stay in your seat,” Kaori finishes. Then he turns and breaks into a sprint, racing the dozen feet toward his dragon’s foreleg and making the vertical climb to mount.

Just like the last obstacle on the Gauntlet.

I sprint up the same way and I navigate Aon’s spikes to find the seat. My tighs ache a little from yesterday, but it’s bearable. I grip the pommel. Okay, I’m ready.

Kaori’s dragon launches into the sky.

“Hold tight.”

I feel as Aon crouches a millisecond before he hurls us skyward. The wind tears at my eyes as my stomach falls away, and I risk holding on with one hand to lower my flight goggles. Immediate relief.

“We had to go third?” I ask Aon as we fly out of the canyon and higher into the mountain range. I get it now, why I didn’t see the dragons training often even though I’ve basically grown up at Basgiath. The only people around us are other riders.

“I only agreed to follow Smachd because his rider is your instructor. Tairn should be the first.”

“So you’re an in-front kind of guy. Good to know. Remind me to spend some time at temple so I can make multiple appeals to Dunne.” I keep my focus on Kaori, watching for when the maneuvers will start.

“The goddess of strength and war?” Aon clearly scoffs this time.

“What, dragons don’t think we need the gods on our side?” Shit, it’s cold up here. My gloved hands tighten on the pommel.

“Dragons pay no heed to your puny gods.”

Kaori banks right, and Aon follows suit, leading us into a steep dive down the face of one of the peaks. I clench with my legs to remain in the seat.

We go into another climb and even a near-spiral of a turn, and I can’t help but notice that he’s taking everything Kaori is doing and making it harder. The same as Tairn.

“Why did you make it harder?” I ask. “It’s our first flight lesson, I don’t want to fall off.”

“You won’t. I chose you, now trust me. Unless you’d rather be scraped off the glacier below like Gleann’s rider back there?”

I whip my head around to look, but all I see is Aon’s tail swinging, his massive spikes blocking the view.

“Don’t look.”

“We already lost a rider?” My throat knots.

“Gleann chose poorly. He never bonds strongly anyway.”

At least I can hold my seat. It’s not that bad.

As soon as I think this, I see Violet as he falls off from Tairn.

“Violet!” I shout without thinking.

“Don’t worry. Tairn will catch her.” Aon says.

“What? But I thought the dragons never catch the newly bonded riders.”

Then I see Tairn’s claws catch her. He climbs high, then tosses her again, his back rises to meet her falling bottom. I sigh with relief as she takes her seat. She’s safe.

“Worry about yourself, little one. You have a lot to learn. Leave your friend to Tairn.”

I try to concentrate, but I can’t help and notice as Violet falls again.

And again.

And again.

Shit. We have to figure something out.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ STEP ONE

tw. noncon, explicit descriptions of violence and murder, body horror, decapitation, dacryphilia, fear kink, objectification, threats, humiliation, blood, brief throw up scene, weapon play, choking, overstimulation, manipulation, physical harm, mask kink wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely friend whomst i cherish dearly ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning meeee!! i t was very fun to have a reason to write some grimy gross shit again and your big brain is the best mwUah this was so fun i hooopppee you enjoy it !!! kiSs kISS kiss and thankies to rhi for beta-ing <33

oikawa tooru x fem!reader x iwaizumi hajime

Crack, it pops. And squelch, squelch, crack.

The blurred spats of red-tinted light that fill the night sky blur until they seem to vanish, and the ache in your head becomes pressing enough to numb. Numb to the coldness of the dirt, the uncomfortable stickiness to your back and thighs, tingling down your feet. The stars - you know them to be stars though they don’t look it, bleeding out like lambs across a pitch black voidness - get blocked out when the movement comes back to your view.

And a dirty, wet hand lands against your cheek hard enough to knock your face to the side, stinging up and down your skin. You get another taste of the copper coating your tongue— and a deep, pinched wheeze has you spluttering on the floor as your lungs come back to life.

It’s so cold.

But the pressure building between your ears rings before it pops, and the deep, rough string of wordy promises comes back to you. You almost think the quiet behind them hurts more. There’s caked blood that clots your nose, as your body is ragdolled onto a lap. Better view of the sky. Better view of the off-human face that forces back into sight. It cracks, it pops. You barely breathe.

And wonder how you got here.

+

There’s something unpleasant about the way he words it. “Okay, don’t be a baby. How old are you? Didn’t we all agree to this?” You’re not prone to telling your friends no, but there’s a difference between gentle encouragement, and being an abstemious dick. “We just got here.” With a gentler smile, the blond’s girlfriend shoots you a little encouragement.

“If you really don’t like it, you can always step out, you know. These things are made more for silly jumpscares than actual panic.”

Your shoulders square a little higher to your ears when you hop off the bar of the fenced line. “I know,” you say, be it a little mumbled. The other couple in front of you, classmates, look back to give you the kind of look that would amuse. If shot at anyone else. Your hands bury into your jacket pockets as the last pinkish light of the day starts to dim, and you pick at the loose thread in there. You aren’t the biggest baby you have ever been, but you’re first to admit you’re no brave soldier. You’re jumpish, cowardly when it comes down to the wire, and when presented with a choice, you’d rather go. Given enough incentive, you’ll run through in a dash and waste twenty dollars.

But your ride currently is nuzzled into the shirt of her brand-new boyfriend. It won’t be so bad. These things are usually too quick to get your money’s worth anyway. The corn reaches high though, enough to hide everything from view as the end of the line comes closer and closer, and distant screams prompt eager giggles and glances. Yeah, these kinds of things have never been your strongest suit. A group of teens behind you engages in happy chatter as you softly tap a rhythm into the half-muddy loam, glancing between your friends very briefly. Both couples glomp into one another in the wait, happy to walk the entire way in little pairs. Happy to hurry on without you too if push comes to shove, probably.

Prey instinct.

Maybe someone other than you will get scared enough to run, and maybe that will be distraction enough to forget about you and your inevitable anxiety. You take a deep breath, and let the fresh countryside air fill up your lungs- lovely, mixed with wisps of smoke machine and lingering scent of manure. Instead of psyching yourself out too much, listening to yet another trail of screams that grow further and further away, you turn to watch one of the two barely legal workers as the walky scratches obnoxiously.

“Tchhhk-we ca -end in —ther group.” The mousey looking kid has straggly hair that is tied in a low pony under an obnoxious red and yellow theme park cap, and looks about as pumped as you feel waving in the first two of your party down the correct path into the maze.

He gives an unenthusiastic spiel, and then swings open the gate before pressing a few buttons. “Two incoming.”

“Yup— tchh- also have so- lag on our—ne. Are y- changi— t- channel?”

Almost instantly as the couple disappears around a corner, you hear a few high pitched screams and giggles join the ones in the distance, and you cross your arms over your chest. Even though you try, your heart rate automatically rises when another scream rings out. The teen talks into his device for a moment again, and you brace yourself as you friends line up at the crooked little gate. After a second or so, a slight pinch moves between the teen’s brows, and he eyes leave his co-worker to stare into the field.

“-Saw s-eone… w-kin- around… premise. Pl—e advise.” The crackle of the device is loud enough to reach you, before another couple of screams cuts it off.

The screams are loud, high pitched and uncomfortable. They set hairs on the back of your neck up on end. “Huh.” As the dyed blond gives a wave, he aims himself at your group and says, “sorry, but you have to wait a few more minutes.” His little mousy walk from behind the stand annoys you more than it probably should. But you can’t help it. You want to be done with this, sooner rather than later. “Gimme five.” The kid gives his co-worker a quick mumble, before he disappears down into the one neat path between the corn, and you wait again.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your heart beats steadily, but hard. Enough to have you wanting to nervously pace the small area of path, but choosing against it after all. The screams are fainter now, further away. Fuck this shit. As the sky lowers into an off-red sort of color, you finally speak up. Your roommate’s pretty eyes find yours. “Hey, can I walk along with you guys actually? I really… really don’t like this sort of stuff.” The noirette barely gives the accompanying blond a look, before letting out a little sigh.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late anyway. We can head home quicker that way.” Her boyfriend doesn’t bother to conceal the way he rolls his eyes at you, but doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything either. Just wrap your arms around yourself and pull your sweater closer to your body. Only a few minutes pass where you all stand in silence, and the people behind joke among each other.

The other teen perched on the entrance eventually gives your group a little nod, and opens the shabby gate with the most monotone greeting. “Welcome to the Night Shift, Miyagi’s scariest paranormal experience. Please stay on the path and refrain from touching our ghosts.” His half-lidded expression and dead-tired wave of the arm almost make you want to smile, if only in understanding. But instead you shuffle along the damp path. “Enjoy.”

The two in front of you start off a liberal, bouncy pace, as your roomie prattles on, and your eyes scan the long path of corn before you. It sways softly in the wind, and the shade it casts is awfully cold. The rattling sound of leaves is the least of your worries though, trying to keep up with your friends. Your heart pounds in your chest, because above anything, it’s the quiet anticipation before the scare that gets to you. The steps get closer and closer to the first corner, and you know. You know how this stuff goes. But Mina gives a little glance back as her long hair sways along her back, ready to encourage you.

A jerk has you all skittering back. Mina and your screams sound in harmony in the cooling night. The pale white face that jumps out at the three of you is a gaunt, gross version of some kind of thready zombie— and makes an awful scratchy sound. “Give your souls. Give your souls.”

Its closeness to your face is enough to make you stumble, ignoring the laughs. But the ghost doesn’t immediately leave, instead crowding you for long enough to have you covering your ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. The rapid pounding of your blood reaches your cheeks. You hate this stuff, from the ache of your chest to the uncomfortable closeness, and you try to calm down.

The ghost has you almost slinking into the corn to escape, before you can finally walk on.

Your friends are almost at the next turn already, and it feels to get darker by the second. Mina has her arm clamped in her boyfriend’s arm, whose smug grin flashes when you hurry on. “Ty, wait! Guys! This isn’t funny-” your voice fails you almost as soon as they reach the next corner way before you do, and disappear from view, “come on, please?” The scream that follows only has you hesitating more, feet slowing as you stand in the now-almost completely dark field. “Guys, this isn’t funny! Wait for me!” you try again, and come to a halt before even the next turn.

All of this is so fucking stupid. If you weren’t such a baby, maybe you’d be unbothered by this turn of events. You even predicted it, didn’t you? Your eyes sting, both from the adjustment of light, and the adrenaline pumps through you— before you set another few steps.

It can’t be that far. It can’t be that scary. It’s just stupid employees in masks. A scream that must be Mina’s rings out further along than you hoped they’d be- and has you balling your fists. If only you can get past, maybe you can catch up to them.

Either way, you’ll have to face more ghouls before the night is over.

And—

Crack.

A scream, behind you.

Your feet fail to start, and goosebumps raise all the way up your legs and back. There’s a whole myriad of noise, a loud bubble of screams that sounds much too close for comfort. They squeal and cry out for a painfully long few seconds. Long enough to push past rational thought before it goes near-quiet again.

And your heart patters on in your throat.

There’s a range of sounds you prepare yourself to hear when you go to any sort of horror experience. The dull, repeated thump, and the long sort of moan— that sounds out above the wind, isn’t really one of them. The cold climbs up your arms and chest before you can gather yourself. The moan isn’t like anything you associate with a ghost. It’s low and groany and continues for a long time, like a wounded animal— and lasts only until a heavy noise snuffs out the plea.

And - the instinctual part of your mind tells you to hide.

It’s gone dark. It’s gone quiet.

If Mina hasn’t made it to the end yet, you can’t hear her. 

Ever so slowly, your thoughts start up again, as you keep your ears wide open for any sound at all. There’s only the soft fluttering of the wind playing through the leaves. Before, as if under the breath of something larger, the sound of scraping leaves against clothes and the nervous rustling of someone moving through the field to your left makes you hold your breath. Your hands move over your mouth to clamp down the stuttered sound of your breathing.

You don’t know why, but it’s something in the air. The irregular noise, the lack of any other sound, and you staring into the darkness… screams at you. An animalistic feeling of threat, whispers that something is wrong. Your hands shake too hard to control. After a little bit of a pause, the noise returns. It’s a second of struggle, before another dying murmur sounds out, louder, closer, and then more shoving. More hacking. Your lungs feel like they’re squeezed too narrow, and your anxiety doesn’t allow for any other thoughts than a prey’s panic.

The nervous rustling gets louder and louder by the second.

Can’t you just step out of the experience? You don’t want to do this anymore— the childish part of your brain begs, and though you want to, you can’t make yourself move. Your lips stay tightly shut. The rustle to your left takes a more rapid pace, before it finally, finally grows a bit quieter again, and you manage to take a breath- pinched and wheezy.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Run.

Your ribcage aches under the pressure of your heart.

Only seconds before the noise would turn the corner, you find yourself stepping back and squeezing yourself between the stalks of corn, shaky hands grabbing and pushing yourself to hide.

Far enough to blot out the last bit of light of the evening, and have you squeezing yourself back until you’re a few feet from the path. You can’t see much, but the darkness adjusts quickly. Then, it’s quiet. The fine hair on your arms stands upright as soft taps get closer, and closer, and closer. And the corn doesn’t feel like enough of a shield.

Another scream comes from the way your friends ran off— girly, shrill and true— it lasts barely a second, but echoes for longer.

… Mina. It’s quiet.

Whatever stupid game is being played, you suddenly decide you want no part in it, and the cold wind ruffling the blades above your head feels like the only disguise for you and your anxious breaths. The footsteps reach, and slowly move past as the air gets stuck in your throat. You’re no fighting champion, and yet, your first instinct is to squeeze your fists tighter.

Only a dark figure can be made out from where you’re hidden, but the head is white, some kind of ghoulish looking mask. Ghost like, if not for the black stitches and blood. The presence is more pressing— it grates with each step. For a tiny moment, the figure stops in his tracks to scan around, and it gives you the flash you need to see that the thumping is caused by the heavy metal tool he periodically swings out and taps onto the floor.

It’s like an elongated butcher’s knife, wide and coated with glittering, royal red that drips down the pristine edge of the blade. Carrying the thick smell of copper behind him. And you’re freaked out enough to conclude it looks real. It can’t— can’t possibly be.

As soon as he passes you for enough time for you to steady your heartbeat, you sneak out of your hiding spot— before you hurry back down the way you came. Your every step feels too loud, and though you try to make sense of what you’re feeling, it comes out in a wobbly line of wetness along your eyeline. With another few step you make it around the corner and—

falter in your step.

There’s blood everywhere. Hands, throat, the huge gash in between the neck and shoulder that reveals flesh and tissue and bone, and oozes a vile smell of blood unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It’s all encompassing. The previously scary ghost is reduced to nothing more than a sad heap of fleshy canvas for the layer of blood that pools around them.

You can’t think. Can’t breathe.

Blood, blood, there’s so much blood everywhere.

On your shoes, on their ghouly face, on your hands as you kneel down and find it disturbingly warm and sticky and real. The feeling of dry heaving takes over you, and you stand with trembling- everything.

Your heart pounds. Eyes are blurry and make everything a little hard to navigate. You want out of this stupid fucking game. It wasn’t fun to begin with, and it definitely isn’t now. Out, out, all you want is out. This is a nightmare, or the worst practical joke ever. You wipe your involuntary tears with a shaky hand as you walk, only to find yourself letting out a squeak when the red gets onto your face. You rub your cheek onto your shoulder, speeding up— and barely allows for wheezy, heavy breaths of air.

By the time you get back to the gate, you’re almost blinded by your tears. But even your tears can’t hide the growing terror that remains. The group of teens never made it into the path. They lay clumped in a mess of bodies and blood, one of them hanging over the posts with blank, dead eyes- and a horrifying wound that nearly severs his head from his neck. Everything is covered in blood, from the ground, to the clothes, faces, the neat red-yellow uniform- it all has soaked and turned a dirty, off-maroon color that seems to fit the smell emanating from the scene.

You can’t help it, you heave over onto your knees and nothing but some pure acid comes out as you try to look around. This is real. Real. It can’t be, but it is.

Your choked noises of panic ring through your ears wiping your mouth on your sleeve, along with a loud buzzing that goes back and forth, back and forth, back and forth when-

The footsteps suddenly have you turning around, and screaming. The man’s here. You scramble up and jump onto the wooden fence to swing your leg over, but a heavy hand grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you back as you yelp out loud, and grab at his wrists.

“Let me go! Let go!” Your scalp feels like it’s tearing apart with the force when you land onto the cold floor, and the ghoul’s face comes to hover over yours— your tears don’t allow for proper breaths as you cling onto his arm and dig your nails in. “I wanna go home~” your cried, pathetic whimper is all that comes out as you stare, and in the pits of the blacked out eyes, olive irises stare back.

The man raises his other hand, and everything goes black.

+

When you come to, there’s an awful stench that you taste more than smell. You’re so dizzy, and your eyes blot with black clouds everywhere you look— for much too long. Your nose clogged with thick coats of blood hurts, as you roll onto your belly with a groan and cough against the strained pressure.

Fuck, everything hurts.

There’s a bubble of noise around your head that pops in and out of focus each time you blink, and breathe. Crack, it pops. And squelch, squelch, crack. You try to raise yourself off from the cold, damp floor, but a heavy shove to your side has you landing on your sore shoulder, and staring up at the sky with shallow gasps. A hand slaps your face sideways hard, you’re heaved up, and suddenly everything floods back to you. The blood. You try again to right yourself, and your head spins as you try to shake off the cotton that’s filling your head and pushing on your brain.

You’re aching, and your mouth is full of blood.

It’s only when you try to focus on your environment that you manage to make out the muffled crying of a woman — and your head snaps up. Mina’s bound, gagged, and she’s got mascara tracks all down her face and cheeks, and her hands lay uselessly on her lap. Dripping with blood. It’s only after much too long that you notice that the figure that’s moving in your periphery is landing a huge axe over and over again into what’s left … of a human skull.

Blond hair is matted together with clots of blood, and it looks more like a soup than a head. The soft crack and squelch as the axe is pulled out of the floor has you crying out.

Oh god. You wish you were dead.

The figure has a black mask covering most of his face, and yet, you feel like you can see the smile between the narrow slits as he turns to you. The man leans into the handle of his blood soaked axe with all the weight of his tall but solid body. “Two little doves, one gets caught. One tries to fly, the other gets got.” Besides the ring of black around his eyes, you can’t see anything. Your lip wobbles as you breathe, and stare.

“It’s a nursery rhyme. Fits, don’t you think?” His mouth is just barely visible under the forked plate that covers it, and pink lips curl up at the ends. “I know movies teach you to expect a lot of dramatics, but that’s all the drama you’re going to get from me, don’t worry.” He noisily pulls up his nose, before crouching down before you. “I’m Tooru, that’s Iwa. What’s your name?”

At the mention of a second name, you turn over your shoulder to see the figure of the man that caught you— white mask splattered with drying blood, crouched much too close behind you. Your voice dies in your throat, but a soft whimper still comes out. You can’t help it. Cold shivers run up your spine and make your entire body feel wooden.

“Tch.” Tooru gets up to lift the axe high above your head, and then brings it down towards you a few times. “Come on, don’t be like that.” He leans down to grab your roommate’s face, and shakes her with a glance towards you. “I already know this is Mina. Now you tell me yours.” Your nod is quick, and you breathe out your answer just as quickly as he comes back over to you, now scraping the sharp blade along your jaw. “Good girl.”

“Now you’ll be happy to know that you two were the finalists of our little game. Con-gra-tula-tions.” His sing-songy chant sets your skin on end. He stares at you with thinly veiled expectation, and you take a shuddered breath through your bloody nose.

“Thank you,” your voice is barely a mousy squeak.

And Tooru’s laugh comes out almost instantly, cheerfully rocking onto the back of his heels. Just a second, before he stands up again, long legs towering his shape above you. “Sadly enough there can be only one winner. So,” he pauses, eyes glittering with too much mirth, “Iwa, if you would.” The man who’s been sat basically glued to your backside for the whole time gets up to pet his hand over your hair a few times, before stepping over to Mina in silence.

“Wait, wait…” His butcher’s knife comes to rest on her shoulder as she cries the same pinched, pathetic patterns as you do. Tears and spit drenching into the gag in her mouth. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Shhh shh shh,” the dark masked one chants again, and his axe comes to pinch into your neck too, nicking the soft side of your throat with a sharp sting. “Here’s the question. Who is… the one that has to die?” He pushes the blade harder into your skin. “And you better answer, because Iwa likes killing pretty girls. I can’t guarantee what will happen if you think too long.”

“Wait…” you ask, looking into the panic filled eyes of the girl before you. You can see every thought, every regret in her face. “Wait, wait, please. I…”

“Three-”

“Wait!” you squeak now, eyes shifting between both men. “I can’t-”

“Two-” He mockingly moves the axe along your shoulder like a golfer, and your panic blossoms onto your tongue. “One.”

“Me,” you cry out instinctively, vocal chords aching. “Me, kill me.”

It stays quiet for what feels like an eternity, before Tooru lets out a soft chuckle. “Iwa’s right. You are cute. A sweet, little thing, aren’t you.” Then the other guy moves too quick for someone his size, and his weapon glides with one heavy swing right under her jawline in slow motion. The glittering edge of the knife in the moonlight arcs almost beautifully. Slicing through your former friend’s neck with a clean thwop, not enough resistance, before blood splatters on you, on him, on everything.

Her head falls before her body does, with a dull thump that sears into your brain.

And you-

Everything blanks.

You think you scream, but the buzzing and shaking is too loud to make out anything. All you know is that your crying gets worse, and you bury your face into your knees with a sob. Your thoughts are a wiry, tangled ball of terror that comes out in faint pants only, and shaky fingers that curl around your knees. The axe drops to your side before two hands land on your head and slide down to yank you back up to face him, and Tooru’s lips get close enough to you to feel the puff of air on your face. “Shhh, doll. It’s alright now. You did so well.”

“You talk too much,” the more gravelly tone of the other man hits your psyche like a shovel, and has you sobbing into the soft touches along your cheeks.

“I’m setting the mood, Iwa-chan.”

The white masked man steps over the body to your side much too casually, before kneeling down beside you. “Set it in silence for once.” To your horror, his eye contact doesn't wane when you cry harder. In fact, he seems to think for a second, before grabbing your arm in his heavy, warm palm and pulling you closer. “C’mere. You’re gonna be good. Okay?”

“I- I,” you stutter, and pull up your snotty, wet nose again, before he leans in to slide his head into the crook of your neck, and moves the mask up a few inches. Only to press a few kisses along the bare skin, and up to your jaw. If you weren’t so mortified, maybe you’d fight. If you weren’t so shell-shocked, you’d take the weapon to your side and swing it around until it stops.

But his low, impatient grunt against your pulse has you going quieter. “You’re going to be good.” It isn’t a question. “Understood?”

“Yes…” It tastes wrong in your mouth, like the bloody taste that slides from your nose to your mouth, and everything that’s gotten onto your shirt, shorts, on every extremity now. After another second of raising your heartbeat so much you’re halfway to passing out, he finally moves— to press his lips against yours for a second, and slots the mask back in place. If you were any more lucid, maybe you’d be able to comprehend what will follow next. “Take off your top,” the quieter one mumbles, as he starts unbuckling his own belt.

“Here, I’ve got it,” Tooru then chants, too playfully, taking your hands and moving them above your head. As they rise, you feel the sudden feeling of terror flood over you again, shuddering as the fabric is pulled up and wipes past the mix of fluids on your face. You stay like that though, letting him maneuver you like a toy until your shirt lands beside you, and he then starts work on your bra. “Aren’t you a pretty one, hm? Cutie.”

The way he drags his fingers along your shoulder to push each strap aside one at a time is infuriating, but aside from lowering your arms to the side, you don’t— can’t stop them from unhooking and letting the bra join the clothes. Iwa’s quick to perk up at the sight of you, halfway to shouldering Tooru aside to take a good look. And though he doesn’t speak, the soft grunt and way he goes to cup himself over his pants says plenty. Your soft hiccups start back up at that. You don’t want to. You don’t want to one bit- and yet there’s nothing you can tell your body that would make you move. Not fast enough, at least. Tooru simply shakes his head. “You’re a real romantic.”

“Don’t need to be-” His fingers slide up your side before grabbing a handful of your tits and squeezing, as he gets closer on his knees. “Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, Shittykawa. Start taking off your fucking clothes.” His hands roam along your cold skin, brushing playfully against your peaked nipples a few times before he looks back at your face. “You’re gonna take that pretty little mouth and place it on my cock. And if you bite me, I’ll pull each of your teeth out of your skull before you die.” His thumb swipes along your bottom lip, before pushing in and dragging the pad along your tongue. “Understood?”

Your voice loses all volume when he slides the digit deep enough to choke you up, before he pulls back briefly. “Mhm.” Tooru to your side doesn’t make haste in taking anything off, and seems to glitter at the brief attention you give him as he unbuttons the black dress shirt, revealing a toned chest and arms. He’s littered with scars, and somehow, that only makes everything more real. Before you’re able to think it through, you start crying again, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing the backs of your hands along your lashes like a child. “I…” You’re unable to stop. “I - I don’t- I wan- wanna go home— I-”

“Agh, fuck.” Someone speaks, but unlike the anger you expect to be met with, he groans it, delighted more than anything. Your eyes open when hands cup your face and you’re laid down onto the cold ground with a swift motion, and Tooru’s inhuman mask stares back at you— only revealing a wide grin. “Stupid girl. You can’t go home. You’re going to be our play thing until we get bored of you, or you stop being useful-” He dips down to an uncomfortable few inches from your face, and pinches your cheek until it hurts. “And then, you’re going to end up chopped into little pieces and buried in a shallow grave. Heh, how dumb are you? You wanna go home?” His mocking tone hurts almost as much as the sharp glare.

You can’t help it, you cry harder, and try to get from under his heavy body to hide your face— but that only faces you with the horrifying reality of your friends’ fate. “Wanna cry to mommy and daddy about it?” As he gets close enough to almost brush his lips over your ear, a soft chuckle comes out. “You better not tell Iwa-chan that. He’s really mean when he gets jealous.” He moves to pry open your mouth and slides two long fingers in without warning, having you choking again and spluttering around. “Now be a good girl. Or don’t be. Doesn’t matter to me.” Your tongue squirms uncomfortably as the fingers invade your throat and make it feel like you’re drowning in your own spit- with desperate puffs of air through your nose as you cry.

“Move that way,” Iwa grunts after a few seconds, before staring at the wobbly line along your eyes again. “Guess I get to go first.” There’s a distinct lilt of amusement that hangs over everything he says as he grabs your leg and yanks you up to start pulling your shorts down. Finally Tooru pulls back as you cough, spit leaking out of the sides of your mouth— before he too starts taking off the last of his clothing and hums softly to himself.

“Isn’t she really sexy when she’s pouting like this?” His gleaming praise is paired with a sharp tap to your cheek, as he peeks out a sliver of his tongue. “Crying like a desperate, little slut.” He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything in between your sobs before he grabs himself at the base and leans over you to press his cock head to your mouth. “You’re just a hole for us to abuse, you know that?” Something in the back of your mind begs for you to bite him, but almost as if he can smell your intent, his hand wraps around your throat and pushes, hard. “Try something and you’ll wish I was just being mean all over, cutie.”

“Gotta fit us, baby,” the other voice speaks, and makes you want to sink through the floor. Your body can’t stop crying, and the anger you feel is almost equal to your fear. It’s not enough to let you ignore them. They have to demand your attention too. “Pretty little cunt.” He starts rubbing your pussy up and down with rough fingertips, then spits and spreads around the wetness before he almost immediately pushes two fingers in dry— and it makes you jerk at the uncomfortable feeling of your body being invaded.

“I think she likes it when it hurts, Iwa-chan,” Tooru’s playful tone makes you want to scratch and bite and tear his head off. It just has you crying your eyes shut though, and lay there shaking. What other choice do you have? His tone doesn’t change as he demands attention by rubbing your tits and squeezing until you squeak. “That’s a good toy.” The rubbing and prodding does start to allow your wound-up muscles to loosen up a bit, but when the hand between your legs pulls back, you’re still not nearly wet enough. Iwa’s strong thighs under yours cause your hips to be aligned with his, as he grunts, as he looks, as he all but eats you up with his eyes.

But that’s all you get before Tooru’s patience wanes and he prods open your mouth, and starts feeding you his cock. “Ah, there you go, little crybaby. Open wide.” The taste of his precum on your tongue along with the bucking into your cheek makes you open your eyes to look up, and to your surprise, his mask has been discarded too. There’s a healthy flush on his cheeks, and in any other situation, you’d be taken aback by how pretty he is. Instead he grabs a hand of your hair and forces his flushed cock down your throat, as you try not to panic further. The feeling hurts. It hits the back of your mouth as your tongue squirms around him and he makes you heave—

and the hot, heavy cock that was pressed against your mound is now also pushed in you with a low, gravelly moan. There’s an ache inside you that is impossible to ignore as he fills you up inch by inch and the stretch really hurts, going into pleasure too quickly. You shouldn’t- you know you shouldn’t, don’t want to- you swear, you swear. Everything is too much. The cock in your throat makes you gag as Iwa bottoms out, grabbing your hips and anchoring himself inside you. The warm cloud of pleasure that spreads through you is painfully overwhelming. “Tight fucking pussy- god-”

The one closest groans out your name, as you feel his cock pound on your tongue. “Ain’t she just- so- gh-good?” Tooru’s flash to yours and the big, brown irises that look back at you make you shiver. He pulls back to beam down at you with what you could almost call a serene smile, as his cock jerks against your cheek and his hand runs down your body. Your pussy clenches as the rhythm of Iwa’s cock pistoning in and out of you starts feeling more than just painful— and wetness starts allowing him to slide in with a wet squelch. When a tiny moan comes out of your mouth, Tooru giggles, and leans in. “Don’t you like it a little too much? Having two bad men fucking you? After what happened-”

“Leave her be Oikawa- ugh,” Iwa groans from behind his mask, hiking you up to speed up the rhythm inside you, “don’t bully our new pet… Ah, fu~ck.” The loud paps of skin meeting skin is all you can hear, as your back lifts off the cold ground and his cock rocks into the best part of your walls. Your body is strung tight enough for every touch to feel better than the last, even the twitching of the drooling cock head as it’s smeared on your lips. “She feels so good.” 

“I’m just teasing. Right, little one?” You don’t fight the urge to stick your tongue out and lick along the glossy slit of his cock, and Tooru grabs your head to keep you there. “Oh sh-, see? She likes it. She likes getting fucked like she’s nothing. Just a greedy little cunt and throat, huh?” He moans as you wrap your lips around him again, and narrows his eyes at your face. “‘S all you’re good for.” The thumping vein on your tongue is thrust back into your mouth, and you cry as he fucks all the precum down your throat before pulling back.

“Ah, ah, ah~” Your whimpering is beyond you, as you cling to the arm of the one closest to you. You’re completely gone. The tingling all over your body is all you can feel, the heat of them over you and inside you as you cry and moan and whine, and the hands roam on your body. Each time Iwa bottoms out in you, your body jerks from the pleasure and impact, and Tooru’s eyes seem to darken as you blubber around the base of his cock for air. He doesn’t falter when he turns to stare at the other man instead, and keeps you down there. “She’s close, hurry it up.” 

“I want to cum inside,” Iwa immediately says back, and though you can’t see the frown you hear it’s there. He’s still fucking right into that spot that’s making you almost crosseyed, so they’re not even wrong. His deep voice rumbles as he thinks, and his strong, muscular shoulders square. All the while you’re trying to cum up for air, and Tooru threads his fingers through your hair. “You’ll have to wait a little for your turn.”

Your lungs ache and your vision goes spotty from being choked so long, before the brunet finally lets you jerk back off his drooling, spit-coated cock to take a deep breath, and let out a cry. Still each pump of Iwa’s body against yours taps your puffy clit, and winds that coil even tighter in your belly. Your dripping cunt clenches all the same, even as tears dry on your face. “Well, you heard the guy, cutie. He needs to breed that pretty pussy. So you’ll have to put up with me for a little while longer.” He slides his cock along the back of your tongue, before rolling his hips into you with a long moan.

You're going to cum. Oh no, you're actually going to fucking cum from this.

Tooru must know, because his eyes glitter as he meets yours, and licks his lips. “But you don’t mind that, right, pet?”

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