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apollyonsdarksecrets · 12 days ago

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The Suppressants

Alpha! Joel Miller X Omega!AFAB!Reader

Part One, Part Two

(( it won’t let me post the URL for part one, so please visit the link below to my Master List where you can find Part One!))

The complete Collection: Apollyon’s Master List.

Summary: What do you do when you run out of heat suppressants? You turn to the only person who can possibly get you more medication; even if it means airing your biggest secret. But when Joel doesn’t have what you need you must travel together to meet another dealer. Surely you’ll get more medicine score your heat starts… right?

Warnings: 18+ content, post-apocalyptic world. A/B/O alternative universe, (A/B/O dynamics including: Scenting, Marking, Knotting, Heats) age gap (Reader is 26, Joel is late 40s), reader has been on suppressant most of her life, Joel teaches reader about guns, parental lost (not depicted on page), he falls first, angst(?), gore and violence. SMUT: Fingering, PIV, no use of protection (wrap it up y’all!), slight breeding kink if you squint, knotting, marking, heavy praise kink. ((Please let me know if I missed anything))

The day creeps on into the late evening, and as stars begin to speckle the sky you finally draw yourself away from the window, unable to see anything but your own reflection. Joel sits by the fire, trying to make it seem as if he wasn’t watching you the whole time your back had been turned. He shuffles his legs, picking at the ruminants of the rabbit on his plate.

“He’ll be here.” Joel glances up as you pace over, biting at your thumb nail as you stare into the orange and blue embers.

“Yeah, yeah I know.” But there’s a catch in your voice, your smile wavering slightly when you catch his eye.

He holds your stare for a moment, and you’re unable to hide the pinch of worry between your brow, your smile falling further. “Come on, sit.” Joel nods at your sleeping bag, sliding the rest of the rabbit towards you. “Gotta eat, kid. It ain’t gonna do you any good to make yourself sick while we wait.”

He has a point. You slide your bag closer to him and the fire, crossing your legs as you sit, pulling the plate into your lap. The silence stretches between you, filled only by the pop of the logs in the brick fireplace. You dare a glance towards Joel, finding him leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out and staring into the fire. Both of you lost in your own heads, wondering what could have happened to make Mark so late.

“Let me ask you something.” You’re caught staring, your cheeks flushing as Joel turns to look at you.

“W-What?”

“How long have you been on this medication?”

“Oh um… Eight? Nine years, maybe.” You shrug your shoulder, popping a piece of meat into your mouth.

Joel stares at you, stunned. “That long?” His thoughts turn instantly to how the medication could have affected you, how your body works, down to your biology. He can’t stop the spark of horror showing in his eyes before you notice.

You blanch slightly, stammering over your words. “Well… well yeah. I mean I couldn’t let anyone know, obviously. It’s… mom explained it like it was pretty much birth control. Never have a heat, never have to worry.” You try to shrug it off but Joel shakes his head, turning his body towards you.

“Yeah, but even then birth control isn’t supposed to be used your entire life… Are all of your instincts suppressed?”

The look on his face, how his eyes have grown wider, it makes you fidget. “Um… I guess so. I don’t really know what though.”

Joel shakes his head slightly, finally resting his gaze on the fire. “How come you never decided to find an Alpha to settle with? Someone you trusted?”

Your cheeks grow warm, the plate long forgotten in your lap, staring at Joel as the firelight dances across his features. “Well, I…” You don’t advert your gaze when he looks back at you, your heart steadily beating faster. “I thought about it… but I’m… I’m scared. I’m scared that the moment an Alpha finds out that he’ll use me, strip me of everything I am until I am nothing more than my biology…”

Your words are heavy in the air, the two of you staring at each other as the logs shift and crack in the hearth. Joel sits up a little straighter, resting his arms on his knees and glancing you over, breaking eye contact first.

“You told me.” His voice is gruff, underlying emotions caught at the back of his throat and your eyes widen.

“Of… of course I did-You’re…”

“Different?” He offers, eyebrows lifting, gesturing with a hand. You nod, suddenly all too aware of how close you are to him, how his eyes burn into your own, how he’s a larger than life presence in the room and that…

It doesn’t scare you, nothing about Joel has ever scared you. Unlike most of the Alphas you had the misfortune of crossing paths with.

It’s a startling realization, stealing your breath as you turn away.

Joel is different. He’s always been different.

“Y/n?”

You set the plate down clumsily beside him, the clunk loud on the wood floor, before you stand with your bag.

“I’m tired… do you mind taking first watch?”

Before he can answer you’re walking away, setting your bag down near the wall farthest from his. You crawl in and turn over, the pounding of your heart keeping you up for most of the night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Day one of staying in the safe house slowly rolls into day two. Then those hours bleed over into day three and the anxiety that was pumping through your veins has morphed and transcended into pure terror.

There is still no sign of Mark as you and Joel pick at breakfast.

There is still no sign of Mark as you pace back and forth across the house when Joel tries to convince you to sit and eat lunch.

Now the sun is beginning to set, and the limitations of your calm have reached a breaking point. The empty pill bottle lays by your bag, an orange beacon of what is to come should Mark never show. The heaviness of the situation is slowly suffocating the air from the room, and there is nothing either of you can do as you wait, and wait, and wait.

Joel watches you from his spot by the window, lines of stress carve your face, your body jerky with how tightly strung your muscles are as you fold another blanket from the pile you had found in one of the back rooms. He isn’t sure what more he can do, though his instincts beg to comfort you, to take you in his arms and soothe your fears. But he knows it would be a lie, that as soon as the medication begins to work out of your system you’ll go into heat at any given moment, if not immediately.

He glances out the window for what feels like the hundredth time, willing the short blond man to materialize on the empty street.

Your breath is staggered in your lungs, panic slowly tightening its grip around your neck by the minute, no matter how hard you try to keep it at bay. You toss another blanket onto Joel’s sleeping bag before bending to pick up the next, shaking it free of the dust that had gathered over the years. You try to focus on the feeling of the soft material beneath your fingers, or the way the particles float through the air, catching the sunlight. You count the blankets in each pile, trying to even them out.

“One, two, three-“

“Honey.”

You jump at Joel’s deep voice, turning to find him staring at you, his arms folded across his chest, his eyebrows pinched once more. “Y-Yes?” Your eyes flickering to the door expectantly, a spark of hope wishing to fan to life.

Joel rolls his lips together, adverting his gaze. “Ya might wanna take all those blankets into that back room… Make somewhere comfortable for yourself later.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach, the feeling flooding from your hands as the blanket falls to the floor. “W-What? Why?”

“I don’t think Marks going to make it.” Joel watches the color drain from your face in an alarming amount of time, his back stiffening as he pushes off the wall, suddenly afraid you’re going to faint as you sway on your feet.

“N-no… No.” Denial takes a head, your eyes becoming watery. “He said he would be here, he-he has to be here!” Despair makes you raise your voice, and the look of pity in Joel’s eyes only makes the feeling worse. “Why isn’t he here?”

Shaking his head, Joel runs his hands through his hair. “Darling I wish I knew. There’s a number of things that could have happened. From him deciding what I was trading wasn’t good enough to he could have possibly been attacked.” Joel’s words hold reason, and you want to accept them, you want them to make you feel better, to understand that this journey was a risk with no guaranteed reward.

“I can’t go through this Joel. I can’t.” Your voice breaks as he becomes blurry, tears burning your eyes that refuse to fall just yet. “I can’t go home, I can never go back to the QZ.”

“Baby… Yes you will.”

“No I can’t! The moment I get remotely close to those walls an Alpha is going to hunting me like I am some kind of-“

Joel is suddenly before you, gripping your shoulders, and his solemn features are extremely clear as the first tear falls. “Ain’t no one, and I mean no one gonna lay a finger on you. I wont let that happen.”

“I’m an unmated Omega, Joel…” You whisper, trembling under his grip. “I’m prey.”

The words are heavy, laden with the truth. Where as the few mated Omegas there are, are relatively safe in the presence of their Alpha or pack, an unmated Omega is injured prey in a room full of predators.

Joel cusses, his grip tightening ever so slightly, fingertips digging into your sweater. He ducks slightly, bringing himself to your level, and this close you can see the slightest specks of colors hidden amongst the brown in his eyes. Golds and greens swirling together. You get so lost in the depths of them for a moment that you start slight when he speaks.

“Listen… I’ve been thinking about this and I just… You need to hear me out, alright? You know I’d never do nothing to hurt you, but this is the only option I see.”

Hesitation bubbles uncomfortably in your stomach, your nod small as you suddenly realize how close you both are, how strong his smell is growing.

Joel swallows thickly, searching your eyes. “Let me mark you.”

You gasp, pulling away and Joel lets you, raising his hands in the air as you stare in growing disbelief. “What?”

Joel rushes to explain, sensing the rising fight that is about to ensue. “After. After you get through your heat, when it’s time for us to leave let me lay a mark on you. It wont be a mating mark, just a claim. Any Alpha that dares to come near you will scent me immediately.”

A trembling hand flutters to your throat, the most traditional place for a mark of any kind. “That’s… That’s a really big commitment Joel…” You breath, looking up at the older man. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t ask that of you.” The thought of bearing Joel’s mark though makes the blood in your veins feel thick, something deep in your stomach clenching as you imagined what it would feel like, how his mark would appear on your skin.

“You aren’t ask anything of me, Y/n. I am offering you a solution.” Joel insists.

A solution.

Is that all it is?

Though claims are not as strong as Mating marks, Joel’s scent would be imbedded into your very being; and as he said, not a single person would dare mess with you. Him being one of the most powerful people in the QZ… But there is something whispering at the back of your mind, a fleeting feeling of disappointment that startles you.

Is this just a man doing whatever it takes to uphold his bargain?

“I mean… I understand. It-It’s just… what if there is someone you find later on, they aren’t going to be happy that you have already marked another person.” You feel stupid just saying that, but apart of you wants to know, some part that is is suddenly feeling small and insecure as you stare at Joel.

Joel’s smile is bemused, the corners of his lips hardly lifting as he cocks his head. “I ain’t been worried about such things for a long time, darling.” There’s a gleam in those brown eyes as he looks at you, “Is that a problem for you?”

Your skin flushes, the color filling the apples of your cheeks, and you can no longer hold his stare. Joel takes a testing step forward, and when you don’t retreat, he closes the distance. He curls a thick finger under your chin, tilting your head up with no where else to look but at him. Your pupils are blown out, covering the beautiful color of your irises, and he feels the slight bit of weight as you seemingly, unknowingly press your chin into the warmth of his hand. “Hmm?” He prompts, easing a little closer, the toes of his boots brushing yours, and you squirm in place. His presence is overpowering, making you feel small in a way that has your breath hitching. “Got someone you’re sweet on?”

The low rumble of humor in his voice makes you blink, stuttering your answer. “What? No-No of course not…” You think back to the conversation just a few nights ago, how you realized that you found more than comfort in Joel presence and you suddenly feel as though you’ve been doused with cold water.

His smile grows with your silence, a dimple peaking through the scruff of his beard, those crows feet reappearing by his eyes as he slips his hand along your jaw. “No one? Not a single soul?” He teases, his voice soft like the stroke of his fingers over the back of your jaw. You push his hand away, turning your back to him as you shake your head in embarrassment.

“I’ll consider it.” You mumble over your shoulder, a shudder ripping through you.

“That’s all I am asking for.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

As the sun dips past the rising building, needs you’ve never felt before begin to surface with the creep of night. Sitting on the floor of the back room, you readjust blanket after blanket to your liking. Every one that Joel lays out you have to pull and tug into the right place, wadding up some and discarding others.

Joel watches you, patient as he follows your instructions on how to help as you make your bed. You worry your lips between your teeth, sitting back on your heels as you stare at the mess before you. “It’s alright, your instincts to nest are starting to come out. It use to be that when Omegas lived with their Alpha’s they would have specific rooms designed just for their nests.” His voice is calm, trying to quell your anxiety.

“Really? That must have been nice…”

“It was. The space was sacred to an Omega, it was completely filled with things that they desired and found comfortable as well.” An intrusive thought fills Joel’s mind, an image of you, curled up amongst soft blankets and pillows. Your face no longer pinched with fear, instead soft with contempt.

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, a sheepish look crossing his features as you shake your head. “Something is missing… It doesn’t smell right… I need…” You whisper dies off as you look over, catching Joel’s stare. Your eyes move lower slowly, zeroing in on the dark green flannel he has thrown on over his t-shirt. Joel follows your gaze in confusion, cocking an eyebrow.

“Whatcha’ need, sweetheart?”

You swallow, his scent had been filling the room over the last few hours, calling to you, blanketing your nerves. He smells of pine woods, and whiskey, and the way a campfire clings to your clothes the next day. It’s intoxicating, a mouth watering scent you could easily become addicted to.

“Could… Could I have your flannel?” You can barely get the words out, embarrassed by the need for his scent to feel comfortable in your nest.

Joel stares at you in surprise, his eyes widening. “My shirt?”

You smooth out a wrinkle in the blanket you’re sitting on, unable to look him in the eyes as you stammer. “You… You smell good and it-it’s been comforting this entire trip…” Whatever you could possibly say to justify your request dies in your throat, sizzling with shame.

The room is quiet for a long moment before Joel moves out of the corner of your eye. He rolls his shoulders back, working the garment off his arms and handing it over. “There ya go.”

Your hand trembles minutely as you take it, his eyes locked with yours as you draw it to your chest, your heart pounding in your ears.

Joel’s next breath is cut short, a sweet smell beginning to permeate the air and he realizes your medication is leaving your system. Your natural scent is sweet, like peaches and chocolate, and something fresh like the first rain of spring.

It makes Joel’s stomach tighten, fire starting to kindle low in his groin, and he realizes he needs to put distance between the both of you while he can.

“I’m going to get you some food.” he stands from the crate and your gaze follows, traveling up the expanse of his body. Past his long legs clad in dark denim, past his tapered waist; further up his wide chest and corded arms until your focus is finally of his face.

You’re noticing things you hadn’t before, like how his salt and pepper beard has a heart shaped patched just under his jaw. The wild way his hair curlers, framing his face, and once more you’re drawn to the set of his lips. They look soft, warm, like they would move perfectly against your own.

“Honey?”

Joel’s thick accent washes over you, and a blazing heat licks up your spine making you whimper. Pain rips through your abdomen, your body suddenly feeling wound tight full of sudden need that leaves your panties slick.

His eyes widen, hit by the full volume of your scent as it perfumes and envelopes the room.

“Fuck, I’m-“

“You’re in heat.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

If you had to take a bet on who would be the first to break, you would have bet on yourself.

And you would have lost.

48 hours of hell.

48 hours of crying and silently begging for anything to end the pain.

Your fingers have hardly dented your heat, whatever relief you can bring yourself is too short lived, the agonizing pain eating you up until the point you’re certain you will die in this cramped little room. Joel’s flannel is damp with tears as you burry your face into the wad of material, the scent bringing you as much comfort as it brings you pain. The need for him is becoming too much.

You want to scream for him, beg for him to fix it the only way an Alpha can, but you force yourself to bite your lip.

The floorboard creaks suddenly on the other side of the door, and you know it’s Joel, checking on you once again, unnecessarily taunting you with what you can’t have. You whine, frustration eating at you as your hand cramps once more between your slick thighs, forcing you to stop rubbing cruel circles around your clit. You stare up at the ceiling, tears spilling along your temples and catching in your damp hair as you count the cracks in the drywall. Anything to focus on that isn’t the pain and need between your legs, or the way your skin sticks together with sweat.

The moment is to short lived and your body is moving, trying to find a comfortable position as you roll onto your knees, pressing your chest to the mound of blankets. You groan softly, letting your weight rest on your chest as your knees slide apart, your hand once again finding your pulsing clit. Burying your face into Joel’s flannel you huff a sigh, working yourself towards a quick high when the sound of the brass doorknob turning catches you off guard.

You shoot up, wrapping one of the loose blankets around your naked form just as Joel steps into the room.

Embarrassment and shock keep your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth as you stare at each other. The dying sunlight in the room casts him in shadows, his tan skin appearing darker, but his eyes shine as they rake over you.

He is quick to note the change in your smell, how the stress and pain have caused your scent to become overly sweet like turned fruit. The next thing he notices is his crumpled shirt, and the bright flush of your cheeks as you tighten the blanket around you, sweeping the garment underneath. Joel steps closer and you lean back, your breath hitching at the hunger in his eyes.

“Joel…” You try to warn, but he cooes softly and your cunt clenches at the noise.

“baby doll…” Tears fill your eyes at the softness of his tone, and he hurts to ease your pain. “Let me help you, sweetheart.” His voice is rough, ragged like he hadn’t spoke in days.

“No-No… I’m okay, I’ve got in under control.” You lie even as your body begs for the help.

Joel gets to his knees before you, hands clenching over his thighs. Your cheeks are bright red, your hair in a tangled mess on top of your head from where you had tried to tie it up. He has to keep himself from follow the beads of sweat that roll down your jaw before disappearing down the curve of your neck.

“I can’t sit out there a moment longer, listening to you crying and whimpering. It’s just me, you know you’ve always been safe with me.” You don’t reply, your eyes squeezing shut as a sharp shudder rips through you and it tugs at his heart. “Can I come closer?” You freeze, realizing that he’s asking to come into your nest. A delicious feeling of comfort rolls over your muscles at the idea, and you nod slowly.

Joel’s knees pop and creak as he climbs onto the pallet behind you, where he grips your shoulders and digs his thumbs into the tense muscles.

A small sob rips from your chest, leaning heavily into his grip. “I’ll do whatever you need, just say the word. If I need to leave I will, if I need to just sit here a while and talk you through this I can. But I can’t sit on the other side of that door and listen to you cry.”

His words simmer through your mind, stinging your already aching heart, and another sob is forced from your throat. Joel hushes you softly, his rough palms slipping up your neck then back down, as he pulls you back letting you rest against his chest.

Joel’s warmth bleeds into your own but it feels different, soothing. His scent is the strongest it’s ever been, filling your lungs with each shakey breath, and you feel something shift. Hushed words muddle together in your ears, your head leaning back against his chest as a breathy moan leaves your throat.

Without thought your hips begin to grind slowly, need pulsing so hot and heavy between your thighs that your hand travels down thoughtlessly. Your breath hitches as your fingers swirl around your swollen clit, slipping through your lips and pressing into your opening.

“Little Peach.” Joel’s voice is gruff, and another sob spills from your lips.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t ask for this Joel, I didn’t ask to be born like this.” Before you can snatch your hand away, horror flooding through your body, Joel is there. His hand finds an opening in the blanket so loosely wrapped around your body, gripping your wrist stopping you.

“I know… I know you didn’t but there ain’t no reason to fight it now baby. It’s said and done.” His clauses are rough against your skin, and you hold your breath as he covers your hand with his own. “Use me. Take what you need, whatever it is.”

Your eyes are droopy with lust when you turn your head to look up at him, the softest whimper leaving your lips when Joel shifts behind you , pressing the hard ridge in his pants against your back.

“I…” You swallow, thighs trembling as you feel your laced fingers brush the thatch of curling hair covering your pussy. “I don’t want to make you do anything…”

When he chuckles the sound reverberates through your back, “Darlin’,” He drawls the word out close to your ear, “You didn’t make me stay, you didn’t make me come in this room. And you certainly aren’t making me do this.”

He emphasizes his point by tracing the drenched slit of your cunt, earning a high pitched squeak. “Fuck, peach… So wet, she’s just fucking dying for some attention isn’t she?”

Your head, feeling heavy, falls back against his shoulder, eyes squeezing shut as bliss fills your body. Joel tugs testingly at your blanket and when it slips from your fingers, Joel pulls it away revealing your body to him.

Joel sucks in a breath, his pupils dilating as he drinks in the sight of you laid out between his legs. Your chest rises and falls with each quick breath, the sheen of sweat gleaming on your body in the dim golden light of the room. “Look at you…” A hunger permeates his words, his breath growing more ragged as he draws a delicate circle around your clit, eliciting a gasp. “You are beautiful, so very, very beautiful.”

Your hips circle, seeking more of anything he is willing to give you. “Please, I need you… I need you, Joel.” You turn your face into his neck, your breath fanning over his skin.

“Ain’t gotta beg, pretty girl. I’ve got ya.” His fingers draw lazy patterns around your clit and you moan, slow and drawn out, hips bucking as he keeps a steady pace. Joel works you up easily with a few expert swipes, your back bowing as your orgasm crashes through you. Your cries of ecstasy are muffled against his throat, thighs squeezing his hand.

He shushes you as you float back to reality, gasping for breath as you relax against him; your muscles loose, bones feeling like jello. “Atta girl, easy Peach.”

You try to catch your breath, reviling in the small reprieve he’s given you. “peach… why peach?” You whisper, making Joel chuckle softly.

“It’s all I can smell ever since your medication wore off. Peaches and chocolate .”

You hum, a small smile playing at your lips. “Are you sure the chocolate bar didn’t melt in my bag?”

Joel smiles, lazily dragging his fingers across your stomach. “Yeah, I’m sure. Bakers chocolate doesn’t smell this sweet.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and your heart flutters, a calm washing over your mind at the same time a spark flairs to life in your stomach.

You lean back, eyes hazy, lids heavy matching the look of his own. The few seconds you spend staring at each other feel like an eternity before you close the gap.

It’s hesitant, as most first kisses are, a little puff of surprise between your lips before they seal together. Finding the rhythm that works so well as one moans softly and the other swallows the noice. Your hand slips up his chest, feeling the wild thump of his heart before it travels up his neck to rest against his jaw.

Joel helps you as you turn, never letting the kiss break as you shakily straddle his lap, pressing your body tight against his own. The spark catches quickly, setting fire to your body as you grind against the hard bulge in his pants. His hands grip the dent of your waist, encouraging your movements with soft squeezes, while you tug fitfully at his shirt.

“More.” You mumble against his lips, letting your heat take the lead, turning off all thoughts of shame as his shirt slips up and you lay your hands on his bare skin for the first time. He pulls the shirt off completely and you lean back, admiring him with lust blown eyes. Joel sighs softly, his head dropping back as your fingers run through the dense curling hair across his chest. His body is strong, sculpted by years of manual labor and survival, yet his stomach is a little soft with age. You scratch your nails down his stomach lightly, following the trail of hair down to the buckle of his jeans and Joel closes his eyes.

“I want you.” You lick your lips, salivating at the thought of what lies just below the thick blue denim. Joel moans again, his chest rising with the need for air as he nods.

“Gonna need to work you open for me, honey.” He breaths, his eyes falling to where your hands fumble over the button of his jeans.

“Just… I just need you, it’s okay.” There’s a frantic note to your voice, all logic thrown out the window at this point, need and instinct pushing you forward.

Joel sees this, and slips his hand around your throat, squeezing softly and forcing you to sit back, ignoring your desperate whine. “Ima give you what you want, but you’re gonna listen to me little girl. Am I clear?” There’s a touch of command in his voice, forcing your gaze to his and waiting until you finally nod your understanding.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, sneaking his other hand between your bodies, stroking your pussy. You groan, eyes fluttering closed as your grind yourself against his hand, supporting yourself by gripping his arm. “That’s it… go ahead baby…” Joel’s voice is hoarse, his pupils dilated as he sinks two fingers into your heat. You gasp at the sudden stretch, the burn of his thick digits spreading you open. Your jaw falls slack, eyes rolling up as bliss radiates through your body. “Fuuuck, baby girl…” Joel pulls his fingers out before sinking them back in, the calluses he’s built from years of working with his hands rub along your sensitive walls, reaching places you never thought possible. “Y’er so tight… squeezing my fingers like that.” Joel’s Texan twang seeps into his words as his arousal heightens, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans as he works his fingers in and out, faster and harder, mesmerized by the way your hips buck and twitch; climbing towards your next orgasm. “Come on baby… cum fer me darlin’.”

Your body sings for him, the force of your orgasm shaking you as your back bows and light explodes across your vision. Your thighs quake, Joel’s name falling from your lips as you sob, rutting against his hand as your cunt squeezes his fingers with each radiating wave of pleasure.

The soft, comforting sounds of his approval reaches your ears, his grip slackening around your throat as you slump against him. “So beautiful, cumming all over my fingers like that. I need to see you cum on my cock baby.” His words have you preening, his voice husky as you lean back, your grin lopsided and your eyes glossed over. Joel strokes a thumb over your cheek, and you turn your head, kissing his palm. “Lay back for me. Let me take care of you.”

With much effort you manage to lay back in your nest, your legs spread, hips circling invitingly as Joel climbs to his feet, finally stripping off his jeans. All that remains in the way of what. You need the most, are his thin pare of threadbare boxers. Your mouth salivates at the bulge in his underwear, giving you a good peak at the size of his member hiding just underneath. “How do you want me?”

Your voice is so soft, yet wrecked with lust, ready to please Joel. He smiles, his cock twitching. “why don’t you roll over for me huh? That’s right, goood girl.” You follow his instructions, knees slipping on the blanket, head resting on your arms as you try to catch your breath through the thickness of your anticipation.

Dropping his boxers he groans as his cock springs free, bobbing between corded thighs as he takes his place behind you, hands steadying himself on the small of your back. He sighs deeply, cock twitching and knot swelling slightly at the sight of your drenched cunt, inviting him to sink into your heat.

You wiggle your hips impatiently, turning your head and catching sight of him leaning over you, the predatory hunger in his gaze. “I know… I know you need this little one.” His voice drops to a husky vibration in his wide chest and all you can do is nod, your tongue feeling thick in your mouth. “It’s alright baby, I’ll make it better.” Gripping his cock, Joel glides his fingers over the long length of his shaft, teasing the throbbing vein running up his cock before slipping the flushed tip through your folds.

“Please… Please Alpha.” You beg through thick tears, gripping the faded purple blanket below you as Joel notches his cock against your entrance. He presses his hips forward, both of you moaning loudly as he sinks into your warmth. “Joel…” You simper, rocking your hips back, attempting to take more of him. You thought his fingers had been a stretch, now you understand why he was so adamant about opening you up. His cock is long and thick, spearing you open and stretching your walls in ways that feel like you might be ripped in two at any moment.

“Fuck… fuck y’re so tight.” Joel breathes raggedly, his focus torn between not busting right here and now and not thrusting into you savagely. “Easy baby, gotta stretch you out nice and slow.” You mewl, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel him slipping deeper and deeper with small thrusts. every ridge and bump rubbing across your sensitive walls, working you higher and higher.

A hand travels up your bowed spine, gripping your neck and pressing your face into the blankets. “This sweet pussy must have been made for me, huh? the way she squeezes me so tight.” Joel curves over you, his weight settling against your hips as he drives forward, burying himself to the hilt. You squeal at the sudden force, your legs shaking and weak profanities spilling from your lips.

Joel chuckles quietly, bracing his weight on his hands, trapping you below him. “You can take it can’t you baby? You’re doing so well.” He rocks back, sliding out a few inches before burying himself back into you, a gruff moan falling from his lips. He continues his shallow thrusts, like he can’t stand the thought of leaving your drooling cunt for to long.

“Y-yes, yes Alpha.” You stutter, the euphoria coursing through your body threatening to break your mind, as the engorged head of his cock presses against a sensitive spot along your gummy walls. “Please… Please I’m gonna-!” Your muscles lock, mouth agape, as your orgasm suddenly begins to crest.

With a growl, Joel presses his forehead between your shoulder blades. “Cum for me.” He grunts, already feeling his heavy balls drawing tight as your cunt starts fluttering. “Cum for me and I’ll give you my knot.”

A shrill scream bubbles out of your throat, your body jerking below his as you fall into that black pit of pleasure. Joel’s hand slaps over your mouth, muffling your cry of pleasure as his head shoots up, eyes locking on the window for the briefest of moments. “There you go baby, let go for me.” He breathes into your ear, pulling you tight to his chest as he plows himself into your pliant cunt. Fat tears spill over your cheeks, your desperate whines and whimpers caught in his meaty palm as his thrusts become harder, deeper, faster.

“This little pussy, she’s just begging for my cum.” The rhythmic sound of his hips snapping against your ass fills the room, just below it is the sloppy sound of his cock spearing into you. You nod weakly, working your hips back to meet him thrust for thrust and he grins. The look almost triumphant. “Yeah she does… Gonna let me breed her, huh? Gonna let me fuck her full of me?”

Joel drops his hand, circling your throat holding your head against his shoulder. “Yes! Yes oh god, cum in me, cum in me please!” Your cry is all he needs, his control snapping as he bully’s his cock against your cervix.

Joel grunts, his eyes closing and head tilting back as the first jet of cum paints your walls. You squeal, a noise so high and piercing that Joel jerks slightly. His knot swells stretching your cunt beyond what you think you can take, locking you to Joel.

“Fuck baby… you can take it, let go and relax.” He whispers, nipping your shoulder as he grinds his hips against your ass, his spend filling you to the point it has no where else to go, your stomach bulging ever so slightly before it leaks past his knot.

You whimper softly, your thoughts dissipating completely as Joel pants above you. He slowly rolls you both on to your side, cradling you close as he pulls a blanket across your shivering body. Smoothing the sweaty hair from your face he rains kisses down on your shoulders and neck, hushing your whimpers with praises, even as his cock still twitches in your depths.

“I’ve got you, rest baby, I’ve got you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hng- Joel… oh god…” Your head lulls back, Joel’s hand keeping you from hitting the floor as he cradles your neck. Fingers twitching around locks of grey hair, you moan Joel’s name as he drags his cock from your sodden pussy, only to press back in a second later.

Fingertip shaped bruises and dark red love bites littler your body, mirroring Joel’s. A new one popping up every few minutes, consequences of how you’ve spent the last four days.

Even now, Joel circling a pebbled nipple with the tip of his tongue, laving the delicate skin before pulling it into the warmth of his mouth. Your jaw drops, back arching in a silent plea for more, which Joel is happy to accommodate. His teeth scrape over the sensitive peak, sucking deeply before twirling his tongue around your nipple.

You bask in the feeling, your senses having finally starting to become your own as your heat subsides. You tug on Joel’s hair, pulling him from your breast with a wet pop, his brown eyes meeting your own. They’re heavy with lust, soft pants falling from his lips as he grinds against your core. Snuggly wrapped in your wet warmth, his hips barely move as he languidly fills you with every inch he has. The course hairs at the bottom of his shaft, made sticky with the mix of your releases, rubs against your swollen clit; giving it the right amount of friction to keep you on the edge of bliss.

You drag Joel’s lips to your own, moaning as he sweeps his tongue into your mouth, tasting you in the same manner as which he ravishes your body. Pulling back Joel stutters for breath, taking in the rose color of your kiss bitten lips, the seemingly permanent stain of color on your cheeks, how your eyes shine with need as they never leave his.

You lean up, pressing kisses along his jaw, down his neck tasting the salt on his skin. Joel’s hand moves from its place in the bend of your knee, to the plush of your hip, holding you as close as he can. He can hear you breathing in his scent with soft little whimpers, your hands gripping at him as if he is likely to disappear at any given moment.

Joel knows the feeling too well, it threatens to cave his chest in, to pull him into an inky void of loneliness if you decide, by the end of this, that it was all a big mistake. His long fingers tangle into your hair, pulling you from the crook of his neck with ease to stare into your laden eyes.

“You look so pretty like this.” Joel’s voice is thick, sticking in his throat. You make a soft noise of appreciation, rolling your hips to meet his shallow thrusts.

Joel’s pace slowly increases, his cock sliding further and further out before finding home again. Your lashes flutter, gasping quietly as he presses his forehead to yours.

“J-Joel…”

“I want to mark your pretty little neck, I don’t ever want to let you go.” A whine falls from your lips at a particularly hard thrust, your pussy becoming more sensitive, your bud grinding against his pelvic. “Want to keep you all to myself, keep you covered in my scent and filled with my cum.”

Joel moans as your cunt flutters, your legs starting to shake, nails digging into his shoulders.

You nod your head, bliss building under your skin. “Joel… Joel!” He leans closer, practically bending you in half as his grip tightens on the back of your neck.

“Say it baby, tell me I can mark you. Tell me your my Omega.“

“I’m yours! M-Mark me Joel, please!”

With a harsh thrust Joel sends you spiraling, dropping you over the edge into oblivion as his teeth sink into the thin skin of your neck. Your eyes widen, your grip tightening around Joel as the new sensation washes through your body.

For the briefest of moments you can feel everything Joel does, though his emotions pelt you so rapidly you can’t catch on to any of them before he draws away. There’s blood on his lips, a needy manic look in his eyes as his hips falter, moans falling off his tongue as he fucks into you. Joel grips the backs of your thighs, bending you in half, letting gravity work with him as he bears his teeth and molds your pussy to the shape of his cock.

“Mine, my sweet Omega. All mine.” Little whimpers and babbled prayers leave your lips, too limp and compliant below him to do much else. You watch his face twist, his nose scrunching, lips pulling back from his teeth, eyes closing as the first twitch of his cock sends a jet of seed deep into your cunt.

Knot catching, plugging your dripping hole, Joel collapses, hardly catching himself from crushing you under the heft of his weight. Your thighs burn from the stretch, your limbs loose and yet tight all at once as he nips and peppers your jaw and throat with kisses. Your head falls to his chest, a wave of exhaustion crashing into you as Joel rolls you both over, welcoming your weight on top of him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“We’ve used up most of our food, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hunt down a few rabbits to hold us over until we get back.”

Joel squats by the packs, sorting through them, transferring all of the lighter things to your bag. You watch from the center of your makeshift nest, now fully dressed in your travel clothes, your eyes trained on each item he rearranges as your fingers pick at the blanket below you.

A large part of you doesn’t want to leave this room, it wants to stay buried in your nest with Joel beside you. Never to emerge again, growing oblivious to the world outside. But you know that isn’t how it works, that you have to take the next steps and navigate this new life ahead of you.

Joel doesn’t need to look at you to see your discomfort, your scent gives you away. The sweet smell now is too strong, bordering on sour. He looks over his shoulder, catching your eye. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” You look like your verging on tears, your lip starting to tremble. Joel sets the bag down, his eyebrows furrowing as he turns fully. “I’ve never… I’ve never lived as an Omega, Joel. I-I mean, yeah I have been an Omega this whole time but I’ve lived as a Beta, I didn’t have to worry about going out of my apartment, I never had to fear an Aloha taking interest in me. I-I don’t know what to do with all of these emotions and-and feelings burning in my chest.” Tears spill over your cheeks and Joel quickly moves to you, sitting on his knees in front of you. You suck in a harsh breath, a sob threatening to swallow your words. “I don’t want to leave my nest.”

“Baby…” Joel pulls you into his lap, cradling you as he smooths a hands down your back. “I’ve got you baby girl.” He whispers into the crown of your hair, your sobs wracking your body as you cling to his jacket. “You aren’t alone, I’m here and like I’ve said, I ain’t gonna let a thing happen to you. You’ll still live your life just as you did before. We just need make a few changes is all.”

You sniffle with a nod, closing your eyes as you inhale his scent. “I’m sorry.” You mutter timidly.

“Ain’t gotta be sorry. Just need ya to trust me, okay?”

“O-okay…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun is so bright after being locked inside the house for so long, you squint at your surroundings as Joel ushers you outside and down the steps. You look around at the sunny world, the bright lights and hues of approaching fall. It all feels so conflicting with the turmoil of emotions you feel inside.

You start down the walk way, Joel’s presence at your back, he’s talking about the trip home, how often you both will need to stop, the things that need to be restocked. Vaguely you are listening, your focus drawn to everything around you, something wrong scratching at your bones as you turn onto the street.

You draw to a halt, your breath leaving your lungs in a whoosh before you stumble back, knocking into Joel.

“Oh my god.” You gasp. Joel goes ridged, seeing the body splattered across the road at the same time you do. His gun is drawn in seconds, coming around you, instantly scooping the surrounding areas and you are following suit. Your gun trembles between your palms, your heart pounding in your ears as Joel takes steady steps towards the corpse. “Joel…” Your voice is hardly a whisper, your eyes darting away to the darkened openings of the building on every side of you.

“Fuck…” Joel’s voice is louder than you expect, your skin prickling under your clothes.

“Wh-what is it?”

“Mark.” Widened eyes shoot to his, your mouth dropping open in shock. Joel glances at you briefly before crouching down, grabbing Mark’s bag and dragging it to his side. Quickly looking away you swallow the growing vile rising in your throat at the glimpse of his desecrated body. Despite the hefty distance you can smell the copper tang of Mark’s blood, can see the pool of it dried against the black asphalt and the flies that buzz about his body.

“Your pills are here.” Joel’s knees pop as he stands, heaving the bag over his shoulder as his gaze snags on you. Your body trembles like an unsteady fawn, eyes riveted to the ground before you as you gulp in lungfuls of air. He sighs, glancing down to step around the dealer as he speaks. “Hey, it’s al-“

His next words are lost in a flurry of motion, a yell erupting from his throat as he’s slammed to the pavement, sliding across the rough ground as a weight lands on his body.

The rotting stench wafts into his face, just before graying chipped teeth gnash mere inches from his throat. A scream rips from you at the same time the creature shrieks, struggling against the handle of the shot gun pressing into its throat as Joel struggles to fight against its weight.

Without thinking you raise the gun, the crash corse you learned running through your brain all at once. You aim and fire, the first bullet whizzing past its head feet to the left. The thing claws at Joels thick jacket, looking for a hold to retch itself closer as Joel kicks out his legs, tangled in the bag he had dropped.

The next shot burst into the ground, a foot above Joel’s head and you cry in frustration, anger filling your bones, burning your nerves as you scream. “FUCK!”

You step forward, one arm lifting as you aim, twisting your wrist as you squeeze the trigger.

Everything goes still, your heart, Joel’s breathing, as the zombie drops. the ruminants of its head splattered across the ground and Joel hefts its body to the side, rolling out from under it. A nervous laugh builds in your throat, your hand trembling worse than ever but you can’t bring yourself to lower your gun. Joel looks up at you from the ground, his chest heaving and eyes wide as he takes in your stance.

“D-Does he l-o-o-ook like a BITCH?!” Your voice rings off of the surrounds walls, hysteria making you stutter as you recall the only line you could think of. Joel springs to his feet, despite his bodies protest, and quickly makes his way to your side. Slowly he pries the gun from your hand, turning you away from the body of the cordio before he scoops up the fallen bag and drags you from the bloodied mess.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The fire crackles lowly, just barely lighting the area around it as night descends over the forest. You sit on the moss covered floor, knees tucked into your chest as you stare at the glowing embers, watching as they flicker in and out. Joel is across from you, his knife chipping away at a branch, whittling the wood down into a small figure, hidden in the width of his palm. The boarders of the QZ sit just a mile away, waiting for your return, but what is it you are returning to? The trip back had been far quieter than before, you had retreated into yourself, haunted by the question.

The bottles of pills are a reminder every time they jostle and make noise in your bag. Would you go back to taking them, only to risk reliving this trip all over again? What is your life now if you don’t take them? Do you live with Joel now or on your own? The mark on your neck burns at the thought of being separated from your mate, a concept your hormone free brain is having a hard time understanding.

“I can hear you thinking.” His gruff voice makes you jump, your eyes darting to his, blinking away the bursting dots of light that cloud your vision from staring at the fire for so long.

“What?”

Sighing he tilts his head to the side, pinning you with the inky depths of his stare. “I can practically hear your mind working itself into a tizzy. Plus you’re flooding me with your emotions, darling.” You blanch, mumbling an apology as you shift in your spot. Joel watches you, like he had the entire way home. The dark circles under your eyes, the dullness of your skin, the soft scared whimpers you’ve made in your sleep these last several nights.

He knows worrying like this will only make you sick, physically and mentally, being an Omega only makes it worse. “Come here.” He opens his arm, signaling for you to curl into his side and its like your body is wired to follow his commands. You move without a second thought, tucking yourself against his side, a weak sigh slipping past your lips. Being this close your muscles relax, your thudding heart slowing to a steady beat to match Joel’s own. “Talk to me, pretty girl.” He whispers, kissing the crown of your head as you shuffle impossibly closer.

After a long moment of silence, basking in the way his hand runs up and down your back, you finally relent. “I am so scared.” You breath, your gaze traveling to the luming walls in the near distance. “I-I know you will do anything to keep me safe but… but there is only so much you can do.” Your words sting, the hushed way you whisper them against his flannel nearly unbearable. Joel tightens his grip on your shoulders, about to deny your claim but you press forward. “Should I take the pills? Save us the trouble? But then we will have to do all… all of this all over again and I just… I don’t know if I can.”

Tears fill your vision, turning your face into his chest as you sob quietly.

“Y/n… baby girl.” He drops his knife to the ground, carding his fingers through your hair, pulling you in tighter. Almost as if he could press you into his very being, keep you there so that you never have to fret or worry again. Joel lets you cry, lets your tears soak through his shirt until there is nothing left but a few soft hiccups in your breath and your sagging against him for support.

“Look at me, peach.” His fingers sweep under your chin, lifting your face to his. Your eyes are swollen and red, your face blotchy but he cooes softly. His heart hammering against his own ribs but he can’t let you see that. Not yet. Not when there is still so much you have to face and need his strength for. “If you want to take the pills that is entirely up to you, I don’t have a say in the matter.”

“But you’re my-.”

“No. No matter what I am to you, I don’t have a right to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do with your own body. But,” He holds your stare for a moment, searching your tear stricken face. “But if you decide not to take them, you need to trust me. My scent is already marred into your skin, anyone can tell you are mine with or without being able to tell you are an Omega under neath. I’ve got you, you just need to trust in that.” Joel holds so much certainty in his words,so much need for you to trust and understand what he means, what he’s hoping to convey in the silent moments that follow.

You swallow, your throat working and Joel can’t help but to look, to see the mark that rings the side of your delicate neck. Whipping the remnants of your tears with the sleeve of your jacket you give a shallow nod, Joel had always protected you, had always made sure you were never without. Deep in your heart you knew he would hold true to his words, he would do everything in his power to keep you from falling prey to anyone else.

You just needed to trust him.

“Okay…” You breath, nodding your head as Joel does.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, sucking in a deep breath. the fire crackles and pops in the silence that follows, both of you lost in the comforting presence of the other. When Joel leans back there’s a smile playing on his lips. “You’re wrong by the way.”

“Huh?”

“Jules never shoots his gun like that. You’re thinking of Menace To Society.” Your mouth drops open, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.

“Yes he does! When he has that guy kneeling on the floor!”

Joel laugh with a shake of his head. “Nu-uh sweetheart. You’re wrong.”

You glare up at him, and his smile broadens, “We will just have to see about that.”

Your challenge only earns you a deep chuckle, before he pulls you in, planting a soft kiss on your lips. “What do I get when I prove you wrong?” The suggestion in his words reflect in his eyes, the deep dark brown swimming with excitement. a flush works up your neck, your hand tightening on the front of his shirt. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad we will never find out.” Joel lets out a little growl, squeezing your waist playfully making you squirm.

“Just you wait, little one. You’re in for it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Tag List: @halfburntout @scorpionsaintt

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hysterotic · 2 months ago

Text

✩ 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶𝑲𝒀𝑶 𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑿 𝑭𝑬𝑴!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹. 𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰𝑰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Think I care?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“h-huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why the balcony?” You cut in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? No, I am not,” Draken gulps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s different-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead, try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Emma.”

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

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

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

Fuck, you need air. Now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seen it’s mom yet?”

He shakes his head in response.

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“Let me patch you up at least.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

“Like that!”

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

“You’re doing it right now.”

“I’m not doing nothing.” He drawls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Think you missed my chin there..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not funny,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move,” you mutter.

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. can you do that for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wasn’t?” Yuzuha teases even more.

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhuh, right. Okay.”

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

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

“Emma. Swear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” You ask softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Emma, don’t even try to deny it.”

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

“Ugh, you’re no fun…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please, not now, not like this…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The fuck you looking at? Huh?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like it?”

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

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

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

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

“Bela Dimitrescu,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goddamnit,” you mutter under your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which is it then, huh, new girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re good at this,” he murmurs.

“I know a thing or two.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wrong. It’s eyeliner.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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lupinqs · 2 months ago

Text

CHAPTER FIVE ━━ Happy Halloween

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.8K

☆ ━ warnings: beau being a dick, vaping, dani’s still depressed as shit, like idk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i’m sorry this chapter is so messy and all over the place it’s lowkey my least favorite so far, but good things are coming i promise!!!!

HIS MOUTH presses against hers with an intensity that makes Dani stiffen. Beau kisses her with a hunger that she doesn’t feel, his hands cupping her face, fingers in her hair, deepening it. His lips are rough, insistent, like he’s trying to draw something out of her that she doesn’t want to give.

Dani kisses him back because she knows she should. She tries to match his urgency, his need. But it feels all wrong, like she’s wearing someone else’s skin. Her heart isn’t in the kiss, isn’t with Beau at all. It drifts to other places—another person—and she can’t shake the growing discomfort building in her chest.

Beau’s hands roam lower, sliding from her face to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he presses closer. The position is uncomfortable in the small confines of his car, and she shifts slightly. She thinks he takes that as an invitation, because he moves closer, his mouth trailing from her lips to her neck, kissing a path down to her collarbone, closer to her chest. The top she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination there, and he seems to like that. Dani’s breath hitches, body tensing. She isn’t here. She doesn’t want this.

But Beau doesn’t pay attention to the way her body recoils. He doesn’t notice how she stiffens under his touch. He’s too focused on his own need, his mouth feverish against her skin as he starts fumbling with the button of her jeans, eager to go further.

“Beau, stop,” Dani says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t stop. His hands are moving too fast, his breath hot and uneven against her neck as he presses harder to her.

“Beau, stop,” she repeats, more forceful this time, her hands pushing at his chest.

He ignores her, his hand still tugging at her jeans, more urgent now. “You can’t just keep doing this. We haven’t—” He pulls back just enough to look at her, frustration written all over his face. “You barely even let me kiss you anymore. What’s the point of us if you’re just gonna shut down every time I try to get close?”

She slaps at his hand now, and he finally retracts it. “I said stop,” she mumbles, breath quickening.

Beau sits back in his seat, his face darkening slightly. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, Dani. What the hell is your problem? We haven’t fucked in weeks. You won’t even touch me, and now this? What, do you not even want me anymore?” His voice grows louder, harsher with each word.

Dani stares at him, her chest tight, her hands trembling in her lap. She doesn’t have the words to explain it to him, can’t tell him how disgusted she feels with herself every time they’re together. How she feels like she’s living a lie, forcing herself into a relationship she doesn’t want, creating a life that isn’t meant to be hers. But all she can manage is a weak, “I just… I don’t feel like it, okay? Can’t you respect that?”

“Respect that?” Beau’s eyes narrow, and he scoffs, shaking his head. “How the hell am I supposed to respect that when you don’t give me anything to work with? I’ve been patient, Dani. I’ve tried to give you space. But I’m not one of your fucking Catholic saints. I have needs, too.”

Dani winces at his words, feeling the sting of guilt and shame twist in her stomach. She hates this, hates the way he makes it sound like she’s failing him by not being able to give him what he wanted. But at the same time, she hates herself more for letting it get this far—for pretending she can be someone she’s not.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Beau snaps, cutting her off. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for weeks now, Dani. You’re distant, you’re cold, you won’t even look me in the eyes half the time. If this is how it’s gonna be, then maybe we shouldn’t go to the Halloween party together tomorrow. Hell, maybe you shouldn’t come at all.”

Dani’s throat tightens, and she feels the hot prickle of tears burning behind her eyes. “Beau, I—”

“No.” His voice is sharp, final. “You need to figure your shit out. Because I can’t keep doing this.” He unlocks the car doors, staring at her expectantly. “Get out.”

Dani blinks, stunned, thinking she may have misheard. “What?”

“Get out of the car.” His eyes are hard, cold. “If you’re gonna be like this, then just… go. Walk home. Maybe that’ll give you time to think about what you really want.”

“Are you serious?” Dani’s snaps, looking at him in disbelief. They’re parked in some random lot, miles away from her house. It’s dark, and she has no way of getting home except by walking. She can’t even call someone to come pick her up, because her phone died a little bit ago.

“I said get out,” Beau repeats, his voice like ice.

Dani swallows hard, before scoffing, opening the passenger door. She steps out into the chilly night air, and, immediately, she wishes she brought a jacket, the small cropped shirt she’s got on not doing anything to shield the cold.

Before she can say anything else, Beau reaches over and slams the door shut from the inside. He speeds off, leaving her standing alone in the dark parking lot, the distant sound of his car’s engine fading into the night.

The silence around her is deafening. Dani stands frozen for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself as the cold wind bites at her skin. She blinks back the tears that blur her vision, the ones she desperately tried to keep in so that he couldn’t see them, her mind racing with thoughts of everything that led her to this moment.

She wants to scream. To sob. To fall apart. But there’s no one here to see it, no one to hear her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she starts walking.

PAIGE’S HANDS lazily hold the steering wheel as she drives down the empty, dim lit street, the hum of her car’s engine and the quiet voice of Drake the only sounds to keep her company. She’s just left Thaliah’s house after a low-key night spent playing Fortnite, and she’s thankful now that she finally has her license—no more relying on her friends or her dad for rides. The freedom is nice, the kind of feeling she’s been craving for a while.

As she continues driving along the road, something flickers at the edge of her vision, pulling her from her thoughts. A figure. A lone person walking down the sidewalk. Paige furrows her brows as she drives past, the figure just barely visible under the faint glow of the streetlamp. She turns her head a little, squinting as she stares at her side mirrors. All she really sees from that view is long hair blowing in the wind. A girl. It’s late—after midnight—and what girl would be stupid enough to be walking alone at this time?

Paige’s mind runs through the possibilities, but something gnaws at her. The silhouette looked familiar, like someone she knows. Someone with a very specific walk, a hunched posture, a familiar dip of the head, long hair…

No way. No fucking way.

She’s driven past already, but the doubt lingers in her mind, tugging at her. Paige’s hands hover over the wheel, her foot still on the gas as she debates with herself. But her gut is screaming—if it had vocal chords, they would be shredded by now. Because if it’s who she thinks it is, she can’t just leave it alone. She can’t ignore it.

With a frustrated groan, Paige quickly makes a sharp U-turn to go back the way she came. The street is dead silent, save for the crunch of her tires on the pavement. As she nears the figure again, her heart rate speeds up. Please don’t let it be her. Please don’t let it be Dani.

But as she slows down, pulling up alongside the sidewalk, her breath catches in her throat. She should’ve known all along, shouldn’t have even questioned herself. Because consciously, subconsciously, in any way possible—Paige always knows Dani. She can pick her out in any crowd, so doing it on a deserted street isn’t so hard. And she’s very right, because this is Dani. Walking alone. And it’s cold as hell out, too. She’s wearing nothing but ripped jeans and a cropped t-shirt. What the fuck is she doing?

Paige slows to a stop, rolling down the passenger window. Dani immediately stiffens, her head whipping toward the car, eyes wide. Paige leans over, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Dani, what’re you doing?” she asks, her voice sharp with concern and an edge of accusation.

Dani stares at her in disbelief, her brows knitting together in surprise. “Fuck, I thought you were some old man about to kidnap me,” she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind whips through the air.

Paige rolls her eyes, the tension easing from her chest just a bit. “No, I’m not gonna kidnap you,” she says flatly. “But someone else fucking might. Get in the car.”

Dani hesitates, her gaze flicking between Paige and the road ahead. Her lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, Paige thinks she might refuse. There’s a tension in Dani’s stance, a stubbornness that Paige knows all too well.

“Dani, seriously,” Paige presses, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “It’s freezing out. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

Dani sighs, a puff of visible breath in the chilly air, before muttering, “Fine.” She reaches for the door handle, and with a click, the door swings open, and Dani slides into the passenger seat.

Paige immediately turns the heat up, casting a quick glance at Dani. Her arms are crossed, her shoulders hunched, and Paige can see her shivering, despite the attempt to seem unbothered. Paige’s chest tightens with concern as she wonders what the hell could’ve happened to land Dani in this situation.

For a few moments, the car is filled with an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the heater kicking in. Paige tries to focus on the road, but her mind races with a million questions on why Dani’s out here in the first place, why she was walking all alone in the dark as a teenager girl that most certainly could not defend herself should a kidnapper find her.

“What were you doing out there?” Paige finally asks, her voice more gentle this time, though still laced with concern. “Why are you out this late by yourself?”

Dani shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles, her voice flat, detached.

Paige frowns, tightening her grip on the wheel. “It’s not nothing. It’s past midnight, and you’re walking around in the cold like it’s the middle of the day. What happened?” she presses, sending a glance at her ex-best friend.

Dani stays silent for a moment, then scoffs lightly, turning to look at Paige. “When’d you get your license? I thought you couldn’t drive?”

Paige rolls her eyes, biting back her frustration. “Don’t change the subject, Dani.”

Dani shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, her arms tightening around her body like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Just… drop it, Paige,” she replies, dismissive.

Paige exhales sharply, shifting her eyes over at her again. Dani’s walls are up, higher than ever. It isn’t like her to be this closed off with Paige. Or, at least, it hadn’t been like this before… before everything went sideways between them. No matter how much she hates it, Paige supposes she should get used to it—this is their new normal, after all.

“I’m not dropping it,” Paige shoots back, keeping her voice steady. “Not when I find you walking around alone at night looking like…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence without pushing too far.

Dani’s jaw clenches. “Like what?” she snaps, her eyes flashing with an edge of anger.

“Like you’re not okay,” Paige says, softer now, her eyes darting between Dani and the road. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani lets out a harsh breath, her fingers digging into her arms as she stares out the window. “I’m fine, Paige. Seriously.”

Paige doesn’t buy it for a second. Not with the way Dani’s sitting there, tense and cold and distant and—no matter how much she tries to hide it—vulnerable.

“Fine? Really? Because it sure doesn’t look like it,” Paige mutters. She knows she’s walking a fine line—at this point, Paige is probably the last person Dani wants to open up to right now, and pushing her too hard could make her shut down even more. But Paige can’t just sit there and pretend like everything is okay when it clearly isn’t.

Dani shakes her head again, more forcefully this time. “I’m fine. I just—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip, like she doesn’t even believe her own words.

Paige isn’t sure what it is, but something about Dani’s demeanor—the way she’s hunched over, trying to make herself disappear—makes her feel sick. Dani’s so different from the girl Paige used to know. Something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong for months now.

“Did Beau do something?” Paige asks quietly. It’s probably not the long term issue, the reason for the girl’s whole switch up, but Paige thinks it damn well could be the reason Dani’s in this situation tonight—and the thought makes the blonde’s stomach sick.

Dani stiffens immediately at the name. That reaction tells Paige everything she needs to know.

Nonetheless, Dani’s laugh is bitter, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet car. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Paige’s heart drops, her pulse quickening. “Dani…”

But Dani turns her head away, staring out the window like she can’t bear to look at Paige anymore. “Just drive me home, okay?”

Paige hesitates, her throat tight, but eventually, she nods, pressing her foot down on the gas. The tension in the car is palpable, and Paige hates it—hates the silence, hates the distance between them. But she feels like she’s exhausted all she can do to try and repair it between them, so she leaves it be, and turns up the music just slightly.

The road stretches out ahead, leading them back toward their neighborhood, toward the familiarity of home. But as the houses grow closer, Paige can’t shake the feeling that something is just deeply wrong. And this isn’t just about tonight. It isn’t just about Dani walking alone in the dark.

This is about everything that’s happened between them—everything that’s changed since Dani was sent to that camp over the summer. Since Dani had come back different. Closed off. Dani hasn’t been the same since she returned, and even though Paige doesn’t know the full story—well, doesn’t even know an ounce of if, actually—she can still feel the weight of it.

Paige glances over at Dani once more, but Dani’s back to staring out the window, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. In spite of everything, Dani’s still shivering, and Paige knows it’s not from the cold—the heat has surrounded her car by now. It’s about everything else.

They turn down their street, the familiar houses coming into view, bathed in the soft glow of porch lights. Paige can see her house up ahead, just a few doors down from Dani’s. Normally, this is where they’d share a goodbye, a see-you-later. But nothing is normal anymore.

Paige slows as they near Dani’s house, and for a moment, she considers just pulling into her own driveway, since their houses are right next to each other. But something stops her. Even if they live right next door, this still feels different. Dani needs more from her than just a quick drop-off. Paige needs to make sure Dani knows she’s not alone, even if she can’t fix whatever’s going on.

So, she pulls into Dani’s driveway instead, parking right next to Dani’s car. Paige’s car idles for a second, the engine’s soft hum the only sound between them. Paige shifts in her seat, looking over at Dani, who still hadn’t moved.

“You’re home,” Paige says quietly, breaking the silence.

Dani finally tears her eyes away from the window and sets her eyes on Paige, her expression guarded, tired. For a second, Paige thinks Dani’s just going to get out without a word, like every other time they’ve had one of these stilted, painful interactions. But then, Dani surprises her.

Dani shifts in her seat, turning slightly so she can look at Paige more directly. Her eyes soften, just for a moment, as she holds the blonde’s gaze. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice low but sincere. “For picking me up.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change in Dani’s tone. There’s no anger, no sarcasm, no bitterness in her voice. It’s raw, earnest. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Paige sees a glimpse of the old Dani—the one who didn’t have walls up between them. The one who trusted her.

Paige nods, unable to find her voice for a second. “Yeah. Of course,” she manages to say, her heart aching at how much she misses that side of Dani. The side that isn’t buried under layers of pain and fear.

Dani lingers for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face, like there’s something she wants to say but can’t find the words. Then, without another word, she reaches for the door handle and steps out of the car. Paige watches as Dani walks toward her front door, her shoulders hunched against the cold, but there’s something softer in her movements now. Something less defensive.

Paige stays in the car, watching as Dani unlocks her door and steps inside, the porch light flickering off as the door clicks shut behind her. The house swallows her up, and Paige is left sitting there in the quiet, her mind racing with everything that’s just happened.

It isn’t much. A simple thank you. But it’s the first real crack in the wall Dani’s built between them, and Paige can’t help but hold on to that. Maybe it’s a start.

She sighs softly, leaning back in her seat for a moment before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the driveway. As she makes her way back to her own house, just a few yards away, Paige can’t shake the feeling that things are far from okay between them. But for the first time in a long time, she feels like maybe there’s hope.

And for now, that’s enough.

PAIGE SITS cross-legged on Thaliah’s bed, absentmindedly picking at the hem of her shirt, while Jalen lounges next to her, scrolling through his phone. Both of them are already dressed in their costumes, though neither put in much effort. Paige went the simple route—she’s wearing an old basketball jersey with some fake blood smeared across her face, playing the part of some sort of dead or zombie hooper—she doesn’t even really know herself, if she’s honest. Jalen wears a black hoodie and he’s got a plastic scythe, calling himself the Grim Reaper. Basic, but effective.

Thaliah, on the other hand, is still in front of her vanity, meticulously applying the finishing touches to her makeup. She’s going all out, dressed as a witch, complete with dramatic eye shadow, dark lipstick, and glitter cascading along her cheekbones. Her hair is done up in some complicated updo, and Paige is sure Thaliah will be the best dressed person at the party. As usual.

Paige leans back, resting on her hands, eyes distant as she vents, her voice low but agitated. “I just don’t get it. Like, why the hell would Dani even doing out there last night? Alone? She was walking by herself literally at twelve-thirty, J. She could’ve gotten kidnapped or murdered or—or something!” Her voice wavered with frustration and disbelief, and she glances at Jalen, hoping he’ll give some sort of input.

Jalen shrugs a little, tossing his phone aside and turning toward her. His brows are furrowed in the way they are only when he’s concerned. “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ weird, P. Did you ask her what happened?”

Paige lets out a sigh, her frustration evident. “Of course I did. She just brushed it off, said it was ‘nothing’—like that’s supposed to make me feel better about it.” She throws her hands up in the air, expressing the confusion she’s feeling. “And I swear, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She was, like, literally freezing and she looked so sad and I’m just like—what the hell happened?”

Thaliah, still working on her eyeliner, chimes in from the vanity, not looking up but clearly listening. “Dani’s been distant for months, Paige. It’s been off ever since she got back from camp. I don’t think it’s just about last night. Something’s been wrong for a while now.”

Paige nods, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jersey. “I know. But last night just made it so much more real. I feel like—I don’t know—I feel like something happened. Maybe it was Beau. Maybe he did something to her.”

At that, Jalen’s eyes narrow slightly. He’s always quick to jump to conclusions when it comes to Beau Hudson, a guy that he’s had problems with for years now. “You think he hurt her? I mean, he is the type.”

Paige bites her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities. “I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not like Dani would tell me, though. She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

There’s a long pause as all three of them sit in the heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They’s all thinking the same thing—what the hell happened to Dani? The girl they all knew so well has practically disappeared, replaced by someone colder, someone more distant, someone more shallow.

Thaliah finally puts down her eyeliner, spinning around in her chair to face them. “Something’s definitely up with her. But I don’t think it’s Beau that’s the main problem. I mean, she started acting like this before she and that bitch boy got together. Paige, I know you weren’t here when it happened, but she started dating Beau after she cut J and I off,” Thaliah points out, staring at the pair of her friend son the bed expectantly. But then she sighs, shaking her head, adding, “But if she’s not talking, what are we supposed to do? Just keep watching her spiral and probably ruin her life? Like, I don’t even know.”

Paige clenches her jaw, her mind racing with the memory of Dani walking along that dark sidewalk, looking so alone, so vulnerable. “I don’t want to just sit back and do nothing.” But she knows Thaliah is right—there’s really not much they can do if Dani won’t give them the light of day.

Thaliah shakes her head a little before standing up and moving toward her bed, where Paige and Jalen sit. She grabs her vape off the nightstand and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a cloud that lingers in the air before dissipating. “Look, Dani’s been different for a while, but we can’t fix it tonight. We can’t fix her tonight.”

Paige frowns, her stomach sinking at those words. Fix her. It isn’t like Dani’s broken, but she isn’t herself either. Still, she understands what Thaliah is saying. She just doesn’t like it.

Thaliah hands the vape to Paige, raising her eyebrows when Paige hesitates before taking it. “C’mon, you need to relax. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be having fun, not stressing out over all this. Dani’s a tomorrow problem.”

Paige rolls her eyes but accepts the vape anyway, taking a small hit and handing it back. The familiar burn fills her lungs for a moment before she exhales, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. “I just hate that we don’t know what’s going on with her.”

Jalen sits up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure it out, P. We just have to give her time. Maybe tonight, she’ll show up at the party, and we can talk to her then.”

Thaliah shakes her head, leaning back against her vanity. “Doubt it. She’s been avoiding us for weeks. Even if she shows, it’ll be with Hudson and that prissy Serena girl, and it’ll end in shit like it did last time.”

Paige knows Thaliah’s probably right. They’ve gone to the same parties a couple times since school started, and each time, Dani stays closed to Beau Hudson and Serena Corren’s sides, not bothering to give any attention to Paige. The odds of her suddenly showing up and deciding to speak to them at tonight’s Halloween thing seems slim. Still, Paige can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, Dani will surprise her.

Thaliah takes another drag from the vape before offering it back to Paige, who takes another hit, letting the smoke relax her nerves just a bit. “But seriously,” Thaliah says as she exhales, “tonight’s about us. Let’s just have fun, forget about all the drama, and worry about Dani tomorrow. It’s Halloween! We deserve a good night.”

Paige smiles faintly, nodding. Thaliah’s right. Tonight is supposed to be fun. Maybe she can take a break from worrying for one night. Maybe.

And, she thinks maybe she really actually can, because the party does turn out to be fun. It’s a lot different from the last party she went to, the one where she drank herself stupid and fought Beau Hudson. She doesn’t regret the second part… just thinks she could’ve found a better way to do it. But tonight, she’s the designated driver, meaning she’s sticking to her Sprite, laying off the alcohol. But it doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t need to drink to have fun with her friends—especially on Halloween.

The house is decked out for Halloween—fake spider webs hanging from the ceiling, carved pumpkins in every corner, and purple lights casting shadows along the walls. Most people are dressed in costumes, though a lot are half-assed like Paige and Jalen’s. Paige gets a laugh out of a guy dressed in a banana costume, dancing on a table, though.

Eventually, Paige, Jalen, and Thaliah settle in the living room, perching on the couches and standing with some of their other friends from school and basketball and such. It’s easy, it’s fun, the atmosphere is lively but not chaotic. Paige enjoys it.

That is, until out of the corner of her eye, she spots them.

Beau Hudson, Serena Corren, and the rest of that group Dani’s been hanging around with lately are clustered near the kitchen, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Paige’s stomach tightens, her eyes scanning the group for one specific person. Dani. But as she searches, she realizes with a sinking feeling that Dani isn’t here.

Paige narrows her eyes slightly, confused. Dani’s always with them—whenever Beau and his friends show up to a party, the girl’s practically glued to his side. But tonight, she’s nowhere around.

Paige glances over at Thaliah, who’s too busy chatting with some girls to notice her. So, the blonde taps Jalen on the shoulder, nodding toward Beau and his friends. “Hudson’s here,” she acknowledges.

Jalen follows her gaze, rolling his eyes. “Dick,” he mutters, his disdain for the quarterback evident. He stares at the group for a second longer before Paige watches a familiar flicker of confusion cross along his face. “Dani’s not with ‘em?”

Paige shakes her head, mind racing. It’s so weird. Ever since Dani started dating Beau, they‘be been almost inseparable, especially at parties like this. But now, Dani just… gone. And it doesn’t sit right with Paige. Especially not after what happened last night.

However, before she can dwell on it too long, nature calls. She needs to pee. Paige stands up, muttering something to Jalen about finding the bathroom. As she makes her way through the crowded house, her mind stays locked on the thought of the Callan girl. Maybe Paige is just being dramatic. Maybe Dani is here and she just hasn’t seen her and she’s worrying for no reason.

When she finally finds the hallway leading to the bathroom, she groans. There’s a line.

And the person standing at the back of the line? None other than Beau Hudson himself.

Paige’s eyes narrow as she approaches, trying to play it casual. She leans against the wall, taking Thaliah’s vape out of her pocket and bringing it to her lips. She inhales, letting the vapor fill her lungs as she stares at the back of Beau’s head. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she waits a beat before speaking.

“Dani here?” she asks, her tone nonchalant.

Beau turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. His expression is somewhere between annoyed and smug, like he can’t be bothered with her question. “Nope,” he replies shortly, turning back to face the bathroom door as if that’s the end of the conversation.

But Paige isn’t done. She presses, “How come?”

Beau scoffs, a low, bitter sound that grates on Paige’s nerves. “You’re fuckin’ nosy, Bueckers,” he mutters, barely looking at her.

Paige raises an eyebrow, not backing down. “Well, when it comes to Dani, yeah. I am.” Her voice is sharp, but controlled. She isn’t about to let him dismiss her like that.

Beau finally turns to face her fully, his expression twisted with irritation. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re not even friends anymore.”

Paige clenches her jaw, holding his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

For a moment, there’s a tense silence between them, the music and chatter from the party seeming distant in comparison to the charged atmosphere in the hallway. Paige can feel her heart racing, could feel the anger bubbling under the surface.

Beau breaks the silence first, rolling his eyes as if he can’t be bothered with her anymore. “She’s probably rotting in her bedroom right now. I told her not to come.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the harshness in his voice. “What? Why?”

Beau shrugs, leaning casually against the wall as if what he’s saying is no big deal. Which, to him, it probably isn’t. “She’s been a bitch lately. Told her to stay home.”

Paige’s grip on the vape tightens as a rush of anger surges through her. She hates him. She hates how he talks about Dani like that, like she’s just some inconvenience instead of his girlfriend. The same girlfriend he’s never deserved.

The same girlfriend that Paige picked up in the middle of the night last night.

Her gaze slides to Beau, and before she can stop herself, the words are out of her mouth. “Did you do something to Dani last night?”

Beau’s head snaps toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His tone is defensive, a little too defensive for someone who’s supposedly innocent.

Paige doesn’t back down, her pulse quickening as the frustration bubbles to the surface. “Last night,” she repeats, her voice steady. “I found her walking home alone in the middle of the night. She wouldn’t even tell me what was going on. So I’m asking you, Beau—did you leave her out there?”

Beau’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening as he stands up straighter, his arms dropping to his sides. “Are you seriously accusing me of something?” he snaps, his voice low and threatening. “I didn’t leave her anywhere.”

Paige scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares him down. “Then why was she out there, alone? She looked like she’d been crying.”

Beau rolls his eyes, but there’s something uneasy in the way he shifts on his feet, something that makes Paige’s stomach twist. “I don’t know, Paige. Maybe she was crying because she’s a fucking mess lately.”

Paige’s eyes flash with anger. “She’s a mess? You’re her boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, give a shit?”

Beau’s lips curl into a sneer. “You don’t know anything about our relationship, so maybe you should keep your nose out of it.”

Paige takes a step closer, her voice lowering as she looks down on him ever so slightly—having those couple inches on him. “I know enough to know something’s wrong with her. She’s not herself, and you’re just standing here acting like you don’t care.”

Beau’s face hardens, and for a second, Paige thinks he might actually shove her away. They’ve had a physical fight before—what’s another one? But instead, he takes a step back, exhaling sharply as he glares at her. “You think this is my fault? You think I’m the one who’s making her act like this? You have no idea what she’s like, Bueckers. You only ever saw the good parts of her.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t flinch. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she reports.

Beau huffs out a humorless laugh, his gaze flicking to the bathroom door as it remains stubbornly closed. “It means that she’s been a bitch lately, okay? Just like I said before. Moody as hell. I’m not her fuckin’ babysitter, like, Jesus Christ.”

Paige feels her hands clench into fists at her sides. “So you’re just going to leave her to deal with whatever’s going on by herself? Real classy, Hudson.”

Before Beau can respond, the bathroom door swings open, and a couple stumbles out, laughing drunkenly and clinging to each other. Paige shoots them a disgusted look—God only knows what they had been doing in there. Beau takes advantage of the distraction, slipping past her and heading straight for the open bathroom.

Before he disappears inside, he shoots Paige one last glance, his expression dark and full of resentment. “Stay out of it, Paige.”

The door slams shut behind him, leaving Paige standing in the hallway, her heart racing with anger and confusion. She leans against the wall, lifting Thaliah’s vape to her lips and taking another long drag, the vapor filling her lungs as she tries to calm herself down.

Stay out of it? He’s fucking stupid if he thinks that’ll stop her from doing anything.

She exhales slowly, her mind still spinning with everything that just happened. Beau’s words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, but more than that, they leave her with an even deeper sense of worry for Dani. There’s something wrong, and Beau either doesn’t know how to handle it or simply doesn’t care enough to try.

Paige closes her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall as the sound of the party buzzes around her. Halloween is Dani’s favorite holiday. Dani’s always, always loved it, always got excited about dressing up, about watching horror movies and going to parties with their friends. She and Paige have done coordinating costumes every year since forever. But this year? Dani’s sitting at home, probably miserable by the sound of things, and Paige wants to help. To do anything to help.

She takes another drag, and thinks.

DANI LAYS on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room pressing down on her. Halloween has always been her favorite day of the year, the one she looks forward to the most. But tonight, it feels hollow. She glances around her bedroom—dimly lit, the shadows from her string lights casting a soft glow on the walls. It’s quiet, too quiet, and that’s the problem. Her friends are all probably at a party somewhere, dressed up in ridiculous costumes, laughing, drinking, having the time of their lives.

But she isn’t there. Not with Beau and Serena and everyone else she was meant to go out with tonight.

And certainly not with Paige and Thaliah and Jalen, who she’s spent every Halloween with for years.

The thought stings like an open wound. Halloween’s always been something she and Paige share—whether it was sneaking candy at sleepovers when they were younger or staying up late to watch horror movies that terrified them both, or—more recently—attending the dumbest parties and getting shit-faced. But this year, Dani’s alone, cut off from everything and everyone that once made her feel like herself.

She lets out a long sigh, sitting up in bed. She decides to be masochistic, and pulls one of her old scrapbooks from her the drawer in her bedside table. This is so stupid, she thought, thumbing through the pages. She hasn’t added to it in months, not since before everything changed. Not since her dad sent her to that place. She flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the scrawled handwriting, the cut photos, the scattered tape, reliving bits and pieces of her old life—laughing with Thaliah, playing (and losing) basketball with Jalen, sneaking out with Paige, pretending nothing could ever come between them.

Before camp. Before everything got fucked up.

Her heart clenches as she turns to an old picture tucked between the pages. It’s the two of them—her and Paige. Taken last Halloween, in matching costumes they’d thrown together at the last minute. Dani smiles faintly at the memory, the way Paige had made her laugh so hard that night she thought she’d never catch her breath. It had been one of the best nights of her life, but now it feels like a lifetime ago, like it belongs to a different version of her—a version of Dani that no longer exists.

Dani’s throat tightens as the memories overwhelmed her. She drops the scrapbook on the bed and covers her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling. I still love her. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, the words echoing in her mind over and over. She loves Paige. She always has. But it feels so impossible now, so wrong, so tainted. After everything that’s happened, after the months apart, after the cold distance between them, after everything that’s been cemented into Dani’s head, how can they ever get back to what they used to be?

Tears blur Dani’s vision as she buries her face in her hands, her body shaking with quiet sobs. She wants to be the girl she used to be—the carefree, happy, whole version of herself that hadn’t been shattered by her father’s cruelty, by the camp, by the guilt that now consumes her every waking thought. She wants to go back to the way things were before her mind became warped and twisted by everything she‘a been forced to believe.

But she can’t. She doesn’t know how.

She cries until her chest aches, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She feels like she’s drowning, and there’s no one there to pull her out of the deep end. She’s lost so much—her friends, her sense of self, her relationship with Paige. Who is she now? She doesn’t even know anymore.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the empty house, pulling Dani out of her thoughts. She wipes at her tear-streaked face, frowning as she glances at the clock on her nightstand. It’s way too late for trick-or-treaters, and no one else os home. Her dad is out for the night, and the house has been dead quiet for hours.

Confused, Dani gets up from her bed, pulling on her hoodie as she makes her way downstairs. The doorbell rings again just as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, and she hesitates for a moment before opening the door.

The porch is empty.

Dani blinks, her heart racing as she stepped outside and glances around. There was no one in sight—just the dark, empty street in front of her house. She thinks maybe it’s just some stupid Halloween prank until she looks down. There’s a small basket sitting on the porch, filled with Twix and Sour Patch Kids and Snickers—all of her favorite candies. Her breath catches in her throat as she crouches down, her fingers trembling as she picks it up.

Sitting on top of the candy is a folded note.

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest as she opens the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting:

Dan,

Please know that if you ever need to talk to anyone, I am always here for you. I hope this basket makes your Halloween a little better.

P <3

Dani’s vision blurs with tears again, but this time, they aren’t necessarily tears of sadness. They’re something else—something warmer, softer. Paige left this for her. Paige went out of her way to make sure Dani wasn’t completely alone tonight.

She clutches the note to her chest, her heart aching in a way that feels both painful and comforting all at once. Paige has always been there for her, even now, even when everything is so broken, so different. Dani stands on the porch for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she stares down at the basket.

She lets herself be a little optimistic. She thinks that maybe not everything is lost.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn wbb #uconn #wbb #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #wcbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #hopkins p fic #take me to church #wlw

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daycourtofficial · 1 year ago

Text

Training Day

Summary: you ask Azriel to help you demonstrate some moves for training and it very quickly changes things

Author’s note: yeah this one just took on a life of it’s own I guess? Anyway, it’s lots of fun

“Can I use you tomorrow during the demonstration?”

Azriel looks up from his paperwork. The two of you were working in the library, a place you find yourselves most nights. You both enjoy working simultaneously - whether you both have paperwork, research, or personal reading. Most nights were spent on a secluded floor of the library. You two are down here so frequently, Clotho has stopped asking you to return the furniture the way it was, just allowing you two to use this space as your own sanctuary.

“I need a body to use when I’m showing the girls how to defend against an opponent,” you elaborate, and Azriel can’t help but notice a faint blush across your cheeks.

Azriel chuckles, but nods. He can’t say no to helping the priestesses, and he certainly can’t say no to you.

You two return to your previous attentions - you to your book, and him to his paperwork, which he finds much less interesting than you.

It started by the two of you using a table and chairs to work, but you had complained about reading for so long in the chair, that you rearranged the furniture so a table was pulled up to the couch you two are sitting on.

These nights started with you two across the table from each other, and tonight Azriel feels your toes pressing against his thigh, trying to form an entrance underneath his leg. You two now sit on the same couch, more often than not touching in some small capacity. The most recent nights start with you toeing your feet against his thigh, until he eventually grabs legs, sliding you down the couch, and placing your legs across his lap, draping his arms over them. When he’s feeling extra bold, or extra sleepy, he finds himself drawing patterns on your calves with his hands.

“Goooood morning!” You chirp to the priestesses, Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel. Azriel left the morning part of training early to bring you up for your demonstration and to talk to the preistesses and Nesta.

They all looked tired and out of breath, no doubt due to Cassian’s training.

“You can all sit for my demonstration. That way I become your favorite teacher.” You smile, eliciting a huff from Cassian.

“First, I want to say that while Cassian and Azriel are great teachers, there is one aspect to training that they cannot grasp. They do not understand what it’s like to be smaller than most of your enemies, to be at least 50 pounds lighter than most of your opponents.” You glance around, and the priestesses seem to be receptive, so you continue.

“Which is why I’m here. Cassian can spend 100 years teaching you proper balance, proper techniques, proper stances. But those things mean nothing if you cannot contextualize what you need to take down an opponent.”

“So today, we’ll be doing a little walkthrough of a fight. My opponent will be Azriel. The goal for today is for us to walk through, step by step, of a fight, and win. So, let’s start by thinking: what are some things that I need to think about when I’m facing Azriel. We don’t know anything about him, we don’t know who he is. We know what we can see, sans shadows. Most opponents won’t have control over shadows, so I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sit the demonstration out.”

With that, his shadows retreat, looking as if they too were looking to sit and watch the demonstration. Azriel doesn’t think about the fact that he didn’t tell them to leave, that they listened to you, not even seeking his approval for the command.

“So, what do I notice about my opponent?”

Gwyn speaks up, “he’s much taller than you.”

Another priestess speaks up, “he’s unarmed.”

“He has wings.” “He’s wearing protective leathers.”

You interrupt them. “All good observations. He’s bigger than I am, unarmed, but protected. These are all important notes when facing an opponent. So, what should I do first?”

Someone immediately yells, “kick him!” You’re pretty sure it was Cassian, but you let it slide. “Where am I aiming my kick?” You ask to the crowd. “His head!” You hear Nesta call back.

“Do we think that is the best course of action?” They all nod, you’re unsure if it’s just because they want to watch you kick their teacher, but you swing your leg out, aiming for his head, holding it right next to him when you ask, “why would this not be the best tactic for me?”

There’s a pause, then Emerie speaks up, “your foot won’t make contact with his head.”

While still holding your leg in the air, mere centimeters from his face, you pull a small chocolate from your pocket and throw it to Emerie. “Correct! I can’t make perfect contact, is there any other problem?”

Gwyn yells out, “you’re vulnerable to be pushed!” You throw another chocolate. “Excellent! Yes, since all my weight is on one leg, he could easily” you prompt, alerting Azriel to his next move. He simply pushes you a little, making you lose balance, “make me lose my footing.”

You stand back up and brush the dirt off.

“If I’m going to execute a move that leaves me vulnerable, I need to be very sure that I can execute it. My legs are not long enough to do so. And our opponents will not stoop down so I can attack them.”

Azriel crouches just a smidge, where if your leg were still in the air you’d be able to connect it to his face.

“When the odds are against you in a fight, you need to even the playing field. Do anything you can to subdue your enemy. A tactic I use frequently is messing with their senses. May I?” You ask Azriel. He nods, curious where this is going.

“My height might be considered a disadvantage, but it allows me to move faster and with more ease than larger opponents like Cassian.”

He rolls his eyes, ready to retort back, but you’ve started talking again. “Showing this in slow mo won’t give you a great idea, and it’s a bit more difficult to do, but here’s what I do. I use my opponents height to their disadvantage.

You plant your right foot on his left thigh. “What do small creatures do? They climb. So I plant one foot on a thigh, and use momentum to swing my other leg onto their shoulder.” As you say this, you swing your left leg over his right shoulder, him holding your right leg planted on his leg so you can move.

“from here, I have one leg secured to a shoulder, so I use that planting to bring up my other leg,” doing as you say, bringing your right leg onto his other shoulder, your legs holding onto his shoulders.

Azriel can’t breathe with you so close to him like this. Do you have any idea the effect this is having on him? How close you are to his face, to his mouth? He’s dreamed of having you like this, pressing you into a wall while he devours you like it’s his last meal.

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, reminding him of where he is. “From here, I bring both of my fists out wide, gaining as much speed as I can before coming down on my opponent’s ears. This impact will leave their ears ringing, and could disrupt their balance if done hard enough.” You mime the motion, but only lightly hit his ears.

“Then I grab their face,” you say, holding the right side of his jaw, “and I smash my palm as hard as I can into their nose.”

Azriel knew you weren’t going to, but he could think of no better way to go than at your hands while your legs are wrapped around his neck.

You start to uncoil yourself from him, and it takes all of his self control to help you get your feet back on the ground. You start explaining why jabbing a palm through a nose is a good idea. The priestesses didn’t seem to think anything of you being on top of him like that, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cassian’s shit eating grin. He glances in his brother’s direction, wanting him to knock it off before he scares off their trainees, but Cassian mouths the words “loverboy” to him, while kissing the air, before pretending he was paying attention to you the whole time.

Your demonstration goes on for a bit longer, you and Azriel having a pseudofight that the priestesses eventually walk you through how to win. You have him pinned to the ground, and their cheers are so loud you’d think you had slain a dragon instead of taking him down.

You’re positively glowing at their praise, and the fact that this method of teaching actually worked. Before he could grow too accustomed to your weight on his chest, you get off of him, offering a hand to help him up, which he gladly accepts.

“Thank you for letting me beat you up today,” you giggle, as the priestesses start heading back toward the library, leaving you and Azriel behind.

He laughs, thinking about his next words, “how could anyone say no to letting you straddle their face and pinning them down?”

Your cheeks are on fire. The two of you were something, you just didn’t know what. On top of spending most days together, you two flirted constantly, once prompting Feyre to throw you in a cold fountain to cool you off.

But flirting was words, and these words were based in real actions you took. Sure it was to show the priestesses some defense moves, and maybe you had some ulterior motives, but you can’t pretend you didn’t enjoy seeing his face between your legs, even if you two were fully clothed in a self-defense seminar.

You were done with flirting that led nowhere, and before you can think about them the words are out of your mouth, “so if I asked you to do it again, with less witnesses and less clothing?”

You physically watch him shudder, at first you’re afraid you went too far, but then he leans down into your ear and whispers, “don’t make offers if you don’t want to follow through.”

You two have been dancing around whatever is between you two for too long, you think. The gentle nights spent in the library, the constant flirting. You spend more time with him than anyone. You’re terrified to move forward, but then you meet his eyes.

They’re full of lust, yes, but there’s an incredible warmth there. A softness, reserved just for you. He always looks at you with delicacy, as if you held his world and too harsh of a stare would break you.

You grab his neck, pulling him down to you as you kiss him. The first thing you feel is his wings wrapping around you, providing you privacy from the world, even though you’re alone in the training area.

Your hands clutch at his face, and your lips cover his, moving in tandem, as if your lips have found the place they belong.

His hands grab your ass, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You’re so caught up in the kiss and the heat of it that you don’t even realize he winnowed you two into his room.

You hardly take note of the room, just taking in his smell, his taste, his warmth. You’re not sure how long you guys are kissing, thinking of nothing but the way his hands feel holding you, amazed you two are still wearing any clothes, let alone being fully dressed, when you hear a cough.

You two break away very reluctantly, to see a very smug Cassian standing ten feet away.

“You,” he points directly to you, “owe me $50. Pay up.”

“Now?” You ask incredulously, your hair moving as you whip your head to glare at the intruder.

“Yes, now. It’s my money, and I earned it fair and square.”

Azriel’s confusion shown all over his face, you covered your face in your hands while Cassian says, “I bet her $50 that if she had you help with her demonstration and got on your shoulders like that, you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself.”

“I- um - I didn’t know how to make the first move,” you say meekly, “and he seemed so sure of this working.”

You were so concerned he’d be mad that you manipulated this situation, but Azriel, while still holding you, tells Cassian, “I’ll give you $100 if you leave and don’t let anyone disturb us for a week.”

Cassian, always ready to make a quick buck, quickly agrees and scuttles out of the room, closing the door on his way.

“How do you go from not knowing how to make the first move to doing that?” Azriel asks, amusement shining on his face.

“Well, I thought my shameless flirting wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I had to take more drastic measures.”

He roars in laughter, and you can feel the vibrations through his chest. “You’ve always had my attention,” he says, looking at you the way a predator would, “but now you have my undivided attention. And I just paid a hefty fee to get us some time away from everyone.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you giggle, holding onto him tighter, “oh no, a whole week with no distractions, whatever shall we do?” You ask, trying to sound distressed, but your giggles give you away.

“I think I stopped paying attention during your presentation, do you want to remind me again about depriving your opponent of their senses with your legs?”

You throw your head back in laughter, and he tilts your head down to capture your laugh in his kiss.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #honestly I thought this was just precious

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eevees-hobbies · 3 months ago

Note

i can NOOOOT get *your* suo out of my head like, i gotta ask a question abt him,, ok so we know he likes to share his yummy gfs pussy but does this include without permission 👀 like say she comes home and surprises him with her pussy already creampied by someone else (and making him guess who by the taste ughhhh), would he be more upset or turned on? Im just wondering where they draw the line bc we know suo has all the power 😍. Or like how did he even bring up sharing her first, what a conversation to be had lol!

I sent a rq under this name but im 🍒 anon btw!!

Hi, 🍒 Anon! I love your mind and that you can’t stop thinking about Suo because that’s precisely how he’d like you–as obsessed with him as he is with you! And, yes, I’ve seen your other ask! I’m hoarding it until I can give it the attention it deserves! I may have written a scenario below to answer your question. I am so sorry!! I am sometimes not good at being brief, but I always get super into anything involving Suo because deep down, this man has me in a-.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo. Togame remains the villain in my fics (sorry, sweet boy!). Cheating by anyone else standards but consented infidelity by Reader and Suo’s (they match each other’s freak), cuckolding for Endo and Sugi, one instance of a smack to the thigh, dirty talk, degradation, dacryphilia, Suo knows you better than yourself, be prepared to hear Suo's inner thoughts because he is stressed, obsessive/worshipping kind of love, pussy inspection with fingers, cum eating, mentions of threesomes. Tis smut! Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2K

Story banner by me. Divider by Saradkia

Now, let's get into it, myes? You have some great questions about Suo and his girlfriend, who are an interesting couple. I think that some Wind Breaker men are built so differently that eating another man’s cum out of their girlfriend’s pussy would seem appealing or something that they would consider.

Endo, for example, is spreading you open and wide to lap Takiishi’s cum out of your sloppy, abused cunt without a second thought. In fact, he thinks you’re at your most delicious when Takiishi has already had his fun with you, and he eagerly takes his seat between your thighs to taste his favorite person and his girlfriend.

Sugishita isn’t necessarily into sharing, but he wouldn’t fault you if you were enamored by Umemiya—because, duh, why wouldn’t you be? It doesn’t strike him as odd that you let Umemiya hit it raw, and of course, Sugishita would be more than willing to help clean you up with his tongue.

But Suo? Yeah, sharing you doesn’t bother him in the slightest—your pleasure is his pleasure after all, but he’d much prefer to take a supporting or leading role in your sexual liaisons with his friends. That’s why I have always written them as engaging in the pleasures of the flesh together because Suo needs to be with you as you experience every ounce of pleasure–you two, after all, are simply one-half of the same beating heart.

The idea of you getting fucked by anyone and him not being present to watch does not sit right with his soul.

He needs to be there to provide instructions to your lover because he knows your pleasure better than anyone else–including you–ever could. He needs to be there to deliver quick quips aimed at you so he can see how your flustered eyes dart away from him. He needs to be there to offer whispered words of praise and gentle touches to build you up as he guides your hips in a rocking motion while you ride your temporary lover's cock like the goddess you are.

He wants to see the way your eyes roll back into the back of your skull when the tip of Umemiya’s cock pushes past the entrance of your tight cunt with a pop, his length bottoming out in you immediately.

“Aw, come on, sweet girl, don’t get that fucked out expression just yet; we’ve only just started.”

Suo wants to see the way you blush when Nirei moans desperately into the sweat-slicked skin of your back as he takes you from behind.

“Isn’t that cute, pretty girl? Nirei really can’t help thanking you for getting to try out your sweet cunt. I bet it’s the best he has ever had.”

And Suo wants to watch you swallow and lick up every single drop of Sakura’s cum no matter where it lands: on the bed sheets, on the floor, or even on Suo’s cock. Wow! How did it land there?

“Looks like you better get on your knees, dove, and clean up the mess you both made.”

To imagine himself absent, not being the one to finish you off, and not being the last one to leave his mark inside of you makes him feel like he just might lose his grip on reality.

Because you need him, don’t you? Your temporary lover can only do so much for you, but the one who makes you scream until your throat burns and your voice cracks isn’t Nirei, Umemiya, or Sakura. No, the one who makes you quiver and shake while he holds you in his arms as he strokes your hair after a particularly intense session is Suo.

Truly, it’s how you bond, so how could you do it without him? It’s like if you were binge-watching your favorite TV show with your partner, and then you come back the next day and they had continued to watch without you! That shit fucking hurts! It’s a betrayal to Suo–just not for the same reasons as it would be to those of us who are more “traditional” in our way of thinking.

So if he comes home to find you with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you tell him you have a surprise for him, he’ll be delightfully curious—were you thinking of him enough to plan a surprise? You shouldn’t have, but of course, he’s glad that you did!

At first, he’d smirk, approaching you while already unbuttoning his pants. As you spread your legs, his eyes would travel down to the thick, white seed that would be oozing out of you, and despite his usual stoic demeanor, you’d notice the unmistakable but slight clench of his jaw.

Suo knows what reaction you’re trying to get out of him, and he’s more than willing to give it to you. You want him to lose control, to let his well-placed and perfectly maintained mask slip.

All because you’re a brat.

All because you want to be fucked within an inch of your life.

All because you seek discipline and a firm hand to remind you who is genuinely in charge.

Well, sorry, but this simply isn’t the type of behavior that Suo plans on rewarding. And tonight, your self-imposed limits on your body's ability to receive pleasure—and for how long—are not his problem or concern. Tonight, he plans on pushing you past what you think you can handle. Do you think you’ve seen the brink before? Tonight, the brink is the starting point.

“I’m not hurt, just disappointed,” he’d start as his fingers would wrap around your ankles, his grip tight as he’d pull your entire body down the length of the bed and toward him.

“C-cliches, Hayato? You’re so much better than that-OW!” A sudden swat to your thigh gives you pause as you lift your ass a few inches off the bed in response to the sting, but that damn grip of his keeps you anchored.

“The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth unprompted is an apology. Now, who was it?”

As you divide your plush lips to speak up–probably to say something that’s not in your best interest–you hesitate at the sight of Suo narrowing his eyes at you. Nothing but dangerous intent swirls behind ruby-toned irises, sending a shiver down your spine. But you know Suo, and he’s dangerous to everyone but you. To him, causing you pain would be akin to causing himself pain and he isn’t in the business of torturing the other half of his soul.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t plan on putting you in your place. Suddenly he’s hovering over you, his tassel earrings dangling in your face and tickling the gentle curve of your cheeks.

“W-who? Well…” you stammer, your eyes avoiding his sharp gaze.

While you’re wrestling with how honest you should be, he’s pushing two fingers deep inside of you, twisting his fingers to churn the cum in a way that feels violating. The sound of his fingers swirling the cum makes you blush because, between your heavy breathing, it’s the loudest sound in the room.

“I knew she was greedy, but I had no idea you lacked self-control.” He pauses as the pace of his fingers pushing in and out of you quickens, and the squelches get more obscene.

“Let’s see if I can figure it out. I know exactly how she feels after being ruined by each of our friends.”

He’s not bluffing.

“Look how loud she is for me already. Was she this loud for…” he pauses as he goes down a mental list of who could have done this to you–and the duration of his pause makes your eyes narrow, and the tip of your ears heat up because now he’s being petty.

“Sakura?”

The way you snort lets him know he’s off base. Part of him is relieved it isn’t Sakura; his crush on you is borderline pitiful, and he wouldn’t want his friend to get the wrong idea. But if not Sakura, then who? Who would be brave–or stupid–enough to bypass him to get to you?

As he twists his fingers inside of you, pulling a groan from your lips, his eyes linger on the way your nose scrunches up in pleasure and slight embarrassment. He leans in closer. “Tell me. Now.”

“I-it was Togame!”

Suo pulls back and looks at you like you just spat at him, making your heart speed up. His reaction is so visceral that you hold your breath in response.

“Shishitoren trash?”

You wince; surely that beef was squashed long ago, you think. In some ways, it was, but there’s a bit of tension between Suo and Togame when it comes to you.

Suo notices how Togame’s eyes sweep over you–as though he’s devouring you in his mind. Suo doesn’t mind the looking too much, but it’s the way Togame eye fucks you mercilessly and the way he somehow always manages to find excuses to touch and brush against you.

He’s not threatened by his presence exactly, but the audacity of Togame pisses him off because not once has he asked for permission, not once has he approached him in the way that a gentleman would inquire about tasting what Suo considers his, not once-

Suo is snapped out of his spiraling as he notices your breathing has grown more rapid and your eyes glazed over long ago. Because, fuck, of course, he was still finger fucking you during his descent into madness. As you approach that oh-so-familiar edge, your toes curling in the way that tells him you’re close, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty and anything but sated.

Your eyes snap open, their ferocity almost enough to make Suo forgive you right then and there and make you chant his name as he gives himself over to you–but lessons must be taught.

He holds the fingers up to your lips, the scent of Togame and yourself wafting into your nostrils and serving as a reminder of the intimacy you shared with him. Your bottom lip quivers ever so slightly and Suo drags his cum slicked fingers against your bottom lip, the sheen it leaves making you look so delicate, beautiful, and worthy of worship. His eyes flick down to your pout, lingering with an insatiable hunger that makes your core flutter.

You can see his adams apple bob as he tries desperately to hold onto the thin thread of restraint threatening to snap. He can’t help but wonder if Togame got to see this side of you as he pushes his digits into your hungry mouth. You groan at the mixture of salty and sweet cum that coats your tongue and you can’t help but hollow your cheeks as you suck Suo’s fingers clean, your eyes never leaving his.

God and the way you twist your face in pleasure makes him want to lean in and taste your lips, allowing his tongue the privilege of experiencing what you taste like with another man’s essence on your tongue. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and it’s a toxic mixture of possessiveness, fixation, and lust that makes him ache and throb for you.

He should have been there to watch you take Togame’s cock. He should have been there to revel in the way your hot, fat tears flowed down your face as he encouraged Togame to stick a thumb in your other hole. He should have been there to stifle your loud moans and gasps with his cock as Togame gave your greedy pussy deep, deep strokes. “Didn’t know you liked the dirty, skeevy appeal that Shishitoren offers. How did he fuck you? Tell me every single detail; I have all fucking night.”

And Suo does have all fucking night, and suddenly, so do you.

“You like being stretched out by Shishtoren cock? Maybe I should drop you off at the Ori and let the “Devotees of Power” have their way with you. How about Choji, hm? He’s a bit of a biter, you know, and I know how sensitive you are, darling; I don’t think you’d last very long” He grips your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I want to see every place where he touched you. I want to see where he touched what’s mine, so I can make you forget all about Jo Togame.”

His eyes trail down, amused and pleased that you’re already obeying. Your fingers slip between your thighs as you watch his hungry gaze take in the way you spread your folds, and you know you have him exactly where you want him.

Anyway, 🍒 anon, this might be how it would go, but I wouldn’t make a habit of it because Suo has his limits, and I can’t promise he’ll be merciful next time.

@pixelcafe-network @hayatoseyepatch @interstellar-inn

#wind breaker #🍒 anon #anon ask #request fill #suo hayato #suo x reader #hayato suo x reader #hayato suo smut #windbreaker smut #wind breaker smut #tw: cheating #cw: cheating #request

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago

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fairy porn crisis

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'bookstore au' wc: 964 rated m cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

"Thanks for covering for me, Wayne," Eddie said as he set his bag down behind the front desk, slightly out of breath from running from the bus. "Won't happen again."

"'S alright, son. Everything go okay with the counselor?" Wayne sipped from his mug, probably his fourth or fifth cup of coffee since he opened the shop that morning.

"Yep. Still on track to graduate in May."

Wayne's stipulation when he "sold" the bookshop to Eddie was that he still get his degree as backup. "Bookselling is a dangerous game and I won't have ya strugglin' if somethin' fails."

"Thatta boy," Wayne clapped him on the shoulder. "Been a slow morning. But your favorite customer is in the back."

Eddie felt his face heat up.

"He's not my favorite."

"Sure he isn't." Wayne rolled his eyes. "I'm off to get a beer with Dave. Call if you need me."

Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he checked over his emails, the one thing Wayne was terrible about doing when he was covering the store. There weren't many, never really were on Tuesdays.

He waited for Wayne to leave, the door chiming with his exit.

He jumped up and made his way around the counter, walking towards the back room hastily.

He found Steve sitting on the beanbag placed in the corner, book in his lap, face bright red.

Eddie squinted until he could see what book he was reading and nearly passed out.

His Ring was the first book in a series focused entirely on a group of queer mythical creatures. It was the only book of the series Eddie had read, and he'd only admit it under risk of death.

It wasn't that it wasn't good. It's just that it was basically porn.

And this one in particular focused on two male fairies, one who was gay and one who spent the entire first half of the book having a bisexuality crisis.

Steve was reading it with the prettiest blush on his face.

Steve, who up until this moment, passed as the straightest human being Eddie had ever met.

"Have you gotten to the part where Ereldi has to sit on Brelend's lap for an entire dinner?" Eddie asked.

Steve jumped and slammed the book closed, pushing it under his legs as if Eddie hadn't already called him out. "What are you talking about?"

"Stevie, I'm the last person to judge your reading habits. But I do have to ask why the sudden interest in queer fairy porn? You're usually reading sports memoirs and doing word searches."

In other words, 'are you interested in testing out your sexuality with me? I can pretend to be a mythical being if needed.'

"Just needed a change of scenery?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Steve's blush deepened, and fuck, Eddie was about to be so unprofessional. Hopefully he wouldn't lose a customer over it, but it was a risk he had to take.

It's just that sometimes Eddie could swear Steve was watching him while he shelved books or swept the front room floors. And sometimes he caught him staring at him during his weekly storytime for kids where he gave out free books and cookies.

And Eddie always wanted to have Steve in his lap.

So.

"I." Steve refused to make eye contact, a sure sign that something was going on. "I just got curious. Heard someone talking about it and wanted to see if they were telling the truth."

"And were they?"

Steve didn't answer, so Eddie decided it was now or never.

"You know," he took a few steps closer to Steve. "I'm not usually one for those books. But there's something about the way they paint a very clear picture of how Ereldi rides Brelend in the forest that just draws me in." Another few steps. "Actually, Ereldi reminds me a bit of you."

Steve visibly gulped.

"But you wouldn't be interested in riding someone would you, Stevie? Prefer women to hop onto your lap and go for a ride?" Eddie's heart was racing.

And then it stopped completely when Steve gave the most unexpected answer he could have possibly given.

"I'd be interested in riding you."

Steve's wide eyes stared back at Eddie, daring him to make a joke, daring him to laugh.

Eddie wouldn't joke or laugh about this. He wasn't wasting this chance.

"Is the forest a requirement or could I go lock the front door and take you upstairs?"

Okay, so he couldn't not make a little joke.

"Forest sounds messy. Upstairs."

"Oh, I plan to make a mess of you regardless of location, sweetheart," Eddie leaned over Steve, foreheads touching, smirk growing as Steve's eyes closed. "Won't even have to get you hard, huh? The book did all the work for me."

Steve tilted his head back, lips puckering, searching for contact from Eddie's.

Eddie pulled away. "I close up in ten. You know the way upstairs?"

Steve's eyes blinked open as he nodded.

God, he was gonna be fun.

"You wanna be a good boy and wait for me up there?" Steve nodded and stood from the chair, wobbling slightly as he tried to gain his balance. "I want you naked in bed when I get up there, got it?"

"Um, I've never-" Steve started.

"Oh, sweetheart. I know. It's written all over you. I'm gonna take real good care of you, though. Better than anything you would read in that book."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sugar?"

"I really like you."

Eddie heard what he wasn't saying, knew without a doubt that he had to do this right or risk scaring him away from more than just the store.

"I really like you, too, Stevie." Eddie kissed his cheek. "You're in good hands."

"I know."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #bookshop au

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youaintnothinbuta · 3 months ago

Note

Could you do an Elvis x reader where the reader likes another person that is sat at a table with them and she thinks she is playing footsie with said person but finds out it’s actually Elvis and they end up going out together instead of her and the other guy.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that all night” — Elvis x reader

Summary: Out at dinner with some friends, Elvis manages to skew your attention away from the boy you were originally interested in, and he and you seperate from the group, going to catch a picture just the two of you :)

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: none, fluff!! There may be typos sorry in advance <3

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The small restaurant was alive with conversation, the clinking of silverware against plates, and the low hum of laughter that seemed to fill every corner of the room. You were seated at a round table, large enough to fit everyone comfortably but small enough to keep the group feeling close-knit. The soft glow from the overhead lights made everything feel warm and intimate, setting the mood nicely for a meal with friends.

You strategically sat yourself across from Danny, the boy you were a bit keen on. His sandy hair caught the light every time he turned his head. You’d noticed him before, casually, in the way that someone stands out in a crowd. You weren’t too familiar with him yet, nor many of the guys. As you sat across from him though, you couldn’t help but feel a subtle pull, your eyes finding his more than once as the night wore on. Your best girlfriend sat beside you, keeping you well entertained, but your focus kept drifting back to Danny, catching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

Seated directly beside Danny, was Elvis Presley—a name that was beginning to mean something to people outside of your little group. You’d heard him sing a few times, and he’d always been part of these gatherings, but you didn’t find him to be anything special. Or so you thought.

Finally, food was beginning to be brought out, and you felt a nudge against your foot under the table. It was subtle, barely there, but it caught your attention. You glanced up, and your eyes met Danny's for a brief moment. A small smile tugged at your lips as you assumed it was his way of testing the waters.

You responded in kind, nudging back, your foot brushing against his ankle. A little thrill ran through you—innocent, playful, nothing too serious, but enough to make your heart flutter a little.

Again, you pressed, seeing if he’d play back. You felt his hand catch your ankle, the warmth of it startling you for a split second before he began to draw soft, teasing traces over your skin. Your breath hitched, almost gasping at how intimate it felt. You quickly looked up at Danny, expecting to see a smirk, a hint of recognition in his eyes. But instead, you watched him bring both hands to the table, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. Confusion clouded your head. Danny's hands were both clearly visible as he listened to someone's story.

You felt your stomach do a small flip as your gaze slid sideways, to the person sitting right next to Danny.

Elvis.

He was lounging back in his chair, his eyes half-lidded as he listened to the conversation, his expression unreadable, with one hand resting on his lap. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. But then, as if sensing your gaze, he looked over at you, his eyes locking with yours.

Realisation hit you slowly. It wasn’t Danny at all. It was Elvis. And with that realisation came another—maybe, just maybe, you liked it better this way.

He watched you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that made your cheeks burn. There was something in his eyes, something that told you he knew exactly what was going on. He broke contact with your skin, bringing both of his hands back to visibility.

As you sat there, trying to compose yourself, one of your girlfriends turned and gave you a concerned look. She’d always been good at picking up on your moods, and tonight was no exception. With a gentle hand, she pressed the back of her fingers against your cheek, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her tone laced with worry. “You’re burning up.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden attention. “No, no, I’m fine,” you stammered, trying to wave off her concern. Elvis’ was watching you still, and he seemed rather amused at the way he was flustering you.

Your friend wasn’t convinced. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she eyed you. “Come on,” she said, her voice taking on a more playful tone. “Let me fix ya up.”

Before you could protest, she took your hand and gently pulled you up from your chair.

Elvis was leaning back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with merriment. There was a smirk playing on his lips, a look that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

She guided you down a narrow hallway, past the hum of the restaurant’s main room, until the two of you reached the small, dimly lit bathroom.

Once inside, she turned to you with a mischievous grin, shutting the door behind her. “Alright,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “Let’s see what’s going on with you. You’re all flushed.”

You tried to play it off, shrugging and giving her a sheepish smile. “I guess it’s just a bit warm in there,” you said, but you knew she wasn’t buying it. She always had a knack for seeing right through you.

“Mhm,” she hummed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a compact and a powder brush. “Or maybe it’s something else entirely?” she teased, giving you a knowing look as she dabbed the brush into the powder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, though the words felt weak even as you said them.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she gently powdered your face, freshening up your makeup.

“There,” she said finally, stepping back to admire her work. “Good as new.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, noting how much calmer you looked, at least on the outside. Inside, though, you were still reeling slightly.

“Thanks,” you said, giving her a grateful smile.

“Anytime,” she said, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur, your focus shifting entirely. Every time you glanced up, you found Elvis’ eyes on you, a silent conversation passing between you that no one else was privy to. By the time desserts came around, you were no longer thinking about Danny at all.

Everyone began to finish up and gather their things, making plans for what to do next. The group was splitting up, some heading out to another spot, others calling it a night. You were about to say your goodbyes when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Need a ride home?” Elvis asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure. But then you nodded, your decision made. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He nodded goodbye to the other boys, holding the door open for you. The cool night air was a welcome relief as you stepped outside. It cleared your head. You glanced up at Elvis, who was walking beside you with an easy confidence.

He walked you over to a pink Cadillac. The interior was white, the whole thing looked brand new. You couldn’t quite believe it was his. Perhaps this whole music gig was more serious than you originally thought. He opened the passenger door for you, before he climbed in beside you, his presence warming the space as he started the engine.

The drive was quiet at first, with only the hum of the car and the soft sounds of the city filling the background. You glanced over at him, trying to gauge his thoughts, but his expression was relaxed, almost unreadable. After a few minutes, you realized you weren’t quite ready for the night to end.

“Elvis?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced over at you, his eyes warm and attentive. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, a little nervous to suggest anything else. “What time is it?”

Elvis flicked his wrist slightly, checking his watch. “Just past nine,” he replied.

“It’s still early,” you said, the words coming out before you could think better of them.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded, understanding your hint. “You wanna do somethin’ else?” he asked, his tone playful.

You nodded shyly, “Yeah.”

He grinned, turning the car onto a new street. “How ’bout the drive-in? There’s probably another picture showing soon. We could catch that.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as you spoke, “sounds perfect.”

The drive to the drive-in didn’t take long, just, just a few miles out of town. When you pulled up, the large screen was already glowing with the start of a movie, and rows of cars were parked in front of it, people getting cosy or sitting on the hoods of their cars to watch.

Elvis found a spot toward the back, away from the crowd, giving you both a little privacy. He turned off the engine, and you settled into your seat as the movie played on the screen in front of you. The cool breeze brushed over you, and you felt a comfortable closeness to him that hadn’t been there before.

You both watched the screen in silence for a while, the dialogue and music filling the air. But as the minutes passed, you felt his arm slide along the back of the seat behind your head, his fingers lightly brushing your shoulder. Your breath hitched, and when you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, his eyes soft and searching.

Without a word, you shifted closer to him, your body naturally leaning into his warmth. He welcomed you into his embrace, his arm wrapping around you more securely as you rested your head against his chest. It was an innocent enough move, but it sent your heart racing all the same.

The movie played on, but you were barely paying attention now. Instead, you focused on the steady beat of his heart under your ear, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. You felt safe, content, but there was also that undeniable spark of attraction.

At one point, he shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently tilt your chin up so you could meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, but there was a softness there too, something tender that made your chest tighten.

“You comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as his thumb traced soft circles on your upper arm.

You smiled, nodding, too nervous to speak.

His lips quirked up into a small smile, and he nodded. “Good.”

There was something in his eyes, something unspoken that made your breath catch.

“Elvis…” you started.

Then, slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly over yours in a tentative, testing kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant.

You responded without thinking, your hand coming up to rest on his chest as you kissed him back, a little more firmly this time. He made a soft sound of approval in the back of his throat, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss, his thumb gently brushing against your skin.

It was slow, sweet, but there was a heat beneath it, a promise of something more. When you finally pulled back, you could see the desire in his eyes, you were sure he could see it in yours too.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that all night,” he admitted, his voice hushed.

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. “So have I.”

The rest of the movie passed rather quickly, your focus entirely on him, the way his fingers intertwined with yours, the way he would occasionally press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head.

When the credits finally rolled, Elvis glanced over at you. “Guess I should get you home now, huh?”

You nodded, though part of you wished the night didn’t have to end. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He smiled, but there was a hint of reluctance in it. “Don’t worry, darlin’. This won’t be the last time.”

You nodded sheepishly. He gave you one last lingering look before turning the key in the ignition. The drive back to your place was quieter, both of you lost in your thoughts, but there was a new warmth between you now, a connection that hadn’t been there before.

When he pulled up to your house, he parked the car and turned to you, his eyes searching your face. “I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice sincere.

You smiled, feeling the same. “Me too, Elvis.”

He walked you to your front door. As you stood on the porch, you hesitated for a moment, not really wanting to go inside.

He leaned down, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Elvis,” you whispered back.

As you slipped inside your house, closing the door behind you, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, not for the rest of the night.

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krispycreamcake · 4 months ago

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Laito Sakamaki bf headcanons♤♤

🃏- Ok so uhhhhh let's all just be honest with ourselves

🃏- I really really do enjoy his character and its development, but this man would not exactly be the best boyfriend

🃏- Obviously all diaboys have their extremely toxic flaws, so I'm gonna be as unbiased as I can and give him a worthy depiction

🃏- Depending on your personality and how you've acted towards him, I see him as someone who usually seeks out your comfort in trying times

🃏- It's moments like these where he's so unaccustomed to being vulnerable that he'll have a slight panic attack that you'll betray him

🃏- Luckily however, the more your relationship grows, the less that feeling will be there, but it will definitely take time

🃏- He's definitely asked you to shower with him multiple times, but for different reasons

🃏- Like sometimes he's genuinely so at peace to finally be naked and not hate himself after, or to share something so intimate with you that isn't sex

🃏- Let's be real, sex isn't something special for him, it's just a regular Saturday night

🃏- But knowing that he gets to share it for the first time in his life with someone who he feels safe around, is something he can get behind

🃏- Has you sit on his lap while you both do crossword puzzles together

🃏- Doesn't seem like the type who enjoys making big meals, so he prefers to take you out to eat if it's a special occasion

🃏- Honestly loves talking to you late at night(?) Or morning or whatever it is

🃏- He enjoys the honesty of the conversations and the fact that he doesn't need to see through you, you're just reading to him the pages of your mind

🃏- Watches shows like NCIS, Law and Order, Dexter, etc. He begssss you to watch it with him and catches you up to speed with the episodes

🃏- Realistically, he doesn't always want to cuddle and be in your space. Some nights he just needs time alone for whatever reason and teases you when you get lonely

🃏- Extremely clingy when he's having a hard time keeping his mask on so he tries to play it off as just his normal behaviour (if you know him well enough, you'd immediately catch on)

🃏- Give him well thought out gifts and he'll start planning your future together

🃏- Talks about growing old together and having kids

🃏- Speaking of, you're not dying to old human age on his watch. Whether you want to become a vampire or not, he will turn you into one, you are not leaving his side

🃏- Dry ass texts when he's fully awake and long ass convos when he's about to pass out

🃏- Helps you learn how to play sudoku but will purposely give you wrong tips the first time around so he can flaunt how good he is

🃏- Doesn't understand why you like it when he wears his glasses and insists he looks like an otaku

🃏- Late night walks away from the manor so you both can moon gaze and enjoy the serenity of nature

🃏- One time when Ayato bit you, you insisted that instead of causing drama, he try something more civil (He put laxatives in his Gatorade before a basketball match against another school)

🃏- Also on a related note, really enjoys pranking you and encourages you to prank him back

🃏- For some reason I can imagine him getting really into butterflies and their anatomy. I personally think he has his own sketchbook where he draws them and makes notes on the different species

🃏- Loves to fly kites, he does not care whether you're with him or not, will fly a kite because why not

🃏- Watches mukbangs with you and even chooses the next couple videos

🃏- Jokes about you starting an OF, but had a nightmare that your dream partner found you and whisked you away from him like a prince in shinning armour

🃏- He enjoys playing hand games with you. Yeah idk why I thought about this but it seems to fit

🃏- Enjoys seeing you wear modest clothes. Not because he's picturing the underneath, but he knows you're gorgeous because you can pull being modest AND being naked off

🃏- Wants a Shiba Inu as a pet someday

🃏- He really tries to love you even if he does hurt you from time to time

#diabolik lovers laito #diabolik boys #diabolik lovers x reader #laito sakamaki #anime x reader #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers shu #diabolik lovers subaru #fanfic #dialovers laito #laito x reader #dialovers fandom #diabolik lovers reiji #dialovers #diabolik lovers kanato #headcanon #diabolik lovers fandom #diabolik lovers fanfiction

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genderfluid-insomniac · 7 months ago

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Can you do Harbinger Headcannons for a reader who has a hard time with being social and recharges by being held? For example: they get overwhelmed after being out and about all day but have a very hard time asking to be held because they don't have the energy to communicate it. (Oddly specific but it's what I deal with)

A/N: I chose these by generating random numbers 1 through 11 and then choosing said harbinger by their rank. It’s purely by luck and I’m happy that Scaramouche and Arlecchino randomly got picked.

Also I had a very hard time finding anything about Pulcinella’s personality or what he’s like since we only saw him in the winter's interlude so if you’re reading this from the future and I’m wrong then I’m sorry. I tried my best.

Harbinger headcanons for a reader who has a hard time with being social and recharges by being held

Scaramouche

- Isn’t thrilled with physical affection but he does understand having your social battery being drained so you both compromised so no one would be uncomfortable and you got to lay your head on his lap while he ran his hands through your hair until you were ready to interact with others. Sometimes he also used your want to escape and get away from social gatherings because he doesn’t like them on a good day.

- Eventually he does come around and grow more relaxed about the whole thing, going as far as to hold you in more ways that you’re both comfortable in and have tea brought for the both of you. You will have to specify if you want a sweeter tea because he’s having his bitter as usual.

Sandrone

- Sandrone completely understands and often has her mechanical puppet use it’s hands to shield her from others so she’s “alone” in a sense. She is debating on making a hollow chamber in it’s chest so a person can rest in there comfortably and safely. You’re treated no different and if you aren’t sitting with her or on some part of the puppet (which almost never happens unless she’s in a harbinger meeting or called to see the Tsaritsa).

- You’ll never hear complaints or declines from her and you quickly taken somewhere else to recharge in her arms like how her mechanical puppet shields her with her arms or simply moving to another room. She’ll take you in her arms and let you rest against her chest, running a hand through your hair and cuddling with you in the hollow warm chamber if you ask.

Childe

- If it were any other person then he’d say pushing your limits is how you should live however this is someone he deeply cares about and knows that when you speak up about needing to be alone and recharge you mean it. You’re always a priority to him and fighting is a second but if he has harbinger work then he’ll do his best to cuddle with you till you’re alright. Childe will bring you along if he has easy missions that he thinks won’t injure you and make sure that you can be comfy but also safe while he balances you and his work.

- He is the best at cuddling and sis very attentive however once he’s has you in his arms you’re staying there for at least an hour or too. So I hope you don’t have anything important soon because even when your social battery is charged he’s going to be very happy with snuggling with his lover and being able to not think about work for once.

Arlecchino

- At first you’re scared to ask her at all since she’s very intimidating but since she’s very observant and perceptive it’s only a matter of time before she’ll talk to you about it. Arlecchino is very loving and soft when it involves you and she’d do anything for you. Pretty much anything that doesn’t break her rules. When you tug on her sleeve and discreetly glance at her with a tired shy expression the knave will excuse herself from the public conversation she’s having. You’ll be lead to an empty room hand in hand and placed on her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair or drawing circles on the top of your hand while you recharge.

- You both made a sign for when you feel like this and she respects it without any question and when she put the pieces together she cupped your face with no judgement at all in her expression. Kissing you softly and resting her forehead on yours. “Try to not be scared of telling me your worries or wishes because I love you no matter what, darling. Now do you want a signal to let me know or would you rather be held now and think about it later?”

Pulcinella

- You don’t need to ask him because he’s going to insist that you never need to ask for permission about anything that’s bothering you or making you uncomfortable and simply guiding you to a small empty room so you can recharge with him. He can also almost know when you’re running low on your social battery if he’s with you and ask you, normally he’s right 99% of the time. If he needs to do harbinger work then he will work on some of it but you’ll be sitting next to him in a hug or leaning your head on his shoulder.

- He’s rarely called for on missions and so you don’t interact much with anyone but him but when you do it’s usually for galas and formal events that makes it hard to sneak away to get away from socializing. He makes it work though, easily slipping out of the conversation he’s in and making an excuse of an agent calling for an urgent message while guiding you to a small isolated part of the room where almost no one can see the both of you. You cozy up to him and he’ll talk you quietly about meaningly topic if you want to be distracted or remain silent if you want it to be quiet.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #wanderer x reader #wanderer #childe tartagalia #childe x reader #childe genshin x reader #genshin childe #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #pulcinella x reader #pulcinella

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

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𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

pairing: dbf!ellaria sand x plus size!f!reader x oberyn martell, ellaria sand x oberyn martell

genre: smut, modern au, hurt/comfort, minors dni

word count: 7.2k

summary: Wanting to get away from it all for a while, your dad suggests that you go and stay with his friend in the city; Ellaria Sand. It's been a hot while since you last saw her and you must admit, you have a bit of a crush on the older woman. What you don't expect, however, is to find an equally charming stranger staying with her as well.

warnings: threesome, age gap (reader being in her late twenties), weed use, dirty talking, body insecurities (weight related), piv, oral sex (male and female), praise kink, light bdsm dynamics, subdrop, aftercare, squirting (but like very non explicit squirting as ironic as that sounds dfvdv), use of petnames (little one, pet, good girl), no use of y/n, both ellaria and oberyn are mentioned to be polyamourus, edging

a/n: this is hella indulgent and an idea I've had since September but never actually gotten around writing it. However, while I was taking a nap the idea suddenly consumed me and I had to pause everything else to sit down and write it. Enjoy the filth, there's so much going on ❤️‍🔥

**dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

You’re anxious as you wait for the door to open in front of you. It’s been a rough couple of months—years, actually. You feel suffocated by the world around you and yourself. Every day is another battle. You hate to admit it but you’re just so tired of fighting. There’s a constant weight on your chest that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do. Which led you to the doorsteps of your dad’s friend, Ellaria Sand.

The idea had came from your dad. Noticing your troubles fitting in, he recommended you go and visit her. You were more than eager to oblige. You loved her company, she had an aura about her that just made you feel welcome. Talking to her came easy since she did most of it, and when you had something to say, she would actually listen.

While you’re thinking about all of this, you’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that you might have a teeny-tiny crush on the older woman. However you’re ready to make the argument that it’s not your fault, she was just too charming—who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

Ellaria’s excitement mimics your own as she opens the door. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around you and drags you inside.

“How was the trip?” she asks excitedly. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course not, I like traveling,” you answer. “Thank you for having me by the way. How are you?”

“Oh, pretty much the same. Nothing new.” she helps you with your luggage and you follow her to the spare bedroom. “Also I forgot to mention on the phone but a friend of mine will be visiting and staying with us as well. Is that okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be,” you say with a leveled voice. “Does the mystery guest have a name?”

As you step into the room, she turns to you, still smiling.

“His name is Oberyn.”

For your first night, you weren’t expecting to get high on the couch with Ellaria, yet here you are, your chest full of cannabis as your head rests over her lap.

“So who is this guy?” you ask as she places the joint between your lips. You feel the warmth of her fingers. “A boyfriend or something?”

“Or something.”

You draw your brows together, confused, “What does that mean?”

“It means my sweet flower,” she answers slowly, dragging her knuckles up your heated cheek. “We’re together but we both agree that the pleasure of the world is too many to limit ourselves to one person.”

“You’re in an open relationship?” you take a deep drag from the joint, your lungs expanding with smoke.

“We’re both polyamorous.”

“Wow, lucky,” you say with an envious tone. She quirks an eyebrow yet her smile continues on to be a humorful one. You stammer with your words. “I-I mean, it’s lucky that you found each other. Must be nice having the same ideals as someone.”

She nods, placing the blunt back between her lips, “It is.”

“Is he nice to you?”

You’re not quite sure what prompts you to as that. First of all, it feels way too personal of a question to be asking your father’s friend. Even though Ellaria has spoken about her sexual relationships before, it still feels like your might be crossing an invisible line. A fog settles over your mind, loosening your tongue. You’re fascinated by functioning relationships. You’re fascinated by the idea of two people actually being understanding and caring towards each other—as ridiculous as that may sound. You haven’t had the best experiences when it came to partners, most of them going into it with hopes of changing who you are, so anytime you see two people actually liking each other’s company you can’t help but want to pull out a camera and record everything.

Ellaria blows smoke toward your face, the warmth of it ghosting over your skin like a summer breeze.

“He is. I wouldn’t really be with him if he wasn’t.” she pinches your cheek. “You have a weird look on your face.”

“Oh,” you answer dumbly. “Sorry.”

“I’m just worried. Your father didn’t really say anything other than you really needed a break.”

“I guess I’m just a bit lonely.”

“Well,” she says and reaches towards the ashtray to snuff out the blunt. “If that’s the case you came to the right place. You can stay as long as you want to.” before you can say anything, she starts rolling another one and a loud knock echoes across the dimly lit apartment.

“Ah, that must be Oberyn.”

Begrudgingly, you remove yourself away from her lap and watch Ellaria make her way toward the door. She’s wearing an orange dress, the color warming her skin. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to her behind, the soft fabric hugging her curves delicately.

With a noise, you hurriedly snap your eyes away. It’s not the time to be ogling her like a piece of meat.

No matter how good she looks.

You weakly attempt to collect yourself when Ellaria returns with a tall man in tow. As you get up, you stagger a bit but manage to immediately keep yourself upright by holding on to Oberyn’s outstretched hand. His smile is kind, and the kindness reaches the depth of his eyes. Though you also see a hint of curiosity in them. His palm is searing against yours and his fingers are long and nice-looking, you spot a stylish golden ring on his thumb.

A bit scared, and a bit excited, you meet his gaze. He’s quite handsome. In fact, you believe you might be in the presence of the most attractive two people in the city. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, framing his jawline which in return gives it an even more sharper look.

While you two remain hand in hand, Ellaria makes the introductions. Oberyn’s thumb smooths down your inner writs. A shiver rolls down your spine. “It is very lovely to meet you,” he says earnestly.

“Likewise.”

Oberyn picks up the unlit joint Ellaria had left on the coffee table before she went to greet him. You see a faint sparkle in his eyes. “You two were smoking?” he asks, turning to Ellaria.

“To relax the nerves, my love,” she answers with a playful smile. “Help yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.”

You feel as if someone poured cold water over your head, “Maybe I can help?” you take a step forward, intent on following her to wherever she was going—which you assume is the kitchen. But she stops you with the raise of her hand.

“Please, I’ll be right back. In the meanwhile you two get acquainted.”

A second later it’s just you and Oberyn alone in the living room. He seems unbothered and lights the joint as he takes a seat. There’s a certain air of expertise and elegance in whatever he does. He pats the cushion next to him, “Sit.”

You sigh softly, collapsing next to him. He flicks the lighter and leans towards the tiny flame, his eyes fixed on the empty threshold. He takes two quick exhales, the tip of the joint burning a bright orange. Smoke pours from the corners of his lips. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him. Shadows dance over his face, giving him a dark look.

“How do you two know each other?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts.

You blink, momentarily lost in his gaze, before extending your hand to take another drag from the joint. Your fingers feel slightly numb as you bring it to your lips. "She's a friend of my dad's," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for a while."

Oberyn nods, his fingers gently brushing the back of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“What about you?” you ask, hating the way your voice trembled.

A soft smile plays on his lips. His thumbs continue their soothing caress on the back of your neck, tracing delicate patterns that send a shiver of pleasure through your body.

"She walked into my lecture one day," Oberyn begins, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I was talking about the ancient civilizations of Essos, and there she was, her eyes filled with curiosity. After the lecture, she approached me with such confidence, asking questions that sparked my own curiosity. I learned that she was an artist and she was lacking inspiration. She thought a trip to the past would spark something in her." he says blissfully. “And spark it did.”

“You’re a professor?”

He hums, elevated by your intrigue, “Yes, but I do prefer excavating and traveling to new sites.” he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "It's much more freeing, rather than being trapped between four walls."

His words wash over you like a gentle caress, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth. The joint burns low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. With a jolt of panic, you extend it back to him.

Oberyn's voice lowers even further, a velvet murmur that tickles your ear. "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she? So full of life and passion."

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you find yourself nodding, captivated by the combination of his words and the tender touch of his thumbs on your skin. "Yes, she is," you reply.

“You like her,” Oberyn says, a statement, rather than a question. You’re horrified by the implication of it. Your lips part and close, words failing to come out. His sudden burst of laughter makes you jump. “Do not look so worried, I’m not here to judge you. I appreciate anyone who sees her for the gorgeous woman that she is.”

His fingers find purchase under your chin, he lifts your gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. You forget how to breathe. With a soft smile, Oberyn brings the joint to his lips and takes a deep inhale, You can hear the sizzle of it, and feel the heat that radiates from the crimson tip. Your lips part by instinct, he leans closer.

Oberyn fills your lungs with delicious smoke. Your lips never touch, yet you swear you can feel them pressed together. He breathes life into you and when it’s all done, he licks himself deep into your mouth. Pressing deeper, Oberyn flattens his tongue against yours and nips your bottom lip. Sweat drips from your spine and gathers at your tailbone. His hands affectionately cradle your face, inhaling you one last time, he breaks the kiss.

You’re a panting mess, your lips tingling for more.

“Take off your clothes.”

Your eyes go wide, “I—Excuse me what?” slightly inching forward, you stare into his eyes. “Ellaria is right down the hall, wouldn’t it be. . . rude?”

That sparks an amused chuckle from him. “You’re adorable,” he muses. “I promise you that she wants this as much as I do.”

“She. . . does?”

“Ellaria adores you. She also enjoys sharing her favorite things with the one’s that she cares for,” his fingers curl around your throat and you swallow. Oberyn tilts your head to the side. “Now, let me see you.”

And this is the part where your insecurities make an ugly appearance. You avert your gaze, hugging yourself while Oberyn continues to stare. You want to do this. You absolutely do, if the slick gathering in your underwear is any indication, but it’s still hard for you to believe that he wants to.

You feel the bite of his nails and bring your gaze back to him. You’re not sure what does it, but you find yourself scrambling off of the couch. You don’t see not one ounce of a lie in those eyes—you only see lust and intrigue. Besides, you came here to loosen up, what better way is there to do that than making out with a handsome stranger?

When you’re left only in your bra and underwear, Oberny pulls you to his lap and you let out a soft gasp. He unclasps your bra and throws it over the small pile of clothes you had left behind, leaving you only in your, visibly soaked, panties.

“Oberyn. . .”

You jolt at the soft lilt of Ellaria’s voice. You stiffen over the older man’s lap, not knowing what to do. With a smile, he draws soothing circles over your thighs.

Ellaria takes a seat next to you two. You’re too flustered to look at her but despite not looking, you see the delicate curl of her lips.

“She’s too beautiful not to touch,” Oberyn drags his nose down your neck, and you smile giddily. Your heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you agree with me, Ellaria?”

Her tongue swiping over her bottom lip, she reaches out and holds your breast, weighing it with her palm. She brushes a thumb over your pebbled nipple, a soft whine parts your lips. “I do.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course, love. Why would I not think you are beautiful?”

You grow silent. Ellaria’s fingers dances along your arm and heat settles in your core. Oberyn, with a curious gaze and a half smile, drags his thumbs down to the soft contours of your stomach rolls and gently pinches. You whine, sticking your bottom lip out, you look away from them both.

“I think I have an idea why she thinks like that,” he hums. Ellaria’s gaze drops to where Oberyn’s hands rest, meaning your stomach. Your cheeks burn. Her eyebrows raised, you feel the weight of her gaze locked onto your face, but still, you refuse to look at her. Or him. “She lives in a cruel world that makes her think she’s anything but desirable. But we see her for what she is.”

“And what’s that?” you mutter, embarrassed to be read so easily. He was right, you never thought of yourself as being desirable, even if you desperately wanted to. There were mornings you just woke up hating yourself, staring into the mirror and poking endlessly at your face and observing every imperfection. You’re tired of it. Tired of thinking of yourself as less. Which is one of the reasons why you came here. Why your dad wanted you to spend time with Ellaria, he knew the woman had ways of making you feel better.

Oberyn's firm yet gentle grasp on your chin draws your attention, anchoring your gaze and shifting your focus solely to him. His smile is wide and predatory, like a snake. You tremble as his hands slide from your stomach to your waist, their scorching touch and commanding presence stirring a primal reaction within you.

“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he answers with a melodic lilt from his sinful tongue. “The type of girl we want to ravish for as long as you’re staying here.”

“If you want to, of course,” Ellaria adds, playfully pinching your nipple. Your eyes flutter closed. The sudden mixture of pleasure and pain makes your skin tingle pleasantly. “Do you, little one?”

You nod. Everything that’s happening feels like a fever dream. The scent of cannabis is still heavy in the air, making you feel soft and slow like molasses. Ellaria’s fingers dance along your nape, nimble fingers sliding into the roots of your hair, she gently tugs. Meanwhile, Oberyn nips at the soft skin of your neck.

“Words, love.” Ellaria commands.

“Yes,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “I want to. . . if you guys want to.”

Oberyn whispers, “Good girl,” against your skin, and a wave of dizziness engulfs you. The two devour with the ways they touch and bite. Ellaria’s lips melt into your own as Oberyn cups both your breasts, kneading the soft mounds.

Kissing Ellaria had been a fantasy you frequently indulged in over the years and you’re pleasantly surprised to realize she tastes like cherries and roses. You have endless memories of slipping your hand between your legs as soon as you were in the privacy of your room. You always had a feeling that she knew. Her gaze too observant, too cunning not to see the thoughts lingering in your head.

Oberyn lowers his head and lifts your breasts to his mouth. He laves his tongue over your nipples hungrily. A wanton moan echoes in the back of your throat, your head falls as you part away from Ellaria. You hear her chuckle. “You taste sweet,” she comments, making you keen. “Despite the smoke Oberyn blew into your lungs.”

“You saw that?”

“You two weren’t exactly being discreet.”

You’re hot all over, embarrassment pouring over you like summer rain. Oberyn doesn’t seem to care, consumed with the taste of your flesh. Your underwear sticks to your folds and you squirm over his lap. The man groans when you brush his length, you feel him twitch through the soft fabric of his sweats. The blood rush is loud in your ears.

He feels. . . big.

“Shit,” you mumble, delving your fingers into his short locks. You tug him closer to your chest and sloppily grind on top of him. You feel the sharpness of his teeth and then—

He bites you.

With a sharp cry you jerk away, your gaze instantly finding Oberyn’s. The man is grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage. “What was that for?” you gasp, chest heaving.

“It was an affectionate bite,” he teases, then presses his lips over the tiny dents. “Did it hurt?”

“No . . .” you answer, sounding uncertain. “I was just surprised.”

Ellaria rolls her eyes and tugs Oberyn towards her. The man goes willingly, his wicked smile never fading as she crashes their lips together. You see the pink of Ellaria’s tongue slip between Oberyn’s lips. His hands drop, his thumbs digging into the crease between your thighs and hips. You watch wide-eyed at the way the two devour each other. They’re so earnest, so hungry. It makes you ache between your legs and a bit in your heart. While Ellaria licks herself deeper into his mouth, Oberyn guides the roll of your hips.

Suddenly struggling about where to put your hands, you place them on his chest. The fabric of his shirt bunches underneath your fingers. Your eyes roll at the delicious caress of his clothed cock. You want to feel more.

When they part, a string of saliva connects them still. Oberyn grins at her and tilts his head toward you. “She likes the show it seems,” he states.

With a soft smile, Ellaria turns to you. She cups your cheek and smooths her thumb over your heated skin. Your heart soars. She’s so tender, so soft with you. It makes you dizzy. You never thought someone like her would be interested. And you don’t only say this because of your physical insecurities, you just always felt like she would find you too inexperienced. Too young. You always had this unnecessary fear of sounding dumb when you talked with her.

“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming closer. Her hot breath fans your skin as Oberyn flattens his tongue over your neck, dragging the wet muscle up until his nose is firmly pressed against your jaw.

“I’m thinking that this must be a dream,” you answer. “And I’m thinking how intoxicating you two are.”

Oberyn’s smile is wide as he pulls away, his eyebrows raised. “Look at that, she found her tongue. How delightful.”

Ellaria kisses the right corner of your lips and addresses Oberyn. “You’ll scare her, she’s fragile.”

“I’m not fragile,” you pout. With a laugh, she presses her lips against your jutted lip. “I’m just nervous. . . you know my experiences haven’t been—” You clear your throat, suddenly aware of Oberyn’s eyes on you. “Great.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Obeyn chimes in, his gaze moving to Ellaria, “What does that mean?”

“Poor girl never came from another hand but her own.”

“Ellaria!”

“Oh?” Oberyn’s eyes bore into your own. It’s so intense that you can’t look away, and honestly, you’re not sure that you want to. He pulls down your bottom lip, dipping his thumb into the seam. “You won’t have to worry about that with us, sweet creature.”

“I’m sure,” you hum, a coy smile playing on your lips. “So can we uh. . . can we take this to the bedroom? I’m not that comfortable on the couch. If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Ellaria answers. “Besides I hate how this fabric feels against my skin. So the bed is definitely preferred.”

Oberyn, without saying a word, nuzzles your neck before pulling you to your feet. You falter, still a bit dazed. Yet, his arm catches you, keeping you from falling.

“Careful,” he tuts, lips touching your forehead.

Oberyn’s arm never leaves your waist as Ellaria guides the two of you through the hallway of her home. A route you don’t doubt Oberyn has taken many times before.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you enter Ellaria’s room. It’s quite neat, the bed quite big, which doesn’t surprise you in the least.

Ellaria looks at you with a smile, curling her fingers around the elastic of your underwear, she tugs you close. Oberyn looms right behind you, he hadn’t closed the door as he entered. His cock hard and aching, resting between the crease of your clothed ass cheeks. His palms caress the soft mounds, his breath warm and wet against your nape.

You’re suddenly highly aware that you’re the only one practically naked. Noticing this, heat crawls up your chest and curls around your neck. At any moment you expect to wake up in the familiar setting of the guest room, none of this seems real.

“Lay down, Oberyn,” Ellaria’s voice breaks the silence, her eyes never leaving yours as she addresses her lover. “We’ll join you shortly.”

“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, your legs shake in response. “Should I take off my clothes?”

“Yes.”

Oberyn smiles, gives your ass one last firm squeeze, and retreats. And as much as you want to stare at the man in his full naked glory, it’s hard to pull your gaze away from Ellaria. You hear the bed creaking under the man’s weight. Still, you don’t turn to look. Ellaria kneels before you, tugging your underwear along with her. Her hands, despite not being large as Oberyn’s, feels all consuming. They languidly slide above your calves and thighs as she raises to stand on her feet once more.

When she stands, you make a move to take off her garments but she gently pushes your hands back. “You watch,” she says, pulling off the straps of her dress and allowing it to pool at her ankles.

You touch her like art. Soft and slow. Almost as if she wasn’t there. You cup her waist and skim your palm until you reach the side of her breast, in which you hold tenderly under your hand. A soft gasp leaves her and you look at her with shock and amazement. You bend forward, closing your lips around the tender nipple. You swirl your tongue around the areola, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a sigh.

“That’s nice,” she says, looking at you between heavy eyelids. “You don’t need to be shy with us.”

If it were anyone else saying that you wouldn’t have believed them, “I think you’re right,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than her. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being. . . timid?”

Her brows furrow with confusion, her gaze searching your own as your thumb continues to dance over the darker patch of skin. Then you see it, the recognition flashing in her eyes. She might’ve forgotten, but you remember her talking about how much of a bore it was to be with unsure people. Timid, as she had put it. Which is something you’re being right now—you think.

Your eyes find Oberyn’s from above her shoulder. It’s a fleeting moment. But he seems to be eating you both with the darkness of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Ellaria’s hand cradles the back of your neck, gently tightening her grip. When your gaze moves back to her, you see that she’s smiling.

“I didn’t mean you when I said that,” she answers. “You lack confidence, there’s a difference. And I doubt you’ll be holding yourself back after regaining it.”

“You don’t think I’m boring?”

“I don’t,” leaning in, she drags her nose over yours, soft lips only an inch away. “Let’s not keep Oberyn waiting.”

When you both turn, you see that Oberyn is softly touching himself. Fingers teasingly moving up and down his impressive length. You clench your teeth, arousal overwhelming every orifice of your body. “How should we do this?” he asks, eyes on Ellaria.

Grinning, she gently nudges your shoulder with her own, you can’t stop staring at Oberyn however. He’s all lean muscle, the extra padding making him look fit. The coarse dark hairs lead a path from his softened stomach to his pulsing cock. Noticing your gaze, he wraps a hand around himself and starts to fuck his fist with hard strokes. He watches with delight at the way you lick your lips when a bead of precome appears on the tip.

“Would you want to taste him?” Ellaria’s lips touch your ear.

An awkward chuckle bubbles from your chest, “Am I being that obvious?”

“Only slightly.”

She guides you to the bed, and you take your place between Oberyn’s legs while Ellaria is more to the side. His hand instantly finds the side of your face, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips as he stares at you with a softened gaze.

“Needy,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you, little one.”

You feel your pupils physically expanding. Ellaria drags her nails down your scalp, you purr at the sensation. “He likes it when you go slow,” she informs. “Start at the tip and drag your tongue down, he likes being teased.”

With an urge to please, you do exactly as she says. First, you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head, his thighs stiffen, then you flatten your tongue and move down. The moan that comes from him is unfiltered and loud. Slick gushes between your legs.

“Good girl,” he gasps. “You too.”

It takes you a while to understand what Oberyn means. You only become aware that he was addressing Ellaria when the other joins you, licking a stripe up the other side of his length. You moan as you take the head between your lips, meanwhile, Ellaria closes her lips around the base, sucking the delicate skin. A choked out moan parts his lips, not being able to keep still, his hips stutter, forcing you to take more of him. His width spreads your lips wide. Your eyes water and you feel Ellaria’s tongue as she kisses the skin right under your eye.

She replaces your lips with her own. You watch in a dazed manner as she takes Oberyn down her throat with practiced ease. His fingers tangle into her curls when she hollows her cheeks, forcing her head down. The sight alone makes you drip for them both. Now feeling even bold, you meet Ellaria’s lips while she’s sucking on the tip. You swear you see a ghost of a grin when she slips her tongue into your mouth. You taste a mixture of them in your mouth, and your head spins. Not wanting to part away, both of you lower yourselves, taking Oberyn between your lips as your tongues struggle to meet around his cock.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, cock twitching between the pair of lips. You feel his rough fingers moving along your cheek. “You’re doing so well—both of you are,” Ellaria pulls away and winks at you before turning to Oberyn. You take him halfway into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat. He makes a sound, burying his head further into the pillows. “If you continue doing that I’m going to come.”

The sound of his voice lights a flame in you, the strokes of your tongue becoming more wild and eager. You swallow around him, over and over, until Ellaria pulls you away.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you choke out, eyes flitting between the two. “I want you to come,” you then add, jerking him.

“Oh it is,” he answers with a sly smile. “But before that, I want to see you come undone on my tongue. And my cock.”

Ellaria feels you shudder as she traces the line of your spine, “Get on all fours,” she says barely in a whisper.

You do as you’re told. Arousal coils tightly in your stomach, your body burning from the inside out. You’re over-excited. Your breathing coming out in short, rushed pants. Oberyn gets behind you as Ellaria takes Oberyn’s place and pulls you between her delicate thighs. Your one arm instantly curls around one leg as you brace yourself with the other by flattening your palm over the mattress.

Oberyn’s fingers languidly slide down the curve of your ass and slip two of them into your soaking heat with ease. You melt into the touch, your elbow immediately giving way and falling. Without thinking much you kiss the inside of Ellaria’s thighs, sucking and nipping her ample flesh. Oberyn begins to thrust his fingers in and out. Your walls flutter around the digits, your body growing tenses.

“So wet,” he approves. “You must be very excited.”

“F-Fuck, I am,” you whimper, attempting to meet the thrust of his fingers.

He scissors his fingers and curls them, applying pressure to a delicate spot deep inside. A jolt of electricity rushes over you. Your body engulfed in a crackling heat.

“Taste her,” he says. “Aren’t you curious?”

Instead of answering, you meet Ellaria’s gaze before pressing your lips into her cunt. You moan into her, and she draws up her legs, bracketing you between the inside of her thighs. She cradles the back of your head with both hands, guiding you as you drag your tongue between her folds. She tastes fucking delicious. You love this, love giving her pleasure. With a hum, you close your lips around her aching clit and suck. Hard.

Her body jolts, the bed underneath creaking. Oberyn swears from underneath his breath, and you imagine him staring at Ellaria’s debouched face. You bet she looks beautiful. Nudging the bundle of nerves with the curve of your nose, you tease her entrance with your tongue, slowly pushing in.

“And you worried you would be timid,” she croaks out, her back arching as she tugs you closer. “Look at you now, my sweet girl doing such a good job in pleasing us.”

Oberyn’s fingers are replaced with his sinful tongue, heat drips from your spine. Without wanting to, you pull away from Ellaria, moaning loudly between her legs. His tongue delves deeper, kissing your folds and lapping at everything you have to offer. He grazes his teeth and you writhe against him, your lips moving sloppily along the apex of her thighs as you attempt to kiss her.

His tongue feels too damn long. . . he pushes the soft muscle inside, the mild stretch making your stomach roll. Oberyn is much better at this than you are. No doubt about it. Ellaria only watches as the most sinful sounds escape your throat. He fucks you with his tongue and between thrusts, he manages to flick your clit with the pointed tip. It makes you feral. You’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore. You continue to taste Ellaria, albeit much more sloppily compared to before. You catch her gaze whenever the fog in your head lifts, her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded.

“I think you’re ready to take me,” Oberyn says, his voice hoarse.

Before you can answer, Ellaria cups your cheeks, pulling you away from her core. Your chest heaves. She swipes her thumb over your lips, spreading the wetness caused by her cunt. “I want you to pick a word, love.”

“A word?” you cringe internally at how out of it you sound. They haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a mess.

“A safeword,” Oberyn explains Ellaria’s words further. His hands grip your love handles and squeeze them tenderly, he pulls you back and you feel the warmth of his cock heavy on your ass.

You think for a minute, your eyes darting around Ellaria’s face and the wall behind her. Your mind is completely empty. Blank. Not even one word comes to mind.

Oberyn licks his lips, “How about that stoplight system? Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop?”

Ellaria’s gaze searches your own, and you nod, “That sounds good.”

“Alright then,” Oberyn purrs, etching closer. He slides his cock between your folds, his hands skimming up your waist. Ellaria continues to hold your face, watching your every expression with interest. Your eyes widen— is she waiting to see your expression when Oberyn enters you? Fuck. Heat blossoms in your chest. “What is your color now?” he asks, hand cupping the back of your neck.

“Green,” you say with a whimper.

Oberyn pushes in inch by inch. He stretches you beautifully, only a hint of pain following while he fills you. Ellaria smiles as your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a guttural sound. He feels so good. So deep. When he’s fully sheathed inside, he waits for you to adjust to his size. Your legs shake. You’re barely keeping yourself together. Ellaria slips her thumb into your mouth and you wrap your lips around her diligently. She hums with approval.

“Does she feel good?” Ellaria asks Oberyn.

“Yes. She feels like she was made for me. Such a perfect hole to fill.”

You shudder, dripping down his cock and the inside of your thighs. “Oh god—” you choke out, your voice thick.

Ellaria releases you when Oberyn rocks his hips impatiently. Your cheek drops to her thigh and with a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to her cunt, slowly slipping two of them inside. You know she wasn’t expecting it when her head snaps back. You can’t help the little smile that graces your lips. Her heat consumes you. Oberyn’s thrusts become faster, harder, sinking deep into your cunt. And with every stroke of his cock, your fingers go deeper into Ellaria.

It’s a beautiful mess.

You’re not sure how thin the walls are, you hope that they’re thick. You mentally apologize to the neighbors if not because none of you are making an effort to keep quiet. Ellaria grinds to meet your fingers, meanwhile, Oberyn’s cock is splitting you into two. His pace is brutal, you feel your skin rippling as his hips snap into you. Honestly, you’re not even trying to move your hand anymore, it’s all Oberyn—So technically, he’s fucking two people at once.

Suddenly you find yourself being shoved into Ellaria’s delectable cunt, Oberyn pushes you down, blunt nails biting into your scalp. With a groan, you once again close your lips around her clit and suck. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, then gently —almost fearfully due to the harsh grind of Oberyn’s hips— you graze your teeth.

Ellaria cries out, a sound that takes you by surprise. Between wet eyelashes, you watch as her face contorts in pleasure, her walls squeezing your fingers tight. Her clit throbs against your tongue and just like that, she’s gushing heavily into your mouth. Oberyn’s movements slow, his brutal pace becoming a lazy one as his cock massages your walls. You have a feeling he’s watching her as well.

Noticing that she’s crying out both your names, your pulse quickens.

You pull out your fingers and hold her hips, wet streaks glisten on top of her sun-kissed skin. Burying your mouth deep within her folds, you allow your tongue to lick the remains. Another, more gentle, orgasm washes over her, the cries from before becoming sighs of languid pleasure.

“Good girl,” Oberyn growls, his hand becomes a necklace around your neck and he hauls you up. He shoves his lips against your ear, the tremor of his voice making you tremble. “You know, I’ve never seen her come quite that hard with the others. She must like you a lot, pet.”

fuckfuckfuck

The way he rolls his tongue as he says it, pet—you don’t expect it to affect you that much but it does, your entire body tenses, his cock easing in and out of you even faster thanks to the way you gush around him.

“You like that?”

Shit, he noticed.

“I—I—”

He grabs your chin and clashes your lips in a bruising kiss. Oberyn leaves you breathless, your lungs convulse, burning with the lack of oxygen. You taste a hint of yourself on his tongue.

“Our sweet pet,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re stunning like this, all fucked out.”

Oberyn kisses you once more then turns to Ellaria with a smile, “I can still taste you on her tongue.”

“I would think so. She was quite thorough,” she teases, her gaze fixed on you.

Ellaria touches herself slowly as Oberyn resumes his brutal pace. Wet noises flood the dimly lit room, Oberyn buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder. You feel the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth. Your loins burn.

Oberyn dangles you on the edge of a cliff. Every time you’re close to your release, he slows his hips into a gentle roll, only to build you up again. Ellaria simply watches, gently drawing tender circles while Oberyn toys with you. Their pet.

“Please,” you beg. “I want to come.”

You sound teary and embarrassed. Oberyn kisses your neck. “You have been good,” he murmurs, eyes moving to Ellaria. “What do you say?”

“Let her come,” she sighs, smiling. “Make it feel good for her, Oberyn.”

Oberyn makes a sound of eager approval. His one hand slips between your legs as the other grasp your breast, keeping your sweat-soaked body flush against him. His fingers draw tight, quick circles around your clit as he presses into you, hips smacking against your flesh over and over.

It doesn’t take you long after that.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck—hell, it hits you like a train. It’s violent, intense. Every muscle grows taut and your skin tingles as if it’s burned. You can’t even cry out properly, your mouth wide in a silent scream. Something warm trickles down your thighs, and if it wasn’t for Oberyn’s constant, steady praise in your ear you would’ve been embarrassed. But instead, you just slump against him. Your body feeling limp as if you might never be able to stand again. He rolls his hips, and each time waves of pleasure wash over you, it’s not as intense, but it feels amazing.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

Your nod is followed by a hiss when he does, the sudden lack of him making you feel empty, and frankly, a little bit sad. However, you don’t get the chance to linger on the feeling as Oberyn guides you toward the empty spot next to Ellaria.

She holds you in a tight embrace, whispering praise into your hair. Oberyn shuffles until he’s behind her, his arm draped over her waist. His cock is still hard and heavy between his legs, glistening with your slick.

You ask weakly to Oberyn, “What about you?”

“Always so thoughtful,” Ellaria purrs. She throws her arm back, pulling Oberyn close by the neck. He kisses a delicate path up that follows the curve of her neck. “You don’t need to worry about him. Just relax. . . and enjoy yourself.”

When Oberyn sinks into her, you understand why Ellaria was so eager to watch your expression.

You stare into the small bathroom mirror above the sink, the light irritating your eyes. You’re fresh out of the shower, naked, still dripping, the drops warm as it slides down your skin. Ellaria’s reflection comes into view, also naked, her hands delicately moving over your body, examing to see if you’re hurt anywhere.

“How do you feel?” she asks, satisfied with her examination.

“I’m fine,” you answer dismissively, still staring at your reflection. You feel detached, your limbs slow and tenderly aching.

Oberyn squeezes a tub of minty toothpaste over the bristles of your brush and holds your chin. Instinctively, you turn to him. He gently pinches your jaw. You open your mouth.

He starts to brush your teeth. This man you just met, this man who just railed the ever-living shit out of you. . . is tenderly brushing your teeth. You taste the mint and without meaning to, you wrinkle your nose. He laughs.

“It’ll be over soon.”

The thing that makes you tear up is how delicate they are with you. It’s unexpected. They don't think you’re invincible just from your looks. They see that you’re broken, see that you want to be taken care of. And they humor you, treating you as you wish to be treated, without you having to say so.

They touch you as if you are a glass rose. It makes your chest ache.

“I think I have ointment somewhere,” Ellaria mutters to herself, turning on her heel and looking over the shelves. “It will soothe your skin.”

The small sniffle you make goes unnoticed by Ellaria but not Oberyn. With a raised eyebrow, he pulls out the toothbrush. “Rinse,” he says simply. He turns on the faucet for you and you fill your mouth with water. You swish it around. Then look to him before doing anything else. “Spit.”

You watch as the foamy water goes down the drain. You straighten back up, watching the reflections that dance in the mirror once more. You feel his eyes on you but you’re too flustered to answer his gaze. Ellaria holds a small container of ointment, when she sees your expression her brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you mumble, not truly knowing the answer yourself. Oberyn opens the faucet again and rinses the toothbrush. After placing it back, he brushes his lips over yours, the gesture sparking life back into your body. “I don’t know,” you then say. “It just feels all so nice, I’m not used to. . . I don’t know, sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Ellaria says, opening the small container. She takes a hefty amount with two fingers and rubs it into the tender skin of your asscheeks. “It’s normal. You haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s common to feel a bit of a drop after.”

“Is it really?” you ask.

Oberyn answers you instead, “It is. You’ll feel much better when we’re back in bed when you’re between us.”

Ellaria nods and you manage to smile. With a soft chuckle, you shake your head. “You two are too nice to me.”

“The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising you this much,” Oberyn’s gaze softens. “But we’ll fix that.”

As the two guide you back to the bedroom, you believe they will.

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