I can’t speak – only moan, my body twitching around his cock. Bones slides another finger into me, then two, stretching me thrillingly wide, and I feel it – crackling, building, everything pointed toward that edge. Nightshade leans over, eyes dark with need, mouth at my ear. “Come for us, love.”
His words push me off the edge. I implode around him, the first release rippling through every muscle.
But they're not finished—not even close.
Bones takes his turn next, flipping me over while I'm still trembling. I scream his name, begging for mercy that never comes.
Hours blur.
Nightshade claims me again, relentless until I'm sobbing, ruined. They take turns breaking me apart, rebuilding me just to shatter me again.
Dawn finds us still tangled, sweat-slick and breathless. I've lost count of how many times they've made me come undone.I’m not empty. I’m full of their heat, their claim, my own fierce choice.
When morning light filters in, we're a boneless heap—my voice hoarse, my body marked, owned. I stay—choosing this beautiful destruction over the emptiness of before. Their hands roam gently now – tracing, memorising every inch.
Bones’ fingers lace with mine, thumb stroking my palm. “Chosen,” he whispers.
Nightshade presses a reverent kiss to my collarbone. “Mine,” he murmurs.
Not a demand.
An agreement.
I nod against the pillow.
Not because he won.
BecauseIdecided.
And for now, that’s enough.
WHAT HAPPENS AFTER
Superfan - Bhones
Honey
Nightshade and Bones are gone when I get up the next day, get ready and head to Kayla’s room, and the room feels bigger for it, even if everyone else has already beaten me there.
The air feels like something heavy’s been shifted off the chest of the place. Kayla doesn’t announce it. She doesn’t need to. Their absence speaks for itself in the way the air sits, in the way no one’s voice immediately sharpens when someone else moves.
Kayla’s perched on the edge of the bed by the window, knees drawn up, coffee cooling untouched on the table beside her. She looks…lighter. Not relaxed. Just unbraced. Like she’s given herself permission to breathe for a few hours and is daring the world to object.
“They’re not allowed back today,” she says, flat, when she catches me looking. Not asking for agreement. Informing. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
I nod once. Hatchet does the same from the chair near the door. He hasn’t written anything yet. No pad in his hands. No need.
Kayla rolls her shoulders, then drops her feet to the floor. “I just want some time with you lot.” A pause, fractional. “Without…all that.”
She doesn’t say their names again. She doesn’t have to.
No one argues. No one fills the silence. Snow isn’t here to scoff or pace or mutter about bad odds. The room holds, waiting to see if anyone will challenge her.
No one does.
The quiet isn’t awkward. That’s the thing that catches. We’re too used to friction. Too used to every decision being a negotiation with teeth.
I check the time on my phone, then the mess of bags stacked against the wall. We’re running low on anything edible that doesn’t come in foil or taste like regret.
