#exit anxiety is real

[the-most-humble-blog]

<div style="white-space:pre-wrap"> <meta surveillance-anxiety="maximum"> <script>ARCHIVE_TAG="RECEIPT_CHECK_PROTOCOL::CITIZEN_SHAME_CYCLE" EFFECT: supermarket paranoia, trauma recall, public exit hesitation </script>

🚨 YOU PAID FOR YOUR SH*T, SO WHY DO YOU FEEL LIKE A CRIMINAL AT THE SUPERMARKET EXIT? *aka: The Existential Dread of Walking Past the Receipt Checker*

You just survived the hellscape of grocery shopping.

You’ve:

Dodged slow walkers

Side-stepped the free sample snipers

Waited behind the couple scanning 83 coupons

Paid $84.26 for six items and your remaining dignity

And now?

> As you approach the exit, your body tightens like you're carrying a kilo of cocaine and a lie detector.

You KNOW you didn’t steal anything. And yet you feel like a con artist on parole. Like the alarm’s going to beep just to humble you.

🛑 THE RECEIPT CHECK GAUNTLET: A PUBLIC SHAME RITUAL IN 3 ACTS

✔️ Cashier: “Would you like your receipt?” → You say no. Bold. Confident. Free.

✔️ Five steps later: The Exit Goblin materializes. Hand outstretched. Eyes untrusting.

✔️ You: Now fumbling, sweaty, scanning every pocket like a magician with amnesia.

> “Do you have your receipt?” > Do YOU have a warrant, Janet?

🧠 THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SUPERMARKET SURVEILLANCE It’s not about theft. It’s about humiliation just ambiguous enough to seem justified.

They’re not checking your receipt. They’re checking your vibe.

Are you too confident? Sus.

Too awkward? Guilt detected.

Too calm? Clearly a professional.

Breathing weird? That’s textbook deviant.

> You could be holding nothing but gum and sadness, > and still feel like you’re about to be tackled by Loss Prevention.

📉 THE RECEIPT CHECK HIERARCHY OF PUBLIC DISTRUST

1️⃣ The Free Range Checkout (No Receipt Check) You pay. You leave. No questions. > "We have cameras, Karen. Walk in peace."

2️⃣ The Glance & Go (Social Theater) You flash a folded receipt. They nod at the air. > This is roleplay. Nobody’s reading anything.

3️⃣ The Interrogation Table They check item by item. Squint. Flip the paper. > Congratulations: You’re now part of a grocery sting operation.

4️⃣ Costco Gulag Protocol You don’t leave until someone with a Sharpie gives you permission. Lost your receipt? > Prepare to negotiate like you're asking to see your kids again.

🛒 THE SELF-CHECKOUT PARADOX You do ALL the work. Scan your own items. Bag them. Pay like a good capitalist cog.

And then…

> “We still need to check your stuff.” > FOR WHAT?! I was the f*cking cashier.

Meanwhile:

Real thieves: walking out with two carts and Bluetooth headsets.

Employees: pretending not to see while restocking shrimp.

You: being detained over a f*cking granola bar.

> If your security system can’t tell the difference between a banana and a crime, > maybe don’t point it at me.

🧪 THE CONTROL EXPERIMENT: YOUR BODY LANGUAGE ON TRIAL

Let’s be real.

This isn’t just about theft prevention. It’s about training you to prove your innocence in public.

You’re performing calmness.

You’re performing morality.

You’re performing “harmlessness.”

And guess what?

> Even though you bought everything legally… > You still feel like the guilty party in a true crime documentary.

💡 THE ABSURDITY OF MODERN “TRUST”

Stores trust you enough to:

Swipe your card

Enter your pin

Type your f*cking email

Donate to children’s hospitals at checkout

Enroll in their rewards program

But not enough to… leave with a frozen pizza and shampoo without cross-examination?

🔥 FINAL VERDICT — I’M DONE FEELING LIKE A THIEF FOR BUYING TOILET PAPER

I don’t want to:

Justify my Cheerios

Defend my almond milk

Prove my worth as a shopper

Perform innocence for a $3.49 candy bar

> If I paid, I’m gone. > If you stop me, I’m billing for the performance. > If you want me to prove I’m not stealing, give me a badge and a vest, > because I’m clearly doing more work than half your staff.

Let me leave in peace. Or let me profile the real shoplifters. Because I promise you: > It ain’t the guy holding string cheese and shame.

---

🔁 Reblog if you’ve ever walked past the receipt checker like you just buried a body. 💬 Comment if you’ve ever faked chill while your soul screamed “I BOUGHT THIS!” 👁 Follow if you’re ready to abolish capitalist shame theater at the exit door. 🧾 This is not a post. This is the receipt for every time you’ve paid and still felt like a felon.

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[voxofthevoid]

Heard my mother's soul leave her body today when I called her to let her know that I'm now bleeding out of an orifice I shouldn't be bleeding out of while she was at the hospital with her boyfriend who was also bleeding out of an orifice he shouldn't be bleeding out of.

[absentlyabbie]

usamericans, if you get a call from someone purporting to be a usps postal inspection service agent notifying you that your name is down as the sender on a "suspicious package" seized in x state (probably not yours) just hang the hell up.

they will try to scare you and say that you will be reported as the sender of something that breaks federal law and you'll be entry/exit restricted and be placed on "red flag lists." they'll namedrop the department of homeland security and ominously warn you that failing to cooperate means you will be federally investigated.

they will even, if you ask for it, give you an undoubtedly fake name of the supposed agent with employee#, and even a case or "document" number.

and they will try to pressure you with some bullshit short turnaround deadline or time limit to complete x or y action within 2 hours or whatever.

it's suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch bullshit.

i got this call today and man if it hadn't literally woken me up with me answering it blindly, i wouldn't have let the call go on as long as it did, but it was at least... illuminating.

remember:

government agencies, especially federal agencies, will pretty much never cold call you.

they will mail you anything actually important/requiring action from you.

do not, DO NOT ever give them any information about you over the phone.

(seriously this woman wanted me to tell her what online shopping sites i'd recently entered identifying information into, there's no fucking reason to know that and even that shit gives information about you, your patterns and habits, and places that may be hackable which you'd have an account with.)

always, ALWAYS hang up, whether you demand the agent name/number/etc as i did or not, locate the real, official contact number for the agency supposedly contacting you, and call them directly to verify it was bullshit/possibly report the scam call.

i got passed through 3 different actual humans at the USPIS, all of whom responded with varying degrees of "uhh that sounds like bullshit/a scam" (i did delight in the one lady who lamented she couldn't call me back to find out how the ridiculous saga ended.)

the scam caller i spoke with was a polite, professional sounding woman who kept a calm tone and patiently responded to all my demands, repeatedly "assured" me she that she wouldn't request my personal details over the phone and that the call was being recorded, and she kept the conversation going for as long as she could milk even the tiniest kernel of "is there any realm in which this could be legit" doubt in me.

she was unphased when i told her point-blank it sounded like a scam, and she had the undoubtedly fake employee name/number/etc on hand when i demanded it, even providing a washington dc street address.

she even closed the call by telling me how she respected how wary i was that this might be a fraudulent call.

one last time, you get a weird call like this?

do not panic, do not be overwhelmed with anxiety.

do not be pressured by stress or supposed time limits.

DO NOT GIVE ANY OF YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION TO THE CALLER.

if you've already confirmed your name, that's already more than you want to; stop there. yes girl, give them NOTHING.

HANG UP.

INDEPENDENTLY VERIFY THROUGH OFFICIAL CHANNELS.

block the number and report it as spam.

do not panic. hang up. directly verify through official channels.

may my morning misadventure let you be wary of any such bullshit headed your way.

[kalashtars]

so i started being active on twitter in vtuber circles and... tell me why it's SOOO scary interacting with people on there omg. but also i'm incapable of shutting the fuck up so. truly living in constant anxiety

[dollfacefantasy]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL PT.2 ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: you, jason, and dick have grown closer in the time since their little competition. now that dick has been officially added to your case, new feelings crop up, and the three of you try to figure out what the next month together will really mean.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral sex (all receiving), fingering, threesome, nightmare, mentions of past trauma + violence, daddy issues

wc: 11.1k

a/n: hii everyone. sorry this took me so long. i'm still not sure how i feel about it, but i'm happy to finally have it out. bear with me because this chapter is leading into the rest of the story, and this will be my first multi-chapter fic. as of now, i have seven parts outlined. all that i ask is that you guys not pressure me between chapters cause that makes me feel really burnt out lol. they'll be out when they're out i promise. anyways reblogs + comments always appreciated <3

part 1

Just as he had one week ago, Dick currently stood in the small elevator cabin watching the numbers above the door light up from left to right. With his car keys in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other, he waited for the now-familiar chime of arrival to ding.

It came only moments later. This trip felt much shorter than the first. He wasn’t buzzing with anticipation or running scenarios through his mind to prepare for what lie ahead. This time around, he knew what waited for him inside the apartment, and it wasn’t anything that caused him anxiety.

The sleek exit parted and allowed him into the penthouse. His keys jingled as he walked through the entrance hall to the double doors at the end. They were open now. From the living room, he could hear some grunting, Jason, and some laughter, you.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. You two had been going at it when he woke up this morning, and after he joined in, for a couple hours more. He couldn’t even really be irritated that you were still doing it while he was gone. Instead, he just wondered about what kind of super stamina the both of you possessed that made it possible to be rubbing up against each other all this time later.

Though, it wasn’t like this came as a surprise to him. Since the morning of the little competition last weekend, you and Jason fucked like you used to fight. All the time you spent glaring at him and stamping your feet, now found you with your eyes rolled back as you bounced on his cock. Your pouty huffs morphed into giggly smiles and pitchy moans. And Jason’s tense demeanor had melted into the more casual one Dick was familiar with.

This seemed like the best case scenario. Compared to other jobs, this one came closer to being a vacation. Presented with this situation out of context, it would honestly have seemed more like a fever dream to Dick than anything that could have been real. Sharing a girl with Jason wasn’t something he ever really planned on, but it just kind of fell into place here. There weren’t any rules or schedules. The three of you just took it moment by moment, and so far, that worked.

He had no complaints. He still got plenty of time with you too, and he no longer had to play mediator 24/7. It was a bit amusing, how simple the solution to all Jason’s strife really turned out to be. If only he had started with this, maybe he could have saved himself that first week’s worth of headaches.

Dick entered the living room, expecting to catch you bent over the back of the sofa or spread out across the dining table, but he saw no such thing. In fact, he didn’t see you or Jason at all. He almost paused. A quick bolt of worry shot through him. Realistically, he knew the two of you were fine. Jason was more than capable, and he heard your laughter. But after years of protection orders, he still hadn’t found a way to suppress that instinct to find something wrong.

It was only seconds later he spotted you over on the other side of the room beyond the end of the couch. Your head popped up and down into his line of sight. Relief coursed through him in a rush. Crossing the wooden floor, he walked a few paces closer to see what was happening.

And he did find you on top of Jason, just not in the way he anticipated. Instead, you were parked on the younger man’s back while his body rose and fell in a set of push-ups. A grunt slipped from his lips with every flex of his biceps. From behind, you played with his hair. He’d been going at this a while if the sweat trickling down his temple and staining the collar of his t-shirt were any indicators.

“Hey, you two. Whenever you feel like getting off the floor, I brought your food,” Dick said, raising the plastic bag and giving it a light shake.

Your head zipped in his direction, eyes sparkling impossibly brighter at the mention of your dinner’s arrival. You hopped up off the muscular back supporting you. Despite wearing a cute, pink workout set, not a drop of sweat coated your skin.

Jason, meanwhile, rolled over with a quiet groan. He ran a hand over his face to wipe some of the perspiration away. “Be there in a second.”

You pranced up to Dick and wrapped him an excited hug. After nuzzling into his chest for a second, you tilted your head upwards.

“Did you get the extra rangoons?” you asked, batting your lashes at him as if there was any way he could have forgotten your special request that you’d repeated at least ten times before he left.

“Of course. Think I would’ve left the car keys behind before driving away without your rangoons,” he teased.

With a small cheer, you swiped the bag from his hand and headed in the direction of the kitchen to deal out the food.

“Wow, not even a thank you?” Dick called after you while trailing behind.

“Thank you, Dick!” you chirped.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, coming up beside you at the marble countertop. Red containers appeared one by one across the sleek surface as you unloaded them from the bag. Leaning in, he planted a gentle kiss on your cheekbone. “Bodyguards, workout partners, takeout delivery, and now teaching you manners? You got us working a tall order here, babe,” he murmured.

“I didn’t ask for all that. I think you guys just like doing extra stuff for me cause you know I make it worth your while,” you shrugged with a little smirk on your face as you placed the last box of noodles on the island.

Your haughty display was fast interrupted though as two thick arms snuck around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You squealed as Jason twisted around and placed you out of the way of the meals.

“Did I hear you say you don’t ask for any of that stuff? What were you doing earlier then?” he mocked as he stepped up to the counter and popped open a small container.

“Hey!” you pouted, trying to shove him over so you could have access to all the food again. Your feet slid on the smooth floor as you floundered against him. It took Jason literally no effort to resist your pushing. His large frame did the job all on its own. “I didn’t ask you for anything. You just wanted me on top of you.”

“Mhm, sure. I must have imagined every time you said ‘Jason, what are you doing?’ ‘Jason, I’m bored,’ ‘Jason, let me help,’” Jason imitated before shoveling a forkful of garlic-glazed beef into his mouth

You huffed and circled around to the other side of the counter to grab your bag of rangoons. “Whatever. I still didn’t ask you for anything,” you grumbled.

“Did you really need to when you took the initiative and just climbed on my back?” he mocked.

You scoffed, but both of them could see hints of a smile pulling at your lips. Since you’d become closer to them, winning or losing a minor argument didn’t have an effect on your mood. It was the mere attention that got you going.

In the midst of your back and forth, Dick grabbed the now-empty takeout bag. The plastic crinkled as he crumpled it between his hands on the way to the trash.

Jason glanced over at him. “How’d the meeting go?” he asked, playfulness fading from his expression as work became the topic of conversation.

“Good,” he nodded, reaching for a small box of his own, “We’re all set. We’ll both be assigned here for the remaining four weeks.”

“You managed to convince the old man she needs two people on babysitting duty? How’d you pull that off?” Jason asked with a raised brow.

“You’ll really both get to stay here?” you asked from your side of the island. Your eyes gleamed with hope rather than excitement, as if you still couldn’t believe it was true.

Dick answered you first with another nod before responding to Jason. “I just explained that given her eventful social life and… willful temperament, it would be more convenient on our end to have two people on her case.”

“And he believed you? He didn’t get suspicious?” you checked.

“I think he bought it. He really didn’t ask anything that gave the impression he thought something was off,” he reassured. 

To his relief, you, like your father, didn’t question his vague statements either. If you did, he’d have to figure out how to dance around the exact details of the conversation. He wasn’t really eager to rehash how your own flesh and blood spoke about you.

He thought before arriving at the Senator elect’s office that this would be an uphill battle. Those who didn’t want to use the word controlling would describe your father as protective, but no one would call the man stupid. He knew the reality of this situation just as well as Dick and Jason. There was no party in this arrangement who believed you were in real danger. So why on Earth would he agree that you needed two full-time guards when the one you already had barely did enough to justify his presence?

But the silver-haired man greeted Dick with an election-winning smile and firm handshake. He nodded along to each piece of what he said about you, as if he was absorbing every word like it was law. And when Dick reached the part about your aforementioned attitude and packed schedule, it went off without a hitch.

He eased into it, starting tentatively and bracing for pushback. “She’s adjusting now. Her and my partner are getting along, and we haven’t had any other issues since those first couple days, which is normal. Everyone takes a bit to get used to a second shadow,” he said in an attempt to keep things light. “I was only thinking she might benefit from having a detail of two since she has a few events to attend over the next few weeks and she can be… very set in her ways.”

Your father chuckled while leaning back in his leather chair. “Oh, you don’t have to sugarcoat it. I know how she can be. I love my daughter, but there’s a reason she doesn’t live with me anymore.”

Dick blinked in response at first. Logic would point to the fact that you were an adult aged into her twenties as a potential reason you might live alone. However, he figured that defending you would have aroused suspicion, so he kept his mouth shut, smirking and nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, uh… she’s something else.”

Your father nodded with a knowing laugh. “She knows how to bitch and moan till she gets exactly what she wants better than just about anyone. Think she learned it from her mother,” he sighed in a way that almost sounded fond. “You’re the expert, so if you think you need two guys to deal with her, have at it. You won’t hear any complaints out of me.”

Two guys to deal with her. Have at it.

If only he knew.

You pulled him out of the recollection with a bright smile. “Oh my gosh, this is great!” you cheered. “This is like the nicest thing he’s ever done for me. Not that he knows it. If he did, he probably woulda said no.”

Jason moved on too, going right along with your happy mood. “Great, huh? This the same girl who was doing everything she could to get me out of here just last week?”

“Yes. You’re the one who’s different. You’re someone I actually like having around now. Kinda,” you responded with a coy eyes.

For whatever reason, Dick just couldn’t share the same playful attitude. This was probably the one time in their lives that Jason had him beat on the front of being pleasant. He couldn’t pin down the exact cause, but seeing you now, with your sweet little smiles and muffled laughs after hearing someone who was supposed to protect you paint you as nothing more than an airhead, dug a dent of sadness into his normal nonchalant temperament. He knew your father wasn’t winning any awards for his parenting. However, bearing witness to his casual dismissal struck deeper than he expected.

But you and Jason continued to banter back and forth without a care in the world, so he tried to appear lighthearted for the remainder of dinner.

The three of you talked and ate in the way that had become routine after only a week. Things weren’t tense and argumentative anymore. Now that frustrations had been dealt with, it was easy to riff with one another about music you liked or movies you hated. They’d tell you the occasional story about an old case while you divulged past drama.

After the supply of food across the counter began to dwindle, the three of you worked in tandem to clear away the trash and put away any leftovers. With their help, the surface was clear in no time. You leaned back against the island, your palms flat on the smooth surface with your shoulders angled outwards.

“So…” you started, mischief swirling in your eyes as you looked between them. “What do you guys wanna do now?”

It was no secret what you were after. Your stance gave the two of them a nice view of your cleavage in that tight workout top. And how you looked between them through your lashes left no question about what kind of activities you were hoping would come next.

Jason shook his head. His face held a similar sense of trouble, only it lacked the lustful charge that motivated your own. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m gonna take a quick shower before anything else,” he said, already stepping in the direction of the stairs.

A scoff came from your lips. “What? No fun,” you said and started after him. “At least let us join…”

You reached out to touch his bicep, but Jason’s larger hand grabbed your wrist, preventing you.

“Your shower’s big but not enough for three people,” he said. “Plus, you got a bad case of wandering hands, princess. I want a quick shower. If I let you come with me, we’ll be in there till we’re both waterlogged .”

“But-” you started, your voice already getting a tad whiny.

He clicked his tongue at you, hushing you like an owner would do to their pet’s whines. “You’ve been with me all day. I’m sure Dick can take care of you for a little bit,” he said.

It was a gentle rebuff, but it was sincere. You tried one last attempt at pouting to no avail. He let go of your arm and headed off.

Your sad puffy lips tightened into a more resigned line. You were clearly intent on remaining unaffected. Only a beat passed before you turned and pranced over to Dick.

“He’s no fun,” you said as you snuck your arms around his waist for a hug.

You could be so touchy, but that wasn’t a problem for him. One of his arms slung across your shoulders while his other hand rubbed the curved space just above your ass.

“Sorry you have to stick with your second choice,” he said with a small pinch to your waist.

He meant it as a joke and nothing more. Even though you had been a bit clingier to Jason as of late, he felt no jealousy over it. It was understandable, chasing after the one who made a chase necessary. But if your face was any indication, the teasing nature of the words didn’t fully come across.

You tilted your head upwards, looking at him with a hint of real concern woven into your furrowed brows.

“You’re not my second choice,” you corrected. “I don’t have a favorite or anything. I like both you guys equally. I just know you’ll hang out with me if I want, so I don’t have to ask.” 

Your arms curled around him tighter like a pair of hungry vipers. You put your head against his chest again, right over his heart. His hand continued its gentle motions on your back while he looked down at you. He was content to leave your explanation as it was, but he could feel the unsaid words prodding at you, almost nudging at him by extension.

“I was just joking, babe. Promise,” he said and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

You glanced up at him once more. “…I just don’t want you guys to like… feel like it’s a competition or anything. I like both of you a lot, and I don’t wanna mess this up.”

“You’re not messing anything up,” he reassured without thinking about it. You seemed oddly vulnerable about this, and after earlier, he didn’t want you to have any reason to feel insecure with them. He pressed you right up against him and squeezed your shoulder. “I was just making a stupid joke. If I had a real problem, I wouldn’t be holding you like this, alright?” He smiled a little to further his point.

“Alright…” you said, nodding against his chest.

He pecked your forehead as if to punctuate the words. “Good. No more worrying about anything like that. Let’s go find something to do while he’s showering. I’m sure when he’s done he’ll be sniffing around you again.”

You smiled back at that. Rising onto your tiptoes, you stole a quick kiss from him before dropping your hand to grab his and pull him in the direction of the stairs.

“Oh my goshhhh. He’s taking FOREVER in there,” you called out, saying the last bit loud enough so that it’d be audible through the bathroom door.

For someone who claimed they wanted a “quick” shower, Jason was taking his sweet time in your bathroom. At least by your standards anyways.

Your bedroom ended up being the place for you and Dick to hang out while waiting for the third member of your trio. You preferred it for obvious reasons, but clearly so did Jason since he chose to freshen up in the ensuite rather than the bathroom down the hall.

Dick didn’t mind it either. It was the largest of the three bedrooms. The windows had the best view, showing off how the nearby river twinkled under the sunset. And at night, anyone inside got a good look at the sparkling skyline. The bed was the softest and the biggest, but best of all, it was totally yours.

Objectively, the other two were comfortable, but in here, everything smelled like you. Every surface was your favorite color. He could almost imagine you picking out each fine detail. Stepping into this room felt like stepping into a little world of your creation.

His eyes drifted around it now. After the conversation with your father earlier, he could almost see it in a new light. Everything from the elegant curtains to your glamorous vanity in the corner said you didn’t pay for it on your own. He wondered if you had to “bitch and moan” to get it the way you wanted. Or maybe you picked things based on what you thought would be acceptable. Or perhaps because it was something that brought you joy, he wasn’t involved at all.

A little huff from you brought him out of his thoughts.

“What’s he doing in there? Shaving his legs?” you grumbled, sinking back into the mountain of plush pillows behind your head. You crossed your arms and kept your eyes on the TV ahead. It played a random episode of one of your favorite shows, just something meant to be background noise.

Dick chuckled at your persistent impatience and snuck an arm around your shoulders. “You know, I doubt letting him hear how riled up waiting makes you is going to convince him to go faster. As much as you’ve gotten him to soften up, he still likes to annoy you,” he teased.

He kept you tucked to his side, his fingers running up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. You had changed out of your tight workout clothes in favor of something looser to relax in. While not as form fitting, the tiny pajamas you chose left just as much of you exposed to his eyes. His digits danced with the hem of your shorts every time they brushed the silky fabric. 

“I bet he’s jerking off in there,” you said suddenly, ignoring Dick’s statement completely. You glanced at him and then back at the bathroom door. Your eyes bore into the white wood like the mere possibility had insulted you personally.

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think he’s wasting time with his hand when you’re out here,” he said.

“Maybe… Or he’s doing it just to spite me,” you said, feigned accusation still present in your words.

Dick’s gaze lingered on you even after you’d settled into reluctant patience again. You met his stare with a questioning look. “What?” you asked.

He blinked, batting those lashes across his pretty blue irises. “What?” he said back.

Narrowing your eyes, you poked his cheek. “You’re being weird. You’re all quiet and staring… It’s suspicious.”

“Maybe I was just looking at how cute you are right now, all puffed up cause you can’t be patient,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes and leaned into him a bit more, as if he could provide relief from getting flustered. “Nuh uh. I look cute all the time, so that’s not it,” you said. “You just look like something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me. I’m fine,” he reassured you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, clearly not satisfied. Then it was as if two little wires connected in your head. “It’s nothing about earlier, is it? My dad didn’t tell you something stupid or embarrassing and scare you off, did he?”

He shook his head with a breathy husk of a laugh. “No, nothing like that,” he denied. With how close you were to hitting the mark, he could only wonder how long ago it happened before.

“Ok... just… You know you could tell me if something was wrong. Even if it wasn’t about work or whatever. I know we’re not like friends… and we haven’t known each other that long. But you could always talk to me about real stuff if you ever needed to,” you offered.

“I know that. But I swear, nothing’s up, alright? Do you ever have one of those days where you feel more stuck in your head than usual? I think it’s just one of those,” he said with a kind smile.

You nodded, willing yourself to accept the answer. “Jason must be having one of those too. He’s been gone for like forever and a half.”

“He probably just needs a moment of peace. You are pretty insatiable, and you’ve been all over him all day, climbing on his back and grabbing his arm,” he murmured with a couple playful squeezes to your own side and arm.

Your body twitched and squirmed in response to the little grabs. The sight drew a huffed laugh from him. He’d never met someone as responsive as you. Your body would light up from a few of the most simple touches.

“I’m not worse than you guys. You both are ready to go like all the time,” you said and slid your hand into his lap, trying to find a bulge.

“There’s a difference between being ready to go and being the one who instigates,” he said, grabbing your wrist and moving your hand onto his abs instead.

You didn’t resist the adjustment. Your fingers traced the rigid muscles in his stomach. You’d felt them so many times already, seen them just as much, but they still brought you a sense of wonder. Both of their bodies did. Before them, you had limited experience, and none of it took place with people who resembled divine beings so closely.

He chuckled at the look in your eyes. “You’re too easy, baby.”

Your cheeks heated up. You tried pulling your arm back to shove his head, but he kept it right where it was.

“It’s ok. You know Jay and I think it’s cute,” he said, continuing to gently mock.

He pecked your cheek, smugness found in his every feature. Leaning in closer, he laid a few soft kisses on your throat. Your breath hitched before you tilted your head to allow him more room. The near-instant compliance with his touch had him grinning against your neck. Even while being stubborn, you wouldn’t deny yourself any attention. And to be honest, he couldn’t see himself ever in a situation where he’d withhold it from you.

He took a deep breath, letting his lungs fill with your air. His arms tightened as his mouth parted and closed against your sensitive skin. The tip of his tongue swirled around your pulse point in the way he had come to learn you liked. Your hand pressed down on his abs a little harder just as a tiny moan escaped you.

In the same way that his body put you in awe, you cast a spell totally your own over him. Being so close felt like willfully submerging himself in aphrodisiacal quicksand. You were so soft and so warm under his hands, your flesh so malleable, practically hypnotizing to grope.

His palms glided over you with reverence. They moved slowly, but with enough pressure to exemplify his growing desire. You writhed under his hands as they smoothed from your back to your hips, over your ass and then down to your thighs.

You allowed your own hand to go lax on his torso, slowly bringing it further South. The place you’d searched for a bulge before rewarded you with one now. You could feel the semi-hard outline under your fingers.

He hissed at the lazy rubs you gave it through his pants. “Always so eager for more,” he mumbled.

While he was still very much wrapped up in the feeling of you, going further tempted him just as much. He dropped one of his hands to the elastic waistband of your shorts and shoved it underneath. His fingers ducked below your panties next with the same precision. The middle one slotted between your puffy lips, seeking out your clit.

Already, you’d started to get a little wet. Dick dragged the pad of his digit through the collecting slick, relishing the clicking sound that came with it. His finger then ventured back to your little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few rubs to which your hips jerked and a whine spilled out of you.

Then the bathroom door opened. Neither one of you had even heard the shower turn off while distracted with each other. Steam poured out into the bedroom. Along with it came Jason. He stepped out, baby pink towel low around his hips, stray beads of water trickling over his scars down to his v-line. His eyes immediately landed on the two of you.

“See? So needy before, but I knew you’d have fun with Dick just fine,” Jason said. He shook his hair like a wet dog before advancing further into your room.

“Shut up. You took too long,” you whimpered, rolling your hips into Dick’s hand.

“You think so? You should’ve said something. I could hear you complaining through the door, but I don’t think it got the point across all the way,” he mocked.

He headed over to the door leading back out into the hall, and suddenly, all traces of your attitude vanished. “Wha- Where are you going?” you asked, turning your head to give him puppy eyes. Dick took advantage of the new angle and attacked your neck with his mouth again.

“Where do you think?” he asked.

Of course, you knew where he was headed - down the walkway and into the guest room with his duffel bag. Most of Dick’s stuff had migrated to your bedroom, but Jason still kept his separate. It really didn’t matter to you though; here or there, you did not want him getting dressed either way.

“Nooooo,” you whined, reaching out towards him with one grabby hand. “Don’t put clothes on.”

He almost laughed at your little display. A smile settled on his lips, and he took a few steps back in the direction of the bed. His pupils scanned over your body again, taking in the way your back arched and your heels slid against the blankets. He watched the outline of Dick’s hand pump beneath your shorts.

“I don’t know… I think Dick’s got you covered, sweetheart. Doesn’t look like you need anyone else,” he taunted, running a hand over your head.

“Need you,” you said, whimpering as Dick rubbed a little star onto your clit. “Need both of you.”

“Greedy,” Jason tutted. But he didn’t stop petting your head.

“Nuh uh,” you denied. Your gaze fell down his body, specifically to his waist where that towel remained tucked around him. It would be so easy to reach out and just…

“No?” he said and cupped your jaw, directing your eyes back to his own. “You don’t think you’re acting spoiled?”

You shook your head before looking down at his stomach again. This time you couldn’t help yourself. You extended your arm, hooking your index and middle finger over the fluffy edge of the towel. It barely took any force to tug it free.

The plush fabric vanished, pooling around his feet. Now, at your eye level, his cock hung, thick and heavy. Your pupils all but morphed into little hearts while staring at it.

He didn’t stop you from grabbing the shaft. Your fingers curled around his length and gave it a gentle tug, beckoning him closer to the mattress. For once, he went along with your desire free of protest. He boosted himself up a bit with one knee on the foamy surface. You continued stroking in time with Dick’s fingers caressing your pussy.

His cock rose to life between your digits. It grew stiffer with every twist of your hand or swipe of your thumb over the tip. You watched in amazement as you did every time, and he watched you. Something deep inside of him went wild for that innocuous fascination that would come over your face in moments like these. Jason was well aware that you weren’t a saint by any means, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to corrupt you.

On the other side of your body, Dick’s head popped up from the crook of your neck, looking up at him with lidded eyes. “Would there even be a point in putting your clothes on when she’s gonna pull ‘em off as soon as you get back?” he joked.

You didn’t even register the little joke or how Jason responded because you were so laser focused on giving him a hand job. Your own movements nearly hypnotized you. With every flick of your wrist, desire gnawed at you, begging you to get more. To take more.

“Can I suck on it?” you asked abruptly.

Jason’s hand paused on your head. He looked down at you again, taking in your dilated pupils and parted lips.

“You want me in your mouth?” he checked.

You nodded.

“Do you think you deserve me in your mouth?” he asked next.

Exasperated, you whined. “Jasonnnnnnn. Come on.” You stuck your lip out to add to your plea.

“Alright, hush,” he said, sweeping his hand around to cup your jaw. “No whining. If you want it so bad, then open up.”

The rough pad of his thumb pressed down on your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth into a cute little o. His cock throbbed as you looked up at him so sweetly. Your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, and your lids drooped slightly under the weight of your lust.

He shifted his hips forward to guide his length to your awaiting orifice. You tried to reciprocate, leaning towards him as much as you could while still Dick’s grasp.

“Ah ah, lay your head back and let me give it to you. You’ll crane your neck otherwise,” he grunted.

Shockingly enough, you obeyed without issue. You sunk back in Dick’s direction, allowing the pillow behind you to support your head. Jason continued on. His tip nudged the seam of your lips. Droplets of precum smeared on the plump skin.

It took no force to push into the wet warmth of your mouth. Your saliva coated his length, making the shaft shimmer as it slid in and out of your mouth. He could feel your tongue lazily flicking and laving against him. It was cute. Such small efforts as you laid there for him to use.

Dick continued rubbing your clit beneath your shorts, but as Jason found his rhythm with shallow thrusts, he maneuvered his fingers around to prod at your entrance instead. The slender digits applied some light pressure before slipping inside. A mewl erupted from you around Jason’s cock, but your body didn’t protest or try to shut him out. You remained lax with the sensations, allowing him to fuck two between your pulsing walls with ease.

He kissed underneath your earlobe. “Such a good girl, sweetheart. Just relax for me. We’ll keep you all filled up,” he whispered.

You whimpered at the electricity his hushed voice sent down your spine. It was all so overwhelming in the best way. You were full of them in every sense of the matter. Not only were they inside you, but they claimed each of your senses as well. Dick’s lilted voice crooned in your ear while Jason’s scent clouded your nose. You got the taste of him all over your tongue as every nerve ending on your body lit up for them.

All of it made your head spin. Your eyes drooped, and your jaw got a little lazy. Before you knew it, Jason was squeezing your cheeks to grab your attention.

“Keep it nice and wide for me, little brat. Don’t want your teeth scraping me up,” he teased.

“Sorry…” you tried to say, but with a mouthful of cock, it just came out garbled and incoherent.

However, the need to apologize fled your mind fast. The creeping sensation of release replaced it. It started to simmer as Dick curled his fingers within you, finding that sweet spot you never reached on your own.

Your hips started to quake. You rocked up and down in a desperate search for release. They both chuckled as they saw it, knowing all your signs by now.

“Are you almost there, pretty girl?” Dick cooed.

“Mhm,” you whined around Jason.

“Yeah? You wanna cum?” he goaded, coaxing you further along.

“Mhm,” you said again; this time louder, more desperate.

His fingers kept thrusting into you. Wet squelches echoed from between your thighs as your peak got closer and closer. You could see it just in front of you, within reach, the sweet, shimmery heat already lapping at you. But just as your body got ready for the final ascent, Dick pulled his digits out.

You bursted with displeased whines and agitated whimpers. In a second, you backed off Jason’s cock so you could grab at Dick’s arm.

“Whyyyy?” you pouted, trying to glare at him. Though, with your eyes all glazed from pleasure, it didn’t come off as any kind of intimidating.

“What?” he laughed, bringing his fingers to his mouth. He slid them inside and sucked them clean while maintaining eye contact with you all the while. “You know you’re still gonna get to cum. You just make it too fun to tease you,” he said once he’d pulled them back out.

The explanation did little to quell your discontent, but before you could voice any of it, a hand wrapped around your ankle and tugged you downwards on the mattress. 

Jason had walked around towards the foot of the bed in the midst of your distraction. He crawled over your legs towards the rest of your body, caressing up your calves as he went. His thumb hooked under the hem of your shirt to boost it up. As he moved, his head ducked down to lay some kisses along your belly.

“Have we left you unsatisfied so far, sweetheart?” he asked, gazing up at you through his lashes.

It was a leading question. Of course, the answer that came from your lips was a soft “no.”

“Exactly. So quit whining. You know Dick and I are gonna take care of you.”

His fingers looped over the waistband of your bottoms next. He yanked them off your legs. Tossing them to the side without a second thought. You watched his movements carefully, having a pretty good idea where he was headed. It just wasn’t something you were used to quite yet.

“Lemme return the favor for you, princess. While I’m doing that, you can do the same for Dick.”

“For what? Not letting me finish?” you huffed.

The fingers belonging to the man in questions landed on your forehead and nudged you back, putting your skull flat on the mattress. He smiled down at you stroking your cheek. 

“No one can ever say you don’t know how to hold a grudge,” he teased.

A little scowl curled on your lips. At the same time, Jason got in position between your legs. You felt his hand cup one of your thighs then the other, placing each on either one of his shoulders.

There was really no time to brace yourself before he dove in. In seconds, that petty expression was gone, wiped clean by parted lips and furrowed brows. Your back curled inward, your body coiling in response to the sudden burst of stimulation down there. Dick watched. It was obvious from the look in his pretty blue eyes that he greatly enjoyed seeing the moment the pleasure took you.

“No, she wants people to think she can hold a grudge, but she’s not as tough as she lets on,” Jason taunted, sounding almost affectionate.

That was the last you heard out of him. Before you had the chance to go back and forth, his lips were on your pussy again. He flicked his tongue over your clit, back and forth, back and forth in quick succession. Your hips bucked while your legs flailed fruitlessly, but Jason was more than strong enough to keep you in place.

A broken whine trickled from your lips. Your heels dug into the firm muscles that spanned over his back. You figured he liked it. The harder you pressed, the more fervor he seemed to have with his mouth.

Beside you, Dick shimmied down his pants and pulled them free. His cock was hard, more than ready for some attention. He gave it a few tugs. Just simple jerks of his hand to the sight of you unraveling under Jason’s skillful ministrations.

As you squirmed, your head tilted in his direction. Your eyes fell on the veiny shaft before you. You remembered what Jason had said. To take care of Dick while he took care of you.

“You ready for me, baby?” he checked, voice hushed as he pet his free hand over your head.

You nodded and opened your mouth into the same shape you had before. He did the work for you just like Jason did. Angling his hips, he tapped his tip against the corner of your mouth before pushing it in. Like usual, he was more gentle than Jason. Despite it being the same action, he handled you with more care.

He got just as much pleasure though. A hearty groan came out of him as you started to suckle on the tip. Your eyes fluttered shut. Having something in your mouth gave your attention somewhere else to go. It acted as a distraction from the bursting bliss between your thighs.

You couldn’t see it, but Jason’s eyes flitted up to your face. He watched you take Dick’s cock while his tongue drew mini figure-eights from the bottom of your slit to your cute little bundle of nerves above. Something close to obsession danced at the center of his green irises. When you weren’t looking, he didn’t bother trying to hide it.

Little whimpers still squeaked from your mouth around Dick, but Jason wanted more. Tiny sounds he had to strain his ears to hear weren’t enough. He stopped licking at you, stopped grazing his tongue across your clit. Instead, he maneuvered the wet muscle lower. He prodded it at your opening and sunk it into you. That got a nice, low moan out of you.

He fucked his tongue in and out, pressing it against your silken walls as you pressed your own against the tender ridge of Dick’s cock. He was hissing too then. The three of you created a chorus of ecstasy, a neverending feedback loop of hissing and squirming.

Jason ground his hips against the mattress as you rolled yours towards his face. He was still holding you down, but your movements got him off. Seeing how desperate you could get, how eager you were to writhe into the pleasure, it had him leaking sticky white pre onto your pretty, pristine sheets.

You could feel that burning hot peak building up inside you again. Your toes curled, and your back started to arch. You knew Dick was getting close too from the way he was panting. That and how his hips were starting to jolt forward a little more frequently.

Jason pulled his tongue out of your slick hole and put his mouth on your clit again. He wrapped his lips around the tiny bud, giving it a harsh suck. You yelped around Dick’s cock. Your whole body jerked, and your head snapped back, his saliva-coated length falling from your mouth.

“J-Jay,” you whimpered. Your hand flew down to grab at his damp hair.

He didn’t answer with words, but the feeling of your digits against his scalp got a groan out of him. His tongue continued to dance over your soaked folds. With everything he had, he worked to bring you to the edge. His fingers dug into the plush of your thighs hard, almost bracing himself as he humped the blanket under him.

Gentle as ever, Dick guided your head back in his direction so he could slip his cock between your lips again. You accepted it happily, sucking it like you had been before being interrupted. Your lips rested right against the ridge. Every little vibration from your squeaks of pleasure reverberated through him.

Those small buzzes were enough to get him to the finish. Dick came first. He sighed and tilted his head back. His hand pressed on your head, keeping you close as his shaft twitched against your tongue. Warm spurts of cum bursted into your mouth, and you had no problem swallowing all that he gave.

In the midst of Dick’s release, you hit your high as well. Just as his was coming to end, you felt something snap inside of you. A loud whine bubbled up inside your chest and left your mouth as you slowly eased off. Waves of bliss coursed through you, your body rolling in trembling waves.

Your thighs squeezed around Jason’s head, and that was when he lost it. 

He continued to devour you through it, not pulling away as euphoria surged through him. You cried out when overstimulation began to set in. Your hands weakly pushed at his head.

In a rare reversal, he listened to you. He pulled back from the junction of your thighs, departing with one final kiss to your clit. His jaw shimmered with remnants of your arousal.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes raked over him. Your small pupils drank in every detail. His tousled hair, his lidded eyes, his puffing chest, his softening cock between those thick thighs… But as your vision drifted down, your gaze landed on the mess he’d left on the plush fabric of one of your blankets.

Sitting up quickly, you grabbed it as if to inspect the sticky patch. “Jason,” you whined, accompanied by a glare.

He snatched it back. “Zip it,” he hushed as he climbed off the bed. “I’ll put it in the wash. It’ll be fine. And if not, I’m sure you can afford a new one.”

You narrowed your eyes at the tight-lipped, mocking smile he gave you. “I can, but I don’t want to. That one’s like the best.”

“Then I guess you’d just have to find better than the best,” he replied before stepping out of your bedroom.

A pouty huff came from your lips, but your eyes lingered on the door. You weren’t actually mad, of course. The wash would get the mess out, and even if it didn’t, what he said was true. You were more concerned with trying to figure out whether or not he was coming back.

On your other side, the mattress lifted with the absence of Dick’s weight. He rose from the bed and stretched his limbs out. Your head snapped in his direction, your hand reaching for his wrist.

“Where are you going?” you asked with a little pout.

He eyed you curiously. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to take a leak - if that’s alright with you.”

Your grip on him loosened as you realized you should probably reign these feelings back in. “I just was wondering like if you were coming back, or if you wanted to do something else.”

“Like?” he asked.

“I just didn’t… want you to feel pressured to like stay in here or anything. I know we all mess around and stuff, but you guys can still sleep in your own rooms if you ever want to,” you said.

His eyes narrowed. He leaned in a little, cupping your chin to direct your eye line. “Would you want us to sleep in the other rooms? Are you getting sick of sharing your bed?”

“No…”

“Do you think I want to sleep in the other room?” he asked.

That prompted a longer pause than the other two questions, but after a few seconds, you shook your head.

“Ok then. No need to worry about it. No one’s annoyed with you. If Jason or I wanted to sleep in the other rooms, we’d tell you that,” he said, leaning down to peck your lips.

With that, he walked off to the bathroom and nudged the door shut behind him. In their collective absence, you dragged yourself out of bed. You took the brief period of free time to put yourself back together and get the bed in order again.

Just as you finished putting your pillow into place, Jason strolled into the room. Without a care for all the organization you’d just done, he came over and flopped down onto your mattress. The blankets wrinkled to his shape, and the pillow you just placed toppled over. You pursed your lips in response before hopping up too and lightly slapping his bicep.

“That’s two times you’ve messed up my bed tonight,” you huffed.

His lips spread into a grin. In a flash, his arms looped around your waist as he playfully wrestled you down onto the mattress. You squirmed around, acting as if you were putting up a fight, but only a matter of seconds had gone by before he had you pinned.

Looking up at him now, you almost forgot the man you met on that first day. His green eyes appeared so much softer. His features seemed way more relaxed. He looked as unbothered as Dick sounded. Maybe you didn’t need to worry.

“We could mess it up again, you know. Maybe before Dick even comes back. I can be fast,” he teased, pecking your cheeks.

“Not fast enough,” Dick’s smooth voice cut in from behind.

That made you smile a little bit. The bathroom door clicked shut again, following it came the soft padding of his feet across the carpet. You brushed your fingertips across Jason’s cheekbone before nudging him off you.

He rolled to one side of your bed while Dick settled on the other. This was how it went most nights. You squished in the middle of their two muscular bodies.

Shifting around a bit, you grabbed the remote. Your head leaned onto Dick’s bicep while your leg overlapped with Jason’s. You could already feel sleepiness creeping up on you, but there was one more thing to decide before letting yourself drift off. Really the only thing that still caused arguments as of late.

“So… Do you guys wanna watch something?”

A few hours later, the tv was still on, broadcasting flickering patterns of light across your bedroom walls. The volume stayed low, the words of the characters on screen inaudible. Not that it mattered. You, Jason, and Dick were all fast asleep by now.

Each of you laid in the positions that had become normal to you now. Dick slept supine with one arm up, you curled into his chest, and Jason latched onto your smaller frame from behind. 

The first time this happened it was almost overwhelming to you. You’d spent the vast majority of your nights up until this point alone. The one boyfriend you had in adolescence had never been allowed to sleepover, and the few flings here and there didn’t bother to really spend the night. You were used to the spacious loneliness that came with the mattresses thrice your size.

But since Dick and Jason had taken up residence with you and divided your king sized bed into three sectors, you didn’t think you could ever go back. Without Dick’s strong heartbeat thumping below your ear, something would feel missing. The absence of soft puffs of Jason’s breath against the back of your neck would leave you cold. In only a handful of nights, you’d become acclimated to sleeping with tangled limbs and limited moving room.

Besides the barely audible chatter of the television, your bedroom was always silent at night. The penthouse was so high up, the sounds of the city below never disturbed your slumber. Cars honking, people shouting, trucks huffing. It was all so distant and muted. None of it could penetrate the peaceful haze of your dreams.

Tonight something else was responsible for that. Not just sounds, but something physical that roused you from the depths of unconsciousness.

It started as simple rustling. Just the sheets shifting against each other, the blanket being pulled from beneath one person’s weight to wrap around another’s. And then grunting followed it. It was quiet and uneven, accompanied by heavy breaths.

You didn’t wake from just that though. Only when you heard mumbling and felt more forceful movements did your eyes flutter open.

Jason’s nose wasn’t nestled against the base of your neck. That was the first thing you realized. 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes while sitting up. Your movements came slow at first, bogged down by your body’s desire to go back to sleep. It took a few seconds to register what was happening. The glow of the tv disoriented you as your mind tried to fit everything into place.

But you soon realized the mumbling and squirming was coming from Jason.

Glancing over at him, you saw him curled up facing the opposite of you. The muscles in his back looked tense, as if bracing for some kind of impact. His legs kicked at the covers, not with their full force since he couldn’t give all his effort but still pretty hard.

You furrowed your brows as you observed for a few seconds. At first, you didn’t understand what you were looking at. But then you heard him more clearly. You could make out words like “no” and “stop” and “get off.” He made a noise that almost sounded like crying, and that was when it clicked.

He was having a nightmare.

Instantly, you scooted closer, kneeling behind his back. You brought a gentle hand down on his bicep and tried waking him with a combination of soothing strokes and weak shakes.

“Jason?” you whispered. You didn’t want him to get pissy about being woken up, but you also didn’t like watching him upset by his dreams.

He didn’t wake up from your cautious touches or quiet call, so you tried a little harder. You shook him with some actual dedication and leaned in closer.

“Jason. You’re dreaming. Wake up,” you said. Your voice remained caring and tender, but you said the words clearly. His eyes stayed shut though so you went for one more attempt. “Come onnnn. Wake up. Don’t make me get some water-”

The pitchy whine snapped his eyes open; only he didn’t awaken with the relieved gasp or tiny jolt you were expecting. Instead, he snapped at you like you’d nudged him with the barrel of a gun rather than your fingers. He flipped around and lunged. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, the other slammed your shoulder down to the mattress.

You squeaked at the blur of motion. Of course, you knew Jason was strong. It was obvious from the way he worked out and the muscles padding his body. You’d just never really felt how strong he was first hand.

This was a different kind of strength from when he fucked you. His fingers didn’t dig in just enough to mark, their pressure against your skin acted as an unspoken threat. He slammed you down with way more force than when he was just manhandling you. In a position like this, you realized how powerless you really were against him, how easy it would be for him to snap your bones or severely maim you if he felt so inclined.

You stared up at him with widened eyes. Your body trembled with a mixture of fear and confusion. Earlier, when he was on top of you, looking all soft and sweet, it seemed hard to compare him to the facade he wore around strangers. But right now, he had morphed into another creature entirely. That quick temper you saw from day one became so much more severe under pressure. It sharpened into something looking to puncture. You didn’t even want to speak his name to try and calm whatever sort of reaction you’d triggered in case the mere sound of your voice would set him off further.

Luckily for you, being throttled onto the bed had been enough to wake Dick too. He came to his senses faster than you had. The second he saw your predicament, he was up. He grabbed Jason’s shoulder and tugged him back without fear. Maybe he’d done this before.

You sat up, rubbing your throat as you scooted back to lean against the headboard. There was no internal damage that you could feel since he hadn’t actually choked you, but the sting of forming bruises along the base of your throat lingered.

“Hey, hey, hey. You were dreaming, man. No one’s here. You’re alright. She’s fine,” Dick murmured to Jason at the end of the bed.

He definitely had done this before. You could tell. The way he positioned his hands on his shoulders and made him look in his eyes. The tone he spoke with, intentionally grounding and firm without being harsh or scolding. It was practiced, tried and true. You wondered for how long had Jason needed this kind of help. For how long had he struggled with whatever caused him to lash out.

It only took a couple moments for Jason to come back down to reality with the both of you. You could nearly see his features relax back into the shape you’d grown accustomed to. His eyes softened, and although his chest still heaved with rough panting breaths, his posture relaxed. He rubbed a hand over his face before his gaze shifted to you.

For a second, he appeared almost sheepish. Though a stoic mask quickly came up to conceal that.

“Are you alright?” he rasped. “I didn’t…”

“I’m fine,” you reassured quickly. “You just startled me a little, but I’m not hurt or anything.”

He nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “That’s… um that’s good,” he said. But he still wasn’t settled. Instead of returning to his previous place next to you, he made his way off the bed. “I’m sorry. I- It- I’m just gonna take a minute,” he mumbled.

“Jason, wait. You don’t have to-” you started, but he was already out the door without looking back.

Your head turned to Dick who was coming to sit next to you again. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to scare him like that. I just touched his arm and-” you tried to explain.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t your fault. You’re ok,” he said. His hands gently maneuvered your jaw around to get a look at the markings on your throat.

“Is he?” you asked. “He seemed really upset. I don’t want him thinking I’m mad or something…”

“He doesn’t think you’re mad. Promise,” Dick said softly. Once he was satisfied with his inspection of your neck, he leaned back against the headboard next to you.

You wrapped your arm around Dick’s, leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you sat in the silence of the bedroom for a couple seconds. You hesitated before speaking again.

“Why did he get so freaked out?” you asked, voice quieter than before. You knew there was a risk you were prying into something that was none of your business, but didn’t you have a right to know after getting choked-slammed as a result of it?

“Jason… He…” Dick started, clearly contemplating whether he should share or not as well. “A few years ago, he was on a case. One of the last ones at our old firm. He was serving a protection order for this girl. And anyways, the details aren’t too important, but it didn’t go well. He got hurt. The client… she didn’t make it out.”

Your eyes widened. Suddenly, guilt for all the shit you’d given Jason upon meeting him hit you like a truck.

“I… Is that what he dreams about?” you asked.

Dick shrugged. “He’s never told me exactly. I’ve only seen him like that a few times before this, on different cases, but I didn’t think he’d had one in a long time,” he said.

“Does he blame himself for what happened?” you said.

“Of course,” he said, smiling a little despite the words. “Any time something goes wrong on a case, you blame yourself. But there was no way he could have done anything different. We had a leak within the agency that sold out their location. No one knew until it was too late.”

You frowned. This story didn’t get any better the more you learned. You tried to piece this information together with your already existing perception of Jason. Part of you just wanted to imagine what he would have been like before any of that. He probably would have been around your age. Maybe he’d be carefree like you or have a sense of humor closer to Dick’s. It didn’t really matter though. Contextualizing what was real was more important than imagining a life that would never exist.

“Should we…?” you said, tilting your head towards the door.

“No. He likes to be alone afterwards,” he answered.

Your frown worsened. Likes didn’t seem like the correct word here. You doubted he liked any of this. He was probably in his room or downstairs, moping around, feeling ashamed and isolated, wanting company and not knowing how to ask for it.

But Dick was already laying down again, so you followed in suit.

“Just give him till morning. He’ll be ok,” he told you, kissing your forehead before relaxing into the mattress again.

You did not plan on giving Jason till morning.

After lying there for a couple minutes, worry for him still nagged at you. There was no way you were gonna fall asleep like this, thinking of a new scenario every few seconds, all of which involved him lonely and in anguish.

You just waited until Dick fell asleep before creeping out of bed and slipping into the hall. Quiet as could be, you padded down the lofted walkway. You peeked into his room on the way, finding it empty and untouched except for his open duffel bag. He must have been downstairs then.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you found the living room and kitchen empty too. A few more paces in, however, you spotted his figure out on the balcony. He leaned against the railing towards the corner, head hanging forward. His dark hair blew to the side in the breeze outside.

Even though you knew it’d be cold, you opened the door and stepped out. A little shiver overcame you as the chilled air hit your skin. He didn’t look. Either he didn’t hear the door, or he was hoping you’d cut your losses now and go back inside.

But of course, you didn’t.

“How do you not get dizzy doing that?” you called softly as you approached him.

He glanced over in your direction. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of heights too, little brat?” he asked. Despite the nickname, his voice came out almost hollow. As if someone had carved out his usual mirth.

“Well kinda… I don’t come out here too much,” you admitted with a shrug.

In contrast to your slight aversion, you took up the place next to him, placing your forearms on the frosty steel rail.

“Why do you live in a penthouse if you don’t like heights?” he said.

“I didn’t really choose the floor,” you started. You intended to say more, but a low hum from him cut you off.

“That’s right. How could I have thought otherwise?”

He said it in the way he talked to you before, when you were just a client. When you were just a pest. It hurt a bit, you couldn’t lie. But you didn’t let it push you away. You knew he wouldn’t be in a good mood before you came down here. The time alone probably only hardened his feelings and aimed them more at himself.

“Are you ok, Jason?” you asked, soft and quiet. You reached to touch his arm; however, he put a stop to that by inching away.

“Don’t,” was all he said.

“I just-” you tried.

“I know. You just want to help. But I’m telling you don’t. I don’t need it,” he maintained.

Maybe you should have stopped there. It might have been better to just stand there with him, offer comfort by not letting him be alone even if it had to be through silence. But to be honest… the short tone and the way he interrupted your point pissed you off. You took a deep breath and gripped the railing a little tighter.

“You look like you do,” you said, trying to remain non-confrontational. “You’re out here all alone while it’s freezing.”

“Like I said, I don’t. I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

“But you don’t have to! You can tell me stuff, you know. Like real stuff. I know I’m not like your best friend or anything, but I wanna actually know you. I can listen and maybe help if you let me,” you said, starting the same spiel you gave to Dick earlier.

Only Jason didn’t want it.

“I don’t want help from you.”

Your cheeks burned at the targeted nature of the statement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want help, apparently. No. Just that he didn’t want it to be yours.

“You know you have your right to privacy, and if you really don’t wanna tell me how you feel, fine. But don’t act like I’m a goddamn stranger,” you said.

“Oh, that’s a bad word. You sure daddy lets you say that one?” he retorted.

And that stung. He’d made cracks like that before, of course, on the day you met and those that came after. Right up until that morning where you’d given him all of yourself. That was why it hurt so much when he said it now. It was why your throat tightened a little and your eyes started to sting. You thought that things were different. That he at least understood you even if he didn’t respect you.

“Why are you being such a jerk? I was just trying to help you. Just because you’re too scared to let me in, you don’t have to be rude,” you defended.

He let out a bitter laugh at that. “Oh scared? Is that what I am? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he taunted. “Because then you’d get to be the one to fix me, and you could finally prove to me that you’re capable. You could get my approval for doing something worthwhile because you know it’ll never come from your daddy.”

The breath vanished from your lungs. You had to actively try not to cry now. Crying would only make you look more pathetic in front of him, and while he may be winning the argument, you’d be damned if you proved him right in any way.

“You barely even know me! How-” you forced out, trying to hide the way your voice cracked.

“If I barely even know you then why the fuck would I wanna talk about this stuff with you?” he said.

Your argument shriveled up on your tongue because, technically, he had a point.

“I was just offering because I thought…” you trailed off. A combination of losing and not wanting to share held you back now.

“I’m not telling you anything because I know you,” he continued. “I know you wouldn’t understand, and you never will. You’ll never know what real pain is. You’ll never have to deal with actual guilt. And I know for a fucking fact shame isn’t a thing in your life.”

You stood there, taking it all. This was the first time he was actually mean to you. Everything in the beginning had been a simmer, but now his temper was heating up. You didn’t even know what to do when he was done. You didn’t want to cower and run off with your tail between your legs, but you also didn’t want to agitate him more.

“Ok, Jason, I get it,” you said. Now yours was the voice that had been hollowed out. This was probably his first time hearing you speak without some form of whining or teasing.

He looked away, and you could tell he realized that he went a little too far. He wanted you to leave him alone but not permanently. But what was said was said. There was no way to unhear his words.

“Look…” he started, but you honestly couldn’t take any half-assed apologies right now.

“It’s fine. Just forget it,” you said, barely more than a whisper, before walking back inside.

The air in the living room was objectively warmer, but the emptiness of the place made it seem chilled. You skulked back upstairs and into your room, slipping into bed with Dick again as if you never left. Your head landed on his chest and your palm rested on the center of his abdomen. You shut your eyes in an attempt to let the sound of his beating heart drown out Jason’s words that were still bouncing around in your skull.

It didn’t really work, but one positive came along with the sadness. It suppressed your anxiety. The pain left you wanting to avoid Jason, so you weren’t at all concerned about whether he was coming back to your bed or not.

You accepted the fact that he’d probably be back in the guest room for good.

[timmydraker]

Tim vapes.

To his friends, namely the ones at school and not so much in Young Justice, this ain’t anything surprising. It’s popular for his age group and given how he has various roles in life that cause anxiety and his poorly concealed PTSD from being Red Robin, it makes sense he’d turn to something for comfort.

That comfort just happens to be an addiction to the ‘cancer usb’s his brother Dick once went on a two hour rant about.

Jason once got grounded and forced to watch a PowerPoint video made by Dick and Bruce after he was caught with a cigarette while still Robin. Jason still kept up the bad habits, but he normally turned to a drink or smoke when things were really bad. It was both recreational and a treat that he only had a few times a year, or month in the case of alcohol.

Tim doesn’t take breaks unless he’s on patrol.

It started when he was thirteen and was so tired from starting work with Wayne Enterprise and Robin that he didn’t give his usual response to his friends offer of a hit.

The passion fruit guava flavour settled easily in his chest, most likely due to how he had a lot of self control with his body. He coughed a storm afterwards but quickly found himself coming back for a hit or two during school breaks.

It only took a month for him to buy his first one after some research. He bought the least damaging one for his body even if he knew that lessening such damage didn’t fully remove it.

He started with grape.

Then once that died, he bought sour apple.

Then fairyfloss.

Then strawberry mango.

Then birthday cake, which he genuinely didn’t think could be real but alas.

It took almost four years for anyone in his family to notice and by pure luck it was his actual father who would end up dying a few months later. Tim remembers how guilty he felt when he realised his father would no longer be yelling at him for his ‘fruity fucking stink’ and that such a thing gave him genuine relief. He shouldn’t want his dad to be dead, yet…

It was then Tim realised that maybe he should try slow down his usage, and challenged himself to go a whole hour before a hit, then two and then finally three before he decided that would be enough for a while.

It’s on a particularly bad patrol when he saw a kid get hurt and wasn’t in time to save her from some likely permanent damage that he forwent his rule of vaping in the suit and took several hits while against a wall in his Red Robin attire.

He was just stating to feel the calm fully settle in his bones as his last puff of sour rainbow exited his lunged when he heard a voice just a few feet away.

“How dare you disgrace the name of Robin with that filth!”

Tim jumps up immediately but no training would prepare him for how quickly Damian comes over and snatches the vape from his hand.

Damian is gone quicker than he can get himself together and he only just managed to shout and run after him with his growing panic.

Tim watches his youngest brother vanish from sight and knows he’s doomed.

When he gets back to the cave a few hours later after trying to hide away from his problems, he’s finished his second vape (star fruit grape) from pure stress.

He’s met with the entire family sans Jason giving him the most disappointed and concerned look he’s seen since he confessed he lost his spleen and didn’t tell anyone.

Damian won’t meet his eye but even then Tim can tell from years of studying his younger that even Damian feels a little guilty for outing him, but as Dick looks close to tears with how upset he is the others resolve clearly strengthens.

Tim doesn’t blame him, even if he’s mentally going over all the symptoms of nicotine withdrawal.

[thighsa]

DANGEROUSLY

Artist :

BABYMONSTER Ahyeon X Male Reader

Tags :

Father's Debt, Mention Of Death, Gambling, Underage Ahyeon, Sexual Harassment, Forced Sex, Rough Sex, Rape, BDSM, Bondage, Virgin, Anal, Anal Virginity, Gangbang, Double Penetration, Creampie, Gape, Sex Tape, Blackmail, Drug Usages, Slut, Cam Girl, Sex Slave, Humiliation,

Warning : Non Con Smut (please don't read if you don't like it, thanks!)

CHAPTER 1 : THE GAMBLER'S WHORE

The early morning sun peeks through the cracked blinds, casting a warm glow over the room you share with him. Ahyeon stretch and yawn, feeling the weight of another day about to begin. "Ahyeon, it's time for school," her father's weary voice calls out from the kitchen, where the faint smell of frying eggs wafts through the air. Ahyeon pull on her worn-out school uniform and tie her hair into a simple ponytail before heading out to the kitchen. Mr. Jung, with eyes that carry the weight of the world, smiles gently at her as he slides a plate with her breakfast across the table. "Eat up, you've got a long day ahead," he says, patting her hand. Ahyeon look around at the peeling paint on the walls and the old family photos that hang crookedly, each one a reminder of the mother she lost too soon. Despite the meager surroundings, the love between Ahyeon and her father fills the space. As she sit down to eat, she can't shake the feeling that today will be different, but Ahyeon have no idea just how much her life is about to change.

The smell of burnt toast fills the kitchen as Mr. Jung accidentally leaves a piece in the toaster too long, his mind preoccupied with the crushing debt that hangs over his family like a dark cloud. His gambling addiction has spiraled out of control, and Mr. Son, the cold-hearted landlord, is not known for his patience or compassion. The debt has mounted to a point where it seems insurmountable, and the looming threat of eviction has become a constant in your lives. As Ahyeon scarf down her breakfast, her father's eyes dart nervously around the room, and Ahyeon knows that today is the day the debt must be addressed.

Mr. Jung, musters a smile for her, trying to hide the depth of his anxiety. He nods and says, "Remember to be safe at school, Ahyeon. I'll handle things here." She give him a hug before grabbing her backpack and heading out the door, feeling the weight of his worries press into her shoulders. The short walk to school is a blur of familiar sights, but the looming specter of her family's debt and Mr. Son's inevitable visit today casts a shadow over everything.

As she navigate the crowded school hallways, a group of her girl classmates, notorious for their cruel streak, spot her and start whispering to each other. They've noticed the sadness in Ahyeon's eyes, the weariness in her steps, and they see an opportunity to pounce. The leader of the pack, a mean-spirited girl named Soo-min, saunters over to Ahyeon with a smug grin. She grabs Ahyeon's arm and spins her around, pushing her into the nearby bathroom. The other girls follow, blocking the exit and snickering.

"Look at you, Ahyeon," Soo-min sneers, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Your dad's such a pathetic gambler. How does it feel to be the charity case of the school?" Her friends laugh cruelly, echoing her sentiments. Ahyeon try to pull away, but Soo-min's grip is surprisingly strong. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone," she says, pulling out her phone, "unless you do something... entertaining for us."

Ahyeon's heart races as Soo-min's friends close in, their smirks turning into hungry grins. "What do you want?" she manage to ask, her voice trembling. Soo-min leans in, her hot breath reeking of spite. "We want to see the real you, your trueself." she whispers. "Strip."

Ahyeon's fear and anger boil over into a fierce determination to resist, but Soo-min and her friends are too strong for her. They laugh as they tear her clothes off, revealing her trembling body. The cold tiles of the bathroom floor press against her bare skin, sending shivers down her spine. Soo-min holds her phone up high, the camera pointed directly at Ahyeon, while the other girls pin her arms and legs apart. They slap and poke her, laughing as she struggles and cries out, capturing every humiliating moment on video.

"Let me go!" Ahyeon screams, her voice echoing off the bathroom walls. Her eyes dart around, desperately searching for a way out, but she's surrounded. One of the girls yanks at her ponytail, forcing her head back and exposing her throat. Soo-min leans in close, her lips curling into a vicious smile. "You know, your mom's death was so tragic," she says, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Maybe it's time to join her, huh?"

Ahyeon's world spirals into a hellish nightmare as Soo-min uploads the degrading video of her online. Within minutes, the cruel footage goes viral, spreading through the school's social circles like wildfire. The video, titled "The Gambler's Whore," is shared across various platforms, and the comments section becomes a cesspool of lewdness and spite. Ahyeon's classmates watch the video with a mix of shock and morbid fascination, whispering about her fate as she walks the halls. Her reputation is shattered, her dignity left in tatters.

The bell for lunch rings out, and Ahyeon tries to slip away unnoticed, but the whispers and cruel laughter follow her like a dark cloud. Her face burns with humiliation as she overhears snippets of conversation about her video. She finds a quiet corner in the library, hiding among the dusty bookshelves, and sits down, hugging her knees to her chest. Tears stream down her cheeks, each one a silent scream for the pain she's enduring.

As the school day crawls to an end, Ahyeon's phone buzzes with a notification. It's a message from an unknown number, containing a link. Her heart sinks as she opens it, the video playing automatically. The screen fills with her own naked, tear-stained face and the cruel smiles of her tormentors. The comments are even worse than she imagined, and there's one that makes her blood run cold: "Looks like Mr. Jung's little slut is getting what she deserves. Tell your dad to pay up or we'll make sure he watches this with the whole neighborhood." It's signed with a simple username: "MrSon69."

Ahyeon's hand shakes as she locks her phone and tries to compose herself. The last thing she wants is for anyone else to see this, especially her father. She hastily gathers her things and bolts out of the school, desperate to escape the judging eyes and whispers. The streets are a blur as she runs home, fear and anger fighting for dominance in her chest.

Ahyeon walks into the house, trying to hide the storm of emotions raging within her. She pastes a shaky smile on her face as she calls out to her father, hoping to shield him from the horror of what she's just endured. Mr. Jung looks up from his newspaper, the same forced smile on his face that he's worn since your mother's passing. He notices something's off but says nothing, assuming it's just another bad day at school.

"How was school, Ahyeon?" he asks, his voice tinged with concern. She takes a deep breath, willing the tears to stay at bay, and reply, "It was okay, Dad." The lie tastes bitter on her tongue, but she knows the truth would only add to his burdens. He nods and turns back to the paper, lost in his own worries. Ahyeon can't bring herself to ask if he's talked to Mr. Son yet, so she head to her room to hide from the world.

CHAPTER 2 : THE PEDOPHILE

The next morning, Mr. Jung phone rings shrilly, echoing through the small, cluttered living room. Mr. Jung's eyes widen with fear as he recognizes Mr. Son's distinctive ringtone. He swallows hard, setting his paper aside and pick up the call. "Hello?" he answers hesitantly. The line is filled with the sound of heavy, malicious breathing. "Mr. Jung, it's been three months," Mr. Son's deep, menacing voice growls. "You're late again. I've been patient, but my patience has its limits." Ahyeon who eavesdrop her father's conversation, freezes in the hallway, her heart hammering in her chest. She can't make out the words, but the tone is unmistakable. She opens the door to her room just a crack, trying to listen without being heard.

"Mr. Jung, I heard you live with your daughter." Mr. Jung's hand tightens around the phone receiver, his knuckles turning white as Mr. Son's voice fills the room. "Ah, yes, Mr. Son, why?" he stammers, his mind racing as he tries to come up with a way to delay the inevitable. "My daughter, Ahyeon, she's a good girl. What does she have to do with this?"

"Let's settle this real quick, how about I go out with your daughter for a day?" Mr. Jung's voice is a trembling wreck as he tries to negotiate with Mr. Son over the phone. He can't bear the thought of his daughter being used as collateral for his debts, his love for Ahyeon overwhelming his fear of the cruel landlord. "Please, Mr. Son, she's 16, an underage." he begs, his voice strained, "I'll do anything. Just give me one more month. I'll pay you everything I have. I'll work overtime, I'll sell what little we have left, but please, not her." Mr. Son's chuckle is cold and calculated. "Your devotion is... touching, Mr. Jung," he sneers, "but it won't pay the rent. However, I am a reasonable man. If your daughter agrees to spend one day with me, I might consider extending your deadline. Besides, nothing going to happen, I will treat her like my little sister or even my daughter."

Ahyeon's blood runs cold as she hears the proposal, her fists clenching at her sides. She can't believe what she's hearing, but she knows all too well the desperation in her father's voice. She steps into the living room, her face a mask of defiance. "Dad," she says firmly, "I will do it." Mr. Jung's eyes widen with surprise and relief, his grip on the phone loosening slightly. "Ahyeon," he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You shouldn't have to do this. I'll figure something out." But Ahyeon's mind is made up. She can't let her father sell himself to this monster any longer. She marches over to the phone, her chin held high, and snatches the receiver from his hand. "Mr. Son, I'll do it," she says, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart. "I'll spend a day with you. Just give us more time." Ahyeon's heart is racing as the day she's agreed to spend with Mr. Son approaches. The house is tense with anticipation, and Mr. Jung is torn between his love for his daughter and his desperation to save their home.

In the weekend, Mr. Son arrives in a sleek black car, the engine purring like a predator's growl. He steps out, impeccably dressed, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he looks Ahyeon up and down. She's dressed in a simple but elegant pink off shoulder dress that hugs her curves, the one that her mother used to wear. "You look beautiful," Mr. Son leers, licking his lips as he extends a hand to help her into the car. "Let's go eat first, I know a good place." Ahyeon feels a shiver of revulsion but takes his hand, her father's pleading gaze from the doorway reminding her of the stakes. Mr. Jung stands there, his eyes red from crying and his face etched with a mix of fear and pride.

They arrived at a seafood restaurant and went into VVIP reserved room. Ahyeon becomes quiet as she doesn't know the restaurant's menu, as she and her father often eats at their home or food stalls. "Oh shit" Ahyeon grits her teeth as she feels the cold water seep through her pink dress, the fabric clinging to her body and outlining her curves in a way she never intended for Mr. Son to see. The chilly sensation against her skin sends goosebumps prickling along her arms and neck, and she can't help but shiver slightly. Mr. Son's eyes light up with a predatory glint, his gaze lingering on the wet fabric clinging to her chest. He tries to play it off as an accident, but the smug smile that tugs at the corners of his lips gives him away.

"Oh, I'm so clumsy," Mr. Son says with feigned apology, his eyes never leaving Ahyeon's body. "Let me help you clean up." He reaches over with a napkin, his hand brushing against her thigh in a way that's far from innocent. Ahyeon's stomach turns, but she forces a smile and gently takes the napkin from him, dabbing at the water. "Thank you Mr. Son, but I've got it," she replies, her voice tight with anger. The tension at the table is palpable as they continue with the charade of a meal. Mr. Son makes small talk, his voice thick with innuendo that Ahyeon tries her best to ignore. She keeps her eyes on her plate, focusing on the food to keep from crying. Each bite feels like a betrayal, each swallow a step closer to her fate.

As the meal progresses, Mr. Son becomes increasingly brazen, his hand sliding closer and closer to Ahyeon's. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, she looks up and says firmly, "Mr. Son, I'm here to fulfill my end of the deal, but please, no more of this, besides I'm an underage." His eyes narrow, the smile slipping from his face, revealing the monster beneath. "You think you can dictate terms to me, little girl?" Mr. Son's eyes flash with irritation, his hand still lingering on the arm of the chair next to Ahyeon. He takes a deep breath, his patience wearing thin. "Fine," he says through gritted teeth, "but don't think for a second that you're in any position to tell me what to do." He waves over a waiter, whispering something into his ear, and the man nods before disappearing into the back. Moments later, the door to the VIP room opens, and a burly bouncer steps inside, his gaze flicking from Mr. Son to Ahyeon and back again.

Ahyeon's heart sinks as she realizes the gravity of her situation. She's alone with a man who has no moral compass, and she's just reminded him of the power he holds over her and her father. The bouncer moves closer, blocking the only exit, and she swallows the bile rising in her throat. "Let's go," Mr. Son says, standing up and gesturing for Ahyeon to do the same. She finally breathes, while her legs still feeling like lead, but the threat of the bouncer looming over her is enough to spur her into action.

Once outside the restaurant, Mr. Son leads her to his car, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her with a firm grip. She tries to pull away, but he only tightens his grasp, his breath hot on her neck. "You know, I could have just taken what I wanted right here," he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. "But I'm a man of my word. One day, and then your father's debt is wiped clean." The car door opens, and he shoves her inside, sliding in next to her and slamming it shut with a finality that feels like a tomb sealing.

Mr. Son's patience snaps like a twig under the weight of his lust. He grabs Ahyeon's wrists, pushing her back against the cool leather seats of the car, his other hand reaching up to fondle her breast through the wet fabric of her dress. Ahyeon's screams are muffled by his hand clamped over her mouth, the stench of his breath invading her nostrils as she struggles against his iron grip. His eyes bore into hers, a twisted mix of excitement and anger as he takes in her fear and resistance.

"You little tease, looks like you got a pack hidden underneath this cloth" he snarls, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can play games with me?" He shoves her legs apart, his hand moving to her inner thigh, his intentions as clear as the sick grin on his face. Ahyeon's eyes widen in terror, her body trembling with the effort of fighting him off.

"Get off me, you disgusting pig!" she screams, her voice muffled by his hand. She kicks and wriggles, her heart racing as she searches for a way out. The car's windows are tinted, and the passing world outside seems oblivious to her plight. She's acutely aware that she's trapped, that nobody can hear her, and that she's utterly at his mercy.

Mr. Son laughs, his grip tightening as he enjoys the thrill of her resistance. "Feisty," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with excitement. "But it won't do you any good." His hand slides up her thigh, reaching under her dress. Ahyeon's mind races, trying to think of any way to escape, but her body is frozen with fear.

Mr. Son's hand slithers under Ahyeon's wet dress, his cold, clammy fingers digging into her thigh. He whispers, "I've seen your little performance online and I'm a fan of your thick and curvy teen body. You don't have anything to hide from me, do you?" His thumb brushes against her panties, and she feels a sickening jolt of fear as he starts to tug them aside. Ahyeon's eyes widen in horror as she realizes he's seen her most intimate moments, her dignity stolen and now wielded against her like a weapon. She bites down on his hand, tasting the metallic tang of his blood, and he snatches it away with a snarl. "You little bitch," he spits, his eyes flashing with rage. He slaps her hard across the face, the sound echoing in the enclosed space of the car. Ahyeon's head snaps to the side, stars dancing in her vision, and she feels the warm trickle of blood seep from the corner of her mouth.

Ahyeon's body is a whirlwind of panic and pain as she manages to slip out from under Mr. Son's grasp. She throws herself out of the car, the cool evening air hitting her bare skin like a slap. She runs as fast as she can, her heart hammering in her chest, the sound of Mr. Son's curses and the slamming of the car door fading into the distance. Her legs feel like jelly, and she's not sure if she can make it home, but she knows she has to get away from that monster.

As she rounds the corner, she spots the neon glow of the nearby bus stop. The sight of the bus approaching fills her with a desperate hope. She sprints toward it, her wet dress clinging to her like a second skin, and leaps onto the bus just as the doors close behind her. The bus driver glances at her in surprise but says nothing, and she collapses into a seat at the back, her chest heaving. The other passengers cast her sidelong glances, but she's too lost in her own thoughts to care about their judgment.

Her mind races with the events of the evening. The fear and disgust she felt in Mr. Son's embrace. The burning in her cheek from his slap. The way his eyes had lit up when he mentioned her video. And the cold, hard truth that her father had offered her up to this monster to save their home. She's torn between anger and despair, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

As the bus lumbers through the city streets, Ahyeon tries to gather her thoughts. She can't go back to school. She can't face her father. The only thing she can do is survive the night and figure out what to do next. The bus ride feels like an eternity, each jostle and stop a reminder of the world's cruel indifference. When she finally stumbles off at her stop, the quiet of the night is a stark contrast to the chaos in her mind. She walks the familiar path to her house, the streetlights casting long shadows that seem to dance in the puddles from an earlier rain.

Ahyeon stumbles through the front door of her house, her legs shaking and her body bruised from the struggle with Mr. Son. The darkness inside feels almost comforting after the harsh neon lights of the city, wrapping around her like a cold embrace. She heads straight for her bedroom, the one place she's always felt safe, and collapses onto her bed, the sobs tearing from her chest in racking waves. The fabric of her damp dress sticks to her skin, a constant reminder of the violation she's endured. She pulls the covers over her, trying to hide from the world, from her father, and from the memories that replay in her head like a twisted, unstoppable movie.

CHAPTER 3 : THE RAID

The next day, Mr. Son's black car is parked in front of their house, his menacing presence seeping through the windows. Ahyeon's father, Mr. Jung, opens the door with a mix of dread and hope, but the hope is quickly snuffed out by the furious look on Mr. Son's face. "The deal's off," Mr. Son barks, his eyes narrowing to slits as he glares at Mr. Jung. "Your little slut couldn't keep her end of the bargain."

Mr. Jung's face falls, his heart sinking into his stomach. "What happened?" he asks, his voice trembling. Ahyeon, still dressed in her dress and her face swollen from crying, steps out from the hallway, her eyes red and puffy. She's been up all night, her mind racing with the fear of what might happen next.

"You dare to ask me what happened?" Mr. Son sneers, pushing past Mr. Jung and into the house. "Look at her, she's useless. I gave you a chance to save your home, and you send me a whore that can't even keep still." He gestures to Ahyeon, who shrinks away from his hateful gaze. "Your debt is now doubled, and you have one week to pay it all. If not, I'll take this house and your little slut too."

Mr. Jung's face contorts with a mix of rage and desperation. "You can't do this," he pleads, his voice cracking. "I'll find a way, please."

Mr. Son's words hang in the air like a dark cloud as he storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him. The silence that follows is deafening, filled only with the sound of Ahyeon's quiet sobs and her father's heavy footsteps as he paces the floor, his fists clenched in impotent anger. The house feels smaller, the walls closing in around them, as the weight of their situation settles heavily on their shoulders.

Days turn into a blur as Mr. Jung's desperation grows. He starts spending his nights with a group of junkies, his once-proud posture now hunched and defeated. They introduce him to a harsh cocktail of drugs, a temporary escape from the crushing reality of his debts. His eyes become bloodshot, and his hands tremble as he tries to keep it together for Ahyeon's sake, but the drugs take their toll. He's lost weight, and his skin has taken on a sickly pallor.

Ahyeon watches in horror as her father, Mr. Jung, descends into the abyss of drug addiction. The smell of cheap alcohol and smoke permeates the house, and she often finds him passed out on the floor, surrounded by empty needles and pill bottles. His once-steady hands now tremble uncontrollably as he searches for his next fix, his eyes glazed over with the vacancy of a man lost to his vices. The jovial, hardworking father she once knew has been replaced by a shell, a man who whispers sweet promises of redemption to the darkness as he succumbs to his demons.

"Dad," Ahyeon whispers one night, kneeling beside him as he shakes through withdrawal, "please, you have to stop this. We'll find another way." Mr. Jung looks up at her, his eyes bloodshot and haunted. "There is no other way," he murmurs, his voice cracking with the strain of his addiction. "Mr. Son will take everything. I've lost everything already."

Ahyeon watches in despair as her father, Mr. Jung, continues to spiral further into his drug addiction, the precious money they had been saving for the house debt now funding his destructive habits. Each needle and pill that he consumes is another nail in the coffin of their future. The once-tidy living room has become a battleground of discarded wrappers, empty bottles, and the detritus of despair. The house, which once held the warmth of a loving family, is now a cold, unforgiving reminder of their plight. The smell of desperation and defeat hangs heavy in the air, a noxious cloud that seeps into every corner.

"Dad, we can't live like this," Ahyeon says, her voice cracking as she tries to get through to him. "Mr. Son is going to take our home. You have to stop this." But her words fall on deaf ears as Mr. Jung's eyes glaze over, his focus on the next high that will take him away from the pain of his failure. He reaches for a nearby bottle, his hand shaking as he brings it to his lips.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, she retreats to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She sits on the edge of her bed, the reality of their situation sinking in. The debt is now insurmountable, and Mr. Son's deadline looms like a specter, casting a shadow over their lives. Her father's addiction has become the final nail in their coffin, the debt collector's grinning skull.

CHAPTER 4 : THE TORMENT

Days pass like a nightmare for Ahyeon, her father's condition worsening with each tick of the clock. The house falls into disarray, the once-proud man now a mere shadow of his former self. Ahyeon is forced to fend for herself, cooking meager meals and avoiding the junkies that now frequent their home. She's lost in thought, her eyes staring into the void, when she hears the front door slam shut. A jolt of fear runs through her, but it's quickly replaced by anger as she recognizes Mr. Son's heavy footsteps in the hallway.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, she retreats to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She sits on the edge of her bed, the reality of their situation sinking in. The debt is now insurmountable, and Mr. Son's deadline looms like a specter, casting a shadow over their lives. Her father's addiction has become the final nail in their coffin, the debt collector's grinning skull.

Days pass like a nightmare for Ahyeon, her father's condition worsening with each tick of the clock. The house falls into disarray, the once-proud man now a mere shadow of his former self. Ahyeon is forced to fend for herself, cooking meager meals and avoiding the junkies that now frequent their home. She's lost in thought, her eyes staring into the void, when she hears the front door slam shut. A jolt of fear runs through her, but it's quickly replaced by anger as she recognizes Mr. Son's heavy footsteps in the hallway.

Mr. Son's voice cuts through the air, thick with malice as he makes his vile offer. "Ah, Mr. Jung," he says, his tone mocking. "You really are desperate, aren't you?" He pulls out a wad of cash, the crisp bills fluttering between his fingers like a cruel taunt. "This is the last time, you understand? I'll give you this money, but in return, I want Ahyeon."

Ahyeon's blood turns to ice at the sound of her name. She clutches her pillow to her chest, willing herself to disappear. The room seems to spin around her, the walls closing in.

"I...I can't," Mr. Jung stammers, his voice a mere whisper of the man he once was. But the siren's call of the drug is too strong. He looks at the cash, then back at the bedroom door, his expression a tragic mix of love and desperation. "Take me instead," he says, his voice shaking.

Mr. Son laughs, a cold, mirthless sound that sends a chill down Ahyeon's spine. "What good are you to me, old man?" he sneers. "I want your daughter. She's the one who's going to pay for your sins." The silence that follows is like a noose tightening around their necks. Ahyeon can almost hear her father's thoughts racing, his mind desperately trying to find another way out. But there is none.

Mr. Son's cruel laughter echoes through the house as he throws the wad of cash on the floor, watching with twisted amusement as Mr. Jung and his junkie friends scramble for it like animals fighting over a scrap of meat. Ahyeon's stomach turns at the sight of her father's desperation, his pride and dignity shattered by his addiction. The junkies, fueled by their own greed, ignore the distraught teenager, their eyes gleaming as they snatch up the bills.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching her room sends a bolt of terror through Ahyeon's body. She hears Mr. Son's voice, low and menacing, "Where's my little whore?" Her heart racing, she tries to hold her breath, willing herself to become invisible. But she knows it's only a matter of seconds before he finds her.

The door to her room crashes open, the wood splintering under the force of Mr. Son's rage. He stands in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room, his gaze finally settling on the trembling lump that is Ahyeon under the bed. "There you are," he sneers, his voice dripping with disgust. "Come out, little girl, and let's get this over with." Ahyeon's body moves on autopilot, her legs shaking as she emerges from her hiding place. She tries to wipe the tears from her face, but they just keep coming.

Ahyeon is dragged out of her hiding place by Mr. Son, her body trembling with fear. He throws her onto the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath her. She tries to scramble away, but his weight is too much, and he's on top of her in an instant. His hands are like claws, tearing at her dress, exposing her young flesh to the cold, unforgiving air. Ahyeon's screams pierce the air, raw and desperate, as she fights against the monster that looms over her. She feels his hands on her breasts, squeezing and mauling them, his hot breath on her neck as he whispers vile words into her ear. Her dress is torn to shreds, leaving her naked and vulnerable to his vile touch. His tongue traces a wet path along her collarbone, making her skin crawl. She can feel the heat of his arousal pressing against her thigh, and she knows what's coming next.

The junkies in the room leer at the sight, their eyes gleaming with a mix of hunger and perversion. They know better than to interfere with Mr. Son's business, even if it means watching a child get defiled in front of them. Mr. Jung is nowhere to be seen, lost in his own drug-induced haze, oblivious to the horror unfolding in his own home. The room feels like it's spinning, the faces of her father's friends blurring into a sea of apathy and greed. Ahyeon's cries for help are met with lewd cheers and catcalls, the sound of their laughter like nails on a chalkboard to her desperate ears.

Mr. Son's hands are everywhere, his fingers digging into her soft skin, leaving bruises that will bloom like dark flowers on her alabaster flesh. "You're going to be my little slut now," he hisses, his breath hot and rancid on her cheek. Ahyeon's nails scratch at his arms, drawing thin lines of blood, but he doesn't even flinch. His strength is terrifying, and she feels like a ragdoll in his grip. "You're going to do whatever I say, whenever I say it." His voice is a harsh whisper, a promise of endless torment.

Ahyeon's eyes dart around the room, searching for anything, anyone, that might save her. But the junkies just watch, their eyes glazed over, their bodies limp with their own addictions. One of them even reaches down to adjust himself, his depravity laid bare for all to see. The room feels like it's closing in, the air thick with the stench of sweat and desperation. She screams again, her voice hoarse from the abuse, but it's lost in the cacophony of Mr. Son's grunts and the junkies' sick laughter.

Suddenly, she feels a burst of anger and determination surge through her veins. This is not the end. This cannot be the end. With a strength born of sheer willpower, Ahyeon bucks her hips, throwing Mr. Son off balance. He snarls, his grip loosening for just a moment. It's all she needs. She wriggles free, her naked body sliding off the bed and onto the floor. She scrambles to her feet, her heart hammering in her chest like a wild animal's. "Get away from me!" she shrieks, her voice hoarse but filled with a fiery resolve.

Ahyeon's desperate struggle does not deter Mr. Son, whose lust has reached a fever pitch. He grabs her by the hair and yanks her back onto the bed, his teeth bared in a snarl. His hand clamps over her mouth, muffling her screams as he forces her legs apart. Ahyeon feels the cold, hard press of his erection against her thigh and tries to squirm away, but his weight is too much. With a sickening wet sound, he rips her panties to shreds and tosses them aside.

"You're going to pay for your father's mistakes," he grunts, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. Ahyeon's mind reels, trying to comprehend the horror of what's happening. Her eyes lock onto the leering faces of her father's friends, their expressions a twisted tableau of excitement and greed.

With a vicious thrust, Mr. Son enters her, the pain ripping through her like a hot knife through butter. Ahyeon's screams are muffled by his hand, her eyes watering with the agony of her lost innocence. His hips pound against her, his breath coming in ragged, animalistic gasps. She can feel him inside her, a foreign, violating presence that steals her very soul. The pain is unbearable, the humiliation complete.

The junkies around the room cheer him on, their eyes glinting with excitement as they watch the brutal act unfold. One of them reaches out, stroking her cheek with a trembling, filthy hand. "So pretty," he murmurs, his voice slurred by his high. Ahyeon's eyes widen with horror, her body stiffening with the realization that she's not just being raped by Mr. Son, but also being violated by the very people she's been trying to protect her father from.

Ahyeon's body is a battleground, her mind a tumult of pain and despair as Mr. Son's brutal rape continues. The junkie's hand on her face is like a brand, marking her as their property, as Mr. Son's grunts grow louder. And then, as if the world hasn't already crumbled around her, she hears his vile proposition to the other men in the room. "Who's next?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "But it'll cost you."

The room falls silent for a moment, the only sound the harsh slap of skin on skin and Ahyeon's muffled sobs. Then, one by one, the junkies begin to murmur, their greedy eyes appraising her naked, trembling form. "How much?" one of them finally slurs, his voice hungry.

Mr. Son laughs, a deep, evil sound that sends chills down Ahyeon's spine. "Five hundred each," he says, his eyes gleaming with malice. "But if you want to cum inside her, you'll have to pay extra. She's new, after all." Ahyeon's stomach lurches at his words, the reality of what he's offering her for sale like a knife twisting in her gut.

The first junkie, a man with sallow skin and rotten teeth, stumbles forward, fumbling in his pocket for the cash. He tosses it onto the bed, his eyes never leaving Ahyeon's body. She tries to fight, but Mr. Son's hand clamps down harder on her mouth, his grip unyielding. "Good," he says, his voice a sickening purr. "Now, who's next?"

CHAPTER 4 : THE HUMILIATION

Mr. Son, not content with merely watching Ahyeon's degradation, decides to ensure she cannot escape his sadistic plan. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a length of rough rope, the same kind he uses to tie up those who dare to cross him in his business dealings. His eyes gleam with a vile excitement as he approaches the bed, his erection already swelling again at the thought of the additional suffering he can inflict upon the defenseless girl.

As the first junkie unbuckles his pants, Ahyeon's eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape, for a weapon, for anything that might save her. But she's trapped, her body a plaything for these monsters. She feels the warm gush of Mr. Son's release inside her, and a fresh wave of revulsion crashes over her. He withdraws, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watches the first man take his place. "Make it quick," he says, his voice a low growl.

Ahyeon's eyes widen with fear as she realizes his intentions. "No, please, no more," she begs, her voice muffled by his hand. But Mr. Son just chuckles, his breath hot against her ear. "You're going to be a good little slut and take it, aren't you?" He says, his voice a mix of mockery and genuine excitement. "You're going to take it all, and maybe, just maybe, if you're really good, I'll let you keep this shithole you call home."

With a brutal yank, he pulls her arms over her head and ties her wrists to the headboard, the rope biting into her skin. Ahyeon's eyes water with pain, and she whimpers as she feels the cold metal of the bed frame against her skin. Then, with a cruel twist of his smile, he ties her ankles to the foot of the bed, spreading her legs wide. She's completely exposed and vulnerable, her body a canvas for their sick desires. The first junkie, his eyes wild with lust, stumbles forward, dropping his pants to reveal his erect member. Ahyeon's stomach turns as she sees his disgusting, stained underwear fall to the floor.

Ahyeon's eyes are wet with tears as she stares up at the leering junkies, their faces twisted with lust and greed. The first one, the one with the sallow skin and rotten teeth, climbs onto the bed, his body reeking of cheap booze and cigarettes. He grabs her ankles, his grip rough and painful, and pulls them apart even further. Ahyeon's cries for mercy fall on deaf ears as he lines himself up with her bruised and bleeding entrance. With a grunt, he thrusts into her, her body jolting with the pain. The room seems to swirl around her, the faces of the men watching becoming a blur of depravity.

"Take it," Mr. Son snarls, his hand still clamped over her mouth, muffling her screams. "Take it all, you little whore." Each word is a knife, digging deep into the wound of her soul. Ahyeon's body feels like it's on fire, the pain of each thrust a reminder of her father's failure and her own powerlessness. She closes her eyes, trying to block out the sight of the men watching, their eyes glued to her violated body. But even in the darkness of her mind, she can feel them, their hunger for her pain a living, breathing entity.

The junkie's hips buck against hers, his movements erratic and painful. Each thrust feels like it's tearing her apart, filling her with a deep, burning hatred. She wants to die, to escape this nightmare, but she knows that's not an option. Not yet. So she endures, her eyes squeezed shut, her body trembling with each sickening entry. She can feel his excitement building, his breath coming in ragged pants. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, he's done. He pulls out, his semen mixing with her blood and the evidence of Mr. Son's earlier release. Ahyeon's eyes fly open, her chest heaving with sobs as the man rolls off her, his job done.

Mr. Son's sadistic grin widens as he takes in the sight of Ahyeon's tear-stained face and the trembling of her naked body. He releases the rope from her wrists and ankles, the sudden rush of blood making her limbs ache with pain. He yanks her to her hands and knees, flipping her over into a degrading doggy position. Ahyeon's heart feels like it's going to explode in her chest as she's forced to accept another round of brutal violation. The junkies in the room lean in closer, their breath hot and stale with anticipation. They know that Mr. Son enjoys a good show, and they don't want to miss a moment of it.

Mr. Son's meaty hand reaches out and grabs Ahyeon's plump, curvy ass, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. She feels his hot breath on her neck as he squeezes and gropes her, his excitement palpable. His other hand reaches around to fondle her breasts, his calloused thumb rubbing against her hardened nipples. Ahyeon's body shudders with each touch, her skin crawling with revulsion.

Mr. Son's voice is thick with perversion as he praises Ahyeon's body, his words sticking in the air like a foul incantation. "Such a pretty little thing," he murmurs, his hand squeezing her ass. "So young, yet so ripe." His fingertips trace the curve of her hips, his eyes raking over her exposed flesh. Despite her fear and pain, Ahyeon feels a strange sense of detachment, her mind retreating into the furthest corner of her consciousness, watching the scene unfold before her with a distant, numb horror.

The next junkie steps forward, his eyes feverish with lust as he takes in the sight of Ahyeon's vulnerable, trembling form. He's younger than the others, his face a mask of greed as he reaches out to touch her. Ahyeon flinches at his touch, her body a raw wound that screams in protest with every new assault. "Look at me," Mr. Son commands, his voice a whip crack. Ahyeon's eyes snap to his, and she sees the cold, calculating look in them. He's enjoying this, reveling in her pain. "You're going to take it like a good little slut."

Ahyeon's body is a battleground, each thrust a declaration of war against her very soul. She tries to think of anything else, to find some semblance of peace amidst the horror. But all she can see is the room around her, the faces of her father's friends, the cold, unfeeling gazes of men who should be her protectors. The second junkie's grip is even tighter than the first, his nails digging into her hips as he ruts into her from behind. She can feel Mr. Son's eyes on her, watching, savoring every tear, every whimper of pain.

Ahyeon's body jerks in shock as she feels Mr. Son's erection pressing against her anus, the reality of his intentions hitting her like a sledgehammer. The second junkie's pounding inside her is already unbearable, and the thought of Mr. Son adding to her agony is almost too much to handle. She tries to scream, but the junkie's hand is still clamped over her mouth, his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place like a ragdoll. Her eyes bulge with terror as she feels Mr. Son's cock push into her anus, lubricating it with the filth of his earlier abuse.

"So tight," Mr. Son murmurs, his voice low and guttural. "Your young anus are going to swallow it all." His hands hold her back in an iron grip, pushing her down onto the junkie's cock as he begins to thrust into her ass. The pain is unimaginable, a white-hot fire that consumes her entire being. Ahyeon's eyes roll back in her head, and she bites down hard on the junkie's hand to muffle her screams. She can feel herself stretching around Mr. Son, her body begging for relief that will never come. The room is spinning, the pain blurring her vision as the two men take her, assaulting both of her holes simultaneously as she is their personal plaything.

The junkie's grunts are in sync with Mr. Son's thrusts, their movements a macabre dance of degradation and pain. The other junkies in the room watch with hungry eyes, some of them masturbating, others whispering to each other about the virginity they're witnessing being destroyed. Ahyeon's mind is a whirlwind of agony, each thrust from the junkie's cock in her pussy and Mr. Son's in her ass like a hammer on an anvil, driving home the reality of her situation.

"Look at me," Mr. Son commands again, his voice strained with his own sick pleasure. Ahyeon's eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze with a mix of anger and despair. His eyes are wild with lust, his teeth bared in a snarl. "You're going to take it all, and you're going to like it," he hisses, his hips driving into her with increasing force. The junkie beneath her is equally relentless, his grip tightening, his thrusts growing more erratic.

Ahyeon feels herself teetering on the edge of consciousness, the pain a living entity that has swallowed her whole. She can't take much more, she knows, and yet she must. The alternative is unthinkable. With a final, guttural roar, Mr. Son reaches his climax, his seed spilling into her bowels, mixing with the pain and degradation. The junkie beneath her follows suit, his orgasm tearing through her abused body like a tornado. She collapses, her muscles no longer able to hold her up, her body a broken vessel.

Mr. Son withdraws from her anus with a wet pop, his cock glistening with the combined fluids of both him and the junkie. Ahyeon's body collapses onto the bed, her legs giving out from under her. The junkie beneath her is still panting, his cock still lodged deep within her, his own seed filling her already ravaged pussy. The room is silent for a moment, the only sounds the harsh breaths of the men and the soft sobs of the broken girl on the bed.

Mr. Son stands up, his pants still around his ankles, his erection slowly wilting as the reality of his depravity sets in. He looks down at Ahyeon, his eyes cold and calculating. "You're going to be a good investment," he says, his voice a sneer. "A little rough around the edges, but I can work with that."

Ahyeon's eyes are glassy with pain, her body shaking with sobs. She tries to move, to escape the sticky mess of semen and blood coating her, but she can't. Her muscles feel like they've turned to jelly, and she can't find the strength to even lift her head. The junkie rolls off of her, his job done, leaving her sprawled out on the bed, exposed and broken.

Ahyeon's body is a map of pain and despair, her dignity shattered into a million pieces. Mr. Son's words echo in the silence, a chilling reminder of her new reality. She's no longer a daughter, a student, or a hopeful teenager; she's a commodity, a toy for these monsters to use and discard. The junkie who just raped her climbs off the bed, his pants still around his ankles, a satisfied smile on his face. He wipes his cock on the dirty bed sheets, leaving a smear of cum and blood. He exchanges a look with Mr. Son, a silent understanding passing between them. They've had their fun, and now it's time for the others to partake.

The junkies line up, their faces a mix of excitement and apprehension. They know better than to disappoint Mr. Son, but the thought of taking a virgin, especially one so young and beautiful, is intoxicating. One by one, they step forward, each more eager than the last to claim their prize. Ahyeon's eyes are empty, her spirit crushed under the weight of their depravity. She tries to fight, to scream, to do anything to make it stop, but her body is too weak, her voice too hoarse.

The next junkie, a burly man with a scraggly beard, climbs onto the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. He's more rough than the first two, his hands like iron vices as he grabs her hips and slams into her already ravaged pussy. Ahyeon's body jolts with every thrust, her sobs turning into whimpers of agony. She can feel herself stretching around him, her insides feeling like they're being torn apart. "You're going to pay for this," she whispers, her voice barely audible through the sobs.

Mr. Son chuckles, lighting a cigarette as he watches the scene unfold. "Oh, you're going to pay, all right," he says, taking a drag. "But not with money, little girl. You're going to pay with your body, your soul." He takes another drag, the smoke curling around his fingers. "You're going to pay with every drop of cum that fills your pretty little holes."

Ahyeon's eyes burn with hatred as she looks up at him, her voice a broken whisper. "Please, stop. I'll do anything." But her words fall on deaf ears. Mr. Son just smirks, leaning back against the wall with a sadistic glint in his eyes. The bearded junkie grunts with every thrust, his heavy balls slapping against her bruised flesh. She can feel his excitement growing, his breath coming in ragged pants. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, he empties himself into her, his semen mixing with the rest of the disgusting pool inside her.

Ahyeon's body goes slack, the pain and humiliation too much to bear. Her mind is a swirl of darkness, her spirit all but gone. But the horror isn't over. The next junkie takes his place, his eyes glinting with the same sick excitement. He doesn't bother with pleasantries, just grabbing her hips and pushing himself into her, his cock slick with the cum of the others. Ahyeon's body jerks with each new invasion, her cries of pain echoing through the room. The cycle repeats, each man taking his turn, each one more brutal than the last.

Mr. Son watches with a sadistic glee, his cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. He snaps his fingers, and a few of the junkies pull out their phones, recording the entire ordeal. Ahyeon's eyes widen with horror as she realizes she'll be the star of their sick fantasies, forever trapped in this moment of degradation. She tries to look away, but the camera lenses are everywhere, capturing every tear, every grimace of pain. The men around her laugh, enjoying her despair, as they continue to use her like a fleshlight.

The fourth junkie, a skinny man with a pockmarked face, takes his turn, his hands trembling with excitement. He's more violent than the others, his movements jerky and erratic. Ahyeon's body is a mess of bruises and cuts, her insides feeling like they're on fire. She feels like she's going to break, like she can't take another second of this. But she has to, for her father, for their home, for the hope that maybe, just maybe, this will end.

THE END

[softaestluv]

I just read the previous ask of the reader being insecure to initiate sex because she’s insecure of her pussy. I loved it

If you don’t mind can you write for the rest of the members as well?

Prev (for Simon)

John Price

John is quite an experienced man, he’s seen all types of pussies, slept with a wide range of people during his younger years. But as he got older, his scandalous adventures, one-night stands, and friends with benefits became less frequent endeavors. Maybe its from lack of trying, maybe he tells himself its because he’s too busy as a captain, maybe its because he knows he’s not exactly the young sprout he used to be.

He likes to think he used to be a heart throb, handsome, a gentleman, but now, more gray hairs cover his body than not, a pudgy layer of fat covers his muscle, wrinkles and crow’s feet decorate his face, his knees crack when he bends, his back throbs when he stands too long.

He’s old now; he knows that, so he thinks he’s the luckiest man on this Earth because a pretty thing like yourself wants him. Gray hair and all.

So, he’s utterly confused when you’re the one embarrassed to reveal yourself to him, when he thinks he’s the one who doesn’t deserve you.

You knew you couldn’t avoid having sex with John forever— just as long as you possibly could.

Forever seems to end too quickly, found yourself tucked under his broad chest in his bed with nerves digging at your skin. You knew you probably shouldn’t have said ‘yes’ to coming in after dinner together, probably shouldn’t have kissed him down his hallway, stripping yourself of your dress and bra, but he kissed you back with all he’s worth, quelling all your logical thinking skills.

You got a little too lost in the taste of his mouth, the way his hands were so big, warm on your skin, how his beard scratched a delicious ache against your chin and neck, and all that remained was your thin cotton panties. As soon as his fingers dipped into your the seams, tugging on the material lightly, you jumped up.

“Just, um just let me turn off the light,” You explained, scurrying to turn off his light before you crawled under his frame again.

You were glad you couldn’t see his face because you weren’t sure you would be able to meet his eyes, especially not after he laughed.

“Don’t wanna see my old man body that bad?” He joked.

You would’ve ignored it, brushed it off as nothing, but you hated the thought of him thinking you didn’t want to see him, that you thought he was unattractive because you thought anything but.

“John, no, I would never do that,” You sighed, choking over the anxiety swelling in your chest, “It’s me. Well, my pussy. I’ve been told I don’t have a pretty pussy.”

The silence that followed was deafening, you were preparing your exit, remembering where exactly you dropped your clothing to make your escape faster, but his fingers tightened on your hips.

“Don’t know what boys you’ve been sleeping with darlin’, but real men don’t care ‘bout that shit.”

To which he proved, showed you exactly how a man worships a pussy all night long.

John MacTavish

Johnny is loud, boisterous, hairy everywhere, styles his hair into a bloody Mohawk. He hates normal, hates perfection, thinks it’s too damn boring. Prefers unconventional appearances and things that deviant from the norm.

He doesn’t think beauty can be shoved into one perfect box. He likes your flaws, down to the shape of your vulva, and as soon as he finds out you’re insecure he’s cursing stereotypical beauty standards because how dare they make you feel less than.

Does everything in his power to show you how much he loves your pussy.

You dug your fingers into Johnny’s scalp, essentially trying to pull him back up your body; your fight or flight triggered as soon as he slid his face between your legs.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed, “Wait, please, wait, I don’t want you to look at my pussy.”

Luckily, he let you pull him back up, his thick brows furrowed together in confusion.

“What are ye talkin’ bout, hen?” He asked, “Ah’ve gotta see yer pretty pussy if you wan’ me t’eat ya out.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” You explained, staring at the ceiling instead of his blue eyes, “I don’t have a pretty pussy, Johnny.”

Johnny laughed, snorted, “Need tae see it first, hen— let me be the verdict.”

So, naturally, you did, because truthfully, you hadn’t gotten off in weeks, and if Johnny decide your pussy was too ugly for his tastes, well your vibrator at home sure didn’t have any thoughts about it.

Though, you were soon regretting your decision to tell him because his mouth would not stop. You could only pick up on half of what he was saying, a mixture that it has hard to focus on anything other than the fact that his tongue traced your clit perfectly and that it was almost impossible to understand any of his Scottish accent when his tongue was occupied with a mouth full of your pussy.

“Dinnae know what yer on ‘bout, hen. She tastes so good, cannae get enough,” He slurred against your mound, “Dinnae listen tae her, you’re pretty. Real eager too, eh? Desperate little cunt needs tae cum, does she?”

Kyle Garrick

Kyle isn’t as insecure about himself as most people are. He knows he’s handsome, knows he’s attractive, charming, every positive word in the book. His skin is smooth, blemish free, clean and soft, but none of it was natural. Creams, moisturizers, cleansers, lotions, the works were his best friend.

His face wasn’t always like this, acne, dry spots, and ingrown hairs were his biggest enemy when he was growing up. However, he curated a perfect routine to prevent this issue; it took a couple failures and experiments, but he eventually found what worked for him.

So, when he finds out you’re too embarrassed to show him your pussy; he’s instantly offering techniques to help— not that he wouldn’t take it as is, but if it makes you feel better in your own skin, one less thing to worry about then he’s doing everything in his power to help.

When you told Kyle that you didn’t think you had a pretty pussy, you weren’t expecting this. You had expected him to shut you out of his apartment, laugh in your face, say your pussy was ugly like all those who came before him, but he did the complete opposite. You should’ve been mortified, really, when he pulled out a bucket of cosmetics to apply to your pussy.

“This one,” He explained, rubbing soft strokes against your bikini line, “Helps with ingrown hairs.”

Pulling a new oil out, “And this one helps with razor burn.”

You should’ve pushed him away, told him you could apply it yourself, but a strange part of you was enjoying it. Found pleasure in him taking care of you, emotionally and physically, because his fingers felt good on your pussy.

Strangely enough, it became a routine, applying a concoction of his creams and solutions on your pussy before he fucked you within an inch of your life— just covering myself in the creams too, baby, don’t wanna waste it do we?

[nastybuckybarnes]

Coal - Three

Pairing: Alpha!Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Omega!Reader

Summary: Your Alpha gets a wake-up call that he was not wanting nor expecting.

Warnings: A/b/o dynamics, military inaccuracies, language, sexual themes, smut, injuries, lowkey mean!simon, kinda enemies to lovers...

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: did not expect this kinda response to this story ngl but im so so so glad you guys are enjoying it!

~*~

"I don't know how else I can say this. There's no getting rid of her. As long as you remain employed here, these are the terms," Price huffs out, collapsing in his desk chair.

Simon only glares at him.

"But... you do make a valid point," the Captain adds after a moment.

Some tension eases from the Lieutenant's shoulders.

"She's a part of our pack now, and we cannot let that negatively impact our performance on the field."

The very idea of his Sergeants being shit shots simply because a sweet smelling Omega is present is appalling, to say the least.

"I'll have a chat with Laswell, see what her thoughts are. She's going to ask about you," he adds when Simon turns to leave.

The man pauses, one hand on the doorknob, then glances at his Captain over his shoulder.

"She's going to want to know how things are... progressing," he elaborates, "how the two of you are doing. She's already been tossing around the idea of... forced proximity. I don't want to hafta put you through that, Son. I know how you feel about this whole thing and... I just don't want you making this worse on her or on you."

Grunting his acknowledgement, Simon exits the office without another word.

He knows.

He f u c k i n g knows.

Hanging his head he huffs out a heavy sigh then snaps his head forward and yanks his phone out of his pocket.

His fingers hover over the newest contact he was forced to add for a long moment before finally shooting off a text.

He stuffs his phone back into his pocket then heads to the rec room to wait.

You're startled awake by the sound of a heavy fist banging against your door.

Heart in your throat, you rush to check the peephole, your anxiety increasing tenfold when you see who's outside.

Carefully unlocking it, you tug the door open and look up at him nervously.

"When I fucking text you, you answer. Got it?"

You blink up at him a few times in confusion then turn to where your phone lies on your desk.

"I-I'm sorry, I was asleep," you try to explain, rushing over to grab the phone in question.

Simon's firm hand holds the door open, his glare focused on you as you return to the doorway.

"I don't care what your excuse is," he spits, "it could be life or death. You can sleep when you're dead, which you'll obviously be soon if you keep this shit up."

"Okay, I-I'm sorry," you whisper, voice thick as unshed tears sting your eyes.

"Don't be sorry, be better."

His words bite in a way that nothing before ever has, but you find yourself nodding quickly anyway.

"Yes, I'll be better, I promise."

He turns and walks away before you're even finished talking, leaving you stunned in the doorway.

You don't even notice the tears falling until you've closed the door.

Your first real interaction with him and it probably couldn't have gone worse if you tried.

Scrubing your hands over your face you wipe away the evidence of your tears and square your shoulders.

'Don't be sorry, be better.'

The words ring in your ears as you lock your door. They echo through your mind as you strip naked and turn the water on cold.

They pound against your temples as the cool water beats down on you.

They pull your shoulders back as you walk with Price through the mess the next morning.

'Be better' is the mantra that has you chewing each bite of food silently while the rest of the pack chats like nothing is amiss.

Finally, the opportunity to 'be better' arises.

You're sitting at your desk, lids heavy as you read through another book.

Since that first night you've been doing everything you can to stay awake into the early hours of the morning.

From cold baths, to exercising, to reading, to making and re-making your nest.

Your phone vibrating jolts you to full awareness, and you're up and on your feet in the same moment.

It takes a half-second to read the text, another to process it, and thirty-five to get yourself ready to march through the hallways of the base.

You try to move as quickly as you can, not wanting to let your Alpha down again.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you push open the door to the gym with two water bottles held tightly in your grasp.

Soap and Ghost pause their sparring when you enter, and you feel your face screw up in confusion.

Your heart rate slowly returns to normal as Simon approaches and grabs a water bottle from you, taking the second and handing it to Soap.

With empty arms, you stand there, staring at him and waiting for your next command.

You stand there for almost five minutes before Simon even addresses you, and when he does it's just a lifting of a brow as if to ask why you're still standing there.

Slowly, you turn on your heel and exit the room, risking a glance over your shoulder at the door only to find the two of them sparring once more.

The entire walk back to your quarters you ponder what just happened.

You even go so far as to re-read the words on the screen to make sure you're not missing anything.

'Bring two water bottles to the gym.'

You're not even sure what you thought would've happened after bringing the water bottles, but this certainly wasn't it.

And this is only the beginning.

Texts similar to this one start to ring in almost every night.

A text at 4am telling you to bring him tea. Another text at 6am telling you to prepare his plate at breakfast (a plate that sits untouched when he doesn't join you in the mess).

A text at midnight telling you to bring a book to his office and then another when you're on your way telling you to leave it on the floor outside the door.

Though the texts come more frequently, his attitude towards you otherwise stays the same.

It nearly gives you whiplash, and it does nothing to make you feel safer here, in your new home.

And, as if you didn't have enough to worry about, your unclaimed status has become apparent to a few of the more handsy Alphas on base.

"I'm starting to look forward to our little cat and mouse game," one man says, caging you against the wall.

You keep your eyes down and your chin tucked, heart hammering against your ribs.

Seconds before his fingers make contact with your skin he's yanked away from you, an angry Alpha separating the two of you.

"If you're fond of having hands, I'd advise keeping them to yourself. This is the Lieutenant's Omega. Can you imagine all the thing's he'd do to you if he found out you were touching what's his?"

The Alpha stiffens, blood draining from his face.

Only when Captain Price turns to face you does the other man run away, not sparing the two of you another glance.

"Are you okay?"

You don't miss a single beat.

"I'm fine."

He scoffs, as if he's not drowning in the scent of your distress.

"No, are you okay?"

Your mouth opens and closes a few times before settling closed. You can't lie to him, but you can't tell him the truth.

You can't tell him about your sleepless nights, the fear that ices your spine whenever your eyes close. You can't tell him about the image of Simon holding a gun toward you, his eyes icy and cold.

So you say nothing.

"Walk with me."

You obey, falling into a step beside him and keeping your eyes cast down.

The two of you walk in silence for a bit, until you come to a stop outside of his office door.

He digs in his pocket, looking for the key.

"How long has this been happening?" His voice is firm, demanding a straight forward answer.

You let out a heavy breath before answering, and Price can't help but wrinkle his nose as fear overpowers your normally sweet and homey scent.

The key is turning in the lock when you speak.

"Since the first week I got here."

A growl rumbles deeply in his chest and your eyes snap up to his face.

You instinctively break away from him, taking a few quick steps back.

Immediately realizing his mistake, he takes a few deep, calming breaths, then opens the door to his office.

"I'm not mad at you, Omega. You've done nothing wrong."

His use of your title eases your nerves, and the certainty of his words has your shoulders relaxing as you follow him into his office.

He takes his hat off and sets it down on his desk, then takes a seat in the chair, motioning for you to sit down.

You take a seat on the couch along the wall, curling your legs up and shrinking in on yourself.

"If anyone ever bothers you again, you come to us. Any one of us, and we will deal with them." Though he doesn't directly command it, you know this is an order.

It takes a fair amount of self-control for you to stop yourself from scoffing, though.

Sure, he and the two Betas may help you, but your mate seems more than indifferent toward you.

"We're a pack, a family. And... I know Simon might not be the most accepting or agreeable, but we do see you as part of the pack. You're one of us now."

His words tickle a soft spot in your heart and you can't help the tears that well up in your eyes.

Slowly, you lift your eyes to his, and utter what could be one of the most heartbreaking things he's ever heard.

"I wish my Alpha was as kind to me as you are."

Price's shoulders sag and his face falls. He opens his mouth to speak but you're already on your feet.

"I'd better go. Thank you for your help earlier, Captain."

And with that, you take your leave, hurrying through the halls until you get to the safety of your nest.

Captain Price sits in his office for a long while until finally, finally, firing a text off to Simon.

The Lieutenant is in his office two minutes later.

He stiffens upon entry, your distressed scent lingering in the office.

"You would do well to put a mark on that neck of hers. If not for your sake, than for hers," The Captain says, leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose.

All of this has, so far, been far more complicated than he had initially thought it would be.

"What are you talking about?"

What else could the Omega possibly have to complain about? It bothers him to no end that you would go to Price with your complaints.

"Corporal Stevens had her caged against the wall, can only imagine what would've happened if I hadn't stepped in. And apparently this has been going on for a while now."

This pisses Simon off for a whole new reason.

"Why didn't she say anything before?"

Who the fuck would even dare to touch you? To put their hands on something that obviously belongs to someone else?

"Have you ever given her a chance to?"

This shuts him up.

Because Price is right. Not once has Simon given you any indication that he is a safe space, someone you can turn to if you're being bothered.

"Stevens, you said?" He asks, a new determination on his face.

Price heaves a sigh, dragging a hand down his exhausted face.

"Don't do anything I'll need to file paperwork on."

A beat of silence passes between the two of them before Price speaks again.

"If nothing else just... be gentle with her. There's... a girl in there, a young one. One whose scared. Very afraid and very lost and she has no one but us. She can be more than just... what you're making her. If you let her."

Though he externally seems unaffected, Price's words have a deep impact on Simon, burrowing in to his core.

It rouses his inner Alpha, and he can't help but feel upset with himself for pushing you away the way he did.

Sure, he may not be on board, but a little Omega like yourself shouldn't be getting harassed by other Alphas who know damn well they shouldn't even be looking at you much less touching you.

Rising to his feet, he turns on his heel and marches straight toward your quarters.

He's not sure what he wants to say, he just knows that he needs to say something. Needs you to know that if people are bothering you you need to tell him so he can make an example of them.

As he lifts his fist to knock, the door swings open and you stumble into his chest.

A gasp leaves your lips at the sudden presence, and a shiver runs down your spine as warm hands wrap around you to bring you back to your feet.

As quickly as they were on you, his hands retreat.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, taking a step back only for your back to collide with the door to your quarters.

He quickly shakes his head, raising one hand up to silence you.

You drop your head, your inner Omega preparing for whatever lashing awaits, but you're surprised when he speaks and holds no malice in his voice.

Well, none for you at least.

"If anyone so much as looks at you in a way you don't like, you tell me. Got it?"

Your eyes find his face and you feel your brows pull together.

"Wh-what?"

He takes an instinctive step forward and you can feel the heat radiating off of his chest.

"Let me scent you."

"What?"

He says nothing, only stares at you waiting for your consent.

All the times you imagined being scented by your Alpha, this was never the way it played out.

Slowly, you nod, tilting your head back to give him more access to your throat.

He wastes no time, one hand firm on your waist while the other tugs his balaclava up over his nose.

A sharp gasp leaves you as his nose drags across your neck, and you can't help but bring your hands up to his shoulders, nails digging in as he begins taking deep breaths.

He huffs heavily against your skin, drowning you in his scent and overpowering the lingering distress that clings to you.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you whimper softly, your inner Omega preening at the proximity, at finally having his hands on you.

A soft rumbling sound erupts between the two of you, and it takes you a moment to realize it's coming from you.

After minutes that, in truth, feel like both hours and seconds, he pulls away. His pupils are blown wide, balaclava pulled back down over his mouth, and his hand on your waist flexes the tiniest bit.

You blink heavily up at him, purring softly as all your nerves settle now that you've been so thoroughly scented.

"Where were you off to?" He asks after a moment, dropping his other hand down to your waist. His voice is huskier than before, deeper and warmer. You want to burrow into the sound.

You slide your hands down his shoulders to rest on his chest, humming happily in his embrace.

"The rec room... Soap..." you trail off, eyes foggy and mind full of haze.

He hums, sliding a hand over to the small of your back and leading you away from your room.

"Don't want you going anywhere on your own. Not until the others here understand who you belong to. Scent should help."

A shiver ripples down your spine at his words.

Who you belong to.

You belong to him. He's scented you, you're his now. He's accepted it.

As he leads you through the halls he can't help but marvel at how pliant you've become. He wonders if you'd put up a fuss at all if he were to bend you over and knot you right here in the open.

His inner Alpha grows restless at the idea, clawing against the heavy restraints the military has ingrained in him.

Risking a glance down at your hooded eyes, he's certain he could ask you to get on all fours and present like the good Omega you are and you'd do it without hesitation.

The conversation between Gaz and Soap comes to an abrupt halt when they see their Lieutenant ushering you into the room, your eyes far away and your scent heavily masked by that of the big man at your side.

"Don't let 'er go anywhere alone," he barks, handing you off to Soap when the Scot rises to meet the two of you.

"What's goin' on?" He asks, brows furrowed at the determined look on Simon's face.

They have a silent conversation with their eyes, and then Soap is tugging you down to sit between him and Gaz on the couch while Simon turns to find the prick who thought it was okay to touch what belongs to him.

"Hey, little one. How you doing?" Kyle asks, a comforting hand finding its way to your back.

You hum happily and turn to him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Jesus, if this is what happens when you scent the bird I can only imagine wha' she'll be like once she's claimed," Soap says with a grin.

Though his face is happy and relaxed, Gaz can see the tension in his shoulders. He knows that whatever happened to force Simon to scent you couldn't have been good.

"M'his," you murmur, slowly opening your eyes and looking up at the man.

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Said so himself," you boast quietly, a smile pulling at your lips.

Gaz and Soap exchange their own pleased glances before turning their attention back to you.

~*~

Like clockwork, there's a knock on your door the next morning.

Your breath hitches when you open the door and, instead of Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley stands there instead.

He says nothing, only steps aside to give you room to walk beside him.

You're nervous, he can smell it as his hand finds your lower back.

No words are spoken between the two of you as he leads you to the mess, and no eyes follow as the skull-faced Alpha fills up a plate of food then ushers you to your usual seat.

Butterflies swarm your belly when he places the plate down in front of you, then takes his usual seat beside Soap.

There's a brief moment of silence around the table before Gaz gives you a bright smile and wishes you good morning.

Price's eyes connect with Simon's and he gives the Alpha an approving nod, the corners of his mouth turning upward at the energy of the pack.

His pack.

A prickle of anxiety races down your spine and you straighten immediately, eyes darting around for the source.

Your fork clatters to the table when you finally meet his gaze, and you shrink in on yourself a little.

A man, an Alpha, has his steely glare focused on you. His face is more blue and purple than anything else, his neck is secured in a brace, and his right arm is in a sling.

Quickly, you turn your gaze back to your food and pick up your fork, not wanting to make a scene anymore than you're sure you already have.

A low growl rumbles from across the table and you lift your gaze to the man in question, only to find his eyes focused on the injured Alpha who cornered you against the wall.

When you look back over at him, his eyes are on the ground.

A soft breath of relief leaves your lips, one that does not go unnoticed by your pack mates, and then your eyes are drifting back to Simon's only to find them already locked on you.

Your breath hitches and you find yourself stuck once more, unable to look away no matter how much you want to.

His brown eyes lack the usual layer of ice that would frost over them whenever he would look at you. Now, there's something warm in them.

It's such a drastic change from the Alpha that brushed past you that first day in the hall, the one who referred to you as 'a pet'.

A complete 180 from the Alpha who would summon you to the gym just to bring him a water bottle.

Or maybe not.

That night, a text wakes you from your light slumber.

'Bring two water bottles to the gym.'

Sighing heavily, you force yourself to your feet and trudge out of your room to obey his command.

When you get to the gym, however, you're surprised to see no one inside.

Taking a hesitant step forward, you sniff the air, searching for his -now familiar- scent.

You catch it a second too late, and then he's on you. Big arms wrapping around your frame from behind, one hand holding your throat.

A strangled squeak leaves your lips and the water bottles drop onto the floor.

"If you're not with one of us, you can never let your guard down," Simon's voice growls lowly in your ear.

You whimper, trying to tug out of his grip but he doesn't relent.

"There's a reason why everyone who knew you has been led to believe that you're dead. If you don't start watching your back, you will be."

Finally, he lets you go and you stumble forward, panting heavily.

"You're going to learn to fight."

Your brows draw together and you slowly turn to look at him, not understanding.

"That's why you called me down here?"

A slight dip of his head is all the response you get.

"I-I... at least let me get changed," you try, taking a step toward the door.

He sidesteps directly in your way, forcing you to collide with his solid chest.

He's wearing a tight black t-shirt, leaving his thick tattooed arms on full display for your hungry gaze.

His hands grab your wrists, forcing you to stay put.

"The kinda men who want to hurt you aren't going to wait until you've got yoga pants and running shoes on," he says stoically.

Now, in such close proximity, you can finally get a better look at him.

The skull plate has been discarded, a black balaclava all that covers his face.

Freckles lightly dot the exposed skin you can see, and his lashes are blond.

Your Alpha has blond hair.

"Why do people want to hurt me?" You ask.

Your voice comes out as a meek whimper, and it tugs on his heart.

This is exactly why he's refused Omegas before.

"Mostly because they can. You're small, weak. A thing to be conquered. Men want that. Alphas want that."

You frown up at him, letting your little hands go limp in his arms.

"But... I have your scent..." and one day I'll have your mark, is what you don't say.

"That fact alone draws danger." He releases your arms and leads you to the center of the room, circling you like you're his prey.

"You'll never overpower an Alpha. Not physically. Run. Always run. Your scent is too sweet to hide, but it can confuse. Strip down as much as you can, throw your clothes in opposite directions. It will, at the very least, buy you some time. And if you're ever in close proximity with someone who wants to hurt you..."

He trails off behind you and you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Your instincts take over as he pounces, and you quickly sidestep, turning to face him.

"Wait!"

"Your enemy won't wait," He hisses, coming at you again.

This time you slip under his arm, sprinting as far away as you can in the limited space.

"You're not my enemy," you gasp, turning around only for him to be right in front of you.

"Right now I am. And you're caught." He grabs your throat with one big hand. His grip isn't hard enough to hurt, but it is enough to assert his dominance over you.

"You're easy to catch, anyone could have their way with you, knot you, claim you. Is that what you want?!"

His words strike a nerve and before you know what you're doing you taste blood in your mouth and his arm drops away from you.

Simon stares at you with wide eyes, shocked at the feral look on your face and the harsh growl rumbling in your chest.

The bite didn't necessarily hurt, but it was more than enough to stun him for a moment. And a moment is the difference between life and death.

Maybe his Omega isn't as helpless as he thought.

The momentary pause gives you enough time to process what happened, where the taste of blood is coming from, and then you're covering your mouth with your hands.

"I-I'm so sorry!"

He shakes his head, "don't be. That was perfect."

You can't help but preen at his words, his approval, his praise.

"Let me clean this," you whisper, taking a closer look at his forearm.

He says nothing, you're moving before he has a chance. So instead, he watches you.

Watches as you exist in your truest nature, caring for him even after all he's done, all he's put you through.

You grab the first aid kit from the wall and hurry back over to him, ushering him to sit down and kneeling in front of him.

He extends his arm to you, his eyes on your face the entire time as you clean and dress his wound.

Your fingers tremble the slightest bit when you touch him, and you immediately notice the way goosebumps rise on his skin.

Without thinking, you look up at him through your lashes only to find his intense gaze already focused on you.

Your scent spikes, a hint of anxiety tainting the sweetness, and he finds himself naturally exuding his own calming scent.

Finally, you finish bandaging him, smoothing your fingers over the gauze on his wrist only to gasp when his other hand snatches yours up.

He turns your hand over in his, using his other hand to lightly, like the kiss of the moonlight, dust over your skin.

It's a short moment, and then he's releasing you and the careful wall he's built up between the two of you is put back in place.

"You did good. You're tougher than you seem," he says softly.

You give him a half smile.

"I hope I don't have to be tough too often."

[sapphicbb]

FINE LINES — juju watkins

≋ pairing → j. watkins x black!reader

≋ song → fine lines by jorja smith

≋ warnings → angstyyy, ends with fluffy fluff, imagining reader is like 5’10, situationship, no use of y/n, pet name (baby), lowercase intended, unedited sorry!

≋ word count → 2.7k

≋ notes → hihihiii everyone !! my first time writing a wbb ff so go easy on me pls… love my gf juju downnnn ! was gonna make this hella fluffy but then i was like nahhhh but yeah tell me how you feel ab this and if i should write more of these

the pale glow from your laptop illuminated your features as you stared at the assignment you have been trying to complete for the past hour. rubbing your temple, you sigh and close your eyes before laying your head down on the desk.

right before a light slumber could take over your senses, the vibrating sound coming from your phone chimed from besides your head. you rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to let the message sit in the notification center for a bit longer.

something in you told you to flip over the phone and at least see who texted you. listening to that gut feeling, you turned your head to the side and lazily held the screen up. your eyes widened as your gaze scanned over the unsaved number you remembered by heart.

sitting up straight, you rolled your tongue against your bottom lip before unlocking your phone to see the text. a simple “you busy??” was all that was sent, causing you to look back up to the sleeping screen in front of you.

you sucked your teeth and looked back down to the screen, seeing the little three dots pop up and disappear. “not really, wtv??” you responded back because who were you kidding? that assignment was not getting completed tonight.

shutting down your laptop, you thought about what storm juju could possibly be typing up at that moment. you and juju have been in the confusing limbo between lovers and good friends for the past few months and it has been eating you alive.

it wasn't what you wanted, but for the past month you have been picking up juju’s subtle hints of not wanting to be in a committed and labeled relationship with you. it’s been bugging you for a while, but you were scared if you brought up your anxieties with the girl, then whatever is happening between the two of you would come to an end.

you snapped out of your thoughts when you felt your phone vibrate. taking a breath, you slowly opened the message. “ima be there in 20 get ready” you furrowed your brows at text, instantly moving your thumbs to send a text back. “who said you can js come over at 9pm like that…”

a couple seconds passed by before her text back rolled in. “me. now I'm seeing a lot of typing when you should be getting ready… okay? okay.” you let out a small laugh at her remark, a budding smile taking over your lips as much as you tried to counter it with an eye roll of feigned annoyance.

“you're gonna be real surprised when i don't answer that door” you replied before getting off of your bed and walking to your closet, changing from your green moomoo into a black hoodie and sweats. You moved to your vanity where you did your edges and applied vaseline to your lips.

after you were done, you scrolled through tiktok until you heard the familiar sound of a knock on the front door. exiting your room, you maneuvered through the dorm until you reached the front door, debating on whether or not you should make the basketball player wait outside any longer.

counting down from ten at a relatively slow pace, you hid the smile on your face with a bored look as you opened the door. “what happened to not answering the door?” juju smartly questioned, visibly attempting and failing to hide that shit-eating grin that threatened to crawl onto her face.

“girl- you better wipe that smile off your face. ‘shouldn’t have even opened this door.” you said with a small eye roll as you opened the door wide enough for her to step through. “yes ma'am.” she sarcastically stated while entering the dorm. you closed the door behind her before being pulled into a hug.

juju wrapped her arms around your frame, slightly swaying the two of you side to side as she did so. you loved juju’s hugs because they always left you with a smile on your face. as the hug came to an end, you heard the brief and soft sound of juju breathing you in.

“i missed you.” juju admitted, putting her hands in her pockets as she took a step back. “we saw each other a couple days ago, juju.” you said with a slight laugh, mentally stomping on the butterflies that invaded your stomach at her words.

“okay, but like, that was for like ten minutes and my teammates were there. it didn't count.” you rolled your eyes at her defense, crossing your arms. “and how did that not count?” you watched as juju’s eyes scattered around your facial features, landing on your lips for a millisecond more than what would be deemed as appropriate before moving back up to your eyes.

“because i couldn't do this.” before you knew it, you felt juju’s soft and gentle lips on yours. the kiss had a tenderness to it with blatant underlying emotions shining through. she had kissed you like this a couple of times before, but each and every time you feel like you were transported to a place outside of space and time.

you pulled away first and opened your eyes, watching as she did the same. your mind was screaming that she could've if she wanted to, but of course you didn't let it slip out. “you ready to go?” she asked, putting her hands back in her pockets and licking her lips.

“almost, i just gotta put on some shoes and grab my wallet.” you said while beginning the walk to your room, the sound of your slippers clacking with every step.

“girl bye, you know you don't gotta bring your wallet!” you faintly heard juju call out from the living room with a laugh. you shook your head, grabbing your wallet and phone on the desk before moving to your shoe rack and slipping on your black tasman uggs.

you walked back into the main room where you saw juju lounging on the couch with a small smile towards her phone as she typed away. clearing your throat, you made your presence known to juju as she stood up and slid her phone in her pocket.

“you gotta walk louder or something, almost scared the shit out of me.” she dramatically said, clenching at her heart with a laugh as she rounded the couch to you.

you faked a laugh back, catching how quick she put her phone away after just cheesing at it. “where are we going?” you asked as the two of you reached the door, grabbing your keys from the hook as she opened the door for you.

“i was thinking we get some food and chill. those stories on your spam looked like you were going through it.” she said with a shrug, watching as you locked the door and guided the two of you to the elevators.

recalling the sped up video of you on the edge of tweaking out over one of your classes followed by a series of threats of dropping out you posted on your spam’s stories, you didn't think that the girl walking behind you would actually be an active viewer.

you covered your face and quietly groaned, trying to recover from the embarrassment while juju’s light laughs bounced off the walls. stopping in your steps, you quickly snapped your neck to the girl, almost getting whiplash as you put your hand on your hip and gave her an accusatory look.

“whats so funny?” she stopped laughing at your sharp, yet playful, words, holding her hands up in defense as a smile slipped onto her face. “nothing at all. must've been the wind…” she drew out as you tilted your head and narrowed your eyes.

“mhm, that's what i thought, four eyes.” you hummed out, watching the overhead lights slightly reflect from her glasses. you loved how she looked with her glasses, but you could never resist the urge to tease her about them.

you also had glasses but never wore them. your eye doctor hates to see you coming.

turning back around as you watched her jaw drop and the elevator doors open. “see, cause we can really get active.” she jokingly sized you up, causing you to wave her off before stepping in the elevator. “lets get active then!” you dramatically challenged, bringing your hands up into a fighting stance and waving your hands.

juju shook her head with a smile and rolled her eyes when you motioned for her to make a move. she lightly slapped the side of your head and weaved away from your slap back.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

you gazed at juju’s side profile as she made a turn out of the chick-fil-a parking lot. the mellow sounds of tonight by summer walker drifted through the car, accompanied by juju’s faint hums. “i can feel you staring.” she let out, a small smile playing at her lips when she shifted her eyes onto you once the light turned red.

“i don't know what you're talking about.” you covered up, facing directly ahead of you even though you were already caught. juju shook her head and shifted in her seat, occasionally looking back over at you. after a few minutes of comfortable silence and you texting your friends, you felt juju back up into a parking space and looked up.

she had driven the both of you to a small and relatively empty park. after getting out of the car, you grabbed the bag of food and she grabbed the drinks before heading to a picnic table by a streetlight. setting the food and drinks on the table, you took the seat across from her.

“you really have to let me pay next time, judea.” you drew out, removing your portion of food from the bag and setting it on the table along with napkins. juju sucked her teeth and waved her off as she dipped a fry.

“government is crazy, but i was the one who invited you out, it just makes sense that i pay.” she shrugs before eating the fry. “okay but, even when i invited you to the fair like three weeks ago you wouldn’t let me pay for anything but the food.” she took a sip of her drink before responding.

“let me appreciate you how i want to, okay?” she playfully declared, continuing to eat her food. you dramatically sighed, taking a bite of your own food. a comfortable silence rested amongst the two of you until juju eventually broke it.

“i also wanted to spend time with you because i feel like you've just been hella distant lately. at least with me.” she expressed in a more serious tone, eyes studying your body language and expressions behind those thick rimmed glasses.

you furrowed your brows, although deep down you knew there was some truth to what she was saying. although the two of you weren't in an official relationship, you still felt some type of way when you saw or heard about her flirting with other girls.

it pained you each and every time and the best way you could think of becoming less bothered was by giving her some space and treating the situation the two of you had going on as more of a friendship than what you so deeply wanted it to be.

“i’ve just been so busy with school and work.” you partly lied. “bullshit. i’ve seen you laughing it up with your other friends around campus, but when i want to facetime or spend time with you lately you've been ducking me more and more. why is that?”

you scratched your eyebrow, contemplating on if it was the right time to have this conversation. her phone lit up, but she paid no mind to it. as you opened your mouth to speak she cut you off before you could come up with an excuse.

“and don't tell me another weak excuse. you know i hate when you do that. just tell me the real reason straight up.” she stated, watching the conflicting emotions take over your face.

“i like you a lot.” you started out, keeping your eyes focused on your cup as you played with the straw. “and i like you a lot.” juju responded with a shrug like it was common knowledge.

you bit down on your bottom lip before sighing. “what are we doing?” you asked her, finally making eye contact with the girl in front of you. you’ve been avoiding it this whole time due to how strong her gaze felt. “you tell me.” you rolled your eyes at her remark and began fidgeting with your hands.

“it feels like i’m the only one who wants to make what we have official. i want to be in a real relationship with you and…” you sighed, running a hand over your head, deciding that you should just let all your emotions out. “fuck it, i’ll just say it. seeing you flirt with and entertain other girls makes me feel like shit inside. and i get it if you're not ready—you’ve made it known—but, like, tell me now before i get more attached.”

you're heart hurt as you looked anywhere but the girl in front of you as you tried to hold back any tears from falling. it was silent for a second, the only sounds that were heard were the sounds of the tree’s in the breeze and the distant traffic.

you felt nauseous with how long juju was taking to respond, wishing that you just kept your mouth shut and didn't tell her how you were actually feeling. “who said i wasn't ready?” your eyes instantly snapped to the brown-eyed girl in front of you.

your eyebrows furrowed as she continued. “baby, i’ve been waiting for you to say something. you've been so distant so i thought you really didn't want anything to do with me like that.“ she begun, taking a breath of relief. you started to shake your head but she nodded with a smile.

“i know that's not what it is now, but for like the past few weeks that's what i thought it was. i might sound like a total dick for saying this but i genuinely dont care for any of the girls i have been entertaining with the way i care for you. they were honest distractions until you came around wanting more than what we have now.”

you felt so many emotions at the moment, but the one that shined through the most was the pure joy at her words. “if i knew we were on the same page, i would've been asked you to be my girlfriend!” you expressed with a laugh, causing juju’s smile to grow bigger.

“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” she cheeses, slightly bringing a shoulder up as she grabbed your hand. you tried to go stale face but were too overjoyed at the moment. “No. I want to do something special.” you could see how she blushed at your words and adjusted her glasses.

“you don't have to do all that…” she drew out but you shook your head. “let me appreciate you how i want to, okay?” you mimicked her words back to her, causing her to playfully gasp and remove her remaining hand from your hand.

“not you using my words against me, wow…” she drew out with a laugh. the two of you finished your food as you went into playful banter.

after chatting at the park for a good twenty minutes, the two of you were back in the car heading towards your dorm. the energies were much different than they had been on the way to the park.

the rays of each streetlight the car passed seeped through the windows and casted a light glow upon the two of you. juju grabbed your jaw with one hand, squeezing your cheeks and moving your head side to side while she loudly sang along to gonna love me by teyana taylor.

as the car reached a red light, you stole a kiss to which she happily gave. the car was full of hope, happiness, and blissful young love. you couldn't have imagined a better outcome for the night.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

[venusianelf]

Bunny and Her Ghosts

Pairing: Billy Loomis x F! Reader x Stu Macher

Genre: Smut

Summary: Your darkest, most secret desires come true, when you wake up to two masked killers standing over you at an otherwise boring party.

Warnings: Dark Fic, Corruption/Innocence Kink, Dumbification Kink, Knifeplay, Unprotected Sex (Use protection irl please), Blood Kink, Mask Kink, Uses of Daddy and Sir, Weed and Alcohol Consumption, Predator/Prey Kink, Dacryphilia, Double Penetration (PiV & Anal), Mentions of death (Of Sidney, Gale, Others Implied, No Major Character Death), Overstimulation, Biting, Humiliation, Praise and Light Degradation, Tummy Bulge, Creampie, Choking, Reader is about as mentally and morally fucked up as Billy and Stu, Billy and Stu are an established couple

Word Count: ~5,300

A/N: Apparently I’m in a writing mood lol, also this is my longest fic I’ve written in one sitting now, fellow ghostface fuckers enjoy :)

!!By clicking read more you are agreeing you are 18+!!

You weren’t sure how your friends managed to convince you to come to this party. Well you did technically, offering free booze and weed while watching horror movies? Count you in. You weren’t anticipating this many people to be here though. You covered yourself a little tighter with your jacket as you tried to focus on the horror movie on screen and Randy’s ramblings about horror movies rules, instead of the crowd of people that seemed to be throughout the house. Taking a sip of your beer, you cringed at the taste. Whoever had bought the beer had obviously opted for the cheapest option, but whatever, as long as it took the edge off your social anxiety. 

You sighed in relief as most of the crowd rushed out of the house at the announcement of a body at the school. You wondered vaguely where Tatum had gone, it had been a bit since she’d left the room. Honestly, you were too high and tipsy to really think about it too long though. You glanced at Randy, who was the only one left on the couch with you, he seemed more out of it than you, which surprised you but not by much. You stood up for a moment and stretched, since you’d been on the couch for a while. “Hey, where are you going?” Randy slurred as you headed out of the room. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick,” You replied, careful not to say you’d be right back after his lecture about it earlier. He nodded in response and you headed upstairs to use Stu’s bathroom, you hoped he wouldn’t mind, you two were fairly close friends after all, and you weren’t very keen on using the bathroom downstairs that all the drunk party goers had been using all night. 

After using the bathroom, you looked in the mirror as you touched up your makeup. Brushing some smudged eyeliner away, you heard a muffled scream from downstairs. You paused for a second but brushed it off as someone probably getting jumpscared from the scary movie playing downstairs. You sighed as you thought about your friends, you loved them yeah, but they got on your nerves sometimes. Like how they had invited you to this party with so many people, knowing how much you hated big crowds. In your hazy state, as you exited the bathroom, you glanced at Stu’s bed and decided that maybe laying down for a minute would help you decompress a little. Climbing onto the bed, you curled up on your side and let yourself relax for a moment.

Hearing voices nearby, you stirred from your accidental nap. “Look, she’s waking up,” you vaguely heard as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. The voice didn’t sound familiar, oddly more deep and robotic than any of your friends. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” A similar but not the same voice said as you blinked your eyes open. “Huh?” You replied as you realized you were looking at two people wearing the costume Sidney had described the killer wearing. You tilted your head at that, you were pretty sure it was just your friend group left in the house, and you didn’t think they’d made such a tasteless joke with Sidney around. Though you couldn’t deny the almost unperceivable shiver that ran through you from their masks. “Guys, you might want to make sure Sidney doesn’t see that, she’d freak,” You said as you moved to prop yourself to sit up on the bed. “Sidney, Sidney, doesn’t matter what the whore would think anymore,” One of the two said as confusion crossed your face. “Aw look at that, she doesn’t even realize her friends bodies are laying downstairs,” The other voice teased, and you felt even more confused until you realized the small dots on the face on the masks were red. 

Blood, you realized, is what was covering them. As it dawned on you, you scrambled back on the bed until your back hit the bed frame. “Now she gets it,” The first voice chuckled as the second ghostface moved towards the bed, catching one of your ankles in their gloved hand and yanking you further down the bed towards him. You squeaked out in surprise as the ghostface above you chuckled at your reaction. “You’re the one in my bed, little girl, don’t act so surprised,” He teased at your shocked expression. It took you a moment to process, but you realized he had said you were in his bed, meaning the killer above you was- “Stu?” You asked as he chuckled and with his free hand not on your ankle ripped the mask off. “The one and only babydoll,” He said with a chuckle and eyebrow wiggle. Your gaze flickered between Stu and the other ghostface as he came closer to you to join Stu. 

“You didn’t need to reveal yourself to her, dumbass,” The still masked ghostface criticized to Stu. Stu rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, but did you see the look of shock on her face? Worth it,” He explained, and you felt your tummy flutter at the way the two of them talked about you like you weren’t right in front of them. The still masked ghostface studied you before sighing. “C’mon we need to just kill her,” He said as Stu made a boo’ing noise. Your eyes widened at the masked ghostface’s words as the gravity of the situation dawned on you. “And waste the chance of such a pretty thing in my bed?” He whined as the ghostface groaned in annoyance. “Really?” He asked, exasperated, as your gaze flew back to Stu from his previous words. As much as the situation was fucked up, you still felt your cheeks warm at hearing one of your closest friends insinuating he wanted more than just friendship with you. You had always thought him and your friend Billy were hot, but they were both taken. 

The gentle massaging from Stu on the ankle brought you back to reality as you realized Stu was looking at you with an expectant and hungry gaze. “She wasn’t even paying attention,” The ghostface commented as your gaze flickered to his mask. “I- ‘M sorry,” You stuttered out in apology, your submissive scared demeanor causing the ghostface to cuss under his breath. “He said, you’ll be good for us if we give you a chance to earn your life, right?” The ghostface reiterated and you nodded rapidly. While yes, you were willing to do whatever you could to save your life, you also couldn’t deny the growing need in your tummy from the situation. “Use your words, pretty girl,” Stu said as you looked up at him with your doe eyes. “Yes, I’ll be good for you two,” You rushed out as you watched Stu’s eyes darken at your eagerness and heard the ghostface groan. 

You watched as Stu reached forward with his free hand and caressed your cheek, smudging some blood along your face. You leaned into his touch as your eyes fluttered shut before feeling something cold and sharp trace along your collar bone. Snapping your eyes open, you looked down to see the ghostface tracing a knife along your skin. The sharp blade so close to your neck sent a shiver of fear and also arousal through you as you gasped at the sensation. “Fuck, she’s into it,” The ghostface muttered, seeming fascinated by your reaction as Stu giggled gleefully. “I told you she was perfect, man,” Stu giggled, and you briefly wondered when him and the other killer had talked about you before. “There’s still time to for you to be wrong,” The ghostface said as he trailed the knife down to your tank top and cut the strap of it. You looked between the two of them, and Stu smiled at you gleefully and darkly, while the ghostface seemed focused on moving to cut the other strap of your tank top. 

As the fabric gave away when he cut it, your top fell a little, giving them a better look at your cleavage. You heard Stu wolf whistle as the ghostface sucked in a breath. The two of them leaned back to look over you, Stu left his hand encircled on your ankle to keep you from running away. “Do you want to play this the safe way or the fun way, bunny?” The ghostface asked as you tilted your head at his question. “W-What’s the fun way?” You asked curiously as you watched Stu try to contain his excitement, the ghostface tilt his head slightly. “You run, we catch you, if you try to actually escape we’ll kill you, but if you play along as our prey,” He paused as you watched his head tilt as he checked you out, “Then we’ll give you the most memorable night of your life, and maybe let you live afterward.” Your eyes gleamed in excitement at the idea, you couldn’t deny the thrill building in you at the idea of your darkest, most private fantasizes coming true. 

“The fun way,” You decided as you watched Stu smile widely at your answer. You watched as the ghostface leaned close to you as he dragged the tip of his knife under your chin to tilt your head up towards him, “Then get running.” You felt Stu’s grip leave your ankle as vaguely registered him slipping his mask back on. You quickly leaped off the bed and ran out the door frame before pausing and looking back at them as one of them waved his knife at you, almost like a wave. Turning back around, you dashed off into the house. Looking down the stairs, you suddenly recognized the bodies of your friends and even that one reporter chick lying in cold blood on the floor. You gasped but moved towards one of the other rooms upstairs, the fear from knowing they were serious about being killers only heightening your sick excitement. 

“Ready or not, here we come,” You heard one of them call out as you held your hand against your mouth, muffling your breathing as you hid in a wardrobe you found in one of the bedrooms. You listened as you heard the two distinct set of footsteps wander around the house. “I hope I find her first,” You heard one giggle through the modulator, which you figured was probably Stu. “Shut up and find her then,” The other replied, which you could make out more clearly due to his closer proximity. Hearing the doorknob of the room you are in twist open as the footsteps got closer to you, you decided to hold your breath as you heard him searching for you. His knife you recognized was tapping along various surfaces in the room as he searched. “You in here bunny?” He called out as you bit back your excited giggle. Apparently not well enough when you heard his steps pause as if he was listening for you. 

You gasped behind your hand when the door to the wardrobe flung open, “Well, well, look what we have here.” Your eyes widened at being caught before you quickly squeezed past him to run from him. You squeaked when his arm came out across your chest and pulled your back into his chest. “Nuh uh, you’re mine now, bunny. I caught you fair and square,” He chuckled at your labored and excited breathing as you struggled against him weakly. His knife moving to trace your neck and chest again as you gasped, your head falling backwards against his chest as your eyes shut. “Little bunny likes getting hunted, huh?” He asked as condescendedly laughed at your reaction. “Uh huh,” You replied, attempting to catch your breath, to which he tsk’d at. “You know better, use your words,” He chastised, to which you nodded submissively in response to. “Yes sir,” You gasped as his knife nicked your collar bone lightly. He groaned in response before shoving you on the bed in the room. You looked up at him in surprise from his actions as he tilted his head while looking at you. “Take off your top,” He said, gesturing to it with his knife. You quickly complied, tearing your top off as he groaned appreciatively at the revelation you weren’t wearing a bra. 

Seeing your bare skin and tits, he climbed onto the bed and on top of you. You held your breath in anticipation before he took your chin in the grasp of his free hand, smudging some of the blood on his hands onto your skin. “Open that pretty mouth, bunny,” He demanded, and you opened your mouth compliantly in response. You could almost sense his smirk under the mask before you felt the cold and metallic taste of his knife on your tongue. “Clean it up,” He ordered as you began licking it, the coppery taste blooming on your tongue before you realized it was still covered in the blood of your dead friends downstairs. You moaned at the realization, the sick pleasure spreading throughout you as you cleaned off the knife. You could hear his breathing pickup as he realized you were also getting off on it. “What a naughty little bunny you are, getting off on the blood of your dead friends,” He chuckled as you blushed from him calling you out. He pressed the tip of the blade down on your tongue just enough for you to feel the sharpness but not enough to cut you. You squirmed under him at the sensation but tried to stay still enough so you wouldn’t accidentally nick yourself. 

He shook his head in disbelief before pulling the knife out of your mouth and trailing it down your neck to your chest. “Man! Where is she?” You heard Stu call out as you giggled under the ghostface on top of you. Hearing your giggle, Stu came to the room the two of you were in before gasping. “Unfair! You found her first?” He whined, but you could tell through his mask that his gaze was excitedly trained on the position the two of you were in. “Shut up,” The ghostface on top of you groaned, but his tone conveyed more playful annoyance than real frustration. Stu walked over to the two of you before circling to the other side of the bed and stood behind where your head laid on the bed. “Now the fun starts,” Stu giggled as the ghostface on top of you moved his knife to gesture at Stu. “The fun has already started,” He replied, before Stu shrugged. “You know what I mean man,” He responded to which you giggled underneath the ghostface on top of you at their bickering. 

The ghostface on top of you snapped his gaze down to you at the giggling. “Enjoying the show, bunny?” He asked which you nodded in reply. “Well it’s about to get a whole lot better!” Stu exclaimed, to which the ghostface on top of you glanced at Stu before looking back down at you. “Let’s see how you like the reveal,” He chuckled before reaching up and ripping off his mask. You gasped as you realized your second hunter had been Billy. Thinking about it a little harder, you realized that would make sense from what you picked up on so far, but you couldn’t help but feel your panties get wetter at the realization. “Billy?” You asked with wide eyes as his dark gaze trained on you. “Yep,” He replied, you saw out of the corner of your eye Stu taking his mask off too. You blushed from realizing just much your most secret fantasizes were coming true. Billy raised an eyebrow at your reaction before glancing up at Stu. “Guess you were right about her attraction to us,” He commented, and Stu giggled. “Yeah dude, I have eyes, so it was fucking obvious,” He replied, to which Billy glared at Stu for. You felt yourself blush harder at Stu saying you were obvious about your attraction to them. 

Billy glanced down at you before chuckling. “No need to be shy about it, bunny,” He said as he began tracing circles around one of your nipples. You gasped and arched up into the sensation. “Look at that man, she’s a fucking freak,” Stu giggled excitedly at your reaction. Embarrassment flooded you at Stu’s words as you shut your eyes. “Nuh uh, Look at me,” Billy chastised as his knife moved to tap on your cheek. You opened your eyes and fought to keep them on Billy. “That’s a good girl,” He praised as you felt yourself melt from his words. Seeing your reaction, Billy tossed the knife beside you two before grasping your chin harshly and pulling you into a rough kiss. You gasped in surprise at his sudden and harsh kiss, which he took as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Which quickly turned you into a squirming, flustered mess. When he pulled back, a string of spit connected you for a moment before, it broke, which Stu groaned at. “Man, I’m tired of waiting,” Stu whined, which Billy seemed to contemplate for a moment before nodding. 

“You’re right, we’ve waited long enough,” He replied before looking down at your skirt, he quickly found the zipper to it before tossing your skirt off of you. You could vaguely see out of the corner of your vision Stu messing with his own clothes as Billy picked the knife back up from beside you and quickly cut the sides of your panties before tossing the scrap of cloth somewhere else in the room. You gasped at the sudden move and moved to close your thighs, but Billy stopped you with his free hand moving to your inner thigh. Billy hummed appreciatively at the view. “Damn, you should see how wet she is,” Billy groaned as Stu giggled. “You wet for the two of us, princess?” Stu asked rhetorically, but you nodded enthusiastically anyway. Billy raised his eyebrow at you, reminding you of his preference for you to use your words. “Y-Yes daddy, I am,” You replied in response to Stu, which made him groan at your choice of words. “Fuck,” He swore under his breath as Billy’s eyes darkened too. 

You choked on a moan in surprise when you felt Billy’s finger suddenly brush against your clit. You could feel both of their predatory gazes on your form as Billy studied your reactions to find the best ways to get the reactions he wanted from you. You faintly registered Stu as one of his hands brushed his fingers through your hair before his fingers from his other hand tap on your lips. “Open up princess,” He ordered, and you complied willingly, and he groaned at your eager response. Stu grasped your hair, making you gasp before tapping his cock that he freed when you weren’t paying attention against your lips. “C’mon baby, suck it for daddy,” He groaned as you fluttered your eyes shut as you began licking and sucking the tip of his dick.

You could feel Billy’s eyes trained on the interaction in front of him, as Stu pushed his dick further into your throat, making you choke and gag momentarily before you forced yourself to breathe through your nose. Stu gave you a moment to adjust before you began eagerly sucking him, and he began moving along with your movements. You could hear him groaning above you before you moaned around his dick when you felt Billy suddenly insert a finger into you. “Fuck, whatever you just did, keep doing it,” Stu moaned out to Billy, which got him a glare you couldn’t see, but Billy continued his movements regardless. Once Billy felt you loosen up, he added an addition finger as he continued using his thumb to rub your clit. He had you moaning all over Stu’s cock, causing Stu to throw his head back from the sensation. You could feel the pricks of pleasure beginning to build up in you as they continued. As you began squeezing Billy’s fingers, he groaned. “She’s close,” He commented, which made Stu also groan. “Go on bunny, give it to us,” Billy encouraged as you felt your peak hit you. You moaned loudly at the feeling, causing you to tense and squeeze his fingers as the bright, hot pleasure coursed through you. Billy continued to fuck you with his fingers through your orgasm as you shook. 

You heard Stu groan and his dick twitch before feeling the saltiness of his cum cover your tongue and throat. Once the two of you came down, you felt him pull himself from your throat. Billy grabbed your chin with his hand and tilted it towards him as your eyes fluttered open, his fingers covered in your slick moving to tap at your lips which you happily licked and sucked cleaning, making Billy groan at the erotic sight. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he squeezed your jaw to open your mouth to check you had swallowed both you and Stu’s cum. “Good girl,” He praised at the sight of your clean mouth. You gasped when you felt hands drop to your hips and pull you to align you to his cock that you didn’t know when he had untucked from his clothes. “Ah! Wait!” You called out in protest from still feeling extra sensitive. You saw his eyes darken a fraction instead before he pushed into you, your head falling back against the bed as you choked on a moan.

“I told you we had already waited long enough,” He said, punctuating his words with thrusts, not giving you time to adjust. Stu groaned from behind you as his gaze fixed on the way your tits bounced with Billy’s thrusts. “Fuck man, I just finished, watching you two is gonna get me hard again,” He grumbled. “Not my fucking problem,” Billy bit back as struggled from the tightness of your cunt gripping him. You whined and squirmed from the overstimulation which Billy chuckled at. “You can take it, bunny,” He commented before groaning as his gaze caught sight of the bulge in your tummy from where he was fucking you. “Fuck, look at that,” He said as one of his hands moved to push down on the bulge, making you gasp and writhe. “Shit,” You heard Stu groan as he caught sight of your tummy bulge from Billy. “Your cunt was fucking made for us, wasn’t it?” Billy asked as you found yourself unable to reply. “Aw, did we already fuck you, stupid bunny?” He teased as your doe-eyed gaze caught his, and you nodded submissively in response. The two of them groaned at your response, and you felt Billy’s dick twitch inside you. “I know you have another orgasm in you. C’mon milk my cock for me baby,” Billy demanded as his hand that had been on the bulge moved down to play with your clit, making you whine against the overstimulation.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you gasped and struggled against the waves of painful pleasure, feeling the coil within yourself grown tighter and tighter before it snapped. You felt tears begin rolling down your cheeks at the intense orgasm as you spasmed on Billy’s cock, making him moan out. It wasn’t long before you felt him twitch before he bit into your shoulder as you felt his warm cum spill into your wet cunt. You sobbed against the intense sensations as he fucked you both through your orgasms. Once he stilled in you, you fought to catch your breath, to which you heard Stu giggle above the both of you. “Goddamn, you made her cry,” He commented to which Billy leaned up over you again looking down at your wet face before groaning. “Fuck,” He swore, and you felt his cock start to harden inside of you again, which made you gasp.

You sighed in relief for a moment when you felt Billy pull out of you, before whimpering when you heard his next words. “Your turn,” He said, nodding to Stu. Stu giggled excitedly before crawling on the bed with you two. Billy moved you and him so he was behind you leaning against the bed frame and Stu was in front of you. Your head limply laid against Billy’s chest as Stu looked over your fucked out body. “Shit, look at her,” Stu giggled before leaning down, so his face was level with your cunt, you blinked open your eyes just to see him and whined knowing your pleasurable torture was soon to continue. Billy chuckled at your reaction and brushed your hair off your back and over your shoulder as he placed surprisingly soothing kisses against your shoulders. Your eyes shut as you moaned out when you felt Stu lick up Billy’s cum dripping out of you.

Stu experimentally probed his tongue into you as he pulled out more of Billy’s cum to lap up. It faintly occurred to you that the two of them had probably fucked each other before. Stu groaned at the taste before moving to circle your clit with his tongue, choking your thoughts and losing yourself again to the intense pleasure. “Ngh- Please,” You sobbed which made Stu groan, the feeling making your sob turn into a moan as he sucked onto your clit, his hands grasping at your thighs and trying to pull you ever closer. “Please what?” Billy asked from behind you as he began sucking hickeys into the crook of your neck. “Please,” You choked out, too far gone to know what you were begging for anymore. Billy chuckled against your neck at your broken pleas. “I think she wants to cum again, Stu,” He commented, which made Stu eat you out with even more fervor than before. You sobbed at the familiar feeling of your orgasm creeping up on you for the third time. You tensed as you felt the pleasurable coil overstimulate you as you approached the edge. “C’mon baby, cum for us,” Billy commanded as you sobbed broken moans as you fell over the edge again. Stu groaned from between your thighs as you tasted your new wave of slick. You cried as Stu carried you through your orgasm. Your sobs picking up as you came down, and your sensitivity kicked in extra hard. Stu pulled back covered in your slick, and you felt Billy lift his head from where he had been busy sucking hickeys onto your skin to look at Stu. You fluttered your eyes open in time to catch them exchanging gazes before Stu leaned towards Billy and Billy grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. Billy groaned at the mixed taste of your slick and Stu’s saliva. You watched in awe as they made out. 

When they pulled back, Stu looked over at you before giggling, “What? Surprised?” He asked, to which you just looked at him with starry eyes. Billy raised an eyebrow behind you at your lack of response. “Man, I think we fucked her out of words. She’s looking at me like I hung the stars,” Stu giggled, which made Billy groan. “You got one more round in you, bunny?” Billy asked from behind you, and you hummed affirmatively in response as you leaned back against him. You didn’t see the look Billy gave Stu, but Stu shuffled to move your thighs so he could line himself up with your entrance. You moaned as you felt Stu fill you to the brim in one harsh thrust. Stu moved to kiss along your neck, licking up some dried blood from what had been smudged on you earlier. You gasped when you felt Billy’s fingers prod at your backside. “Relax baby,” You heard Billy purr in your ear, so you did your best to relax your muscles as his fingertip prodded into you. 

You gasped and whined as you felt him slowly prepping you, while Stu stayed as still as he could. After a few moments, you felt a second finger creep up to join the first. You arched at the still new sensation to you. Billy chuckled at your reaction before continuing to prep you. Once he deemed you ready, he pulled his fingers from you, causing you to whine at the loss. “It’s okay bunny, you’ll be full again soon,” Billy whispered as the tip of his dick prodded at your back entrance. As he pushed into you, you gasped and squirmed. “Shit, she’s getting even tighter,” Stu groaned out as Billy slowly continued filling you up. Once Billy bottomed out in you, you squirmed as you adjusted to the sensation. Eventually, you started gasping and squirming, looking for more. “Ah, there we go,” Billy cooed as he felt you looking for more pleasure from them. 

At that Billy began thrusting into you, making you moan, but when Stu also began you moving your mind started swimming. You felt like you were drowning in the pleasure they were giving you. Billy hands rested on your waist and Stu’s on your thighs as they fucked you in tandem. Your hands reached out around the back of Stu’s neck as you clawed at his back, making Stu moan from the mix of pleasure and pain. You felt incredibly full from both of them inside of you. “Fuck, man,” Stu swore as you felt one of his hands leave your thigh to press on the even bigger bulge in your tummy than before. He moved to grab one of Billy’s hands and moved it to the bulge, making Billy groan as well. Billy’s hand moved away from the bulge and trailed up to your throat as Stu kept his hand pressed on the bulge, deeping the fullness you were reeling from. “One more, bunny, one more,” Billy commanded as his hand rested on your throat before he applied pressure, your moans getting choked into broken sobs and gasping for air. You tightened around them both as pleasure surged through you, and you fought for air. Just as you were about to peak, Billy released his grasp and oxygen flooded through you, making you cum and sob on their cocks. 

“Just like that, fuck,” Billy groaned as Stu twitched before painting your insides white from your fluttering cunt gripping him so tightly. Stu moaned and buried his head in your neck as Billy’s head fell back against the headboard as he also let go and buried his dick in you, letting you milk his cum as he shot rope after rope into you. You gasped and whined at how stuffed you felt. They fucked you through your combined orgasms before they stilled in you. You felt Billy press a tender kiss against your head as Stu cuddled into you, and you pulled him closer with your arms around the back of his neck. After several moments, you wet your lips before attempting to speak. “Did I do good?” You asked leaning into their touches as Billy and Stu chuckled. “You did perfect,” Billy said, calling back to when Stu said you’d be perfect. You smiled lazily at that. “Don’t think we’re letting you go anywhere now, though,” Stu replied, squeezing you for emphasis. You felt Billy nod in agreement behind you. “Why would I want to go anywhere else?” You asked genuinely confused by the idea that you’d try to run away from them. Billy chuckled before placing another tender kiss to your shoulder blades. “Damn, you’re just as crazy as us, huh?” He teased to which you giggled at. “Maybe,” You replied, letting comfort wash over you, your two new lovers may be serial killers, but their arms felt like the best place in the world to you.

[stereoqueen]

sunshine - pt2 - l.hughes

summary: luke runs into a coffee shop before morning skate, semi-hoping that hallie is there like old times.

< previous > < next >

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Where you going, Rusty?" Jack's voice echoes through their apartment as Luke shakes his head, picking up his bag. "To morning skate, where else would I be going on Sunday?" He replies as his brother pulls a protein shake out of the fridge. "I've never seen you up this early for a morning skate," Jack says quizzically. Luke shrugs, walking out the door, "See ya!"

The drive to the practice facility was making him nervous. Nervous enough to drive in silence and drown his thoughts. Luke was never known to be an anxious guy, especially over girls. The fact that he could see her again and it would be real…. heightened his anxiety. The internet portrayed him in two ways -- the younger brother who has a lot on his shoulders: cute, quiet, and kept to himself; or the wildcard brother: cocky, arrogant, not Quinn and not Jack. Both sides had one thing in common: no public relationships.

In all honesty, he was a mix. He liked his quiet time; he was kinda reserved, but he was also headstrong, knew he could play better, and had big shoes to fill. The only person who really knew his love life was his best friend, Dylan. Sure, he tried to date a few girls in college, but they either wanted to date him to get to his brothers or just use him for his reputation on campus. That's where the "womanizer" branding came from; Jack's reputation also helped solidify it. He was hoping Hallie didn't know about it so he could have a fair shot-- or just didn't care.

Pulling into the practice facility garage, he decided to man up and go to the coffee shop across the street. He was over 45 minutes early before he had to change into his gear.

If she was there, he would work up the courage and talk to her.

If she was not there, he would get the coffee and get ready insanely early.

He exited his BMW, walked through the garage and across the street. The coffee shop's main windows had seating, and he could see her stuff through the window. He opened the door, and the dinging of the bell rang through his head like deja vu when he entered the small shop.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Hallie was in line, trying to read the menu to see if they had her signature coconut syrup to put into her latte. She got up super early since it was her first morning practice because she had never been to the training facility before (and would rather die of embarrassment than be late). When she parked, she realized that there was a coffee shop across the way as her saving grace for getting there insanely early.

The coffee shop was adorable. Sage green walls, greenery falling down them, and flowers everywhere. She felt transported back to her hometown coffee shop when she stepped up to order. Feeling a presence behind her, she slowly felt it creeping closer. Starting to tense up, she immediately let her guard down when she smelt the cologne next to her.

"What can I get you both today?" The barista asks as Hallie smiles at them.

"Two iced coconut lattes, please," Luke's voice rings through her ears as she hears the order -- he remembered her order. Hallie nods. "And a cinnamon bun, too," she adds and hears Luke lightly laugh.

"That'll be $12.50," The barista says as Hallie starts to pull out her card.

"Absolutely not, sunshine," Luke mutters near her ear as he reaches around her to pay. His arm curls around her waist to reach the card reader, causing Hallie to try not to melt at the feeling.

The two separate as Luke follows her lead to sit back at the table where she has her stuff. She takes the booth as he takes the chair, the two giving light smiles at each other, comfortable silence engulfing them.

"You remembered," She said, cutting the silence off.

"Remembered what? You? Or the way you take your coffee?" He questioned, a teasing smirk on his face. The answer was cut off short as he got up to get the order, hearing the barista say his name.

"Damn, he's good," She said to herself. She studied him as he walked back. He was wearing a red Devils sweatshirt with his number on the arm, grey sweatpants, and a black backwards hat hiding his curls. He looked good, handsome in her eyes.

"You surprised I remember things about you or something?" Luke asked her as he sat the order down and then himself. She shrugged, "It's been a while since I last saw you, Hughes,"

"Oh low blow, not even Hughesy? No nickname?" He teased as she laughed.

"When were you going to tell me that you not only moved here but work for the NHL?" Luke asked as she took a sip of her iced latte. "I was going to, honestly, I just--" She cut herself off as she felt her phone vibrate.

Trevor: Have you talked with Hughes yet?

Luke's eyes flicker down to her phone. Who the hell is Trevor, and how does he know about him? A hint of jealously resides in him. It goes away when her looks back up at her. His curiosity about Trevor subsided as he really took in her face. She had light freckles on her cheeks, three sets of earrings in her ears that were all gold, and her lips were perfectly arched with liner, making them look so kissable-----

"Sorry, my nosey friend. I was trying to say that I was going to but was afraid you wouldn't remember me, Mr. Big Leagues." She said, snapping him back into the conversation.

He gave her a soft smile. "You were the only person on staff I enjoyed talking to; you were pretty." His sentence stops as she giggles. "Pretty memorable! I mean, you are pretty, but you know what? I am going to stop while I am ahead. I need this caffeine." He says, rambling, then cutting himself off to stop the embarrassment.

"Don't get all shy on me now, Lu," Hallie tells him, nudging his hand with hers. He normally hated that nickname until now. She picks up her fork to cut a piece of the cinnamon roll, plopping it in her mouth.

"So, you work for the Devils specifically now or..." Luke baits, hoping she doesn't have a crazy clause in her contract about dating players if she did work for just the Devils.

"My role is under Emily Kaplan. She's my boss. We work for ESPN and then go kind of wherever the network needs us. I'm currently working with Metro division teams. My time recently has been split between New York and New Jersey. I then write some articles if needed, but it's rare since I’m newer," She explains as he intently listens. He takes in everything: her voice, how she is talking with her hands, how her eyes crinkle up, how animated her expressions are.

“That’s amazing. I’m glad you’re here. I mean, you deserve it after how hard you worked at Umich. But I’m glad that you’re specifically here….” He trails off, stealing a piece of cinnamon bun. “Don’t tell Keefe or Nico I had sweets,” He mumbles as Hallie stirs her coffee.

“Your secrets are safe with me. I— I’m glad that I was memorable for you. You were definitely memorable for me,” She tells him, as he quirks a brow towards her.

“Really? In what way, Sunshine?” He asks, teasingly, hoping to get something more out of her.

“Well your cellys for one. The violin celly is still one of the best ones I’ve ever seen. I remember you running from the media girls all the time like toddler with Duker. The amount of times Gab had to convince me to convince you to answer the damn questions. Speaking of questions, my favorite— the if it could rain anything you wanted, what would it be. You were so sassy in that and I just found it so endearing,” Hallie rambles as Luke cracks a smile.

“I thought those questions were so dumb sometimes. The rain one is true! I would want it to flood everyday so I didn’t have to go to class. I did like the kitchen utensil question — I still think I’d be a machete,” He says, earning a smile from Hallie.

“Luke, you wouldn’t hurt a fly, a machete is very unlike you! Mr. I don’t fight I’m too scared,” She retorted in a different voice, impersonating him as he laughed. “Yeah….. I think I would be like a spoon or something,” He said, them both laughing as he took a sip of coffee.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The pair had caught up for the full 45 minutes before morning skate. Hallie eating most of the cinnamon roll with small slivers left for Luke. It was nice, refreshing even, to catch up. Hallie never lied, she wasn’t very close to him in college, it would be unprofessional.

But, since she technically doesn’t directly work for the Devils…… her mind opens up to the possibility. He was kind. He was the same Luke from almost 3 years ago; genuine, talkative, soft but in a manly way. She didn’t have a crush on him in college (even though she did find him attractive), but right now in this moment — she felt a spark.

“We should go before Amanda thinks you’re late,” Luke tells her as he picks up the plate. Hallie looks up to see him putting away the breakfast silverware and plate, and she stands up to get her stuff and pick up the coffees. It was almost domestic.

She meets him at the door, passing his coffee over to him as he opens the door. She looks back, smiles, “Thank you!” He looked into her honey brown eyes and felt the deja vu all over again from the first time he held the door almost three years ago. “No problem, sunshine.”

They walk to across the street to the arena together. He gave her a mini tour of the practice facility as she took mental notes of where everything was. She’d look up to see Luke looking at her when he spoke, and then she would look away to hide the pink on her cheeks.

“And to finish off the grand tour! This is where the torture… I mean media! happens,” Luke says jokingly as Hallie pokes his side. “Just because it’s torture for you doesn’t mean it’s not work for me!”

She sees Amanda walk up to them as Hallie moves away from him. Hoping it wasn’t noticeable to either of them.

“Hallie! I see that Rusty has shown you around the practice facility?” Amanda says, throwing a wink to Luke as he scratches the back of his neck. “I’m— I’m going to go, see you around, Hal,” He tells the two as Hallie waves him off. Small smile on her face as a new nickname is unlocked for both of them.

“Rusty? I got to know where that came from. But yeah, ran into each other in the parking lot and he wanted to show me around,” Hallie tells her coworker as Amanda leads them to watch practice.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Practice was relatively quick. 2 hours of talking, planning and figuring out the schedule for the upcoming week. It was nice to watch practice again, after a few week hiatus from not being able to watch the Rangers practice due to scheduling problems. She liked the family dynamic the Devils had. It was hard not to let her gaze linger onto his for too long. His skating had always been effortless and she loved to watch it in person. He was calm, collected, calculated on the ice.

Luke could feel her eyes on him while he skated. It gave him motivation to be better. When he walked into the locker room, the single guys talked about her after practice. “So, new reporter huh? She’s hot,” Dawson said, looking to Nico.

Nico, knowing of the little crush Luke had on the reporter from an inside source (JACK), decided to stir the pot. “Oh yeah. She’s gorgeous. Can’t wait for my interview, what about you Luke?” He questioned, and Luke gave a hard glare to the pair.

“She is— a friend. I don’t want her to become locker room talk,” Luke told them, jealousy laced in his voice.

“All right, I respect it. Is she single though?” Dawson asked as they packed up their stuff before heading to media.

Luke thought on his feet, not even thinking through his whole idea, “She’s not.”

Nico smirked, fist bumping Bratt as he passed by. “Oh really?” Luke shrugged, “Yeah, has had a boyfriend since college.” Dawson gave Luke a grin, causing Luke to tilt his head in confusion. “You just outted yourself big time bud, not only are you a bad liar, you are even worse at hiding your feelings. Better ask her out now before someone else does,” The guys laughed as Luke turned as shade of pink at the words.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Good job today Hallie, Nico appreciated your time.” Amanda told her as they walked to their cars. Hallie smiled, “Just doing my job. I’ll see ya on Wednesday? I have to go to MSG tomorrow and then I have Tuesday off before the two games later this week.”

“Sounds good. See you Wednesday!” Amanda says as she goes to her car.

Hallie gets into her car, happy that her first morning skate went smoothly. She pulls out of her spot and starts her drive home. Luke runs out into the garage to try and catch Hallie before she left. The guys made a solid point in the locker room and he needed to make a move, quick. But by the time he got to garage, her car was gone.

Now, he walked to his car. Getting inside and turning the key into the car, the radio played a song that he recognized from his times on the lake.

Springsteen by Eric Church.

He hummed the tune while pulling out of his parking spot to drive back to the apartment. Siri notified the car that Like got a text from Quinn, and read it out loud:

Quinn: Heard sunshine is back in your life… going to do anything about it? Or dance around it like the last time?

That was it, he was going to man up and make a bolder move, as soon as the next time he saw her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

taglist: @dancerbailey3 @hwalllllllelujah @chiblackhawks @cosmichughes

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Stars In My Eyes

(a part two to this fic!)

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness

author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 7.7k

Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.

Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before.  There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him.  There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to.  

And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.”  She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school.  She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.  

But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore.  All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life.  Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.

- 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life.  There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger.  Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.” 

 You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.  

But Eddie…he was very much wow.

After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week.  The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together.  He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom.  Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you. 

“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”

A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.  

You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.  

“I’ll see you later.”

Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom.  There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.  

Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway.  He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand.  The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it.  Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.

But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.  

Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.  

-

There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school.  On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop.  Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.  

There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other.  Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.  

While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly.  You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes.  You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite.  Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again.  You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA.  All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.

Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date?  Was it a date?  Did you say the word date when you asked him?  Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-

Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.

“Yo, Munson.  How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state.  “Dude.”

“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students.  He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.

“What’s goin’ on, Ed?  I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.”  Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.  

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke.  He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.

“If I tell you, it stays between us.”  Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good.  “I’m so dead serious.”

Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger.  “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”

Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.  

“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”

Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.

“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.”  Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.

Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy.  Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships.  Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school.  He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place.  Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party.  Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.  

As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve.  Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.

“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.”  Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you.  “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”

“Dude, Ed.  None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.  

“Okay.  I really like her.  I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever.  We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”

Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.

“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it?  Is it a date?  Should I bring her flowers?  What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”

Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.  

“Woah there, buddy.  No need to get all freaked out about it.”  Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face.  “Let’s just start with the details, okay?  Who asked who?”

“She asked me.  I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”

“Okay, okay man.  Take a deep breath.”  Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.  

“Then let it all out.”  Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer.  “Alright.  So, she asked you?”

Eddie nods.

“That’s good, it means she’s interested!  Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.

“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”

“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”

Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.

“Hmm…okay.  Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”

Eddie thinks back to that moment.  How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.  

He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling.  Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there.  You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.

Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.

“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed.  She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.

“So let me see if I’m getting this straight.  She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there?  For a whole two hours there and back?”

Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.

“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”

Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’

Eddie’s had enough of his edging.  “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”

Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 

“Ed, it’s a date.”

Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same.  The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest.  Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.

-

On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.  

Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.  What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason?  What if he ends up calling you ‘dude’ the entire day?  What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?

You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.

So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.

You made a to-do list. 

Pick out an outfit.  Dress! too fancy…jeans?  Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…

Drink wine 

Watch movie

Clean house…again

Drink more wine

Possibly reconsider outfit…

After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet.  You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love.  You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one. 

-

It was finally Saturday.  Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today.  He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago.  Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.  

He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.  

He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots.  On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.

“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man.  Trust.”

Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways.  Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now.  He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.

After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up.  He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.

-

Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.

Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare.  You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.

You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par.  You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down.  You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.

There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one.  When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman.  Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing.  Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.

You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you.  Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm.  Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man. 

It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself. 

You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds. 

-

Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.  

You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood.  There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color.  Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.  

How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?

Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.

“You got this man.  Be cool.”

He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.

It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.

Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees.  You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs.  He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.

“Hey you.”

“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down.  You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn.  You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…

You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  

“These are for you.  I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.”  Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.  

Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason.  You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.

“Thank you so much, Eddie.  These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals.  “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick.  Come on in!”

You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.

Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home.  He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live.  As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.

Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.”  The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.

You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.

Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?

Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space.  Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room.  There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.

Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10. 

He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.  

It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house.  His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here.  You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.  

The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies.  You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.

“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him.  Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.

Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.

“Seriously?  That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”

You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips.  Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers.  You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.  

He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”

This time, you can’t fight the smile.

You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.

-

Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA.  He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down.  The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.

He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone. 

“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist?  I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.”  Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?

“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically.  “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.”  He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road.  You giggle girlishly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica.  You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.

“Oh, I know this song!”

Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression.  He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type.  Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.  

“What?  A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.

“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.”  You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms.  “But!  I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are!  Girls rule, alright?  Men like…totally suck and stuff.”

You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat.  And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.

When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.

Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.

The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics.  Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.

Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his.  He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.

You totally are.

-

Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom.  You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.

Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom.  He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.  

You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie.  He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.

He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.

You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.

His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island. 

And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.

You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together.  A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk.  He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.

He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store.  As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead.  You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face.  Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures.  The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle.  But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.

He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.

“Oh!  That’s one that I’ve got in my room!”  You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt.  Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.

“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”

You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember.  Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately. 

 No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail.  You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless.  You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease.  The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection.  You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?

Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again.  He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face.  The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are.  But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence.  This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction. 

While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.  

You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face.  His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.

His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours.  Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks?  Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.  You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights.  A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.  

Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better.  He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw.  His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.

His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand.  You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.  

Is he going to kiss you right now?  

In IKEA?

On your first date? 

Is this even a date?  

Do you even want him to kiss you?  Idiot, of course you want him to.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you.  Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’

You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.

It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.

He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.  

“Of course,” he groans.

You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly.  You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.

Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek.  He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.

You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.

“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”

Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him.  Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.

-

Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.  

He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you.  He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.  

He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen.  You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain.  Not as long as you’re happy.   He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.  

Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?

If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand.  You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does.  Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall?  Which side of the bed does he sleep on?  You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.

You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!

You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously.  You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.  

-

Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.  

It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.

Is that…Taylor Swift?

You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.

Eddie’s already staring at you mortified.  He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.

“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism.  Girl’s a wizard with words.”

The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer.  A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t  help but to laugh along with you.

You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.

“I can’t believe it.  The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.”  You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.  

“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up.  As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”

You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course.  How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”

“Right! Yes!”  Eddie exclaims.  “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like.  I respect her, hard.”

You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.

“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully.  “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”

“Of course, my lips are sealed.”  You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.

Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.

“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”

He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness. 

“Which era are you in right now?”

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan.  This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again.  He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.

“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses.  He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.  

“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.

Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.  

You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot.  You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.

As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console.  You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his.  He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.

You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.

-

Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway.  He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.  

You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his.  The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.

“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today.  I had a wonderful time.”

Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.

“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question.  “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”

You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.

“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”

“N-no!  I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”

You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.

“I’d love that.”

Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.  

“Good, that’s really good.”  The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought.  “Um…how’s tomorrow night?  Around 7?”

“Tomorrow night is perfect.”

“Awesome.  Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”

You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.

Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable. 

“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.

He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in.  He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now. 

He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you.  You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards.  Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.  

There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move.  Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot.  It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.  

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.

You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness.  Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.

“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.

Eddie can’t believe that worked.

He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time.  The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.  

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined. 

You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss.  Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss.  It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm.  But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.  

You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life.  This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed.  You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.  

Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him.  The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted.  You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.

You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too.  Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own.  You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more. 

“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.”  He kisses you again.  “Is that okay?”  Another peck.

You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”

“Good.”

Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday.  He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck.  He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.  

You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.

When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.  

TAGLIST:

@josephquinnsfreckles @the-fairy-anon @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites

[cheolaholic]

amourous; lc

summary; You’ve worked hard to escape the shadows of a painful past. But what happens when it resurfaces, threatening the image you tried to build – and the bond you’d built with someone who wasn’t supposed to see the real you?

hybrid au • university au • modern au • fluff, smut, angst

pairing; lee chan x fem! reader | wc; 14.2k | rating; 18+ explicit nsfw

contains; wolf hybrid! chan, human(?) reader, performance unit focused, wolf hybrid! hoshi, wolf hybrid! minghao, human! jun, jun has a wolf gf in this fic, possessive chan, performance unit performs in public, hoshi is kinda ooc (bro is a bit too calm/cool than usual + a bit mean), halloween party organised by SVT

mature/trigger warnings; anxiety/panic attack, mentions of cheating, mentions of bullying, trauma resurfacing, discussion of hybrid stigmas, discrimination/prejudice, the group has a fight at some point (but they do make up), mentions of hazing, dom! chan, sub! reader, scenting, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, doggy-style, tail-play (?), praise kink from both parties

petnames; his (Channie, Wolfie), hers (Baby, Foxy, Pretty Fox)

a/n; hope yall enjoy this fluff and lighter themed fic after the semi dark themes in bty lmao 🥴 i'm really sorry that there was no teaser/trailer and that this fic was overdue – work was hammering me and i was lowkey just tryna survive and catch up on sleep (sis was running on a min of 3-4 hrs of sleep rip) also, ik this is like kinda in the theme of halloween, but i can’t wait five months to post this solely bcs it’s been in the backlogs for at least two years lmao (the idea manifested the same time as ROL)

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Your peers considered you to be a reserved person, quiet and usually kept to yourself. You were quite, for lack of a better word - picky, with your social circle. Not to mention, you were always on high alert with your surroundings, especially if you were in a new environment.

Walking through the hallway of Pledis Private High, your new high school had your anxiety peaking. You held your tears back as you timidly but hurriedly made your way to your classroom. You took a seat at the back of the class, close to the backdoor as you could just exit immediately without any trouble.

“Before we start, we do have a new student who has joined us for the school year!” the teacher announced, gesturing towards you. You felt your heart in your throat as all eyes fell on you while you stood up, feeling the room closing in on you. “Could you introduce yourself, dear?”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, “___, my name is Choi ___.”

When the lunch bell rang, you snuck out through the back door and towards the cafeteria. Sitting at an empty table near a corner, you quietly enjoyed your lunch until a trio approached you, peaking your anxiety as you looked up from your food to look at them.

Two boys - one blonde, one dark haired; and a girl with orange hair.

The girl reached out her hand, a vibrant smile on her face. “Hi, ___, right?” she reached out her hand, “I’m Yejin, Kang Yejin. The blonde haired is Junhui, while the dark haired boy is Chan.” When you turned your focus to the boys, Junhui gave you a small smile while Chan gave you a nod.

“We’re friends of Chan, but we’re a grade above.” Junhui said, “Chan mentioned you’re new to the school, he’s your deskmate.” Your eyes darted to Chan who had a small blush on his face as he sheepishly rubbed his nape, “You didn’t notice me taking a seat next to you earlier… And… before I could try and talk to you, you were already out of the classroom…”

“Chan’s a little shy, but he’s a sweetheart,” Yejin stated as she popped a grape into her mouth, “You’re in safe hands with him around.”

You spent the rest of your lunch break with the trio, quietly observing them. You’ve learnt that Junhui and Yejin are dating, Chan is a dancer and seemingly has a personality that’s similar to yours - at least that’s what you’ve gotten from the 20 minutes of interaction with them. As the bell rang and you were about to head back to class with Chan, Yejin called out to you.

“Out of curiosity, what kind of hybrid are you?”

Junhui nudged his girlfriend, shooting her a disapproving look. “What? You can’t tell me you aren’t curious!”

“Yejin, you just met her!” he hissed, “You shouldn’t be asking these questions!”

Before the bickering could continue, you rushed out your answer, “Human.” As the trio shifted their focus onto you once again, you took a steadying breath and repeated yourself.

“I’m a human.”

Three years since that day, you’ve seamlessly integrated into the trio, now a quartet.

You even find yourself attending the same university as them. When Yejin and Junhui graduated, you vaguely remember Chan mentioning Junhui had gone back to ShenZhen for a year to see his family and did his Foundation Studies there while Yejin did hers in Attacca University.

Once you and Chan had graduated high school, you both enrolled into Attacca University for your Foundation Studies of your respective courses - you pursuing Language Studies while Chan pursued Sociology. You were glad to be enrolled into a university with the trio, at least there were familiar faces - easing your anxiety.

“.....hear me? ___!”

Snapping out of your trance-like state, you looked up to see Yejin and her boyfriend, Junhui, standing in front of you with worried looks.

Letting out a confused ‘huh?’, you watch how Yejin’s eyebrows furrowed. “I've been trying to get your attention for the past ten minutes, ___. Are you okay? Did something happen before we got here?”

You shook your head, giving her an assuring smile as she sat next to you. Junhui quietly took a seat across from both of you, texting away on his phone as his girl continued to question you. 

“Are you sure? You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“I promise, I’m fine, Yejin.”

While still unconvinced, she stops her questioning and redirects it towards her boyfriend. Junhui had flown back to Korea to resume his degree in Business; coincidentally ending up in the same course with Yejin. Chan had pointed out how the couple were attached to the hip and were so inseparable that even the universe decided to put them in the same university, in the same study course.

Though, you do admit – Yejin and Junhui were essentially textbook couple goals.

“Who’re you texting, Junnie?”

“Chan.” he answered, “Just asking if he’s finished with his class and if he’ll be joining us for lunch.”

“Is he coming?” you asked curiously, the couple looking at you as a knowing smile spread on their lips. A blush formed on your cheeks as you tried to avoid making eye contact, attempting to stutter out a response but failing. Within the years of friendship you had with the trio, you had somehow developed a small (read: massive) crush on Chan. Though you had managed to keep in under wraps from the majority of your peers, had they been as observant as Yejin, they would’ve noticed the subtle signs.

In fact, it had been Yejin who got you to realise your feelings for the wolf hybrid. She noticed the faint blush that would dust your cheeks when Chan would get too close or help you with a task, how only Chan was allowed to refer to you by a certain nickname (which has led to you only responding to him when he calls you said nickname), the extra decorations on his pastries when you’d bake for them - she noticed it all. When she had initially brought up the topic, you heavily denied it.

“I don’t see Chan that way, I swear!” you exclaimed, “It’s just- I just-”

Yejin placed both hands on your shoulders, attempting to calm you down. “___, dear, please take a deep breath. I’m not saying it’s a fact, okay? I’m just… suggesting that you might, based on what I’ve noticed.”

Junhui approached with a cardboard cup holder tray, passing you a drink as he sat next to you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to believe it. Maybe you haven’t fully processed everything yet, but from what Yejin’s told me, I think there may be a chance you fancy Chan.” You whined, burying your face in your hands as your face burnt bright red from embarrassment.

“At the end of the day, it’s your feelings and I’m just making a hypothesis based on my observation.”

“And if you set aside the whole… rut and aggression stigma, Chan’s a gentleman and always looks out for those he cares for. You’re no exception, too.”

Junhui gives you a teasing smile and before he could reply, Chan was standing at the end of the table with two other male students. “Hi, gang!” he greeted in an excited tone, gesturing to the two, “Meet Soonyoung and Minghao! They’re friends I made from the dance club, and we’re actually coursemates! Can you believe that?”

You watch how Yejin’s nose twitched slightly at Soonyoung and Minghao’s presence, “Are you both wolves?”

“Yejin!”

“They smell like wolves!”

The table watches as Junhui’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as he asks, “They smell like wolves?” Yejin later explained how each hybrid has a distinctive smell, making it easy to identify the different species of hybrids. “So… let’s say there are two different cat hybrids in the room,” Junhui hypothesised, “One’s a Siamese, the other is a Maine Coon, can you tell the difference?”

“Okay, I don’t know about differentiating two breeds of the same animals,” Yejin replied, “but, if you put a human and a wolf, two wolves and a cat, or even just two humans in a room, any hybrid would be able to tell.”

“Not all hybrids.” Minghao chimed in, “While any hybrids can differentiate the smell of a human and a hybrid, only some can differentiate the smell of two hybrids of the same breed.”

Chan felt the seat he was sitting on slightly shake. When he looked down, he noticed your leg bouncing – something he’s come to realise was what you’d often do when you’re feeling anxious. Placing a hand on your thigh, he watches as you tensed up, your head turned towards him with a panicked look.

“You okay, ___?” he asks, the group focusing their attention onto you. “I-I’m fine,” you forced out, “Just… Just feeling a little stuffed. I’m gonna go and get some fresh air.”

“I’ll come with you.” Yejin offered, getting up from her seat and you rushed out a quick “No!”, startling her.

“I… I just want to be on my own for now… I’ll… I’ll see you all at the end of the school day, okay?” Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you got out of the cafeteria as quickly as you could, feeling even more uneasy when you could feel eyes following you.

“Did we… did we scare her…?” Minghao asked, looking at Chan who shrugged. “I hope not,” Yejin said, “I still remember the first time the three of us met and talked to her. Poor girl looked like she was about to cry.”

“She is a human, right?” Soonyoung asked, turning to the female wolf. When Yejin nods, the blonde haired wolf asks again, “But, she has an odd scent… I don’t think I’ve met any humans that smell like that.”

“Well, ___ hangs out with the three of us a lot. And since Chan and I are wolves, alongside the other students she could have to interact with throughout the day, maybe the scent got mixed up.”

Soonyoung considers Yejin’s explanation for a moment before nodding his head, accepting it. However, there’s a voice in his head that’s nagging at him – telling him the human who had just left isn’t who she presents herself to be.

Over the next few months, the boys had gotten closer thanks to their shared passion for dancing.

Junhui’s dance style was more towards contempt, similar to Minghao but you could see some elements of b-boying, which when asked out of curiosity, he confirmed that he indeed has a background in b-boy. On the other hand, Soonyoung and Chan shared a similar dance style of hip-hop and urban.

You’ve never seen them perform, possibly because they are yet to perform as a group of four. Junhui and Minghao were the first to perform – signing up for the Attacca’s International Cultural Night, and their performance had blown everyone away. With the help of Jihoon, one of Junhui’s classmates, the trio had successfully produced a song titled ‘My I’. And after a week of brainstorming, the duo had managed to self-choreo a contemporary style dance for the song.

You remember witnessing the performance for the very first time.

A day prior to said Cultural Night, the duo had practically begged your group to attend the event and support their performance.

“So, you’ve been stealing my boyfriend for a performance and not even bothering to tell us until the very last minute?” Yejin asked, arms crossed as she’s sat on the couch of hers and Junhui’s shared apartment. To outsiders, they might think she’s mad but to the group, at least except Junhui and Minghao at the moment, she’s just teasing.

“Baby, please, I’m so sorry for hiding this from you,” Junhui pleaded, kneeling in front of his girlfriend and looking up at her with puppy eyes. “We wanted to tell you all a few days ago but Minghao had a test, I had a big presentation – and it just slipped our mind!”

You can’t help but giggle at the memory.

“Thought of something funny?” Chan asks, taking a seat next to you on the picnic mat Yejin and Soonyoung managed to secure that was provided by the event (it was also a front row seat to the stage, a better view to spectate the duo). A faint blush paints across your cheeks as you answered, “Just remembering how they told us they’d be performing.”

The wolf chuckles as he recalls the memory, “Yea, I’ve never seen Junhui and Minghao hyung look that scared.”

“Have you ever thought of performing on stage?”

Chan looked taken aback by your question, as if he wasn’t expecting you to have any interest in his hobbies since not many people have asked him anything about his own life. “Well… I had performed in the past – middle school, before you joined Pledis. Every school event, Junhui hyung and I would always perform and everyone called us ‘The Dance Bros’ back then. We kind of went on a hiatus of some sorts when Junhui hyung started high school and wanted to focus more on his studies.” “Did you continue performing?‘

“I may like the solo spotlight, but I still prefer having company if I were to go on stage. When hyung said he wanted to focus more on his studies, I decided to do the same.”

“Some people don’t take Chan seriously with his studies because of his passion for dance.” Yejin chimed in, “Sometimes, they even tell him dancing doesn’t really secure him a future. But, our little wolf boy never let that stop him from occasionally picking up dance gigs.”

“Dance gigs?” Soonyoung, who has been quiet all this while, finally speaks up upon hearing the revelation. You were equally curious, looking at Chan expectantly.

There was a sheepish smile on Chan’s face, “Well… the gigs were just me as a backup dancer, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

Soonyoung leaned in, causing Yejin to lean back a little as she’s sat in between them, his curiosity piqued. “Tell me more about these dance gigs.”

“Guys!” Chan exclaims as he runs up the stairs of Attacca’s football field. “Guys!”

Minghao wanted some peace and quiet; coincidentally, you also needed some peace after the morning you had. Your lecturer had decided to have some kind of Pre-Halloween celebration (it was the middle of September) and after an entire morning of loud noises, you’ve had enough.

So, when Minghao suggested the group just relax and eat lunch at the bleachers of the football field, you gladly took his side.

As Chan ran up the bleachers, Junhui can’t help but chuckle. “He gets any more excited and his tails and ears are gonna pop out.”

“That’s happened before?” Minghao asks.

“According to him, not as often as it did in primary school,” you replied, “He’s managed to get in under control, but tell him exciting news or something extremely good happens, out poofs his ears and tail.”

“Should’ve seen him when he found out you were accepted into Attacca,” Yejin teases, nudging your sides, “I have never seen his tail wag so… violently? Happily? Whatever the term is, his tail was wagging and he was happy.”

“Happy is an understatement,” Junhui adds, “He was over the moon.”

You blush, patting your cheeks in an effort to get rid of the redness as Chan reaches the row you were all sat in. “What’s up, Channie?”

The wolf pants, “Seungcheol wants us to join the SVT Frat and we got a busking offer!”

A moment of silence.

“I’m sorry, but could you repeat that?” Minghao asks, “You said it in one breath and so quick that I only heard Seungcheol’s name.”

You guide Chan to take a seat on the row in front of the group, letting him catch his breath. You hand him your water bottle which he happily accepts, taking a large gulp and wiping his mouth. “Seungcheol wants us to join his frat,” he says after catching his breath, his voice still slightly strained. He hands the water bottle back to you with a sheepish grin.

“Seungcheol? The president of the SVT Frat House?” Minghao recalls.

You’re not one to join a fraternity or sorority so your first question was, “What is that and what does SVT stand for?”

Junhui shrugs, “I think you know what frat houses are. Think sorority sisters but for guys where depending on the guy in charge, they’re either cool guys or… drunkards and druggies. SVT is more on the cool guys spectrum, think big seasonal parties or smaller pool parties.”

“As for what they stand for, according to what’s being said, it’s apparently Sigma Vitae Triumphalis. A Latin-inspired phrase for Sum of Life and Triumph.”

Yejin raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in her seat. “Since when do they recruit mid-semester?”

Chan shrugs, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “Beats me. But he said Jihoon recommended us and something about needing more members, how he’s been keeping tabs on us for the past… two months? Plus, you know how popular their parties are. It might not be the worst idea to check it out.”

You give him a skeptical look. “Are you considering it?”

He hesitates, keeping his gaze on you. “I mean, I don’t know… It’s not every day we get offered into a frat house like SVT. Could be a good opportunity, right? Connections, parties, networking…”

“Correction, you boys get offered into a frat house like SVT,” Yejin snorts, “I’m not into the whole sorority sisters thing and ___ there has social anxiety. We avoid that shit like the plague.”

“There… There won’t be any kind of hazing, right? I heard that frats from NeoCity University…”

“Oh yeah, I know what you’re talking about,” Soonyoung joins in, grimacing at the memory, “The 20XX NEOCITIZEN Hazing Incident.”

You wince at the mention of that incident. While you weren’t apart or knew anyone that were involved, you would consider yourself an empathetic person to some degree. The frat house that was involved weren’t disclosed, but a quick mention of the victims and what they’ve endured were quick to reveal it was the ANOM House.

Two humans suffered from alcohol poisoning, having digested a concoction that police suspected to have at least ten different types of alcohol; and a cat hybrid was forced into a ‘Mountain Dew Baptism’ as his pledge.

The worst part was when investigators announced that the frat seniors had multiple chat rooms where they would upload photos of the newcomers blindfolded and completely nude. 

A shiver goes down your spine as you recall the news, deciding to push it back down before unwanted images or your imaginations think of something similar happening to your friends.

Minghao was the one who tried to ease everyone’s minds, “They don’t do or condone hazing, at least that’s what I’ve heard from Jihoon. They’re pretty selective of who they let in, usually depending on connections and like Chan said, recommendations and some tab keeping.”

He goes on about how the boys in SVT were good people to some degree, saying how one guy named Jeonghan may look sweet and is like an Angel; but he sure as hell knew how to cheat when it comes to playing games. “Wonwoo and Mingyu look like they’re best friends, but they’re practically dating each other and a girl from Wonwoo’s class. Polygamy, if you may.”

You turn back to Chan, who’s surprisingly looking at you with puppy-like eyes, “Why are you giving me that look? You should be giving it to the boys, not me.”

“I dunno…” he mutters, “It feels right.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks flushing at the answer. “How about we hear him out first? See if it’s the real deal and make sure they aren’t secretly trying to haze you guys.”

“Deal.” Chan grins, already looking more optimistic. “Let’s just hope they’re not expecting us to pledge by chugging a gallon of milk or something.”

The group laughs, Junhui shrugging, “I dunno man… They had Jihoon drink that twenty ounce bottle of Coke Zero as his pledge.”

“I mean, the man has a strange obsession with Coke Zero so it’s no problem for him,” Minghao adds, “Remember that mini fridge he had in his room when we visited? I opened it and it was filled to the brim with Coke Zero.”

You turn your head back to Chan, “Hey, didn’t you also mention something about a busking gig?”

“Oh yeah! The gig!” Chan’s wolf ears popped right out of his head, a large grin on his face. “We got an offer for a busking gig!”

Chan was nervous.

You could practically smell it on him.

The boys took close to three weeks to practice their routine, Soonyoung wanting everything to be levelled and in sync for a more smooth or perfect performance. Chan had come to you for comfort several times, his entire body worn out whenever Soonyoung wanted to repeat a certain move or when he made them repeat the entire choreography with little to no breaks in between.

“___…” Chan mumbled, plopping into your arms the moment you were within reach. He didn’t even care that his ears and tail were out on display. “I’m so… tired…”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around him and giving him some back rubs. His tail slowly wagged behind him, “My body aches, ___…”

“Well, that’s a small price to pay for landing a big gig. You guys must’ve made quite the impression on the SVT Frat,” you responded. “Getting recommended to the frat house president and a talent manager? I’m so proud of you, Channie.”

His tail wags faster. “Thanks…” he mumbles as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent; an action that causes you to shiver. “You’ll… You’ll come watch, right..?”

You run a hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. A low, rumbling noise from his throat, concerning you just a little because you thought he’d wag his tail off with the speed it was at. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Y’know, if you don’t calm your balls down,” Yejin speaks up, holding up a fan to Junhui’s face, “You’re gonna end up drenching that outfit and it will not look good.”

“Hey, this is the first time we’re busking for a talent scout!” Chan snaps, sending Yejin a glare only to immediately shrink back when the older wolf shoots him a sharp and unimpressed look. He looked down and muttered, “Sorry.” only for you to tilt it back up so you could pat down the last bit of setting powder along the sharp line of his jaw.

You notice the way his ears tint red – whether from heat or embarrassment, you aren’t so sure. Junhui groans, tugging at the white choker around his neck. “Soonyoung, explain again why we look like emo Angels?”

“It’s for the aesthetics, Jun,” he replies, flashing peace signs at an imaginary camera that was behind the taller male. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Minghao scoffs, the fabric of his tunic swishing dramatically as he shifts his weight. “We look like we walked out of an early 2010s Tumblr moodboard titled ‘Sad Celestial Beings Who Listen to Fall Out Boy on Loop’.”

Chan snorts, clearing his throat when he realises it almost smeared the lipstick you were putting on him.

“Honestly,” Yejin says, “Hao’s not wrong. All y’all are missing is a grayscale filter and an unnecessary Latin quote about lost souls.”

Soonyoung pulls out his phone, a big smile on his lips, “Give me five minutes. I can totally make that happen.”

“But, seriously Yejin, how the hell are you not melting?” Chan asks while you carefully pat at the sweat beading along his forehead with a tissue. “You’re like… Jade from Victorious or something? Are you blessed with some kind of internal ice box?”

Yejin rolls her eyes, “It’s called antiperspirant.”

The younger wolf moves to argue back, but you’re quick to grab his jaw before he can do so. You hold up the eyeliner, narrowing your eyes at him, “Don’t move, Romeo, or I will stab you in the eye with this.”

He freezes instantly, wide-eyed, as if you’d just threatened him with a loaded gun instead of a makeup product. He blinks before giving you a sheepish grin, “Right… Statue mode… Got it.”

You shake your head with a soft laugh. “You’re lucky I’m patient,” you mutter, carefully drawing on his eyeliner. “More like I’m lucky I’m cute,” he whispers, earning himself a small pinch to his sides once you were done with his eyeliner – followed by a very undignified yelp.

“Once you’re both done flirting, we got a busking performance to do,” Soonyoung calls out, his voice dripping with exaggerated impatience. You don’t glance up as you cap the eyeliner with a decisive click, “We’re multi-tasking, Soonyoung.”

Chan sticks his tongue out at the blonde before turning to you with a grin that’s half mischief, half gratitude. “Thanks, makeup fairy,” he says, voice low and teasing.

You snort, setting the eyeliner back into the makeup bag. “Call me that again I’ll make sure your eyeliner on both sides are even.”

He’s quick to shut up, hands flying to his face protectively in a dramatic manner, making you laugh harder than you mean to.

“Alright, alright,” Yejin claps her hands, gesturing to the area that’s been sectioned off just for the group’s performance. “Go impress that talent scout with your dances, and maybe not scare some kids.”

You sat right behind the speaker as the boys began to perform, the energy buzzing through the air. Beside you, Yejin carefully holds up Junhui’s phone, recording a fancam of her boyfriend with the concentration of someone defusing a bomb.

“You’re not helping Chan film his?” she questions, glancing at you briefly.

You casually point toward Seungcheol who’s standing not too far away, phone in hand and already filming Chan’s every move with the intensity of a proud father at his son’s first school recital.

“Damn,” Yejin chuckles, “Chan’s already his favourite, huh?”

“From what I heard from Channie, he gets teased a lot, but they still look out for him.”

Yejin smiles softly, returning her focus to recording Junhui. “Well, the SVT frat is like that. Bite and bark at each other one second, then defend each other like their lives depend on it the next.”

You hum in agreement, shifting slightly to make yourself more comfortable. “Guess that’s just how wolves are, huh? Family first… even if they drive you insane half the time.”

“I heard from Junhui that he’s not the only human,” she adds, her fingers still steady on the recording. “There’s these two boys, Jeonghan and Vernon, they’re humans too. And the wolves are super protective over their human frat brothers.”

Your ears perked up, “Really? I thought most humans and hybrids don’t mix well. Stigmas and whatnot.”

“Yeah, but if you give them a chance, you’ll see it’s not that bad. Take me and Junhui for example.”

You snort, “You two are like, stupidly good together. He looks at you like you’re the only person on the planet.”

Yejin rolls her eyes, her cheeks warming slightly. “Yeah, well, sometimes he looks at me like he’s plotting to steal all my fries too.”

You both laugh.

“But, yeah, you could say we’re both proof that hybrids and humans can work out. Coexist in harmony. It may not be easy, but if both parties respect each other, I’d say it’s definitely worth the ups and downs.”

“Seungcheol said their fraternity is… different. Like, once you’re in, you’re family. No questions asked.”

“Oh, speaking of Jeonghan and Vernon, I heard they’re protective over their wolf brothers too!”

Yejin raises an eyebrow, urging you to continue. “I heard from Chan that Vernon once decked a guy for saying his wolf friends aren’t welcome in the cafeteria during a rainy day because they ‘smelled like wet dogs’.”

“Jeonghan?”

“Apparently one of the students on our campus was involved with the NEOCITIZEN hazing incident. Jeonghan posted an exposé document of it with receipts and everything. I guess you can say he’s more of a…’I will ruin your life with a smile’ type of guy.”

Yejin lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Humans with wolf instincts. That’s terrifying."

“Yeap, but not as interesting as that.” You lift up your phone, capturing a few shots – not of the boys’ performance, but of Seungcheol mouthing every lyric, completely unaware. Yejin leans over slightly, whispering behind her hand, “At this point, we should just get him a varsity jacket that says President.”

You stifle a laugh. "He'd wear it. Proudly."

The busking performance wrapped up as the last notes of the song drifted into the warm evening air. The boys bowed dramatically, thanking the small crowd that had gathered, while you, Yejin and Seungcheol cheered from the sidelines like proud, mildly embarrassing parents.

It wasn’t long before someone suggested food and because all five men were made up of mostly bottomless pits disguised as people, everyone agreed.

“___, you wanna take the aisle seat?” Chan asks as everyone takes their seat at the corner booth of a cozy Italian restaurant. You blink, a confused look on your face. “Why?”

He shrugs with a small smile, “Figured you don’t like cramped spaces. You’re always on the outer seat of class or at the back where there’s more space.”

His voice is light, but there’s a warmth to his words that makes your heart flutter. You hadn’t expected him to notice that behaviour of yours. It may feel like a small gesture, but it was one that made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t felt nor expected.

Plates of pasta, pizza and baskets of bread covered almost every inch of space, the scent of garlic and tomato sauce filling the air.

Junhui was stealing bites from Yejin’s plate despite her swatting at him with a fork. Seungcheol was dramatically telling a story with hand gestures that nearly knocked over his glass of iced tea. Soonyoung and Minghao were locked in a serious debate over the best pasta sauce. And Chan was just happily demolishing a mountain of beef bolognese pasta as though he was trying to regain the energy he’d spent the past few weeks preparing for the performance.

You smile to yourself, twirling another spoonful of carbonara as you enjoy the warm chaos around you. The clicking of silverware, the laughter, and the occasional playful argument all blended together into a symphony of comfort.

This was like a dream come true.

For the first time, you were actually happy to be surrounded by others.

As the night winds down and everyone starts to slip into a comfortable haze only good food and company can bring, Chan leans forward. “Hey,” his voice was a little softer, like he didn’t want the others to hear. “Do you need a ride back?”

His offer catches you by surprise, “O-Oh… I was just gonna call a cab, actually…”

He’s quick to offer you a ride, “I-I can drive you back! It’s on my way home, plus it’s getting late. It’d be safer too.”

A small, shy smile tugs at your lips. “Are you sure? If it’s a hassle–”

Chan shakes his head so quickly it causes a few strands of his hair to fall into his eyes. “You’re not,” he says firmly, his voice a little softer. “Really, I want to do this. Let me drive you back, ___.”

Your heart does that little flutter again, and you find yourself nodding before your brain can overthink it. “Okay… Thanks, Chan.”

He grins, cheeks a little pink as he finally remembers the fork in his hand and dives back into his bolognese with renewed enthusiasm, like just asking you had taken more energy than he’d thought.

The drive back to your apartment was peaceful, the streets mostly empty as the city settles into a quieter rhythm. Chan kept the conversation flowing almost non-stop, talking about everything from the production of the song with Jihoon to a funny story about how Dokyeom, another wolf in the fraternity, accidentally put salt instead of sugar into a batch of cookies.

You listened, amused at how the considerably shy wolf is yapping. You can’t help but notice how… he was more animated than usual. His grip on the steering wheel was a little tighter than necessary, and he was tapping his fingers along the leather in a restless rhythm. Finally, as he launches into a ramble about how he should probably start learning how to cook properly, “I can’t just live on instant noodles forever, right? Even wolves need proper nutrition or whatever it is that–”

“Chan.” You interrupted him gently, “Are you okay? You’re… yapping a lot tonight.”

“Am not!” he blurts out immediately, voice cracking just a little.

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow, and he let out a helpless laugh, shrugging his shoulders a little. “Okay. Maybe I am,” he admits, eyes still fixed on the road. His voice drops to something softer, returning to that shy Chan you know, “It’s just… I kinda over-talk when I’m nervous. I can’t really help it.”

You turned fully towards him, curiosity piqued. “Nervous?” you repeated, “Why are you nervous, Channie?”

He almost chokes at the nickname, feeling the blood rush lower and he hoped to every god out there that you hadn’t noticed the way his thighs tensed, how he was about to have a half hard-on.

The car slowed as he pulled up to a red light, the glow casting a soft, almost intimate light over Chan’s face. He finally turns to look at you fully, his eyes struggling to make eye contact with you. With a deep breath, he answers, “Because I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I like you. Like, I like like you.”

The light turns green, but neither of you move, suspended in that breathless second (thank God there were no cars behind, else you’d be faced with multiple angry drivers). Chan scrambled to keep talking, panicked by the silence. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same! I just– I didn’t want to keep pretending that it’s just… platonic for me. Because I really do see you more than a friend. You’re an amazing person. Sweet. And you make the worst day feel like nothing, and I just–”

You interrupt him by laughing quietly, “Chan.” You reach out to place a hand over his on the console, and he shuts up, eyes wide like you’d just physically stunned him. You smiled, heart thudding in your chest as you confessed your little crush on him, “I like you too.”

The only sound in the car was Chan’s stunned inhale, then he blinked. Finally, the biggest, most radiant grin spreads across his face, pure joy lighting him up brother than the sun in the day.

“Really?” he breathed.

“Really,” you reassured, laughing a little and motioned to the green light. “Now maybe drive before any cars show up behind us and try not to crash from excitement.”

Chan lets out a shaky laugh, nodding frantically as he drives the car forward again. Throughout the remainder of the drive, he can’t stop himself from sneaking glances at you, like he couldn’t believe that you reciprocate his feelings.

Pulling up in front of your apartment building, he shifts the gears into park but makes no move to unlock the doors just yet. Instead, he sits there for a second, drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

“What’s up, wolfie?” you teased, an amused look on your face.

He hesitates for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip like he was holding back the words. Then, he finally blurts it out, “Would you, um– would you wanna go on a real date with me tomorrow?”

The way he rushed it out all at once had you giggling. “You… You deserve to be asked out properly and well, if I were to ask you to let me be your boyfriend, I would want it done right. I could come pick you and we could… Get coffee? Brunch? DInner? All of the above. Whatever it is that you want.”

You laughed, warmth blooming in your chest at the sheer nervous hope in his voice. “I’d love that, Channie.”

Chan’s body relaxes, but only slightly. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Totally chill about this. Not freaking out or anything.”

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, “Text me when you’re here, okay? I’ll be ready by then.”

Before you left the car, you leaned over the console and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. The wolf froze, eyes wide and stunned – but the slow, bright smile that followed was enough to make your cheeks burn too.

“Nighty night, Chan,” you said, slipping out of the car with a giggle and a wave.

He stays frozen for a second longer, fingers lightly brushing against the spot where you kissed him. He calls out to you after with a huge, beaming grin, “Night, ___! Sleep well and dream about me!”

Attacca announced that for the week of Halloween, all classes would be suspended after 5pm, citing “seasonal engagement and student well-being” as the official reason on the letters and emails they sent out. But everyone knew what it really meant.

Halloween at Attacca wasn't just a holiday – it was a tradition. A week-long carnival of curated (but mindful) chaos, underground dares, and elaborate, unsanctioned events that blurred the lines between myth and reality. The staff pretend to discourage it, the administration feigned ignorance. But every year, as the leaves of October fell, the campus came alive in a way no syllabus could prepare the freshmen or you for.

On Monday night, the lampposts flickered with orange lights that weren’t there before. The usual LEDs were replaced with vintage bulbs that cast long, warped shadows across the quad. At exactly 11:11pm, the fountain in the center of campus would dispense black water and dry ice smoke. Scattered across campus were boxes labeled, ‘OPEN ME IF YOU DARE’.

Masks appeared in each on-campus dorm room on Wednesday. They were hand-carved, and the students suspected it to be the work of the uni’s drama teacher – Baek Jongho. He always did have a flare for the dramatics.

The masks were antique-looking, each one came with different designs. Some had feathers, others had horns. A few were grotesquely beautiful, almost… sentient. Whether or not they were meant to be worn, the masks certainly had students locking their doors afterwards. Even the usual campus troublemakers kept their heads down.

Then came Thursday, where the air shifted.

Literally.

Attacca’s main hall smelled of old wood and spices – you figured it’s a mix of clove and cinnamon. Students began preparing for the climax of the week: the Halloween Parties organised by each frat house. They all had different themes, it’s what made Attacca Halloween Parties so special.

BANGTAN was known for masquerade balls.

XLOV was known for their drag shows.

And, SVT? The wildest costume party you’ll ever attend.

The scent of takeout lingers in the air – fried chicken, tteokbokki, and kimchi fried rice. You’re curled up on the couch, Chan’s hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, idly scrolling your phone while Chan argues with Junhui about whether vampires or werewolves would win in a dance battle. You cuddle closer to your wolf, already feeling the cold autumn air – that or because they had the air conditioner turned on.

Soonyoung lounges across the arm of the opposite sofa, legs dangling as he sips on his coca-cola. “By the way, what are y’all wearing to the party tomorrow night?”

You blink. “What party?”

Yejin gasps like you’ve just taken the last piece of fries from her. “The Halloween party SVT is throwing! Y’know, the one that got shut down by campus security because Mingyu set off the smoke machine too close to the fire alarm.”

Minghao snorts, scooping up a spoonful of kimchi fried rice. “Yeah, and that was before they could unveil the haunted basement.”

“Aren’t SVT parties invite only?” you ask, setting your phone down. “I didn’t get an invitation so–”

“___, you’re Chan’s girlfriend,” Junhui points out. “You’re practically invited by just being his girl.”

You glance at your boyfriend, who only shrugs with a sheepish smile. “I just assumed you’d come with me.”

“Romantic,” you deadpan.

Chan is quick to scoot closer, wrapping both arms around your waist while giving you those puppy eyes; hoping that it’ll keep you from escaping the conversation. “Come on, baby~” his voice low and coaxing, “Just this once? Please? I’ll make it worth it.”

You raise a brow, “That sounds vaguely threatening.”

“I mean it,” he insists. “Tell you what, baby? You can pick any couple’s costume. Literally anything. I’ll wear ears, if they aren’t wolf ears – crown, body paint, a crop top – name it; I’m in.”

You shift to get a better look at him, “So if I asked you to wear a full-body suit?”

“If it gets you to come to the party, I’ll be a banana. I’ll be the peel if you want. I’ll even let Minghao film it!”

“Wow, you are whipped.”

“Hello?” Chan leans his cheek against yours, “Have you seen my girl? She’s gorgeous and a fucking baddie! I’d be damned if I weren’t whipped for her!”

Soonyung narrows his eyes, “Not bad for a human. Usually it’s foxes that have these kinds of effects – no matter on hybrids or humans.”

His words caused you to shift, like it made you uncomfortable.

Chan waves it off dismissively, “Hyung, enough of that. We don’t need to hear about you and your ex for the nth time.” Returning his attention to you, he pleads once again. “Baby, please~ I really wanna go with you. It’s more fun when you’re there and well, I wanna show off my girl.”

Your stomach does that annoying little flutter thing it always does whenever your boyfriend goes from clown to Prince Charming in a matter of seconds. Yejin makes a gagging noise, acting as though she hadn’t planned a matching costume with Junhui too. “Disgustingly sweet. I love it. Say yes.”

You sigh, giving Chan a dramatic side-eye. “Fine. But if I go, we’re doing my costume idea and you cannot leave me to fend for myself. You know how I am with crowds…”

“Deal,” he nuzzles his face into your neck almost immediately. “Thank you, and I love you. I’ll be the hottest… Mario or the shiniest disco ball you’ve ever seen!”

The bass from the frat house speakers is already making the floorboards vibrate, but none of that matters at the moment. Chan has you pressed up against the walls of his room, your hands flat against the wood as your boyfriend looms behind you, his warm breath brushing against the curve of your neck. His arms cages you in, one hand resting just above your head, the other firm on your him, thumb brushing the edge of the red satin.

“Chan,” you whisper, half-giggling, half-breathless, “We’re gonna be late–”

“Don’t care,” he mutters, nose trailing along your jaw. “They can start the party without us.”

His tail sways behind him, ears twitching every time you shift to press yourself back against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, his scent thick and lazy in the air – musky, familiar, and distinctively him. It curls around your senses until you’re practically drowning in it.

“Pretty baby smells so fucking good,” he murmurs, nuzzling behind your ear, his voice low and raspy. “You wore this just to drive me insane, don’t you?”

You roll your eyes, though the way your heart hammers against your chest betrays you. “It’s just Red Riding Hood, Channie… It’s not lingerie…”

The laugh he lets out were equal parts soft and dark. “Could’ve fooled me. Look at you…”

His nose brushes the base of your neck, then his tongue darts out to slowly lick up, stopping right where scent gland pulses. You shudder. He doesn’t bite, it’s not like he’s marking you but it’s close enough. He switches between nipping at the skin of your neck and his licking it, letting his scent seep into your skin, into your clothes – deep enough that every single hybrid in that will be in the frat house knows who you belong to.

“Need to make sure everybody knows you’re mine,” he says, lips ghosting your neck. “No one touches, and no one looks too long. Got it?”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “Is that jealousy talking?”

Chan grins, eyes glowing just a little with the thrill of it. “Maybe. Add a bit of possessiveness into the mix.”

You turn around to face him, adjusting your red cape and smoothing down your skirt. “You’re lucky I like it when wolves get territorial with their partners.”

“You’re lucky that you being in that costume is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You’d consider yourself… somewhat put together. After two years of therapy, you’d gotten better at managing your anxiety. You knew how to recognise the signs, how to slow your breathing, how to ground yourself before it spiraled.

However, nothing could prepare you for this.

Chan had only stepped away for a moment – to get drinks, he said; kissing your cheek and telling you to stay put. You do as you’re told, staying close to the wall – trying to stay away from the worst of the flashing lights and sticky drinks, fingers toying with the hem of your cloak. You scan the room, trying to soothe the buzzing in your chest. Maybe it’s the heat, or the lack of Chan’s presence, or–

“...___?”

You know that voice. You remember that voice.

There, just a few feet away in a glittered vampire cape and hesitant expression, stood the one person you hadn’t seen since middle school – the one person you prayed you’d never see again. Suddenly, you feel as though you’re thrusted back into your middle school years – how that venomous voice of hers echoed in the back of your skull after countless nights of crying into your pillow, how you begged the universe to let you be anything else but your current self.

Lee Minjae.

She has the same face, just… older. Softer, as though any cruelty she had back then had melted away. But the moment your eyes met hers, the room tipped sideways.

“Hey,” she said, her voice less venomous. “I… I didn’t think I’d see you here. I… I know this is weird, but can… Can I just talk to you for a second?”

She sounded so much calmer now. Gentler. But your body didn’t believe it.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

The music fades out as the room dimmed, faces blurring at the edge of your vision as adrenaline takes over every nerve in your body. You feel a tingle go up your spine and panic curled in your lungs like smoke.

“___?”

As she approached you, you backed away instinctively – flashbacks of that day playing right before your eyes.

Her laughing at you. The cruel words. The humiliation. The isolation.

“Whoa, careful there, baby.”

Chan. His voice was sharp and anchoring as his hands closed over your shoulders firmly.

You flinched like you’d been burned. Your wide, glasses eyes turned up to meet his and you watched his expression drop instantly into full concern. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

You wanted to respond, but you couldn’t.

It was like a hand was wrapped around your throat, stopping you from speaking. Stopping you from breathing properly.

The room was getting too loud. There were too many people. Too many eyes.

You couldn’t ground yourself.

Chan’s scent was there, but it wasn’t enough.

Your breath came in short, shallow bursts.

Then, you feel the slip.

Your hood fell back.

And your fox ears – golden-beige, velvet-soft, twitching anxiously; sprang up for all to see. A beat later, your tails unfurled from under your skirt, bristling like a storm.

There was a gasp from someone nearby. And then another.

“Oh my God–”

“What the fuck– She’s a hybrid?”

“Not just a hybrid, a fox.”

Dozens of eyes were on you.

Chan’s hold on you tightened, his body moving immediately to step in front of you so he could shield you.

But you were already running.

You stumbled out the back door, into the cold October night, lungs stinging and vision swimming. Your legs carried you blindly across the lawn, away from the music, away from the party – away from everything.

You didn’t even feel the tears until the wind kissed your cheeks. It was all too much.

The flashbacks. The exposure. The eyes.

Everything you’d spent years learning to manage, to keep hidden – gone in one night.

The autumn chill had transitioned into the beginning of winter, and most students had begun retreating indoors. The group lounges across the benches and stone planters, passing around warm drinks and lazily throwing acorns at each other while waiting for Chan to finish his lecture.

“She hasn’t texted back today either?” Junhui asks, voice lower than usual.

“She left me on read…” Yejin sighs, “At least that means she’s still using her phone…”

“Could be worse, y’know..?” Minghao adds quietly, “At least we know she’s not ghost ghosting us.”

Chan hadn’t said much the past few weeks either. The grief in his silence was loud enough. As much as he wants to help you, as much as the group wants to help, they knew they had to give you the space you needed.

However, Soonyoung seemed to have a different view. He leaned back with scoff, barely hiding the disdain in his voice. “You’re all acting like she didn’t lie to us for months. Hell, like she hadn’t lied to you three for years.”

Yejin blinked, clearly taken back by the wolf’s tone. “Excuse me?”

“She hid what she was. What she is,” Soonyoung said bluntly, voice harder than usual. “You don’t think that’s messed up? She calls you her friends, yet she hid the fact that she’s a fox from you for years.”

Minghao’s brows furrowed. “She didn’t owe anyone that information. Especially when she didn’t feel safe because of the discri–”

“This isn’t about what she owed, Hao,” the older wolf snapped. “It’s about trust. And don’t act like I’m the only one who felt something was off with her from the beginning.”

Junhui frowned, “Soonyoung, come on–”

“You’re a human, hyung,” he interrupts, arms crossed and jaw tensed. “You wouldn’t know the difference between the scent of a human and a hybrid. I fucking knew it. Not only did she smell not-human, she’s always deflecting questions. Jumpy. Always looking like someone’s about to bite her head off.”

Yejin stood abruptly, “So now she’s the villain because she didn’t fit your vibe?”

“No, she’s the bad guy because she played us. Played Chan. Foxes will always be foxes, right? They’re tricky little things. They get close just enough to sink their teeth in.”

Junhui attempts to calm his girlfriend down, urging her to sit down. “Soonyoung, you don’t believe that.”

The blonde wolf shrugged like it was obvious. “She got what she wanted. Attention. Someone to fawn over her, and now that everyone knows what she is, she runs? Doesn’t even bother to explain herself to Chan? Tell me that’s not manipulative.”

“You’re projecting your own bias onto her,” Minghao says sharply. “That’s not fair.”

Soonyoung laughs bitterly. “Am I? Or am I just saying what everyone’s thinking and too polite to say out loud?”

Silence fell over the group.

No one argued.

“Excuse me?”

The group turned in unison at the unfamiliar voice.

Minjae stood a few feet away in a fitted coat and soft scarf, hands buried in her pockets. Her expression was uneasy, like she knew what kind of welcome she might get, but came anyway. “I… I was wondering if any of you have seen ___?” she said carefully. “I-I was told she’s always seen with you and I haven’t been able to find her since the party.”

Yejin stood back up. “What the hell do you want from her?”

“I just… I want, need, to apologise to her,” Minjae replies. “It’s… It’s long overdue, but I really feel awful about it and I–”

Minghao cuts her off, “Apologise for what?”

She swallowed, “I was awful to her back in middle school.”

“So… You bullied her?”

Minjae’s silence confirmed it. There was a heavy pause, like the air itself had frozen.

“I know it sounds cliche, but I didn’t know any better back then. I just… She didn’t deserve what I did to her, and looking back, I realise that I shouldn’t have let discrimination or stigmas cloud my judgement of a person’s character or who they really are. ___ was really a sweet girl and I–”

“She looked like she saw a monster,” Yejin cuts in. “Even I couldn’t recognise her with how terrified she looked.”

Minjae tried to speak again, this time more subdued. “Look, I’m not here to make excuses for my actions. I really do want to make things right. If she wants me to leave her alone forever, I will. I just… I want to at least tell her I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused her.”

Yejin chews on the inside of her cheek before exhaling sharply. “We’ll pass on the message and she’ll reach out if she does feel like talking. Until then? Stay away.”

Minjae gives a small nod, slowly backing away.

As she walks off, Chan appears from the other end of the courtyard, catching only her retreating form. “...Who was that?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“No one important,” Yejin answered, turning to the younger wolf. “Let’s head inside. I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

You can hear your phone vibrating non-stop on the coffee table of your apartment. You didn’t need to check who it was – you knew it was your friends (and boyfriend) texting and calling to check up on you.

They’ve been trying to reach you for weeks.

Ever since the Halloween party.

Ever since your panic attack.

Ever since your secret was placed under the spotlight for everyone to gawk at.

You’d made it home that night on autopilot, barely remembering the run, only the sting in your lungs and the cold on your cheeks. Then came the sickening ache in your chest when you realised what had happened.

What everyone had seen.

People started to whisper about you whenever you walked by, the looks they gave you were enough to have you quickening your pace and averting your gaze. Hell, you even pretended the world was something you could mute.

But your phone didn’t stop.

Chan calls the most. You hear it in the way the vibrations stretched longer because he’s always letting it ring until it goes to voicemail. Sometimes you pick up your phone just to watch his name light up on the screen.

Channie ❤️ is calling…

You don’t answer.

You can’t.

Because deep down, no matter how many times Yejin tested “we miss you” and now matter how soft Minghao’s voice had been the last time you answered a call, only to hang up halfway through–

You saw the look in Soonyoung’s eyes.

You’d heard what he said. Not directly, but word travels fast when the gossip involves a fox hybrid who “tricked” her way into a circle of wolves.

“Foxes will always be foxes.”

You’re not even sure who repeated it to you. Maybe it was overheard, or whispered. Either way, it echoed, over and over, even now.

That’s why you’ve stayed away from them.

Because maybe Soonyoung wasn’t the only one who thought that way. Maybe the others were just better at hiding it.

And maybe… maybe even Chan was, too.

You curl tighter into the blanket wrapped around you, as if it could shield you from the thoughts clawing at your chest.

It’s not that you don’t miss them. You do.

You miss him.

But your silence has become a wall now – cold, thick, and possibly safe. If you break it, you’re not sure what you’ll find on the other side.

A few days later, you find yourself standing in front of the SVT frat house, your heart lodged somewhere in your throat. The winter air bit at your skin, and your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. It was the same house – loud, warm, alive. But to you, it felt like standing on the edge of something you weren’t sure if you were still welcomed.

It took you 15 minutes of mental debate to finally raise your hand and knock on the door. The sound was softer than you thought – hesitant, almost guilty. A few seconds passed, then the door swung open, revealing a very surprised Junhui. He blinked at you like he wasn’t sure you were real, mouth parting slightly in disbelief.

“___?”

You give him a small, anxious wave. He takes a step aside, giving you an assuring smile to welcome you in. “Come on in, Bambi.”

You scrunch your nose, “Bambi..?”

He chuckles softly, “Your eyes are wide like his with how nervous you are, ___. Can I get you anything? A snack? Maybe a glass of water?”

His hospitality is gentle, the kind that makes your heart ache a little because you didn’t realise how much you missed being treated like you mattered. He doesn’t ask why you ghosted them, doesn’t mention the night of the Halloween party. Instead, he just offers warmth, like a heater in the middle of winter.

“No, thanks,” you give him a small smile. “I… I came to talk to Chan.”

Junhui gestures towards the stairs, “He’s upstairs with Soonyoung and Yeijn.” You nod, taking a hesitant step forward as the heavy weight on your chest threatens to drag you back down.

Just as your foot hits the bottom step, he calls out softly behind you. “I know you’re a good person. It’s unfortunate that stigmatisation is something we have to deal with in this society, but I want you to know that hybrid or not, I believe you aren’t what they’ve labelled you as.”

You freeze mid-step, fingers curling slightly against the railing. His words settled over you like a second layer of comfort, barely enough to silence the storm inside you; but enough to keep you moving.

“Thanks, Jun,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you realised you had forgotten to ask Junhui which room the wolves were in. As you’re about to try your luck by knocking on the rooms one by one, you hear muted voices coming from one of them.

Approaching one of the doors that was slightly open ajar, the voices became clearer and you wished you hadn’t come by in the first place.

“So what if she’s a fox?” Yejin’s voice was sharp, laced with the kind of anger that came from defending someone she cares about. “That doesn’t suddenly erase everything she’s done or the kind of person she is!”

“She lied, Yejin!” Soonyoung shot back. “She lied to all of us! You think that doesn’t matter? She’s exactly like how foxes are!”

“She didn’t lie, hyung,” Chan’s voice came then, low and controlled, each word carrying weight. “She’s protecting herself. It’s not the same thing.”

You stood frozen just outside the door, heart hammering against your ribs. It was… surreal, to say the least. Your name – your identity, being dissected out in the open. As though you were no longer a person, just a debate.

“Foxes are deceitful! She literally lied to us, to you! Need I mention their unfaithfulness? Their tendencies to jump partners?” Soonyoung’s voice was raw with something between bitterness and conviction.

“Stop.”

Chan’s voice was so cold it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Hyung, as much as I love you, you’ve gone too far. ___ may be a fox, but she is not someone for you to project your biased views onto. You don’t get to talk about her like she’s some kind of warning label.”

“Lee Chan, are you fucking serious right now?” the elder barked, anger bubbling over. “Foxes aren’t like us wolves! We’re bound to one partner for all eternity while foxes can barely–”

“You don’t know her! I do, and she’s not like that!”

“Lee Chan!” Soonyoung warned, voice rising in pitch.

“Just because you were cheated on by Jihye means ___ would do it to me!” Chan’s voice cracked like a whip.

Yejin rises from the bed, “Okay, both of you, that’s enough–”

But it was too late.

Soonyoung’s eyes blew wide with rage as he marched forward, grabbing Chan by the collar of his shirt with both hands. “Don’t you fucking bring that name up,” he growls out, breath hot and trembling with fury.

“Soonyoung, let him go–”

“Then stop questioning my girl’s loyalty,” Chan bit back, unflinching despite the tension snapping between them like a live wire.

“Boys-” Yejin’s voice came again, edged with panic.

But it was Minghao’s voice that cut through everything.

“___? What are you doing here?”

All heads turned in an instant, towards the doorway where you stood frozen – fox ears flicked upwards but flattened just as quick, wide-eyed and trembling, like a prey caught in the glow of a spotlight. The weight of every stare crushed your chest.

You didn’t wait to see Chan’s face.

Didn’t stay to hear the silence shift into something else.

Because you turned.

And you ran.

Down the stairs, past Junhui’s startled call, out the door. The cold winter hit you once again, but it couldn’t numb the way your heart was racing nor the tears that blurred your vision. Your breath came in shallow bursts, the frantic sound of your footsteps drowned by the thunder in your ears.

You weren’t sure which hurt more.

The fear that Soonyoung could possibly be right…

Or the fact that Chan had to defend you like you were something shameful.

The cold didn’t leave your skin even after you slammed the apartment door shut behind you.

You leaned back against it, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. Your hands were trembling – whether from the sprint across campus, the leftover sting of Soonyoung’s words, or the echo of Chan’s voice calling you his girl, you weren’t sure.

You slipped off your shoes, barely kicking them aside before trudging towards the couch. The silence was a cruel contrast to the chaos still ringing in your head. Collapsing onto the couch without turning on the lights, you wrapped your arms around your knees. You hadn’t realised how tightly you’d been gripping your phone until it buzzed.

Flipping it over, the bright screen illuminates your tear-stained cheeks.

Three (3) missed calls from Yejin���

Five (5) missed calls from Channie❤️

Then came the messages. So many messages.

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your sweater, but the tears kept coming. You weren’t even sure what they were for anymore.

Maybe it’s the shame of being seen.

Or the guilt of running.

Or the fear that maybe Soonyoung was right.

Worst of all, the ache in your chest that came with the sound of Chan’s voice defending you. Because part of you… Part of you didn’t think you deserved it.

hao🐺: hey hao🐺: jun caught me up with what happened earlier hao🐺: i can’t justify soonyoung’s actions or words hao🐺: but i just want to say that he’s only looking out for chan hao🐺: and he’s been hurt by a fox hybrid in the past hao🐺: i’ll only say that much bcs it’s not my story to tell hao🐺: but pls take care ok? hao🐺: if you could, at least text or call back Chan

Then, Chan’s name lights up your screen once again. His contact photo, the one Yejin took during the last summer festival, smiling at you like nothing’s changed.

But it has.

channie❤️: baby channie❤️: please pickup the phone channie❤️: or at least answer me channie❤️: idk how much of the convo you heard channie❤️: but pls talk to me

The cursor blinks in the message box.

You could, want to answer. But your fingers don’t move.

Because you’re still trying to figure out if hearing him defend you made things better or so much worse.

You were in the middle of stuffing your face with ice cream, ears flattened against your head and tail thumping sadly. The sound of your doorbell ringing jolts you out of your fog. Pausing the sitcom playing on your TV, you wiped your mouth with a tissue and cautiously padded over to the door. Peeking through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat because on the other side of your door stood Chan – dishevelled, worry etched deep in his eyes.

You don’t answer. Maybe you weren’t ready.

Moments later, the doorbell rings again.

“Baby?” His voice was soft, but urgent through the door. “Baby, I came to talk to you… You weren’t answering my calls or texts, and I’m just… I… I just want us to talk, ___.”

Still silence.

He sighs, words slipping under the door like a warm breeze.

“___, I know you’re home and behind the door. I can smell you, y’know.”

A small squeak escapes you before the door creaks open slowly. Relief floods Chan’s face as he sees you standing there, timid and vulnerable. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, removing his shoes, and pulled you into a tight embrace. His hands settled on your waist as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “My sweet baby fox, why’d you hide from me?”

That term had you freezing up momentarily, breath hitching as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “I… I lied to you…” you confessed, voice shaky. “I… I deceived you… Soonyoung was–”

“Fuck Soonyoung and his words,” Chan’s tone was firm as his hands slid up from your waist to cup your face. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, “___, I know you have your own reasons for hiding the fact that you’re a fox. But that won’t change the face that I love you. I know you love me too, baby.”

“Chan–”

He presses a finger to your lips, “I think you know wolves only have one partner, don’t you? A partner they’ll spend the rest of their lives with – their one true mate.” Leaning in, his lips brushed against yours as he whispered, “And I’ve made up my mind on who my mate will be.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. “But, Chan–”

Chan captured your lips with his, as though he’s closing the gap between your doubts and his devotion. The kiss was slow, deep and claiming; each movement tender but charged with a quiet promise.

His hands tightened its grip on your waist, fingers digging into the fabric as he pressed closer – his body heat grounding you in the moment. Your tail gave a hesitant twitch at first, flicking once in uncertainty before curling around his left thigh. It trembled just a little, but the way it clung almost possessively revealed betrayed the little faux shyness you had.

You didn’t mean for it to move, at least not consciously, but your body was responding to him – craving his closeness.

You melt into him, heart pounding fiercely, breath hitching as his hands slid lower to pull you flush against him. There was a hunger beneath his touch, patient but it was unmistakably there while he eases you back gently toward the couch.

His strong hands caught you fully before you could fully settle onto the couch, his fingers tracing the curve of your body as he pressed you gently back against the soft cushions. You shivered slightly under his touch, but it wasn’t from the cold – it was the anticipation.

“Look at me, ___,” Chan whispered, his voice low and rough with need. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, admiring the way your ears twitched as his thumb lingers on your cheek. “You don’t have to be scared, yea? I’m here, foxy. I’m all yours if you’ll have me.”

You meet his gaze, the honesty in his eyes making your chest ache. “I’m scared,” you admitted softly. “After… After everything… What about Soonyoung and the others..?”

He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Forget about them and their opinions. They don’t get to decide who or what you are. You’re you. You’re my girl – clever, strong, the only one I want.”

His fingers trailed lower, sliding beneath the fabric of the oversized sweater you wore with a tenderness that was a complete opposite to the intensity burning behind his eyes. Your gasped softly as his touch found your bare skin, tracing slow and deliberate patterns along your thigh before finally easing inside your panties.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay? As much as I want to feel you, I also want you to feel safe.”

You nodded, breathless. “I do. Always. With you.”

He presses a kiss to your temple before sliding his hand down fully, two of his thick fingers sinking into your pussy with a groan he tries to bite back. “Fuck, foxy,” he whispers, dragging his fingers through your slick folds. “You’re already so wet and I barely even touched you. Do you get turned on whenever I tell you you’re mine?”

You whimpered – quiet, needy – and arched subtly into his hand. He curls his digits and your tail curls around his wrist like it was trying to hold him there.

His thumb brushes up to your clit, gentle at first – drawing small, slow circles; all while his fingers start to move at a maddening rhythm – curling deep and stroking your gummy walls just right. A startled moan leaves your lips at how quick he found your g-spot.

“There she is,” he purrs, voice dipping into a low tone. “There’s my pretty little fox.”

You shivered. Not from the cold, but from the way he said my. You take notice of the way his eyes darkened whenever he looks at you underneath him, like you were the only thing in the world that could calm the storm inside him – even if you were the cause of said storm.

You clenched around his fingers involuntarily, your face flushed with heat.

“I’ll never take you for granted, baby.” His voice was soft, but his movements weren’t. His pace gradually picked up, still careful and loving, but they were no longer shy. “You’re mine. No matter what they say.”

You gasped as he shifted closer, his hand never stopping their ministration. His thumb rubbed your clit in tight circles now, each rub expertly timed with the thrust of his finger. Your hips bucked, breath stuttering with every pulse of pleasure.

“C-Channie!” you cried out, “You’re making me feel so good!”

“Shit, love the way you sound when I pleasure you, foxy…” He sounds a bit more breathless now. It was a known fact that you both shared a praise kink – you get off when he praises you and vice versa.

“Those sweet little noises you make… Only I get to hear them. You know that, right?

You nodded frantically, eyes already glossy.

“Say it,” he urged, fingers pushing deeper into your squelching pussy. “Say that you’re mine.”

“Yours!” you moaned, hips bucking up only for Chan to press it back down. “I’m yours! Chan, I’m… Oh-Oh God..!”

“That’s it,” he coaxes, voice a little rougher. “That’s my girl.”

You cum at the praise, crying out as your body shakes underneath him. Your tail gave a sharp twitch before tightening again around his wrist, clinging as the waves of your orgasms crashed over you. Chan’s hand doesn’t stop, fingers slowing but not stopping, his thumb rolling your clit gentler as he murmurs praises against your skin.

“You’re so beautiful… So good for me… My pretty fox…”

Your tail quivered and wrapped tighter around his arm. Even when the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, he didn't pull away. He just holds you, his fingers still resting inside you, his other hand now moving to stroke the base of your tail, coaxing tiny shivers from your spent body.

“You’re not alone, baby,” he whispers into your hair. “You never will be. I love you. Just as you are.”

You meet his gaze, feeling your heart swell at his affection, and for the first time that day, or even in weeks – you smiled.

Chan’s fingers never leave your tail as you lay there, still catching your breath. He slowly traces the soft fur, his touch featherlight but purposeful, pulling out every tiny twitch and flick from you.

“Can’t get enough of you, foxy.” His hand curls around the plush tail, tugging just enough to make you whine. “Such a pretty tail… So soft… So beautiful…”

You felt your cheeks flush, hips shifting instinctively toward his hand. The tail was yours, but at that moment, it felt like Chan owned it instead. His hands move to your waist, “C’mon, baby, turn over f’me.”

You hesitated for a moment, heart hammering against your rib cage before obeying; rolling over onto your stomach before pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees. Chan’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight, exposed and vulnerable, your tail flicking nervously as he settled behind you. You hear the sounds of his pants being undone before he presses himself forward, warm and hard against your slick folds.

“Ready, foxy?”

You nodded and with a slow, steady motion, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. Your tail flicked wildly against his stomach as he started to thrust – slow and deep, matching the pounding rhythm of your heart.

The room was quiet except for the sounds of skin meeting skin and breathless moans as Chan moved behind you at a steady pace. The soft glow of the lamp casts shadows on the wall, dancing across the bare curves of your back, and illuminating the possessive gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes.

Chan had a firm grip on your hips, guiding you back onto his cock with each slow, deep thrust that leaves you gasping and trembling. The stretch was overwhelming but in the best ways possible – filling, grounding, possessive; and you couldn’t get enough – neither can he.

His low groan rumbles from his chest, his head dipping to brush his lips down the nape of your neck as he presses a kiss to your damp skin. “You’re doing so well for me, foxy,” he praises, his voice rough and edged with pride. “Pretty little pussy taking my dick so perfectly.”

His fingers trail down your spine until they find the base of your tail and your breath hitches. He raises an eyebrow, gauging your reaction before dipping his head to kiss the back of your neck again, slower this time – sending another shiver down your spine.

“Your tail is sensitive, isn’t it?” he teases against your skin, voice full of dark amusement.

You squirmed weakly beneath him, cheeks burning. “C-Channie~”

Suddenly, in a deliberate motion, Chan wraps his fingers around the base of your tail and gives it a firm tug. Your response was immediate – a strangled cry rips from your throat as your body arched back into him instinctively, your walls fluttering violently around him.

The jolt of pleasure surging through your body was white-hot, sharp. You cum around his thick cock and you barely had time to recover when he gave you a particularly deep thrust, leaking cockhead hitting your g-spot continuously with perfect, practiced precision.

“C-Channie!” you cried out, voice cracking as your vision blurred from the intensity.

Behind you, Chan lets out a dark chuckle, clearly pleased with your reaction. He leans forward, pressing his chest against your back, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You liked that, huh?” he growled softly, a wicked grin on his lips as he gave another tug on your tail, eliciting another high-pitched moan from your throat. “You’re so sensitive here, foxy… So responsive.”

Your fox ears flicked up in excitement before flattening shyly against your head, a clear sign of how overwhelmed and sensitive you were from the pleasure. His teeth grazed your clothed shoulder as he bit down lightly, anchoring you as he thrust into you harder this time, rougher – making your arms tremble beneath you as you struggled to hold yourself up.

“Say it,” he commanded. “Say you’re mine.”

“I– I’m yours,” you gasped, dizzy with need. “Only yours, Channie–”

“Louder.”

His pace grew erratic and you knew Chan was close too. The thought of him filling you up with his cum has you tightening around him, and he keeps slamming his cock into your sopping cunt with the goal of making you gush all over him.

“I’m yours!” You sobbed out, feeling another orgasm approaching. “Please! Please, Channie, I–”

His hand leaves your tail to find your clit, two fingers rubbing it in tight little circles as he continues to drive his aching cock into your sensitive pussy. “Cum for me, my pretty fox. Cream all over my cock with this sweet pussy of yours.”

The way he praises you and how his tip grinds against the spongy spot inside you was all it takes to have your orgasm crash over you. With your tail still tingling from the earlier tugs and his name on your lips like a prayer, you came hard – body trembling beneath him. Your moans echoed through the room as Chan fucks you through it, riding out your orgasm with a groan as he chases his own.

Your pussy clenches and unclenches rhythmically as Chan buries himself to the hilt, cock throbbing as he shoots his hot load inside your cunt. You mewl softly when you feel hot ropes of cum filling you up to the brim, some of it already dripping out your stuffed hole.

Chan stays close behind you, his hands gently sliding up your sides, wanting to ground your trembling frame. His touch was no longer urgent – just warm and tender.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, voice full of concern. He leans over, pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades. You nod faintly, still catching your breath as you rested on your forearms, muscles loose and spent. “Y-yeah… I’m okay, Channie…”

He shifts carefully, his dick still lodged inside you, keeping you plugged up. He slides an arm underneath your body to pull you up and cradle your body against his stomach. His hand comes to gently stroke the skin of your stomach.

“I… I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” he murmured, nuzzling into your hair. “I just… I love you, ___. All of you.”

Your fingers found his, lacing them together.

“I know, Channie,” you whispered back, exhausted but safe. “I love you too.”

Chan smiles against your shoulder, holding you just a little tighter as the room settles into a peaceful hush – nothing but your soft breaths and the quiet hum of affection.

The gossip of your revelation as a fox hybrid finally died down. But of course, there are still those that would test your loyalty.

The campus open study area buzzed with low chatter, and your focus was on the assignment that was handed out yesterday.

“Well, well, looks like I found the famous fox hybrid. I hear you’re not as fierce as they say.” The words slid from Jaemin’s lips, coated with false charm as he stepped close, trying to read your reaction. Several students nearby paused, a few leaned in closer to whisper amongst themselves.

You felt the familiar prickle crawl up the back of your neck – the attention alway came with a sharp edge, like waiting for someone to prod just hard enough to see if you’d fight back.

“Maybe you just need a friend… or something more.”

The words hung in the air like a trap disguised as flirtation.

Your eyes narrowed, seeing right through his attempt. A low, guttural growl escaped from deep in your throat, wild and warning. The room froze and Jaemin’s smirk vanished, replaced by a startled flush of unease. His brows shot up in genuine surprise, “Whoa, okay. Didn’t expect that.”

You bared your teeth just enough and fixed him with a cold glare, “I’m not who they made me out to be.”

The space quiets down as the male takes a hurried step back, swallowing hard. “Right. Noted.”

You straightened, calming your breathing as the adrenaline faded. Everyone got the message – you weren’t some heat-crazed fox for them to mock or flirt with just to see if you’d fold. It was clear that your loyalty wasn’t something anyone would ever question again.

The familiar buzz of SVT’s frat house buzzed through the air as you stepped inside, Chan’s hand firmly holding yours. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, every step feeling heavier than the last. You stayed close to him, hiding just a little behind his broad frame, the comfort of his presence keeping you together from falling apart at the anxiety clawing at your insides.

Chan’s eyes met yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You can do this, okay? I gotchu.”

The room fell momentarily silent when the group noticed your arrival. Junhui’s eyes grew wide, Minghao’s lips parted in shock, Yejin’s expression softened; but Soonyoung’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. You take a shaky breath, summoning every ounce of courage.

“I… I’m sorry,” you start, voice small and hesitant. “I… I didn’t mean to ghost you all. I… I’m sorry for not answering your calls or texts. I wasn’t ready.” Your eyes darted nervously between their faces, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and regret. “I didn’t mean to worry or hurt any of you.”

Junhui steps forward, his tone gentle but firm. “There’s no need to apologise, ___, really. We get it, things have been complicated. But you don’t have to face it alone anymore.”

Yejin nodded, a warm smile breaking through. “We missed you.”

The attention shifts to Soonyoung as he steps forward, his usual confident stance replaced by something more vulnerable. He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding direct eye contact at first. “___,” he greets.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Soonyoung…”

“I… I want to apologise, ___. For what I said and how I acted.”

He finally meets your gaze, the emotions in his eyes sincere. “I let my past and my pain get the better of me. I know that’s no excuse, but… I understand now that it wasn’t fair to take it out on you. You didn’t deserve that, and you don’t deserve to be treated like an outsider.”

He takes a deep breath, the tension in the room slowly melting away.

“Chan’s really important to me, and when my suspicions were confirmed… I thought… I thought that maybe you’d hurt him the way I was hurt before. But you’re not that person, I see that now. I’m sorry for doubting you, for being harsh.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback by his apology and earnestness. The air between you shifted, heavy with relief. Taking a steadying breath, you managed a small smile. “Thank you, Soonyoung. That… That really means a lot.”

The mood in the room shifted as the group rallied around you, eager to shake off the silence from the past few weeks. Junhui clapped his hands together with a bright grin. “Alright, enough heavy talk. Let’s celebrate having Bambi back!”

Yejin turns to her boyfriend, “Since when have you started calling her Bambi?”

He shrugs, “With those wide eyes, the answer is pretty obvious.”

Minghao pulls out a small box of cupcakes he’d bought, handing them around with a smile. “Welcome back party! Let’s go!”

Laughter fills the room as snacks are passed and music starts to hum softly from the speakers. You feel a comforting warmth surge through you, not just from the food, but from the genuine smiles and open arms around you.

As the night deepens, the noise and chatter starts to overwhelm your senses again. Quietly, you slipped away, making your way to the safety of Chan’s room. You sink into his bed, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the woodiness of the room.

Your tail flicked lazily beneath the covers as your ears twitched at the muffled sounds from the party outside.

A few minutes passed before the door creaked open.

“Baby?” Chan’s voice called out gently, and when he saw you all curled up on his bed, he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the whole night. “There’s my pretty fox.”

He closed the door behind him, crossing the room in a few long strides. The bed dipped as he took a seat beside you, reaching out to brush a few strands of stray hair away from your face.

“You okay?”

You hum, “Just… Just needed to take a breather…”

He smiles softly, slipping under the covers next to you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“I missed this,” you whispered.

“Me too, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll hold you for as long as you need.”

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝗑 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : anxiety, panic, angst, fluff, overstimulation, implied age gap, pet names, budding relationship au wc : 1.5k a/n : i’m thinking about maybe making the odd prompt list, not sure if anyone would be interested? idk i feel like i have so many ideas on what to write but not enough time to actually write them. lmk if it’s something anyone would be interested in😭

you'd always hated crowded spaces, but this - this was something else entirely.

the pounding bass from the club’s speakers seemed to vibrate through your whole body, and the flashing lights made it impossible to focus on anything for too long. it was all too loud, too chaotic. the mission had been simple: blend in, keep an eye on the target, and extract information. easy enough. except no one had accounted for the fact that a telepath like you could hardly stand in the middle of a packed nightclub without being bombarded by the overwhelming flood of thoughts and emotions from every single person around you.

the drinks, the laughter, the flirtations happening at every corner - they were suffocating. you tried to block them out, but your mental shields were already thin, your energy worn down from the mission prep. and now, with the music and flashing lights adding to the noise in your head, everything was starting to blur together. the alcohol from earlier wasn’t helping either.

you stood near the edge of the room, trying to focus on anything other than the mental cacophony around you. the team was scattered throughout the club, everyone doing their part to blend in with the crowd. but for you, it was becoming harder to concentrate on the task at hand. the target’s thoughts were buried under a thousand others, each one screaming for attention inside your mind.

you felt sick, like the world was spinning too fast. the room was closing in. your head pounded, and you could feel a sharp nausea creeping up your throat. you needed to get out of there, away from the noise, the thoughts, the people.

a warm hand suddenly brushed against your arm, pulling you out of the spiral you were falling into. you turned, blinking, and found logan standing beside you. his sharp eyes were locked on you, concern written all over his face. he’d always been able to read you better than anyone else on the team, even without telepathy.

“you alright, kid?” his voice cut through the haze, gruff but steady. it was like an anchor, something real and solid to focus on.

you nodded quickly, though it was a lie. “i’m fine,” you muttered, but the words felt weak, shaky.

logan didn’t buy it for a second. “yeah, bullshit,” he muttered, his hand still resting on your arm, grounding you. “you’re lookin’ pale as hell. c’mon, bub.”

before you could protest, logan gently but firmly led you toward the exit, weaving through the crowd with ease. you followed, grateful for his presence. the second you stepped outside, the cool night air hit you, and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

logan guided you away from the line of people waiting to get in and toward a quieter spot around the corner of the building, far from the pounding music. the noise from inside was muffled now, and without the sea of thoughts crashing into you from all sides, your head began to clear, just a little.

“better?” logan asked, his voice softer now, though still carrying that rough edge that was so inherently him.

you nodded, taking a deep breath. “yeah… yeah, much better. thanks.”

he leaned back against the brick wall, folding his arms across his chest, watching you carefully. he didn’t push, didn’t demand an explanation, but you could tell by the way his eyes narrowed slightly that he knew something was wrong.

“it’s just... the noise in there,” you said after a moment, your voice quiet, almost embarrassed. “not just the music, but the people. their thoughts. it’s... it’s a lot.”

logan’s expression softened, just a little. he might not understand telepathy the way you experienced it, but he got it in his own way. he knew what it was like to have too much going on in your head, to feel overwhelmed by things out of your control.

“should’ve said somethin’,” he muttered, though his tone wasn’t harsh. “i would’ve gotten you outta there sooner.”

you shook your head. “i didn’t want to mess up the mission.”

“the mission doesn’t matter if you’re about to pass out,” he shot back, his eyes flashing with irritation - not at you, but at the situation. “you gotta take care of yourself.”

you sighed, leaning against the wall beside him. “i know. ‘s just... hard. when you’re in a place like that, and everyone’s thinking all at once, it’s like - ” you shrugged, trying to find the right words. “it’s like being underwater. you can hear everything muffled, but it’s all too much at the same time. i couldn’t block them all out.”

logan was quiet for a moment, processing what you said. then he nodded, as if he understood. “well, you’re outta there now. you don’t need to go back in. the rest of us can handle it.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “no, i can’t leave the team like that. we’re supposed to - ”

“hey,” he interrupted, his voice low but firm. “you’ve done enough, kid. let us take it from here.” his gaze softened as he looked down at you. “besides, you ain’t leavin’ us hangin’. you’re just takin’ a breather. nothin’ wrong with that.”

you met his eyes, feeling a little less guilty under his steady gaze. he was right, of course. but it still felt wrong to step back when the rest of the team was inside, working.

“how about this,” logan added, his tone softening. “you stay out here for a bit, get your head straight, and if you’re feelin’ up to it, we’ll go back in together. but only if you’re ready.”

his words made you relax a little more. the pressure to keep pushing through was gone, and the idea of taking a break, even if just for a few minutes, didn’t feel so bad when he framed it like that.

“okay,” you agreed softly. “i think... i think i need a few minutes.”

logan nodded, satisfied with your answer. he pushed away from the wall and motioned toward a nearby bench. “sit down for a sec. no rush.”

you followed him, sinking onto the bench gratefully. the fresh air felt good, like it was clearing away the fog in your mind. logan sat beside you, silent but present, his arm resting on the back of the bench, his fingers grazing your shoulder lightly.

“how do you do it?” you asked after a few minutes, your voice barely above a whisper.

logan glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “do what?”

“stay so calm,” you murmured, staring down at your hands. “you’re always in control. even when everything’s going crazy, you just... keep it together.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “you think i’m calm?”

you looked at him, a little surprised by his response. “well, yeah. you always seem like you’ve got it under control.”

logan’s gaze softened as he met your eyes. “darlin’, i ain’t always calm. most of the time, i’m just as pissed off or frustrated as the next guy. but i learned a long time ago that lettin’ it take over don’t do any good. doesn’t mean it’s easy, but... you get used to it.”

you frowned slightly, processing what he said. “so... you’re just used to it?”

“nah,” he corrected, his voice softer now. “i’m used to dealin’ with it. there’s a difference. but i had to figure that out the hard way. you’ll get there, bub. more easily i hope.”

you nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. it wasn’t the same as what you were dealing with, but in a way, it felt like he understood more than anyone else on the team ever could. and the fact that he was here, sitting with you, offering quiet support, meant more than you could express.

“thanks,” you said after a moment, glancing up at him with a small smile. “for getting me out of there. for... everything.”

logan looked at you for a beat, his expression softening. “anytime,” he muttered, his voice gruff but genuine.

for a while, the two of you just sat there in the quiet, the night air cool against your skin. the noise and chaos of the club were distant now, and with logan beside you, the overwhelming thoughts and emotions that had threatened to drown you finally felt manageable.

“you ready to head back in?” logan asked after a few minutes, though his tone wasn’t pushy.

you hesitated for a second, then shook your head. “not yet.”

he smirked slightly, nodding. “good. let’s stay out here a bit longer.”

you smiled, leaning into his shoulder, and he didn’t pull away. instead, his arm settled around you, holding you close as the night stretched on, the two of you finding a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

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@bluevclvet, @angellreads, @babey-fruit-bat

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * PAUL LAHOTE HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 comfort for mental health issues

the imprint hits hard.

paul’s entire world shifts the moment he sees you. he’s always been the impulsive, rough-around-the-edges type, but the imprint anchors him in a way he never thought possible.

for the first time, he feels like he has a purpose beyond just fighting.

but when he learns that you struggle with depression and anxiety, he doesn’t react with pity—he just listens to you.

“you don’t have to pretend with me, okay? i’m not going anywhere. i’m right where i want to be.”

paul has a protective streak a mile wide, but when it comes to your mental health, he understands that he can’t just fix things.

instead, he does what he can—being there, keeping you grounded when the weight feels too heavy.

he doesn’t try to “fix” you or act like you’re fragile. he just wants to make things easier for you.

on your hardest days, he’ll lay in bed with you, rubbing circles on your back, not forcing you to talk but letting you know he’s there.

and when anxiety makes your thoughts spiral, he’s quick to remind you that you’re safe.

“i got you, baby. i’m right here.”

paul becomes hyper-aware of your moods—not in a way that suffocates you, but in a way that makes you feel seen.

if he notices you withdrawing, he doesn’t push, but he’ll quietly do little things to help.

he’ll bring you your favorite drink, put on your comfort movie, or casually wrap his arms around you so you can feel the warmth of his body.

paul is known for his temper, but he would never direct it at you.

if anything, he’s furious at the world for making you feel this way. if you ever feel like you’re a burden, that’s the one time he will get mad—at the thought itself.

“no. don’t say that. not to me. you are not a burden. you’re—damn it, you’re my person.”

if you need space, he’ll give it. but if you need him? he’s there. no hesitation.

paul isn’t always great with words, but he’s great at showing you how much he loves you.

he leaves sticky notes for you to find when he’s gone, with little scribbled messages like “you got this, baby” or “you’re doing so good today”.

and when you feel numb, when nothing seems to matter, he’ll kiss your forehead and whisper,

“i’ll hold on for both of us, okay? for as long as you need.”

paul has a way of bringing you back to the present when your thoughts start spiraling.

he doesn’t always know what to say, but he knows what you need—something real, something tangible.

if your anxiety spikes, he’ll grab your hands, press them against his chest, and make you match his breathing and feel his heartbeat.

“feel that? right here, babe. you and me. nothing else.”

paul is insanely protective, but he’s learned to channel it in ways that don’t smother you.

if you’re feeling drained and overwhelmed in public, he’s already steering you toward the exit.

if someone says something insensitive about mental health, his jaw clenches, but instead of starting a fight, he just tightens his grip on your hand.

“let’s get outta here, babe. no point wasting energy on these clowns.”

and if there’s ever a day when you can’t get out of bed, he doesn’t guilt-trip you or acts like it disappoints him.

instead, he throws himself down next to you and declares it a “lazy day,” even if he was supposed to have patrol.

“sam can handle it. you need me more and i want to be here.”

paul sucks at sleeping, and he knows you do too.

on nights when you’re stuck in your head, he’ll roll over, pull you into his chest, and just listen. he never rushes you to explain, never tells you you’re overreacting.

“i don’t care if it doesn’t make sense. if it’s in your head, it matters to me.”

some nights, you don’t have the energy to talk, and that’s okay too. he’ll run his fingers through your hair, press soft kisses to your shoulder, and whisper,

“close your eyes, sweetheart. i’m not going anywhere.”

paul knows that sometimes, big plans can be overwhelming. so instead, he takes you on little surprise dates—nothing fancy, just things to make your day a little brighter.

driving out to a quiet spot to watch the sunset.

bringing you takeout and watching your favorite comfort movie together.

showing up at your place with flowers he totally didn’t steal from emily’s garden.

leaving dumb little love notes around your space: “reminder: you’re hot and i love you”.

and if you’re not up for going out? no problem. he just kisses your forehead and says:

“then date night’s in bed with ice cream. perfect.”

paul may not be the best with words, but his love is in the details.

he learns your favorite comfort foods and keeps them stocked.

he remembers which songs help calm you down and hums them under his breath when he knows you’re struggling.

he randomly texts you things like “u better be drinking water” or “take a deep breath, babe. i love you.”

if you wake up feeling a little off, he doesn’t rush you to start the day. instead, he just buries his face in your neck and mumbles,

“we don’t gotta do anything today. just be here with me, yeah?”

and honestly? that’s more than enough.

paul is not the best cook, but that doesn’t stop him from trying when he knows you’re feeling down.

if you’re up for it, he’ll pull you into the kitchen and insist you help him—though he mostly just wants an excuse to hold you from behind while you stir something.

“uh… babe? i think i burned the eggs.”

“what— paul, how?”

“dunno. guess i was too busy looking at you.”

sometimes, the food turns out great. other times, you end up eating cereal at the table, laughing about how much of a disaster it was.

either way, paul calls it a win.

he buys you a weighted blanket after researching ways to help with anxiety, even though he pretends it wasn’t on purpose.

“dunno, babe. thought it looked soft.”

on days when your head feels too heavy, paul knows the best thing to do is get you outside.

he never forces you, but he’ll casually throw out the idea of a beach trip, knowing how much the ocean helps clear your mind.

if you don’t want to swim, that’s fine. he’ll just sit with you in the sand, arm wrapped around your shoulders, watching the waves roll in.

sometimes, he’ll poke at your side just to hear you laugh. “there’s that pretty smile.”

paul doesn’t care if there’s music or not—if he sees you standing around, he’ll grab your hands and start swaying, grinning like an idiot.

“c’mon, baby. just one dance.”

even if you roll your eyes, he won’t stop until you give in.

and when you do, he’ll spin you around dramatically, making you laugh until your chest feels lighter.

“see? i knew you loved me.”

paul has never been great at vulnerability, but with you, it’s different.

he makes it a point to remind you every single day that you’re loved.

not just when you’re happy, but especially when you’re not.

“i know your brain’s lying to you right now, but just so you know? you’re my whole damn world.”

even when you feel like nothing, paul makes sure you never forget that to him, you are his everything.

when you wake up feeling low, paul makes sure to remind you that happiness is still there—it just looks different on some days.

some days, happiness is dancing in the kitchen at 2 a.m.

some days, it’s paul kissing your knuckles and saying, “proud of you, baby.”

some days, it’s just lying in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, knowing that even on the hardest days, you are not alone.