Tokyo.Mickie

you couldn’t do anything but nod. meanwhile, robby’s beard was scratching against your inner thigh as he ascended even further up your legs, up until his mouth was inches away from your dripping pussy. he licked a teasing stripe up your slit before latching his tongue onto your clit, making you cry out.

“oh, you sound so pretty, baby. look so pretty, too,” jack grunted into your ear. he took you into a heated kiss and pushed his tongue against yours, his hands kneading your tits all the while. you reciprocated instantly while robby dived headfirst into your cunt, sliding his own tongue inside you.

“such a good fucking girl. love this pretty pussy,” robby grunted in between licks, his efforts harsh but pleasant all the while. “look how she’s dripping for us.”

“poor thing just needed to get off. s’okay, we got you, baby,” jack whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. he pinched your nipples between his fingers and smirked at your little yelp. “yeah, you like that, huh?”

“mhm, i do, j- jackie, fuck,” you moaned through a particularly sharp thrust of robby’s tongue, making your hips jerk.

“easy, brother. this is supposed to be a reward,” jack chided.

“it is. she likes this. don’t you, baby?”

you nodded. “y- yes, sir.”

robby chuckled against your pussy, the sound vibrating between your legs. “see? nothing to worry about.”

“mhm,” jack said with an eye-roll before putting his attention back on you. he continued to press kisses to your neck, this time sucking a few hickeys into your skin. paired with his large hands engulfing your hardened nipples, you felt like you might combust.

“christ, you’re fucking perfect,” robby moaned against you. he replaced his tongue with his fingers and sat up, pressing a kiss of the same nature as jack’s to your lips. you tasted yourself within it, whimpering at the taste.

“you feeling good, baby?” robby asked.

you nodded. “u- uh huh. so, so good.”

“good,” robby hummed. he moved his head downwards and latched onto one of your breasts, his fingers continuing to work inside your sloppy cunt. jack continued his own ministrations against your other tit, your nipple gripped tightly between his fingers.

robby circled his tongue around your nipple the same way he had been your clit, in tantalizingly sensual circles. that familiar pressure was starting to build between your legs with every flick, and you weren’t sure you could last much longer like this.

“fuck, she likes that, huh? clenching around me so tight,” robby grunted against your tit. he delivered a few little slaps to your pussy, knowing how wet it made you.

“y- yeah, robby,” you croaked out, bucking your hips into his hand. “more, p- please?”

“more what?”

“everything, everything,” you moaned. “your fingers, your mouth, want it all.”

“such a good girl, asking so nicely,” jack hummed. “you heard her, brother. give it to her nice.”

“don’t have to tell me twice,” robby chuckled. with that, he started to suck your aching nipple again, driving his fingers even harder into your pussy. he added a third for good measure, completely stretching you out on the digits.

the whole scene had jack evidently worked up from the way his hard cock was pressing into you from behind. you ground back against him subtly and he reciprocated, pressing his clothed dick against your ass.

“fuuuck, sweetheart,” jack groaned. his fingers started to lose coordination against your tit ever so slightly with every rock of your hips, his palm now lazily draped over the entire flesh of your breast.

you let out an attempt at a giggle, though it was interrupted by robby descending downwards once again, eyes set on your pussy. he replaced his fingers with his tongue for the final time, his thumb swirling your clit in tight circles.

“oh, fuck, m’so close,” you whined finally, more than ready to break.

“yeah, honey? gonna cum for us? show us how good you are?” jack cooed.

“y- yes! please, can i?”

“robby?” jack said.

robby pulled away for only seconds, just to mutter a disgruntled, “cum for us, honey.”

that was all the permission you needed.

while jack fondled your breasts with some degree of precision, his hard cock rutting against your ass from behind, you clenched around robby’s tongue, coming with a loud moan. when he started to withdraw it, you realized what that pressure in your low belly had really been as spurts of your release came shooting from your cunt.

“thaaat’s our girl. let it out, honey,” jack cooed as you rode out your high.

robby fingered you through it, alternating between that and slaps to your pussy as you squirted for them. he didn’t stop until his shirt was completely soaked alongside his beard, and you finally caught your breath.

“jesus, baby. made such a fucking mess,” robby said with a chuckle, pressing kisses to your inner thighs to help bring you down from the high.

“no kidding. gonna have to get you a new shirt, brother,” jack smirked. you hid in the crook of his neck embarrassedly, always feeling vulnerable whenever you squirted for them.

“oh, angel, don’t be embarrassed. you did so good, so, so good,” jack whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“in fact, i think we can give her another one, can’t we, brother?” robby said.

at the sight of you perking up with what could only be described as stars in your eyes, jack nodded, his thumb lovingly stroking your cheek. “yeah, robby. i think so.”

But the longer he went without getting the response he clearly wanted, the sharper and more hateful his comments became. You knew it wasn’t entirely due to your designation. No, Jacobs was here as temporary coverage, to fill the spot Dr. Simmons left with her retirement. The spot you’d been hired to fill. He undoubtedly thought if he chased you off, he could keep the job. Asshole.

Unfortunately for him, today you were tired. Exhausted really, functioning only off spite and copious amounts of caffeine. You’d been on call the last three nights. And while you’d only had to come in for one surgery, you never slept well when you knew you could be summoned at any moment. So today, you weren’t putting up with his shit.

You sat at one of the computers finishing up your notes for the surgery you’d finished fifteen minutes ago. Jacobs stood nearby chatting with one of the trauma surgeons, though his voice was pitched to carry straight to you.

“I just don’t understand why they would even give her a fellowship. Omegas are naturally better at following than leading. The designation is wired for support roles. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just interesting that PTMC is encouraging it.” He dropped his voice just a fraction but still loud enough to be heard by you and anyone else that happened to be around. “They can’t possibly think that she’ll be a successful attending.”

You stood, hands braced on the desk and stared him down. “Just because I am an Omega, doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole to me and I just take it.” You leaned closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. “Shove your designation up your ass.”

The department was silent as the few witnesses took in the both of you. Even those who hadn’t heard the entirety of what had been said, knew that it had to have been too far, too much. You were level-headed and calm in even the worst situations. It came from a lifetime of biting your tongue. Well, you were done.

Jacobs’ face turned a brilliant shade of red as he opened his mouth to respond. It snapped shut as someone said your name.

Just your name, but it was enough when it was Brendon Park saying it. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t sharp. Just that calm, even tone he used when he wasn’t busy reprimanding the med students and residents.

Your face flooded with heat. A combination of embarrassment and anger, you supposed. You turned and found him standing a short distance away. His scrubs were impeccable even though it was nearing the end of the shift. Of course, they were. Just like his hair was still gelled back with nary a strand out of place. His jaw was sharp enough to cut. His blue eyes gave nothing away as they assessed the situation.Head of the department. Alpha. And all together perfect for you, even if he’d never be yours.

He didn’t say anything else, simply tilting his head toward the hallway that led to his office and waited. Once you moved to follow, he led the way. The corridor felt longer than it had any right to be. You kept your chin up even if your hands were shaking. Jacobs might be an alpha asshole but he was still your superior. Technically. Telling him to shove anything up his ass probably wasn’t the most intelligent thing you’d ever done.

Park didn’t say a word nor did he look back to make sure you were following. His office door was open and he gestured for you to enter first. He followed and closed the door behind you. You glanced around the office, finding no changes from the last time you were here. The office was sparse but it was all him.

 And here, you could detect the slightest hint of warm cedar. His scent was dampened but stronger here than anywhere else and you knew he probably changed his scent patches here when needed. You attempted to breathe shallowly, not wanting this man to get any further under your skin than he already was.

He didn’t sit behind the desk. He leaned against the front of it, arms crossed, posture casual. You realized he was trying to keep this from feeling like a disciplinary meeting and you appreciated it. Some of the tension bled from your shoulders.

“What was that about?” he asked.

You told him all of it. From the first comment about how omegas have no place in the OR to the one he’d made last week to a nurse about your scent being distracting and maybe you should consider a stronger scent patch. Then the suggestion, made twice in the last month, that you’d gotten your fellowship placement because some alpha had put in a good word to get into your nest.

As you spoke, your voice regained its steadiness and the shaking in your hands ceased. You watched his face as you spoke. His expression didn’t change but his jaw tightened, a muscle twitching under the skin. His eyes remained on yours, not looking away even once. He listened without interrupting. When you finished, you felt lighter than you had in weeks.

Park studied you for a moment. “When did this start?”

“His second day.”

His gaze narrowed slightly at that before returning to normal. “Why didn’t you report it?”

You sighed. “I didn’t want to be that omega. The one that couldn’t take a few comments from an alpha. I only have six more weeks before he’ll be gone. I thought I could ignore it.”

“You could have said something to me if you didn’t want to involve HR.” His voice had softened.

“I could have, yes.”

The silence stretched for a beat. “But you didn’t.”

“No, sir.”

He nodded just once, a short downward movement of his chin. An acknowledgement of what you’d told him.

“Finish your rounds and go home,” he said.

That was it. No platitudes. No promises. Just a dismissal.

So, you left.

When you returned for your next shift two days later, you found Jacobs’ name gone from the department board. You glanced at the wall lined with the photos of the surgical attendings. There was no longer a picture of Jacobs smirking from the end of the row. It was if he’d never been there at all. The corners of your lips curled up into a smile.

Park was already at the nurses’ station when you arrived, reviewing his charts for that day’s surgeries. He didn’t look up when you approached. When you said good morning, he responded with nothing more than a short nod, his eyes meeting yours for half a second before returning to the chart.

Gratitude washed through you. Park had handled it. He hadn’t questioned your sincerity, hadn’t taken an alpha’s word over yours. He’d simply assessed the problem and took care of it. And that feeling you’d been shoving down for months welled up. The feeling you got whenever you watched him operate, when you took in the set of his broad shoulders, when he approved of your work with a simple ‘good.’

You were six weeks from being his colleague instead of his fellow. Six weeks from the hierarchy between you becoming something simpler. You had promised yourself you would wait.

That evening you broke that promise.

You decided on brownies. Something that would keep for a couple of days without refrigeration. That he could take a bite of when he had a moment. But you didn’t make the quick ones you could throw together without a second thought. No, these were a layered concoction that were rich without being too sweet. Dark chocolate and raspberry and cream cheese.

The apartment filled with the rich aroma. Once they’d cooled you packaged them carefully in a glass container. You stuck a note to the lid. A simple Thank you for believing me followed by your name. You resisted the urge to add a little heart after it.

You rested your palm against the lid and took a deep breath. An omega bringing food to an alpha was not a casual act of gratitude. It carried weight. It was a courting gesture. It was the kind of thing that said, I value you, I appreciate you, you’re worth me spending my time on. You knew what you were doing. Had known as soon as he asked for no accolades for his actions that were going to do it.

The next morning you arrived an hour early for your shift. Even Park didn’t arrive that early. You set the container on his desk, carefully in the center where he would see it first thing. Then you left, your heart in your throat, and went to prepare for your day.

Brendon found the container just before 6:30. He always arrived a half an hour early for his shift, wanting a chance to review the day’s OR schedule. He paused, setting down his bag, eyes on the container and your familiar scrawl. His brow furrowed as he read the note. Of course he believed you. Why would he do otherwise?

He’d worked with you for years. Watched you grow from a shy resident into a competent, confident surgeon. Jacobs was just some asshole filling a spot that was rightfully yours.

He lifted the lid. The deep, rich aroma of good chocolate flooded his senses, his mouth instantly watering. A pulse of possessive warmth started low in his belly and spread outward, making the hair on his arms stand up. His scent changed before he could stop it, the cedar deepening mixing with the underlying spicy smell of a pleased alpha.

He stood very still for a moment and let himself feel it.

Then he shut it down. Hard.

The last thing you needed was an alpha reading too much into a thank you. You had just spent weeks being insulted and humiliated on a daily basis by another alpha. You didn’t deserve the unwanted attentions of another.

If he ate this food, if he accepted this gesture, he would not be able to maintain the distance he’d built between you shift by shift. He closed the container, carried it to the breakroom and left it on the table. Then he went back to his office, closed the door and did not come out for twenty minutes.

You found it when you stopped by to get a cup of coffee between procedures. Your glass container, still half full of brownies sitting on the table. Crumbs littered the area around it.

You stood just inside the doorway of the empty breakroom and took a deep breath. Then another. Then you picked up the container and carried it to your locker. That night when you got home, you threw the whole thing in the garbage. Then you walked away.

As the days passed, you changed. You knew it but didn’t care enough to correct it. You spoke less in rounds. You kept your eyes anywhere but on Park when he was speaking. You stopped lingering at the nurses’ station to talk to him after your work was finished or between procedures. It was the only thing you knew to do. He had made his position clear and you weren’t going to push when you weren’t wanted.

Park changed too. His interactions with you became shorter, the tone more formal. Not cold, never that, but careful in a way he hadn’t been before. He stopped standing quite as close to you in the OR. Quit making small talk.

The distance between you grew enough that it was noted by others in the department. It was brought up to you exactly once and your cold dismissal was enough to keep them from asking again. No one was brave enough to broach the topic with Park.

It was fine, you told yourself, meaning it less with each passing day.

The shift was a brutal one.

You’d nearly lost a patient on the table. A tib-fib fracture that shifted, nicking the artery. For the longest ninety seconds of your life, the blood had come faster than you could clamp it. Your hands remained steady through all of it. As you found the bleed, as you repaired it, finished the surgery and closed. The patient was stable and in recovery now.

Your hands waited until after to shake. You stood at the sink, too hot water running over your trembling fingers. You pressed your forehead against the cool tile and breathed. Once you were more certain of yourself, sure the anxiety had ebbed enough to not be read on your face, you headed back to work.

At the end of the day, you were still carrying it there in the middle of your chest. As you passed the nurses’ station on your way out you heard the distinct sound of Park’s laugh.

Not the short exhale he gave when he found something mildly amusing. No, this was a real laugh. Low and easy, the way you’d only heard a handful of times. You stopped walking without meaning to, eyes searching him out.

He stood nearby with one of the floor nurses. Cindy, a pretty unmated omega that made residents trip over their own feet when she graced them with a smile. She had her hand on Park’s arm as she smiled up at him. And he let her. He stood there in his stupid purple scrubs with his stupid perfect hair while his eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed at something another omega had said.

He didn’t move her hand.

You kept walking and didn’t look back again. You swiped your badge to clock out then got on the elevator to head to the parking garage. You pushed through the doors to your level. You did not let yourself think about it until you were sitting in the driver’s seat of your car, engine off. The world mostly quiet around you.

And oh gods that hurt. It was one thing to know he didn’t want you. Another entirely to discover he wanted someone else. You sucked in a shaky breath as your fingers scrabbled to get a purchase on the scent patch on your wrist. First your left, then the right, ignoring the sharp pull of the adhesive against your skin.

You tossed them into the trash you kept on the passenger side of your car. Then you removed the larger one on your neck, at the junction of your throat and shoulder. The one that did the most work. Your omega scent began to bleed back into the air around you. The feeling of relief was immediate as your muscles loosened.

You braced your hands on the steering wheel and dropped your forehead to rest against them. You closed your eyes. And you cried.

Quiet sobs filled your car as your shoulders shook with the action. You were exhausted. You’d been holding onto everything so tightly. Pretending the rejection of the only alpha you’d ever really wanted hadn’t affected you in the least. Pretending you could keep things professional. That you could work with him every day without it tearing you up inside.

Your body had finally reached its limit and broke. Tears warmed your cheeks and dripped onto the wheel. You didn’t try to stop them. You could fall apart here in the quiet of the parking garage. Gods knew you wouldn’t be the first person to break in employee parking. You just needed to let it out, then you could pull yourself together and drive home. No one would ever know.

You barely registered the yank of your car door opening. Then hands were on your shoulders, turning you and pulling you out of the seat before you could even fully process what was happening. And then you were against his chest.

For a moment you panicked until that warm cedar scent flooded your nose. Brendon. His arms went around you, one hand resting on your back, the other cradling your head. His touch was gentle, grounding and…not meant for you.

You pushed against him, putting distance between you, minimal as it may be. His hands shifted to hold onto your upper arms.

His gaze raked over you, looking for injury maybe. “Who made you cry?” His voice was rough, urgent. “Tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

You shook your head and huffed in disbelief. You had cried so many times over this man. This alpha that wasn’t yours. “It was you, Brendon. It’s always been you.”

His hands stayed on you but he went still. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, quietly, “Me? What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it. Sometimes things just hurt and you can’t fix them,” you insisted then sucked in a bracing breath. “You’re allowed to not want me, Brendon, but it will take me a while to get over your rejection. It’s just how it is. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

His brow furrowed. “Rejection?”

Maybe he wasn’t as smart as you thought he was. “You left my gift on the breakroom table for everyone to eat. That usually counts as a rejection, yes.”

He stared at you, eyes wide with something that looked like panic. “The brownies. You were courting me?”

You blinked. “What did you think I was doing?”

“Saying thank you.” His voice was so quiet you barely heard him.

“Brendon Park.” His name dripped with disbelief as it rolled off your tongue. This stupid, idiot alpha. But just because he didn’t understand, didn’t mean he suddenly wanted you. You opened your mouth to say something else but he interrupted by cradling your face in both of his hands.

His thumbs brushed across your cheekbones. His eyes were dark, blue almost swallowed by his pupils. His scent grew warmer, headier with contentment and something that felt like want.

“I’m sorry, Omega.” His voice was low and rough. “We can discuss what an idiot I am later, but right now I need to kiss you. You smell divine and it’s making my head swim.”

And then he did.

His mouth was warm and softer than you’d imagined. And you had imagined it. So many times. His hands slid from your face to the back of your neck and he kissed you like he’d been thinking about it for as long as you had. Perhaps that careful distance he’d maintained between you had cost him something too.

You kissed him back. Your hands found his chest, clutching onto his scrubs to pull him closer. He chuckled against your lips. The world around you disappeared until all that was left was his mouth on yours and his scent in your lungs.

When he pulled back, his breathing was uneven. His forehead rested against yours, his thumbs still tracing your skin. “Five weeks until you’re an attending. I can wait five weeks.”

You laughed, the sound bright and relieved. “I couldn’t.” You closed your eyes and just enjoyed the moment before you pulled back to look at him. “I don’t want to wait, Brendon. I’ve been waiting. I already have the position. We can be discrete but don’t make me wait.” When he didn’t immediately respond, you added, “Please, alpha.”

His mouth curved. “Whatever my omega wants.”

Then he kissed you again.

You were twenty-four, bright and quick and warm in a way that made people instinctively gravitate toward you. You had started coming around the clubhouse because your cousin worked at the auto shop next door, and before long you had become a familiar presence: helping organize charity events, bringing coffee when everyone was too busy to remember they were human, laughing with Letty and teasing Coco when he got dramatic.

You treated Creeper with the same easy kindness you offered everyone else.

That was the problem.

Because Creeper was forty-five years old, and a patched member of the Mayans, and a man who had seen enough violence to know better than to put his heart somewhere it could be damaged so easily. He should have known better than to let himself care about someone whose life was still wide open with possibility.

Instead, he had fallen in love with you quietly and completely.

And he would rather be in a shootout than tell you.

That was another fact of his life.

Unfortunately for him, Johnny Cruz was a little shit.

The first time Coco said something, Creeper nearly drove his fist through the bar.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, hot enough that the air outside shimmered above the pavement. You were at the counter sorting donation receipts into neat stacks while Creeper sat at one of the tables pretending to read over inventory numbers.

He was not reading inventory numbers.

He was watching the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear when you concentrated.

Coco sauntered past him, took one look at his face, and grinned with the malicious delight of a man who had just found a loaded weapon lying unattended on the ground.

“You know,” Coco said loudly, “if you stare at her any harder, you’re gonna set her on fire.”

Creeper didn’t look up. “Shut up.”

You glanced over from the counter. “What?”

“Nothing,” Creeper said immediately.

Coco leaned against the counter beside you. “I was just saying Creeper here has been real interested in office supplies lately.”

You laughed. “Wow. Didn’t know filing receipts could be so fascinating.”

Creeper finally looked up, fixing Coco with a stare that should have reduced him to ash.

Coco only grinned wider. “I’m serious. Ask him about your favorite color. He knows it.”

You blinked. “My favorite color?”

Creeper muttered, “Blue.”

You turned toward him, surprised. “It is blue.”

Coco slapped the counter. “See? This man is paying attention.”

Creeper stood up so abruptly his chair scraped across the floor. “I’m going outside.”

“Coward,” Coco called after him.

Creeper heard your laugh behind him, light and genuine, and somehow that made the humiliation worse.

Outside, he leaned against the wall of the clubhouse and lit a cigarette with hands that were steadier than he felt.

Coco followed him out a minute later, still grinning.

“You’re gonna kill me one day,” Creeper said.

“Probably,” Coco agreed. “But not today, because today I’m helping you.”

“You’re not helping me.”

“Brother, you’ve been in love with her so long the whole charter knows except her.”

Creeper took a drag and looked away.

Coco’s expression softened just a fraction. “She likes you, too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It is exactly the point.”

Creeper shook his head. “She deserves someone with less… baggage.”

Coco barked out a laugh. “You’re a Mayan, Neron. We all got baggage. Some of us got whole airport terminals.”

Despite himself, Creeper almost smiled.

“Just talk to her,” Coco said. “One honest conversation. That’s all.”

“I’d rather get shot.”

Coco clapped him on the shoulder. “See? That’s the problem.”

The next Saturday, Coco somehow convinced you and Creeper to help with a supply run for a community barbecue.

“Why can’t you go yourself?” you asked as you loaded bags of charcoal into the truck bed.

“Because I’m busy,” Coco said.

“With what?”

“Important motorcycle club business.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re wearing flip-flops.”

“Exactly. It’s casual business.”

Creeper knew a setup when he saw one. “Coco.”

“Relax,” Coco said. “You two are just picking up food. How dangerous could it be?”

Creeper gave him a flat look.

“Okay,” Coco amended, “how emotionally dangerous could it be?”

“Coco,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

He waved you both toward the truck. “Go. Bond over condiments.”

The drive to the grocery store was quiet at first, but not uncomfortable. You sat in the passenger seat with the shopping list in your lap, occasionally reading items aloud while Creeper drove.

“Hot dog buns,” you said. “Hamburger buns. Chips. Water. Napkins.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

“And apparently twelve pounds of onions.”

“That sounds like Coco.”

You smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?”

At the store, you moved through the aisles together, dividing the list between you. Creeper carried the heavier items without being asked. When you reached for a case of water, he took it from your hands automatically.

“I can carry that,” you said.

“I know,” he replied. “I still got it.”

You watched him for a moment, something thoughtful passing across your face.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re always looking out for people.”

He shrugged. “Part of the job.”

“No,” you said softly. “I mean with everyone. You pay attention.”

Creeper felt his throat tighten. “Sometimes.”

You smiled and returned to the shopping list, but he carried your words with him through the rest of the store.

In the checkout line, an older woman behind you smiled at the two of you.

“You make a lovely couple,” she said.

You laughed. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you,” Creeper said at the same time.

You both froze.

The woman beamed. “Well, you’re very welcome.”

Creeper stared straight ahead while you bit back a smile.

When you reached the truck, you said gently, “That was smooth.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Your eyes were warm with amusement. “It was kind of sweet.”

Creeper looked at you then, really looked at you, and for one dangerous second he almost told you everything.

Then Coco called his phone.

“You two married yet?” Coco asked as soon as he answered.

Creeper hung up on him.

The barbecue was held in a small park near the community center. Music played from portable speakers while families gathered around folding tables covered in food.

You moved through the crowd with a tray of drinks, stopping to chat with parents and hand juice boxes to children. Creeper found himself watching you from near the grill, his expression softening every time someone smiled because of something you had said.

Coco noticed.

“Jesus Christ,” Coco muttered. “You look like a man watching his first sunrise.”

“Mind your business.”

“My business is entertainment, and you are currently the best show in Santo Padre.”

Creeper turned a burger with more force than necessary.

Coco leaned closer. “You know she’s been asking about you, right?”

Creeper looked up sharply. “What?”

“She asked if you were okay after that run to Stockton last month. Said you looked tired.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means she noticed.”

Before Creeper could respond, you approached the grill.

“Need help?” you asked.

“I’m good,” Creeper said.

You looked at the row of burgers. “That is definitely not true. Those are getting aggressive.”

Coco burst out laughing. “Aggressive burgers. I’m stealing that.”

You stepped beside Creeper and reached for the spatula. “Move over, Vargas. Let me save lunch.”

He handed it to you, and your fingers brushed his.

It was a small touch, brief and accidental, but it sent a sharp current through him.

You focused on the grill, unaware of the chaos you had caused. “There. Less aggressive.”

Creeper watched the profile of your face, the concentration in your eyes, the way the afternoon light caught the curve of your smile.

“You’re good at this,” he said before he could stop himself.

You glanced at him. “At cooking?”

“At making people feel comfortable.”

Your expression softened. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

Coco made a gagging noise loud enough for both of you to hear.

You laughed. Creeper glared.

Later, as the sun began to set, Coco gathered a few club members near one of the tables and announced, “I’d like to make a toast.”

“Oh no,” Creeper muttered.

Coco raised a paper cup. “To community, good food, and to Creeper finally admitting he’s hopelessly in love with—”

Creeper lunged across the table and clapped a hand over Coco’s mouth.

The entire group went silent.

You stared at them from a few feet away, holding a stack of plates.

Coco’s eyes danced with triumph above Creeper’s hand.

Creeper removed his hand slowly. “Don’t.”

Coco swallowed and said, with exaggerated innocence, “I was gonna say ‘in love with this barbecue sauce.’”

Nobody believed him.

Least of all you.

After the barbecue ended and the park had mostly emptied, you found Creeper near the truck loading the last of the supplies.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

He looked up. “Yeah.”

You hesitated. “What was that about with Coco earlier?”

Creeper considered lying.

He was very good at lying when it protected other people.

But you were looking at him with such open curiosity that the lie died before it reached his mouth.

“He talks too much,” Creeper said carefully.

“That is definitely true,” you said. “But he seemed to think he was teasing you about something specific.”

Creeper closed the tailgate and leaned against it.

The evening air had cooled, carrying the scent of charcoal and cut grass. Somewhere in the distance, children were still laughing.

He looked at you and thought, Here it is. This is the shootout.

“I care about you,” he said.

Your expression softened immediately. “I care about you, too.”

He nodded. “I know. But what I mean is…”

The words caught in his throat.

You waited.

Creeper laughed once, quiet and self-deprecating. “See? I can face down a gun and this is what gets me.”

Your brows drew together with concern. “Neron.”

Hearing his first name from you nearly undid him.

He took a breath.

“I’m in love with you,” he said.

The world went very still.

Creeper felt the aftermath of the confession move through him like a shockwave: relief, terror, vulnerability, and the strange emptiness that came from finally setting down a burden he had carried for years.

You looked at him with wide eyes.

“I didn’t plan to tell you,” he admitted. “Not like this. Not ever really. Definitely not because Coco can’t keep his mouth shut.”

A laugh escaped you then, startled and breathless.

“He really is a little shit,” you said.

Creeper smiled despite himself. “The worst.”

You stepped closer.

“I need to ask you something,” you said softly.

“Anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He looked away toward the darkening park.

“Because I’m forty-five,” he said. “Because I’m a patched member of a motorcycle club. Because I’ve lived a life that’s left marks on me, inside and out. And because you’re twenty-four and deserve a chance at a life that isn’t complicated by all of this.”

You were quiet for a moment.

Then you said, “Do you know what I deserve?”

Creeper looked back at you.

“I deserve the chance to decide what I want,” you said. “And what I want is to be with someone who sees me, who protects me without making me feel small, who listens when I speak and remembers my favorite color and carries the heavy things because he wants to help, not because he thinks I’m incapable.”

Creeper’s chest tightened painfully.

“You deserve better than me,” he said.

You smiled gently. “That’s not your decision to make.”

You reached out and took his hand.

Creeper stared at your fingers wrapped around his, as if he couldn’t quite believe they were there.

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” you admitted. “I just didn’t think you could possibly feel the same way.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“Well,” you said, smiling wider now, “that makes Coco’s teasing make a lot more sense.”

Creeper shook his head. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Maybe thank him first,” you suggested.

He considered this. “I can do both.”

You laughed, and the sound was so beautiful that he felt the last of his fear dissolve.

Creeper lifted his free hand to your face, giving you every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

His thumb brushed your cheek.

“You sure?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “I’m sure.”

Then he kissed you.

It was gentle at first, careful in the way only a man with too much feeling and too much restraint could be careful. But when you kissed him back, his hand settled against your waist and the kiss deepened into something warm and steady and real.

When you pulled apart, you were both smiling.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” Creeper replied.

You rested your forehead against his chest. “So what happens now?”

Creeper wrapped his arms around you, holding you as though he had been waiting his whole life to do it.

“Now,” he said, “I stop pretending I’m not crazy about you.”

The next afternoon, you and Creeper walked into the clubhouse together.

Conversation stopped.

Coco looked up from the bar, saw your joined hands, and slowly stood.

“No,” Creeper said immediately.

Coco raised both hands. “I haven’t said anything yet.”

“Don’t.”

Coco looked at you. “Did he finally tell you?”

You smiled. “He did.”

Coco pressed a hand to his heart. “I did it. I brought two people together.”

“You almost got strangled,” Angel pointed out.

“A small price to pay for romance.”

Creeper shook his head, but there was no heat in it.

You squeezed his hand. “Maybe don’t kill him today.”

Coco grinned. “See? She’s already improving you.”

Creeper looked down at you, his expression softening in a way that made the room collectively groan.

“There it is,” Coco said, pointing. “That look. He’s gone. Completely gone.”

“Shut up, Coco,” Creeper said, but he was smiling now.

Coco laughed. “Worth it.”

You leaned into Creeper’s side, and he slipped an arm around your shoulders as naturally as if he had been doing it forever.

For the first time in years, he wasn’t hiding.

The fact of his love was no longer a secret he carried alone.

It was yours now, too.

And when you looked up at him with that bright, certain smile, Creeper realized something that surprised him with its simplicity.

Telling you had been terrifying.

Over the next few weeks, you started appearing around the clubhouse more often.

Not constantly. Not enough to make a big impression on the crowd. But enough for Coco to notice.

You helped organize donated supplies for the community center. You dropped off paperwork for Bishop. Once, you came by with a box of tamales for everyone and nearly fled when half the room turned to thank you.

Coco watched the way you handled attention: carefully, like it was a fragile thing that might cut you if you held it wrong.

“You don’t gotta run every time someone says hi,” he told you one afternoon when he caught you halfway to the door after delivering another box.

You stopped and looked at him, startled.

“I know,” you said softly. “I just… don’t want to be in the way.”

Coco blinked.

“In the way?” he repeated. “How are you in the way when you’re literally bringing us food?”

Your cheeks went pink.

“It’s just a saying,” you murmured.

“Yeah, well, it’s a dumb one.” He took the box from your hands and set it on the table. “You’re not in the way, sweetheart.”

The word slipped out before he could stop it.

Your eyes widened. “Oh.”

Coco rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I mean—”

“It’s okay,” you said quickly.

And then, somehow, you smiled.

It wasn’t a big smile. It was the kind that started in the corners of your mouth and took a second to reach your eyes. But when it did, Coco felt something in his chest go soft.

“You’re adorable,” he said before he could help himself.

The smile vanished as you hid your face behind your hand.

“See?” Coco pointed at you, delighted. “That. That right there.”

“You’re making it worse,” you whispered.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I’m also right.”

Coco started finding reasons to be wherever you were.

If you came by with paperwork, he offered to carry it. If you were helping sort donations, he dragged over a chair and sat with you. If someone else tried to strike up a conversation and you looked trapped, Coco would appear beside you like he’d been summoned.

“Need a rescue?” he’d ask.

And every time, you’d give him that tiny relieved smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him once while the two of you were stacking canned goods in the clubhouse storage room.

“Do what?”

“Stay nearby all the time.”

Coco shrugged. “Maybe I want to.”

You looked down at the can in your hands.

“Why?”

Coco leaned against the shelf, watching you.

“Because I like you,” he said simply. “And because you look like you’re calculating the nearest exit every time someone asks you a question.”

A startled laugh escaped you.

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted.

“A little?” Coco teased. “Sweetheart, you have a whole evacuation plan.”

You laughed again, quieter this time, and Coco decided he’d spend the rest of his life trying to hear that sound.

The teasing started small.

Not from the club. The Mayans had their flaws, but most of them knew better than to pick on someone who’d done nothing but help them.

It came from a couple of guys who were visiting from another charter.

You’d brought in coffee one morning and set the tray down on the table.

“Morning,” you said softly.

“Morning,” Bishop replied, already reaching for a cup.

You started to back away, but one of the visiting guys looked you over and smirked.

“She always talk that quiet?” he asked, loud enough for the room to hear.

Your face changed immediately.

It was subtle. A small tightening around your eyes. A pause in your movement.

But Coco saw it.

Another guy laughed. “Maybe she’s scared of us.”

“Nah,” the first one said. “Maybe she just doesn’t have much to say.”

The room went still.

You lowered your gaze and took a step toward the door.

Coco stood up so fast his chair scraped hard against the floor.

“Try that again,” he said.

His voice wasn’t loud.

It didn’t need to be.

Both visitors looked at him.

“Relax, man,” one of them said. “We’re joking.”

Coco moved around the table, every line of his body suddenly sharp with irritation.

“She brought coffee,” he said. “She’s helped this club more times than either of you have, and the first thing out of your mouth is to make fun of how she talks?”

The guy shifted uncomfortably. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Then say something better.”

You were still standing near the doorway, hands clasped tightly in front of you.

Coco looked at you then, and his expression softened immediately.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Come here a second.”

You hesitated.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Slowly, you walked toward him.

Coco turned back to the visitors.

“She’s not your entertainment,” he said. “You got something to say to her, make it respectful.”

The first guy looked at you, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

You nodded faintly. “It’s okay.”

Coco snorted. “No, it’s not. But she’s nicer than me.”

A few of the Mayans chuckled.

The visitors apologized properly after that, and the tension slowly dissolved back into the room.

But Coco kept his attention on you.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

You nodded.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Good.” He tilted his head toward the coffee tray. “You brought all this by yourself?”

Your mouth twitched. “Yeah.”

“That’s a lot of coffee.”

“It was on sale.”

Coco stared at you for a second, then laughed.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You looked confused. “Why?”

“Because you just got embarrassed in front of a room full of bikers, and your main concern is still the coffee sale.”

Your cheeks warmed.

“Well,” you said, “it was a good sale.”

Coco pressed a hand over his heart.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “You’re killing me.”

After that, Coco became openly protective of you.

Not possessive.

Not overbearing.

Just… attentive.

If you arrived at the clubhouse, he made sure someone greeted you kindly. If the room got too loud, he’d guide you toward a quieter corner. If someone tried to put you on the spot, he’d redirect the conversation before you could panic.

“You know you don’t have to rescue me every five minutes,” you told him one evening while the two of you sat on the back steps behind the clubhouse.

Coco handed you a bottle of water.

“First of all, it’s not every five minutes.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” he admitted. “Maybe every six.”

You laughed softly.

“And second?”

“Second, I’m not rescuing you. I’m just… making sure people treat you right.”

You twisted the cap off the bottle and took a sip.

“They usually do.”

“They better,” Coco said.

The certainty in his voice made you glance at him.

He was looking out toward the parking lot, elbows resting on his knees. The sunset painted the edges of his tattoos gold.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked quietly.

Coco looked at you then.

The expression on his face was so honest that it made your stomach flutter.

“Because you’re kind,” he said. “And because you never ask for attention, which means the people who deserve attention most often get overlooked.”

You blinked.

“No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“That’s because they’re idiots.”

You laughed again.

Coco smiled, softer now.

“And because,” he added, “I think your shyness is adorable.”

You covered your face with your hands.

“There it is,” he said, delighted. “The hiding.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You like me anyway.”

You peeked at him through your fingers.

“Maybe a little.”

Coco grinned. “I’ll take it.”

As the weeks turned into months, your friendship settled into something warm and familiar.

You learned that Coco liked his coffee too strong and his music too loud.

He learned that you carried gum in your purse because it gave your hands something to do when you were nervous.

You learned that he could make almost anyone laugh.

He learned that you laughed hardest when you forgot to be self-conscious.

One night, after a particularly chaotic club gathering, you stayed behind to help clean up.

“You don’t have to do this,” Coco said, watching you stack empty cups.

“I know. I want to.”

He leaned against the counter.

“You always want to help.”

You shrugged. “It feels good to be useful.”

Coco’s expression softened.

“You know you don’t have to earn your place here, right?”

Your hands stilled.

“I know,” you said automatically.

Coco tilted his head.

“But you don’t feel it yet.”

You looked down.

He pushed off the counter and came closer, stopping at a respectful distance.

“Y/N,” he said gently, “you belong here because we like having you here. Because you’re thoughtful and funny and you bring coffee when nobody else remembers to. Not because you have to prove anything.”

Your throat tightened.

“You really think that?”

“I know it.”

You looked up at him then, and Coco saw the vulnerable hope in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

The nickname no longer made you freeze.

Now it made you smile.

The realization hit Coco one afternoon while you were sitting on the clubhouse porch, reading a book while the rest of the club argued about motorcycles nearby.

You looked peaceful.

Comfortable.

Safe.

Every now and then, you’d glance up at the conversation, smile at something ridiculous someone said, and then return to your book.

Coco watched you for a long moment.

EZ walked past and caught his expression.

“Oh,” EZ said.

Coco frowned. “What?”

“You’re fucked.”

“What are you talking about?”

EZ nodded toward you. “That look on your face. You’re fucked, man.”

Coco looked back at you.

You were tucking a bookmark into the pages, completely unaware of the conversation.

“Yeah,” Coco admitted quietly. “I know.”

EZ smiled.

“You gonna tell her?”

Coco rubbed his jaw.

“She’s shy enough already. Last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable.”

EZ snorted. “You mean the woman who lights up every time you walk into a room?”

Coco blinked.

“She does not.”

EZ just gave him a look.

Coco looked back at you again.

And maybe EZ was right.

Because the moment you noticed him watching, your face softened into a small smile.

A smile just for him.

Coco felt his chest tighten.

“Shit,” he muttered.

EZ laughed. “Exactly.”

The confession happened on a quiet evening.

You had stayed late after dropping off supplies, and most of the clubhouse had emptied out.

Coco found you outside, standing near the fence with your hands tucked into the sleeves of your oversized sweater.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Yeah. Just enjoying the quiet.”

Coco stepped beside you.

The night air was cool, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the faint scent of rain.

“I like when it’s quiet too,” he said.

You glanced at him, surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”

You smiled.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Coco looked at you then, really looked at you.

At the way your hair moved in the breeze.

At the way you stood close enough to him now that your shoulders almost touched.

At the way you no longer seemed ready to flee every conversation.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

You turned toward him.

Coco took a breath.

“I like you. More than a little. More than I probably should.”

Your eyes widened.

“I don’t want to put pressure on you,” he continued, “But I needed you to know.”

For a second, you just stared at him.

Then your cheeks turned pink.

Then pinker.

Coco smiled despite himself.

“You’re doing the blushing thing.”

You covered your face with your hands.

Coco laughed softly.

“Sorry. Bad timing.”

“No,” you said from behind your hands. “You’re right.”

“About what?”

You lowered your hands just enough for him to see your eyes.

“I like you too.”

Coco’s grin faded into something gentler.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“A lot.”

He stepped a little closer.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” You took a breath. “I’ve liked you for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Coco reached out slowly, giving you time to pull away.

When you didn’t, he brushed his fingers against yours.

“You don’t have to be loud to say something important,” he said.

Your fingers curled around his.

The smile you gave him then was small and shy and absolutely beautiful.

Coco leaned down, giving you every chance to stop him.

You didn’t.

The kiss was soft.

Careful.

It felt like a promise.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours.

“There she is,” he murmured.

You laughed quietly.

“Who?”

“My girl.”

Your face warmed again, but this time you didn’t hide.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Coco said. “If you want to be.”

You smiled up at him.

“I do.”

Coco kissed you once more, slow and sure.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like disappearing.

You felt seen.

You felt wanted.

You felt safe.

And standing there beside Johnny Cruz, with his hand wrapped around yours and his smile soft in the dark, you realised something simple and wonderful:

Being shy had never made you less worthy of love.

It had just made the right person pay closer attention.

these gifs specifically hello they take you home and go down on you together and groan when they taste you on each others mouths as they kiss with your puffy folds in between and you’re watching like “holy shit-“ and they’re like “wha-?” with strings of spit and slick connecting them when they pull back to listen to you and the glistening of their facial hair in the light it’s just too much, the sight sends another shiver down your legs, they both notice

“you like watching us huh? we knew you were perfect sweet girl” jack crawls back up your plush figure, planting kisses up your body as he slides himself behind you, helping position you for his boyfriend

“make her feel good, be a good boy f’me” he leans up to give robby the deepest kiss, robby smiles into it nodding

“fuck baby, just wanna move in? i don’t think we’ll be able to stop.” robby nudges in between your still trembling legs and slots himself at your weepy entrance, his hands sliding up your thighs, his youthful strength pinning your kneecaps to your ears, you squeak, and the rumble of their laughs fills the room; the chemistry is palpable.

in one languid thrust, robby pushes himself to the hilt, giving you mere seconds to adjust to the oxygen being ripped from your lungs. he’s huge

“oh!” your irises find the back of your skull as he begins to pound you relentlessly, your head gently falls on jacks shoulder

“take it.” robby is in your guts, you swear to god you felt him touch your heart twice, you don’t even know where you are, your mind is mush and everything comes out as mindless babbles, except for one thing- well two

“c’mon honey- words” his hands comes up to swipe your lips, you immediately lap at his wide thumb, murmuring, he pulls it out with a pop

“what baby?” jack’s hands roaming up and down your body, grazing every sensitive area

“you’re s-so deep daddy” you don’t even know what you’re saying you do

robby’s eyebrows raise, and he realizes his entire life just changed

“yeah?” he reaches underneath your hips, grabbing your ass and forcing himself even deeper

“yeah that’s what you need huh? daddy and dada?” jack murmurs into your temple

jack’s heart is soaring, he’s so proud of robby <3 hasn’t even been fucking you 2 minutes and you’re already so gone <3 robby is really just doing what jack does to him, to you, but softer. jack reaches up to brush the hair out of his eyes, down his nose, deft fingers slip into robby’s mouth letting himself soothe while he is praised, it’s all so much

“that’s so good brother” jack praises him for how well he’s fucking you, the sight is making his maroon tip leak against your back. robby has to choke back a whine at that, between his boyfriend praising him and his new girlfriend below him he can’t help but let a few airy breaths out that sent a pulse to your slit and robby feels it with a quick sip of air through pursed lips

“i-i’m getting close” robby’s voice is a few tones higher now

jacks freckled bicep snakes around your throat, gently squeezing and bringing your focus back, his other hand dancing down your body to your aching clit

“c’mon kiddo-“ his bicep squeezes tighter, all you can hear besides the blood rushing in your ears is robby’s pitchy whines, chasing his high and the plap plap plap of his balls against your ass, you’re there

“c-can i please cum-“ you look to jack, knowing robby is far gone in his own space now to give you permission

“awe that’s my good girl, yeah you can cum-“ before he can finish the rubber band deep in your tummy snaps, squirming, trying to wriggle out of anybody’s grasp, it’s so prolonged you feel another one building up

“oh my god- i’m gonna- jackie-“ robby blurts out, almost shamefully. jack slips out from behind you, and immediately attacks your abused clit with his mouth and giving long flat licks to robby’s length when it peeks out from your mound. jack is nodding his head yes, letting him know it’s okay to let go. robby thrusts his hot spurts deep into your cervix before his cock slips out, jack immediately takes him into his mouth and nuzzles his nose into his lover’s belly in one swoop, milking the rest of robby’s spend straight from the source, the suction of his throat causing more to spill out and down his chin, robby’s hand flies to the back of jacks head as he whimpers “thankyouthankyouthankyou” the stimulation was just too much, jack pulls off with a pop, and slaps robby’s ass playfully

“my good fucking boy” jack makes sure to give him extra praise, he can see that familiar sub glimmer in robby’s eyes.

you’re propped on your elbows watching now, having come back to earth slightly, you crawl across the bed, grabbing jack’s jaw and licking up every drop. sucking all of the juices that have collected in his moustache, robby leans down and you do the same to him.

“can we go get your stuff tomorrow” robby murmurs kissing down your neck

“i’ll drive” jack sits behind you, pulling you into his embrace while they attack you with kisses

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You set your coffee down with a small thunk on the long classroom table somewhere in the middle of the lecture room. Your binders and notebooks joined next, placed down more carefully to not tip the cup over, because spilling your caffeinated beverage before 8 am would have been a tragedy in and of itself. Your backpack sat nicely in the seat to your right, and to your left you placed one textbook exactly in the middle. 

One for Jack, and one for Robby; just as you'd been doing since you met them during orientation of your first year. Because where one of them was, the other wasn't too far behind with you, their added third to their duo, falling somewhere in the middle. 

Even though Robby was already an MS4 whereas you and Jack were MS1s, he'd known the curly-haired redhead during childhood and scooped you up right along with him. Now halfway through your second year where Robby wasn't as around as either you or Jack would like, he promised to at least sit with you when he got called in to assist during the few lectures of the ACLS provider course. Today happened to be one of those golden moments where all three of you got to be together again. 

Normally, you liked to be the first one in the room to get a feel for the atmosphere and not be rushed to find a nice seat. Doing so had grouped you and Jack in Gross Anatomy and Histology last year, and you would have liked to keep the streak going, however, as you looked around the room, your eyes caught on a male student sitting front and center with his hands folded. 

You fought the urge to scoff. Who fucking picks front row? 

Taking a seat, your head ducked closer to your backpack, and your hands dug around to find at least one of your good pencils before Jack decided to use them all for himself. 

"Are you looking for something?" the guy's voice echoed from the front. 

You didn't even look up over the desk when you answered. "Just needing to find a pencil." 

He fell quiet for a few moments, and you were sure he was watching you struggle to reach the bottom of your backpack, hoping that he'd stay quiet or at least look away. When you failed to grasp anything pencil-shaped, you straightened back up and squeaked when you came face to face with the guy, jolting at the sheer suddenness of his presence. He was holding a regular number 2 pencil out near your face, sharp end almost between your eyes. If you'd been any closer, your nose would have tapped it. 

"You can have one of mine," he said, more insisting for someone you didn't even know. 

You eyed him carefully. He was taller than you, you noted, and that even if you were still sitting down, he'd probably tower over you the way he was doing as he waited for you to take the yellow pencil. Your lips pursed together. 

"I'll be fine," you answered. "My friends probably have extras." 

"But I'm offering you mine. It'd be rude not to take it." 

Your stomach flipped. This guy probably wasn't going to stab you with the pencil in broad daylight right before class was about to stop, but your mind went sailing right back to last night's news that yet another student had been murdered while studying in the top floor of the library, and a chill raced up your spine. 

"You just go ahead and keep it; I think I'll wait," you muttered, eyes tearing away from him to look at your coffee, the steam rising steadily through the hole in the lid. 

He scoffed loudly. "Well, if you're not going to take my pencil, can I at least get your name," he said as though you had to compensate him for "wasting" his time. 

"Why would I give you my name if I don't even know yours first." You paused before adding with a smirk. "We're not supposed to give out our names to strangers." 

From your peripheral as you turned to look toward the door, you saw him physically contemplate your words. 

"Stephen with a ph," he pushed out, and you swore little droplets of his spit hit the cover of your binder. 

You desperately wanted to drag a sleeve over it for good measure, but that would just open another can of worms. 

His name didn't ring any bells. He certainly wasn't a part of your friend group, and you knew he wasn't the type of guy that Jack would go out of his way to befriend either. 

"Now, tell me your name." 

Your fingernails curled into your palms, mind willing for either Jack or Robby to walk right through the doors in some divine intervention. You were more than capable of telling the guy off, but why would you when either one could do it for you. 

Women in STEM you always told them after you managed to get them to do something for you. 

When you failed to answer and give up your name, Stephen hunched forward and placed both hands on the desk. Sadly, his weight and abruptness made the entire thing shake, and before you could reach out, your coffee tipped over and spilled in the opposite direction, right onto his shoes and pants. Your lip automatically slipped between your teeth in an attempt to not laugh as he yelped and cursed loudly. Yet, when he turned back towards you with fire in his eyes and out stretched hand with the pencil curled between his fingers, your face dropped.

"You bitch," he growled while shoving the pointed end in your direction. "You ruined my shoes!" 

This time, you were the one to scoff. "You shouldn't have shaken the table like that, so really, you ruined your own shoes all by yourself." 

His face flushed red, and his eyes practically bulged out of the sockets; he looked as though he were less than a second away from exploding and going off on you when the door opened wide, reviewing the two you had just been manifesting. 

Your head whipped so hard in their direction that you winced at the twang in your neck, and your chest heaved in a sigh of relief. 

"No, dude, I'm telling you, this class absolutely sucks," Jack loudly announced, hands gripping his backpack straps as he waddled in. "Just be glad we get here early because by 8 all these seats are fill—" 

His words died in his mouth when he finally looked away from Robby and over to where you normally sat, and his expression dropped at the sight of Stephen still towering over you with the pencil in your face. He halted abruptly, causing Robby to follow his line of sight. You tried your best to smile and slightly wave when you met their hazel and deep brown eyes, but the damage had already been done. 

Jack scowled something fierce, and his knuckles turned white. He took no time in resuming his walk over. Robby stayed close behind, height feeling more dramatic than normal. 

"Heeeyyyy," you drew out before pushing up out of the seat. 

Neither said nothing in return, opting to take their normal spots at your sides. Jack's hand planted in the middle of your lower back while Robby slung an arm around your shoulders, large hand squeezing gently when it rested against your upper bicep. 

Jack's chin jerked out at Stephen. "Who're you?" 

Stephen straightened slightly and puffed out his chest like that was going to do anything. "Stephen Miller." 

"Stephen Miller," he echoed before turning to you, his eyes softening. "Do we have a problem here?" 

"I was just trying to be friendly man—" 

"He wasn't talking to you," Robby cut in. His eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. 

In response you raised your head slightly. "No problem. Just having a conversation." 

"Didn't look like a very friendly one," Jack muttered. "You sure, sweetheart?" 

"Yeah." The corner of your mouth twitched slightly, but you knew both of them could see right through you. "I'm sure." 

Jack and Robby wanted to press more. Their chests had tightened the minute they saw this boy standing over you with what looked like intent to harm. For all they cared, they'd go straight to the dean and report him for violent tendencies, but the look in your eyes and normal want for no animosity kept them close. However, they did share a knowing glance over your head, something that you missed completely as you began to gather your stuff from their seats. 

The door burst open a beat later, and students began filling the classroom. Stephen finally sulked back to his chair but not without one more heated glare in your direction. 

"What the fuck was that about?" Jack muttered as he slung his backpack down to the ground. 

You rolled your eyes. "I guess my search for a pencil was louder than I thought, so he asked if I wanted one of his. When I said no and that I'd probably just steal one of yours, he got . . . angry? I don't know; it was weird. And then he knocked my coffee over," you retold, the last little bit coming across as more whiny than you would have liked, but you were a second year med student for fucks sake. 

Coffee kept you sane, and that asshole had taken your morning dose away from you. 

"Sorry we didn't get here sooner," Robby stated while getting his papers out, and you fully turned his way. 

This had been the first time in months that you got to see him. Between his countless hours as an R1 over at an ER a few towns over, about a two to three hour drive one way, and dealing with his own personal shit, he'd been gone long enough that a short beard covered his jaw and space between his nose and lips. You couldn't help yourself as you reached up and lightly scratched at it. 

"When did this get here?" you asked, desperately trying to change the conversation. 

His facial hair was soft beneath your fingers, and you felt the way he slightly leaned into your touch. 

"I already gave him shit about it; don't worry, sweetheart," Jack announced loudly. "He leaves us for—what?—three months and comes back with a face blanket?" 

Robby chuckled and leaned away to look at his friend over your shoulder. "Laugh it up, kid. You're just mad because all you can grow is that upper lip caterpillar." 

"Please, let's save the bickering until the clock hits at least ten o'clock," you laughed. 

Jack opened and closed his jaw while he made a talking motion with his hand, to which you lightly smacked hip upside the head before taking a seat. Almost instantly, Jack's left hand found the top of your knee. 

"But seriously," he muttered, leaning closer so his voice didn't carry much, "are you okay, though? That guy . . ." 

You placed your hand on top of his. "He's fine. I doubt he could do much damage with a pencil." 

"You never know," Robby huffed. "I'll be back soon; gotta check in with Professor Barlowe." He leaned down and pressed a very light kiss to your temple, something he'd started doing recently, and then clapped Jack on the shoulder as he passed. 

Your brows furrowed slightly when you noticed the way Jack let his eyes trail Robby, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. The two had always had a stronger bond than you would ever realize, and if they wanted to let you know if anything changed, you'd let them come to you first before asking invasive questions. 

So, instead, you settled on asking about the homework. "Were you able to get it all done? I was up forever." 

Jack pulled out a small stack of papers. "Yeah. I finished them this morning. Had a bit of a late night but managed to get a decent amount of sleep." He smiled widely, crooked teeth on full display. "How about you?" 

"Uh, I don't know if you listen much to the radios but there was another stabbing last night," you murmured. 

His eyebrows rose. "No shit?" 

"Yeah." You swallowed thickly. "Miles Pennington. He was found by the janitors in the library. No one knows who did it since all the cameras have been out since last semester, but he had five stab wounds and thirteen clean incisions." 

"How do you know all this?" he asked, shoulders hunching slightly. 

"My friend works the late night desk. She's the one who called the police and stuff. I'm surprised you didn't know any of this Mr. I have a police scanner and listen to it for fun." 

His head leaned back as he barked out a laugh before he looked back toward you, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "You're trouble; you know that?" 

You let your eyes quickly trail the freckles that dotted his outstretched neck. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, it kept me up most of the night, because—" You looked around before leaning in closer. "They think all the recent killings are all connected." 

Jack choked on his spit. "What?" 

"Every single one of them had calls from an unknown number on their hand-held mobiles that ranged from five to ten minutes." 

Under the desk, Jack's fingers tightened and curled into a fist. Through the adrenaline high, they'd, once again, forgotten to grab the fucking mobile. 

He hoped he was able to keep a calm expression to hide the way his heart was beating wildly beneath his sternum. However, his breathing must have quickened, because he watched the way your brows furrowed with concern.

"Are you okay?" you asked, scooching forward in your chair to give him a once over. 

"Fine," he managed to get out. "Just . . . I think I forgot one of the questions." 

"Oh, that's okay," you said, hand already sliding your copy of homework over without a second thought. 

Jack's heart clenched at your kindness that he definitely didn't deserve. Not when he was the one to give Miles every single one of those incisions with a scalpel Robby swiped from work. The guy was so close to graduating and becoming a resident, but he just had to go and flirt with you last Christmas, blatantly asking if you had plans to "stay warm" during the break. He had almost killed him then, already envisioning the way the blade would sink deep into his gut, before Robby had given him a look, eyes screaming to be patient. 

He only had to wait until midterms, get him alone, and have Robby make the call and give him what they dubbed "The Test" over a call before he could pin him to the ground. It had been easy with very little struggle, even with his vision clouded with that white opened-mouth mask they'd found in a going-out-of-business Halloween store. Cash payment; no trail, no evidence. 

Jack was already starting to itch again, that vein deep need to spill blood instead of stopping it from flowing, to cause harm instead of protecting. 

You snapped in front of his face, and he blinked rapidly. 

"You're spacing out again," you said. "Do you need to take a break? I doubt we'll get in trouble if we sneak out to get more coffee." 

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine." His finger tapped on your homework. "Thanks for this . . . again." 

Your hand rose and covered your mouth as you giggled. "No problem. I cannot have you flunking this class, Jack Abbot. I don't think I'd survive without you." 

"Nah, you're smart enough," he said after lightly flicking your temple. "You'll probably match your first try with whatever hospital you choose." 

"You think so?" Shyly, you tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. 

Jack met your eye with a ferocity you hadn't seen. "I know so." 

Heat flushed to your cheeks and spread down your neck into your top, and you quickly looked back down at your papers and binder. You took one glance toward the front, eyes locking onto Robby where he stood discussing something with your teacher. 

"Guess I just need to survive the next two years and hope I don't get a phone call myself," you whispered loud enough for Jack to hear over your scratching pencil and the beginnings of the lecture. 

It was almost like you'd been put under a trance every time the lesson began to not miss anything important. Because of this, you missed the way Jack locked eyes with Robby over the tops of the students' heads. His older friend barely glanced in the direction of Stephen, and the slight nod he got sent a pleasured chill racing over his skin. 

Jack couldn't wait to feel the slick of Stephen's blood and organs against his black leather gloves as he cut him up once clean slice at a time. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The phone's cord tangled around your finger as you giggled into the chunky receiver while Robby told you about one of the pranks his attending played on him because he fell asleep in an on-call room. 

"And then, they had the fucking audacity to page me, and I went running before I fell face first into the hub!" 

"And then what?" you laughed breathily, leaning back until your head hit your pillow. 

"Then so many casualties came in after, and I was stuck with the cast on and unable to help! I had to wait hours before they could get it off." 

"Did it teach you not to fall asleep?" you questioned with a smile that he couldn't even see, but Robby could definitely hear it in your voice. 

He smiled as well, lips practically kissing his phone. "For a bit, but then I managed to find an excellent napping place." 

"Did Benton tell you off for it?" 

"Nope." Robby looked down at the paper in his hand, fingers playing the frayed edge. "He actually woke me up with my acceptance papers." 

You sat up straight and gasped loudly. "Michael Strausser Speer Robinavitch! You got accepted into their emergency surgery program, and you didn't fucking tell me in person! You ass!" 

"It just slipped my mind." 

A scoff flew from your lips and echoed in his ear. 

"It just slipped my mind," you mocked, voice dipping into a lower tone that didn't quite match Robby's all the way. "Did you tell Jack?" 

"Yeah," he breathed. 

"And how'd that go?" 

Robby pursed his lips at the memory of Jack screaming at him before kissing him right on the lips. "As well as you could imagine." 

"He just . . . worries about you, I think," you tried to console with your lip between your teeth. "Worried about you several hours away, worried that he won't be able to catch up." 

"Did he tell you about his plans after med school?" 

You nodded on instinct before catching yourself. "Y-yeah, he did. He's brave for it." 

"Only Jack could want to be an Army field medic," Robby grumbled while running a hand across his jaw. "He's insane." 

A low hum rumbled through your chest in agreement. "He wants to help people, but I don't understand why he thinks he needs to do it under active fire." 

For some reason, tears pricked at your eyes, and you rapidly tried to blink them away. To keep them away, you did your best to sniff quietly, but the sound was louder through the phone than you thought. 

Robby frowned, and his brows pinched. "Hey, why're you crying?" 

You chomped down on the inside of your cheek before replying, "I don't want him to get hurt, and he's going to be so alone over there. It breaks my heart every time he wears that stupid Army crewneck he got at the recruitment office." 

He knew exactly which one you were talking about; he pulled the damn thing off Jack's freckled body earlier that morning right after he got back from slicing the kid in the library with blood still crusting at his shoes and at the stretches of skin the robe didn't cover. Robby had licked it all off before taking Jack's cock in his mouth. 

"Did I lose you over there, Robinavitch?" you asked when you could only hear heavy breathing. 

Robby raised his brows and smirked. "Oh, am I simply Robinavitch to you now?" 

"It's what you get for keeping important information from me!" 

"Okay, baby, okay," he mused, laying it heavy on the small pet name. “Have you decided what you’re wanting to do after school? We could always use you over at Sacred.” 

Nervously, you twirled the phone wire around a finger. “Actually . . . I’m thinking about looking into an endo fellowship.” 

Your words hit him right in the stomach. “What?” 

You huffed. “Yeah, I know I said I might go into emergency med, but Robby, I don’t think I can keep up with that life. Seeing all those traumas would fuck me in the head.” 

“So, Jack’s leaving me, and now you’re leaving me?” 

“Don’t put it like that. You’re a big boy; you’ll be fine.” Your eyes glanced around the room before widening when you caught the time. "Fuck, Rob, I gotta go. I'm supposed to meet my roommate for breakfast tomorrow before my 8 am." You paused before adding. "Thanks for talking to me. I've really missed you, ya know?" 

"I've missed you too," he confessed, "a lot." 

"It's not the same without you. I have Jack, but I think I can say we both feel incomplete when you're not here." 

"Feel the same out there," he whispered. "I'll let you go, but I'll give Jack a plan for lunch so we can all meet up, yeah?" 

"Sounds good, Robby. Sleep well," you said before ending the call. 

Your hands raised high above your head, and a soft moan slipped through your lips as you stretched. Needing to use the bathroom one more time, you softly slipped from the bed and padded toward the connected suite. You still had no clue how you managed to get a room with a bathroom, but you were never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

However, only a few feet away, your phone screeched a loud shrill into the air. Your cheeks puffed as you blew out air, mind thinking that Robby probably forgot to tell you something important. Your hand curled around the receiver and raised it to your ear. 

"Robby, I swear if you forgot about something again I'll—" 

"Hello?" a distorted voice cut you off, and your stomach dipped ever so slightly at the unfamiliar caller. 

"Um, hi?" 

"Would you like to play a game?" 

You frowned deeply. "No thank you. I think you have the wrong number. Goodbye." 

The phone clicked back into the stand, and you turned away once more, ready to get peeing over so you could get some sleep. Yet again, your phone rang, and you jumped at the noise. This time, you stomped back over and ripped it right out and up to your ear. 

"You shouldn't have done that," the voice tsked. "Because now, if you hang up again, I'll have to kill someone for you." 

Your blood ran ice cold. "How is this?" 

"Uh, uh, uh, I ask the questions here, sweets. And you still haven't answered my first one: would you like to play a game?" 

"Fuck you," you spat. "Is this Stephen from class, because I swear if this is just some elaborate prank, I'm going to report your sorry ass to the dean." 

"Oh, she has a mouth on her," he—because this had to be a man—laughed. "What fun you and I are going to have." 

"I'm not going to play whatever stupid game this is, Stephen." 

"Sorry to tell you, but this isn't Stephen," he growled, and the sound had you shaking slightly. 

Knuckles turning white, you gripped the phone tightly. "Then-then who is this?" 

"Can't tell you that or it'd ruin the surprise!" He sighed and clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Now, I will ask for the last time, do you want to play a game? Or should I start killing your friends? What are their names again? Jack and Michael?" 

"If you hurt them—" 

"You'll do what? You don't even know my name? But I know yours, Y/n." 

Your skin itched, and you whirled around, almost like you swore that you felt someone's eyes on your body. You stepped up to your window and cracked the blinds open with a finger. When no one seemed to be standing outside, you let the slat fall back down. 

"Will you play now?" 

A thick glob of saliva fought back against your attempt to swallow it down. "Fine. I'll play. What are the rules?" 

"If you can answer my questions, I won't kill poor Stephen here." 

In the background, you heard muffled screams and cries that matched the student who had held a pencil to your face. Tears slowly streamed down your face as it fully settled that the man on the other end wasn't playing around, that a life was in your, a mere med student's, hands. 

"Don't hurt him, please," you whimpered. 

"Such big emotions for a stranger. Oh, you're going to be such a good doctor one day." He cleared his throat. "Question one: a twenty-three-year old comes rolling in after being involved in a motorcycle accident. Her BPs seventy-eight over forty, heart rate’s one-forty. She has absent breath sounds on the left, and her trachea’s deviated to the right. What kills her first?” 

“How am I supposed to know that? I’m only a MS2, fucker.” 

“You’re smart enough to know it. All that time spent with that emergency resident, and you can’t remember anything?” 

“Just give me a second!” 

“I fear Stephen doesn’t have ‘a second,’” he taunted, and in the next moment, a pain-filled wail muffled through your phone, causing a sob to rip right from your throat. 

“Okay, okay, just—” You pinched your eyes shut as you tried to think through the question. “Tension pneumothorax,” you settled on before holding your breath. 

“And your treatment to keep him alive?” 

“A-a needle decompression followed by a ch-chest tube.” 

The distorted voice paused on the other line. “Correct. See, I knew you would get it. You’re so smart, Y/n.” 

You unsuccessfully tried to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but your eyes kept replenishing them. “Okay, I answered your fucking questions, now let the guy go.” 

“I’m sorry. Was I not specific? We still have three more to go before I think of letting Stephen here see another sunrise. Next question: A trauma patient arrives talking to you. Five minutes later, they’re confused, then unconscious. What do you suspect is happening?” 

A frustrated groan bubbled through your chest. “I need more information.” 

“If your patient is unconscious, you don’t get more information. Tick, tock, sweets, Stephen’s counting on you.” 

“It-it could be something like an epidural hematoma?” 

“And what would be the classic artery?” 

“The middle meningeal artery.” 

“I’m so proud of you for getting that correct.” 

Instead of feeling elated, you were so close to throwing up that you could taste the tang of bile on your tongue. “What’s the next one?” 

“Feeling confident, are we?” 

“Ask the fucking question.” 

“You’ve got penetrating trauma just left of the sternum. Blood pressure is dropping. Neck veins are distended, and the heart sounds are muffled. What’s the diagnosis, doc?” 

“Cardiac tamponade,” you answered instantly. It had been one of the homework questions from the ACLS provider course you had with Jack. 

“Treatment?” 

“Emergency thoracotomy if they’re crashing. Pericardiocentesis only if it’s the bridge.” 

“I guess you really can stay awake during your classes. Now, for the final question: your last trauma patient just received a massive transfusion after losing too much blood like poor Stephen will if you get this wrong. All seems to go well until the monitor suddenly shows a widening QRS, peaked T waves, and then ventricular tachycardia. What is killing the man on your table?” 

Your stomach dropped to your toes. This should have been the easiest one. You should know this. 

“It’s hypocalcemia,” you stated. 

The line went silent. 

“Did I get it? I got it, you mother fucker,” you growled. 

However, all you got was a click on his tongue. “Wrong.” 

All blood drained straight from your face. “Wha-what? No, I’m certain it’s hypocalcemia. It’s the textbook definition of it.” 

“The diagnosis you’re looking for is actually hyperkalemia. You would have needed to administer potassium instead. Well, the calcium would have been the protocol, but it wasn’t the answer I asked for.” 

“N-no,” you stuttered out with another sob wracking your body. “Please don’t hurt him. Let him go.” 

“I gave him a fighting chance like all good doctors do. But sometimes, in the real world, we can’t all save our patients. Say goodbye to Stephen. He’ll be missed in class.” 

Your throat constricted in a gag as wet slashing sounds echoed through your phone speaker. You should have turned it off, but you stayed frozen to the middle of your room, mind fuzzy and close to dissociation as Stephen’s wails rattled and echoed in your brain. He gave a particularly loud screech that followed almost a ripping sound, something you’d heard before from medical tapes used in surgical classes, the tell-tale noise of someone wrongly cutting through skin and tendons. 

In a few moments, he quieted before the line went fully quiet, save for the heavy, distorted breathing from the assailant. All you could manage to do was whimper and tremble. 

“Thanks for playing, sweets. Better luck next time.” 

The drawl of the dial tone echoed in your ear until the receiver slipped from your hand and landed in a loud thunk against your carpet. Your knees almost buckled as you tried to make your way back to your bed, bathroom break far forgotten. It didn’t even cross your mind as you sat shaking on the comforter, hands clenching the blanket. 

All you could hear were Stephen’s moans and cries, and if you could get past those, the man’s words rang freely. 

Say goodbye to Stephen. He’ll be missed in class.

The killer was in the ACLS provider course. One of your classmates just murdered Stephen and probably all the other guys too. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

“What’s so important that we had to meet before your first class, baby? Thought you had plans with your roommate,” Robby’s voice sounded behind you, and you flinched violently at the suddenness. “Woah, it’s just me.” 

Your red-rimmed wide eyes looked up at him from the empty space at the small coffee table in the on-campus cafe, and his cocky smirk dropped as he took in the paleness and horror that had been plastered on your face since that phone call late last night. Robby grabbed the top of the chair and dragged it out to sit. His knees bumped against yours while his hands gently rested on your cheeks, fingers tilting your chin in order for him to look you over, ever the doctor. 

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. You sleepily watched his eyes flicker down your face in an obvious fashion. “What happened?” 

You jerked out of his hold and looked back down to the table. “Let’s just wait for Jack.” 

Almost as if he were waiting for you to say his name, Jack plopped down into the seat opposite of Robby, the three of you making a triangle around the table. He too was wearing a smile that dropped just as quickly as Robby’s had moments earlier. At least he didn’t start going full doctor on you, but his concern was evident in his pinched expression. 

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked, eyes glancing over toward Robby. 

“That’s what I asked,” the brunette responded without looking away from your shaking form. 

“I-I wanted to tell you both before the n-news got out,” you stuttered between shaking breaths. 

Jack leaned forward and placed both his hands on the table. “What news? I think you’re scaring us a bit, sweetheart.” 

“Stephen wa-was murdered,” you squeaked, “last night, right after I finished talking to Robby.” Your pointer finger picked at your thumb, loose skin catching with every scrape. 

“Did your friend have to call in another one in the library?” Jack asked. 

You shook your head. “No. I did.” 

“You did?” Robby echoed, and his concern morphed into confusion. “Was he murdered in the girls’ dorms?” 

Another shake of your head. “No.” Tears welled in your lashline, and you squeezed your eyes tight as another wave of Stephen’s cries rang through your memory. 

Jack licked his lips and leaned back in the chair. “Well, didn’t you say the killer calls his victims? So, unless you’re a ghost, you should have been far away from whatever happened.” 

“You two don’t understand!” you screeched, not caring if a few people turned their heads toward you. “He called me. I had to listen to-to—” Bile burned up your throat as you slapped two hands over your mouth in case it decided to spew between your teeth. 

“Jeez,” Robby muttered as he dragged a hand down his jaw. “You had to listen to him getting . . . ya’ know.” 

“Murdered,” Jack filled in casually, like he wasn’t concerned at all about what you’d just confessed. Although, he did do a good job at looking a bit surprised. “But why would he call you?” 

“I don’t know,” you whimpered, arms coming to wrap around your middle as you hunched in on yourself. “One minute, I thought I was talking to Robby, and the next I thought it might be Stephen because of the pencil incident, but then I tried to hang up again, and . . .” you trailed off right as you remembered what the distorted voice had told you. 

“And what?” Jack pressed. 

 “He said if I hung up and didn’t play his game, he’d kill you two.” 

From the corner of his eye, Jack looked over at Robby for the briefest moment before scooting his chair closer to you to wrap you in a hug. Your pliant, shivering body went willingly right into his embrace, and he couldn’t help the smirk that stretched onto his face. 

Everything was going to plan better than they had expected. Sure, calling you hadn’t been their first line of action, but looking at you now, so scared, so terrified that they were in danger, made them feel like they should have called you first. Robby initially had been the one who wanted to call and hear your panicked little whimpers, but he’d been the last caller. At least Jack had the decency to record everything, and Robby didn’t remember the last time they had both cum so hard while fucking as they played your delicious sounding cries, its echos joining the perfect symphony of their moans. It was almost as good as having you there with them, but they had to get you willing. 

And right now, you seemed on the verge of being just that. They’d planted the seed of doubt in your mind that they weren’t untouchable, that they might be the next victims. 

Jack ran a hand up and down your back in soothing motions, and you pressed into his chest, eyes meeting Robby’s worried-looking brown hues across the table. 

“Did you already give your statement?” he asked. 

“Yeah; last night,” you sighed. “My roommate found me crying, and she was the one to call. Everything happened so quickly.” 

Jack pressed his cheek into the top of your head. “Did you recognize the voice?” 

“No. It was all distorted.” You tensed suddenly. “But he did say something weird.” 

Robby eyed Jack wearily. “Yeah?” 

You nodded. “He said that Stephen would be missed in class, but—I mean, wouldn’t that imply that the killer was in the same class as us?” 

Jack mouthed a quiet fuck and closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to say that; he needed himself as far from the scene and victim as possible. Robby normally got away with it since he was supposed to be three hours away while Jack made sure his alibi of being in his dorm room stayed air-tight. 

“Did you tell that to the police?” 

The corner of your lip turned downward. “I-I think? I don’t know; I can’t remember.” Your words started to slur into a whine, and a single tear slipped down your cheek in frustration. 

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Jack cooed, hand never stopping in soothing circles while he held you. “Tell you what. Why don’t you and I go down to the station after class if you’re feeling up to it.” 

Your stomach gurgled at the thought of having to retell what you went through for the sake of adding one more detail, and you swallowed thickly even if your mouth had gone dry. 

“I don’t think I want to go to class. Seeing the empty seat . . .” If you thought about it for long enough, you knew you’d start crying all over again. “Can we just stay here? Or go to the fountain outside?” You’d been looking at Robby, but you pulled back from Jack enough to look him in the face. However, when neither of them answered right away, your stomach sank. “Oh.” 

Robby cupped a hand at his neck, a familiar thing you’d seen him do for a year straight when he got stressed or nervous. 

“Jack and I promised that we’d help out with an advanced simulator today for the fourth year students after you two’s first lecture.” 

That was utter bullshit; they hadn’t been asked at all, but they needed to get away from you for a couple of hours to really let you sink into helplessness and paranoia. The longer you went without them with the thought that any moment they might be stabbed and sliced, the more you’d run into their willing arms no matter how they decided to break the news about their late-night activities. 

You pulled fully out of Jack’s embrace, and the freckled boy had to stop himself from bringing you right back in, hands already itching to grab onto your arms. But he pulled himself together; he would have all night with you once they got you right where they wanted. 

“Will I at least see you both before Robby has to go back tonight?” you asked, finger going back to pick at your thumb, face wincing when a spark of pain shot up your digit. You looked down in time to see blood well under the flap of skin. 

“Of course. I’ll be at Jack’s dorm after I finish up with the final night class,” Robby said and finally smiled. He leaned over and softly pinched your cheek. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to my favorite girl.” 

A rush of pleasure crept up to his chest at the sight of your heated cheeks, and somehow, evening couldn't come soon enough. After you stood and left, probably headed toward your dorm to try to get some sleep, Jack turned towards Robby with a flick of his head. 

“Tonight?” he asked, lips stretching into a wide smirk. 

Robby didn’t even look his way, eyes still planted on your figure. “Tonight.” 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Three raps of your knuckles against the wood door and a muffled Come in! from Jack had you pushing the creaky thing open and stepping right into his dorm. You eyed the small piles of clothes that you tried not to step on as you made your way toward his bed. Jack was leaned back against his headboard with a sleepy look on his face and pajamas on his body: a pair of much-too big sweats (that you guessed probably belonged to Robby) and that fucking Army crewneck. 

“Would it kill you to clean once in a while?” you asked while taking a seat right at the edge of the mattress. 

“There’s a system to it. Left side of the room is for clean clothes, and the right is for dirty,” he responded with a shit-eating smirk. 

You rolled your eyes and turned to face him as much as you could without lying stomach down on the bed. “You’re such a boy.” 

“At least my room’s not dripping in makeup,” he shot back, face scrunching in disgust. “It’s almost like I can smell it from here.” 

“No, that’s your hairspray.” You reached out to ruffle his curls, but his hand darted out and wrapped around your wrist before it could get any further. 

Jack pulled slightly, and you followed, knees digging into the comforter so he could bring you closer. “You know better than to touch the curls.” 

“Then don’t make fun of my makeup,” you muttered before ripping your hand out of his hold. Using your hands, you pushed yourself further up the bed and mirrored Jack with your shoulder against his and back against the headboard. “How’d that simulator thing go?” 

His lip curled. “As well as it could be. Fuck, I hope we’re not going to turn out to be like those stuck up know-it-all assholes. They think they know every damn answer.” 

You nudged him slightly. “As long as we study and actually know the answers, we can act as asshole-y as we want to.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and scoffed. “That’s the thing. We asked the question for the mock-up ER, and one of the guys in there—total douche—didn’t even know the protocol for hyperkalemia.” 

“It’s potassium instead of calcium,” you rattled off mindlessly before pausing. 

Jack turned slightly. “Yeah. How the fuck did you know that?” 

Your eyes locked onto your feet. “It-it was one the question I got wrong before Stephen—” Your mouth quivered. “Fuck, it’s all my fault.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“But it’s true, Jack,” you muttered. “I killed him.” Panic began to lick at the edges of your mind, and your chest started heaving in pants. “I killed him. I killed him.” 

Jack pushed up off the headboard and hovered halfway over, hands raising like he didn’t know where he could touch you without sending you over the edge. “You gotta breathe, or you’re going to pass out on me.” 

His words were like he was talking underwater, and you couldn’t even process what he was telling you to do. This was not a part of their plan, but Jack had to make due with what he could before Robby got back from killing one more student, a guy who had looked at you way too long in your pharmacology class. Before he could really think things through, Jack cupped your face, leaned in, and kissed you deeply. 

The feeling of his lips broke you out of whatever hysteria threatened to take over, and you found yourself mimicking his movements as you kissed him back, lips moving against the other while your hands found purchase in his crewneck. Your eyes fluttered shut before snapping back open when Robby popped in your mind. You pulled back instantly and wiped your lips as though that would get rid of what just happened. 

Jack took in your debauched look, you clearly liking that he kissed you, but the worried look you had sent his heart racing the wrong way. 

Had they read you wrong the entire time? 

“Jack,” you breathed. “We can’t.” 

He cocked his head. “Why can’t we?” 

“Robby.” 

“What about him, sweetheart.” 

You looked at him earnestly. “Aren’t you two . . .” You left words unsaid in case you were the one to get this wrong. 

Jack almost looked bashful as he replied. “You’re always too damn smart. Catching onto things before we could even tell you.” He leaned back in though and pressed another kiss to the side of your mouth. “We are . . . together, but—” He dragged his eyes over your body with a heated look. “But we want you too.” 

His words had you blinking rapidly. “What?” you laughed out, but one look from him said that he wasn’t joking around. “Are-are you serious?” 

He clicked his tongue against his cheek. “Deadly.” 

You weren’t too sure who moved first, but you met his mouth once more halfway. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his lips and teeth mushing against yours. His hands rose and planted on your hips, fingers curling into the small pudge against bone and pulling you into him, hips dragging along the blankets until you were seated on his lap. Your knees dug into the mattress on both sides of his thick thighs as you held onto his face.

Jack shivered with glee at the feeling of your grinding weight on top of him, cock already stiff below Robby’s pair of sweatpants hugging his legs. He bucked up slightly into your dampening core, and your jaw dropped enough for him to slide his wet tongue right into your hot mouth. He languidly licked around your teeth before playing with the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t help but think that if he was this into your mouth, you wanted to imagine what it’d feel like against your clit. At the vivid picture popping into your imagination, you ground down harder against his bulge.

Jack being large wasn’t surprising; not with the amount of tight pants he liked to wear, but you never imagined yourself being able to feel it nestled against your clit through your thin pajamas. As you continued to rock back and forth, he let go in order to play with the hem of your shirt before lifting it over your head and tossing it to the ground. His eyes widened slightly when he realized you’d foregone the bra. 

“Fuck,” he muttered after pulling back to really look at them, hands rising to cup your breasts. 

With his pointer fingers and thumbs, he pinched your nipples into soft peaks, drawing a higher-pitched whine from behind your teeth. By now, your underwear were soaked with slick arousal. Without warning, he leaned in right as your back arched and took one bud into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed, and a loud sucking noise squeaked out of his lips. You jerked at the feeling and sank your hands into his hair. 

“Jack,” you breathily sighed. 

“That’s me, sweetheart,” he retorted after letting your nipple go with a wet pop just to do the same to your other one. 

You normally weren’t one to cum just from stimulation to your breasts, but the hazy feeling from grinding on Jack’s cock and his lips and tongue circling your nipples started to well in your stomach. Your jaw dropped again as a loud moan shuddered out of you after he bit down on the sensitive peak before running a soothing, wet stripe over it. He pulled back again to lightly blow on the heated flesh, and his cooled breath made goosebumps race up your skin. 

He dropped a hand to play with the waistline of shorts, and you lifted your hips to allow him to get your sleep shorts and underwear off in one go. They quickly joined your shirt at the floor, and his hand had just started to trail between your thighs when his bedside phone gave off a loud shrill into the air. Jack acted as though he didn’t hear it, lips still suckling away at your chest. 

“Aren’t you going to get that?” you panted between the grinds of your hips. 

“Just let it ring,” he responded, but the sound had already ripped your attention away from between your legs. 

With a smile, you reached over and picked up the phone, mind too full with pleasure to even think of the last time you picked up a phone without knowing who was on the other line. Really, you should have been more careful, but with Jack under your naked body, all caution was out the window. 

“Jack’s busy right now,” you giggled into the phone, “but I can give him a message—” 

“Hi, baby.” 

Your hips stilled, and your blood froze at the sound of the distorted voice. A dizzying feeling replaced the warmth of pleasure in your system, and you could barely get out a response that wasn’t a small, terrified noise. 

“Has Jack left you that speechless already?” he continued, voice sounding louder than it had last night over the phone. If you really thought about it, it felt as though he was right next to your ear. “Go on, baby. You were looking so pretty getting messy over him. I was really enjoying the show,” he growled, voice suddenly right over your shoulder instead of through the speaker. 

You dropped the phone and whipped around right off Jack’s lap, and panic seized your chest, because right by the door, a tall man draped in black fabric and a hollowed-eyed white mask stared back at you. You started to scramble as a small scream ripped up your throat, but Jack was quicker. He grabbed your hips and brought you back to this lap, this time facing the masked intruder. His arms wrapped around your middle and held you through your struggles and tears. 

“Jack, what the fuck!” you sobbed, hands wrenching and nails scratching at his arms. “Let me go! We’re going to die! Let me go, please!” 

Instead of doing what you demanded, Jack tucked his chin onto your shoulder as the man started stalking toward the bed. With each step, your struggles grew. By now, Jack’s arms were littered with bleeding stripes from your desperation to get away, but that only added to his pleasure, cock never failing to fade into softness against your back. Your chest heaved and tightened the closer the man got before he stopped at the foot of the bed. 

You watched with wide eyes as he raised a small box to where his lips would be under the mask before his empty gloved hand suddenly lifted the stretched-chin until the mask slipped from his face, and Robby’s dark brown eyes locked on yours. 

His lips curled into a devilish smirk. “Surprise, baby.” 

For a split second, you thought you’d pass out, suddenly overwhelmed with everything in a dizzy sensation. 

“What?” you sputtered. 

Jack hummed over your shoulder and ran a finger down your tear-streaked cheek. He pouted when you met his eye from the corner of yours. 

“Aw, sweets, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Not enjoying our little surprise?” he taunted before a chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Awww, Mikey, look at her. The poor thing’s shaking.” 

Robby let the voice modulator fall to the floor with a dulled thunk that kept your heart racing against your ribcage. In a desperate attempt to keep a distance between you and Robby, you tried to fling yourself to the side, but Jack just tightened his arms around you more. 

“Not so fast,” he said. “Not when we haven’t gotten to the best part yet.” One arm let go so his hand could grip your chin to keep you facing Robby. “Go on and spread her legs for me.” 

Without hesitation, Robby kneeled at the edge of the mattress and crawled until he reached where your feet planted against the comforter. His brown eyes, the hues almost black with lust, watched you intently as he placed his gloved hands on your naked knees. Yet, when he tried to part them, you swung a foot and connected it right between his legs, drawing a grunt from deep in his lungs. 

He shuddered, his hand reaching down to palm himself over the long black robes he wore. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he fought to get air back in his lungs. As his hand pressed down harder, he groaned, looking up at you through his eyelashes. The inky blackness of his pupils swallowed the brown of his irises entirely.

The motherfucker liked that. 

Jack’s hand slid down from your jaw and wrapped around the front of your throat, and his fingers squeezed lightly against the sides of your neck, sending a fuzzy wave to your brain, and your breath hitched, body stilling in his grasp. His lips softly grazed your ear as he whispered, “Be a good girl and stay still for us. You’ll like it, I promise.” 

He jerked his chin out towards Robby, and you could only watch him finally grip your knees. In one fluid motion, he wrenched your legs apart, revealing your glistening cunt to both of them. Robby hummed lowly in amusement. 

“You’re so wet for us, baby,” he mused and lowered his face until he was inches away from your core. 

An embarrassed heat flooded your face and neck when he inhaled sharply. If you bucked your hips to get him to move back, you’d just shove his nose right into your folds, and if you withdrew them, you’d grind right into Jack’s cock. You were stuck, and neither seemed to be concerned with how you felt. 

“Please let me go,” you pleaded with a whimper and squeezed-shut eyes. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

Jack tutted against your ear. “It’s not that we don’t believe you, sweets, but . . .” 

“We’ve already waited this long to have you like this,” Robby finished his sentence, finally pulling back from between your legs to look down at you as he ripped the gloves off. “We can’t let you go after we’ve worked so hard to get you right where we want.” 

“You fucking murdered people,” you spat, body beginning to shift unconsciously as a result of your fear . . . or something closer to simmering arousal that you didn’t even want to admit to. “And now you think I’m just going to sit here and enjoy this?” 

“Well, yeah,” Jack smacked his lips. “Cause even though you’re putting on a big show of being brave even if you’re terrified—” He reached down and ran a fingertip through your cunt from hole to clit before holding it up to the light to show just how wet it was. “Your body is still begging for us.” 

You shivered against him. “It’s not—I’m not begging.” 

Jack sighed loudly. “That’s okay; we know you will once we get started.” His hazel eyes met Robby’s gaze. “Go right ahead, Mikey.” 

“Robby, please don’t,” you whispered as he leaned back down, bare fingers coming to grip at the soft insides of your thighs. “Don’t do this. I—” 

You bit down on your lip to stifle the first moan that threatened to burst out as Robby’s tongue began to lick at your puffy folds, fingers curling into Jack’s freckled forearms and thighs jolting at the feeling. He held them down. His tongue moved inward and stiffened into a point to drag upward to your throbbing clit, the texture of his tastebuds adding to the buzzy stimulation. He toyed with you, going from circular motions to biting down gently with his front teeth. As he tilted his face to get a better angle, his beard rubbed against your inner thighs, and the scratchiness of it added to the burning pleasure from your core. 

If he continued, he’d leave a lasting reminder of beard burn for you to remember this night. 

Above, you refused to look down at him, lip staying between your teeth as he tried to break you. Jack was having none of it, and the hand around your throat pressed harder into your pulse points, cutting off your circulation to flood your brain with a hazy feeling that made the pleasure from Robby’s ministrations grow tenfold. 

It was only when he licked around your sopping entrance that a keel ripped from your throat, and the sound was like music to their ears. 

“Good job, sweetheart,” Jack muttered as he let go to allow oxygen to rush back in. “That’s what we want to hear. Keep going, Mikey. I wanna hear more.” 

“Just keep her steady,” Robby responded against you, and his words sent vibrations tingling through your cunt, drawing out another heady moan. He continued to go back and forth from your clit to your hole before the first finger breached the tight entrance. “Oh, fuck, she’s tight,” he groaned, cock throbbing as he imagined sinking deep into you.

“Yeah?” Jack breathed. “Saved yourself just for us, sweets?” 

“No,” you moaned out, hips slightly rocking to alleviate the stretch. “Nooooo shit!” 

Robby sucked your clit as he began to pump his finger in and out, your innermost muscles clenching in uncontrollable spasms around the digit. Slowly, he felt you begin to loosen and suck him back in. Your head tilted back against Jack’s shoulder when he curled his finger upward, expertly finding your soft spot. Your back arched, and your hips raised into Robby’s face, making his nose catch against your clit. 

A wave of pleasure washed over you. Your once tense muscles had relaxed as endorphins fought to replace your terror, leaving you close to putty and pliant between them. Your legs widened instinctively when Robby added a second finger. 

“Oh—fuck!” you wailed out when both fingertips rubbed along your walls, slick gushing out with each thrust. “Robby!” 

“There we go,” Jack gleefully said, voice filled with nothing but content as he felt your body drape against him, all fight draining the closer they got you to cumming. “I told you that you were going to like it.” 

Somehow, Robby managed to get his fingers to reach further, and stars dotted your vision by how deep you could feel him. You didn’t want to imagine how deeper he could get with his cock—wait. 

You were giving in. You couldn’t; this was wrong. They killed people. You needed to get away fast. 

“Robby!” you parroted and followed with a moan as your lower belly simmered with something that was about to snap. “Gonna cum! Wanna cum!” 

Finally, you looked downward and met his lidded gaze through his eyebrows, lower face hidden behind your soft mound as he continued to lick and suck and graze your bundle of nerves with his teeth. He was close to sending you right over the edge, but there was one thing they both wanted to hear. 

They wanted you to beg for it. 

Jack finally unwrapped his arms from your middle to start palming at your breasts again. “C’mon, sweets. Mikey’ll make you cum, but you need to ask nicely for it first. Just say the magic words and—” He pinched and pulled and twisted your nipples, and a cry ripped right out of you, “—he’ll give it to you.” 

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, and somewhere deep, the need to push back flickered before being doused with a rush of arousal. Robby added a third finger and quickened his thrusts, causing a squelching noise to fill the room. 

Finally, after feeling the heat about to boil over in your core, you whimpered out the smallest, “Please.” 

Robby groaned against you, and bit down hard on your clit while curling upwards with stiff fingers. You came instantly, walls clenching rhythmically while Robby kept his pace steady to draw out your high for as long as possible. He watched the way your thighs shook and the way your arched beautifully, stomach curved out high as Jack continued to pull and grab at your breasts.  

You all but collapsed back against Jack’s chest when Robby finally pulled away, your sticky arousal coating his lips and chin and also the  three fingers that he stuck in his mouth. He held eye contact with you as he swirled his tongue between the slots. Jack huffed behind you. 

“I want a taste,” he demanded, and Robby quickly leaned over you, robes draping across your heaving chest, and kissed Jack. 

The loud slurping noises coming from over your head made you groan when your hole clenched around nothing. 

“Tastes good,” Jack muttered before licking across Robby’s lips. “Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart,” he addressed you even if he was currently occupied. He bit down, and Robby whined as a metallic tang filled their shared saliva. 

You lied there, and for a moment, your mind caught up to the situation at hand. Robby and Jack were the murderer—murderers? One to make the call, and the other to kill the student. Through the initial shockwaves of your orgasm, your stomach dipped, and you pushed up slightly, hoping they were both too into the other to miss the way you tried to inch across the bed. Jack pulled away suddenly and reached across, hands planting on both sides of your hips. Air rushed from your lungs at the sheer amount of his strength as he flipped you in one fluid motion and put you on your stomach. 

“No, fuck you,” you whined against the covers. “I’ve never—” 

Jack’s hands maneuvered you like a personal doll: knees pushing into the mattress and hips high in the air. He used his knees to knock yours wider to fit behind. You tried to push up on two hands, but he sent you right back down with a strong enough push between your shoulder blades. He held you down and pulled down the waistline of his sweatpants just enough to pull his cock out, lips parting in a hiss at the cold air enveloping his heated flesh. He sighed when he got a hand around himself, and the tip spurted out a line of precum. He used his palm to spread it across his length before he notched it at your entrance. 

Your body tensed at just the feeling of the large head already barely fitting even if Robby had managed to get three fingers in you. 

“Wait,” you said and gripped the comforter. “No, no, please wait, please, Jack, I’m a virgin, wait—” 

As though your pleas fell on deaf ears, Jack slowly started to sink into you. He shuddered when your warmth sucked in the first inch like your cunt needed him even if you thought you didn’t. 

“Fuck, sweets,” he hissed. “Robby said you were tight, but fucking—can’t believe I get to be your first.” 

You gasped at the stretch and intrusion, and he kept feeding himself into you even after the first bit of resistance. You’d mold perfectly around him soon enough. Your inner thighs shook and tensed as he pushed in further, and sweat collected at your brow line as your body heated under the pressure. You shut your eyes tight, but that only made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feeling of Jack’s massive cock bullying its way into you. 

Jack pulled back slightly, and the drag of the head along your walls had you gasping for air. 

“Too much for you?” Jack cooed as your whimpers hit his ears. “Shhhh, it’s okay, sweetheart, you can take it; I know you can.” He slowly pushed back in. “Take a deep breath for me, yeah? Big streeetch,” he drew out until the entirety of his length sat inside you. 

Your chest heaved as much as it could into the mattress, and your jaw dropped to take in lungfuls of air. You felt too full, like one wrong move and Jack would rip you in half. It only got worse when he started to thrust, and his tip started tapping against your cervix with no more room to push into. 

“J-Jack, f-fuck,” you stuttered, and tears once again streamed down your cheeks. “Please—fuck!” 

He rocked his hips against yours to the point that his balls slapped against your ass with every thrust. “You feel how deep I am inside you?” he grunted while his hands tightened around your hips. “Fucking taking all of me. Such a needy girl for my cock.”  

You bit down on the comforter, muffling your whines in an attempt to keep how much he was affecting you to yourself. 

“Oh, sweets, that won’t do,” Jack tutted and sank a hand into your roots, fingers curling around the strands and yanking your head upward with a yelp. Your hands scrambled to get under you to relieve some of the pressure, but Jack didn’t stop thrusting, and the motion had your breasts swinging in the air. “Mikey, give her mouth something to do.” 

You eyes widened because under Jack’s fucking, you somehow completely forgot about Robby. But now as he shrugged off the robe and unbuckled his pants to get his cock out, you started sobbing once more. 

“Please don’t do this. I loved you two,” you weakly confessed, mind warring against your needy body, but all that did was make Jack angle his hips on an upward thrust to hit that spot that made you wail. 

Robby fisted his cock while he raised your chin up, and his eyes softened for a split second. “You’ll just have to learn to love this version of us, baby, because we love you just like this.” 

His words hit you in the pit of your stomach, and suddenly his words broke something inside you.  

This was Jack and Robby, your two best friends who’d do anything for you. You couldn’t keep fighting against them if you tried.  

Your jaw chomped shut hard enough that your teeth clicked together, but both of them were one step ahead. Jack let go of your hair and snaked a hand between your thighs to start circling his fingertips against your clit as he continued to fuck into you at a slowed pace, really wanting to draw this all out. 

You couldn’t help the moan that flowed freely at the double stimulation attacking your cunt, and your jaw unhinged enough to let Robby slip the tip of his cock between your teeth. Instantly, the salty tang of his precum coated your mouth. He held the sides of your face and pushed in deeper. 

“Another deep breath, baby,” he groaned before he thrust into your mouth, giving you barely any warning to brace for his cock to fill your mouth. 

Your throat constricted in a gag, but a flick of Jack’s fingers around your bud paired with a harsh thrust pushed you forward until your nose right into Robby’s navel, his wiry happy trail filling your senses with his deep musky scent. Above you, Robby arched into the feeling and groaned into the air. You were now filled on both ends as you desperately tried to breathe in through your mouth. 

Robby’s cock nestled against your tongue and a few inches down your throat. He was definitely longer than Jack, but the redhead had a much thicker girth than the brunette. Jack planted both his hands on your shoulders and pulled you back until Robby almost slipped right out. You sputtered and coughed from the lack of air, and a string of saliva wiggled down from your mouth to the bed. 

In just a breath later, they resumed, and you moved upwards and backwards on them like a pig on a spit. You felt dizzy between the white-hot pleasure Jack gave your cunt and the fuzziness that took over when Robby slipped down your throat. Both men moaned and grunted when you seemed to clench down on them at the same time. 

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding when you said she was—shit—so fucking tight,” Jack moaned when your walls spasmed around him, nearly cumming from the feeling. “You any close, sweets? Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” His words went straight to your body, and your pussy tightened. “Oh, you like when I talk to you? Is that right?” 

You whined in response and nodded. . 

His fingers picked up against your throbbing clit to meet his thrusts, and your stomach flipped with the onslaught of never-ending ecstasy flowing through your lower half. He could tell you were close when you started leaking around him, inner thighs sticky and wet enough to transfer onto his when he pushed into you with wet plap, plap, plap, plaps. 

At your front, Robby continued lazily thrusting into your mouth with jerky motions, knowing that once Jack filled you, he’d have his turn to sink deep into your pussy. His head leaned back when he managed to make you gag, and your throat constricted and caught his tip. His large hand basically covered the back of your head. He kept you tucked against his navel even when you tried to jolt back to get more air. His soul thrummed at your panic, and he wondered if you could feel him get harder between your teeth. 

“Uh, uh, uh, uh,” sputtered around Robby with every draw and snap of Jack’s hips. 

“Just give in, sweetheart,” Jack whispered into your ear after slotting his stomach into the dip of your back. “Let us know that we’re making you feel so good.” Using two fingers, he pinched at your clit just as his hips began to stutter, a tell-tail sign that he was about to cum as well. “Fucking—shit—give it to me.” 

With a muffled cry, your body shook as your second orgasm ripped right through your body. Jack could barely fuck into you with how hard you were clamping down on him as your cunt wept and dribbled onto the bed. 

“Good—fucking—girl,” he punched out with three forceful thrusts. His hands planted back onto your hips, and his fingers curled white-knuckled into the skin so hard that you knew you’d have his fingerprints bruised into you by morning. His lower stomach pulsed when you began to whimper from overstimulation, and the sound had his cock throbbing. “Fuck, gonna fill you up, sweets. Gonna cum, gonna—fucking shit!” 

He thrusted hard once, twice, three times before he stilled, cock spurting release into your fluttering hole. He had squeezed his eyes shut, but he peaked through his eyelids to see Robby lean over with a hand between your legs. The air knocked right out of Jack’s lungs when your cunt clamped down on him again near the end, and he guessed that Robby had rubbed right against your clit. Jack’s chest heaved through his high. 

“Good job, sweetheart,” he muttered, giving little rocks of his hips to prolong his own pleasure, dick already softening just a bit. “You took me so well; so well.” 

His hands loosened from your shoulders, and without any strength left in your wobbly arms, you fell right back into the bed, body twitching in the aftershocks. A whimper climbed from deep in your chest when he finally pulled out. Your hole clenched and pushed out a thick glob of the mix of your rapidly cooling slick and his cum from your walls. 

You felt his finger drag along your folds to catch it just to push the mess right back in, drawing a mewl from your lips. Too tired and fucked out to care about what they did next, you let your hips lower until they rested against the bed. You heard some shuffling through the haze, and the next moment, your body flipped over. Each of your limbs tingled with warmth, and you let out the smallest giggle. 

You enjoyed that more than you’d ever admit to it. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” Robby asked as he took off the rest of his clothes just as Jack was taking off his crewneck but leaving his sweats still on. 

Your eyes fluttered shut. “Think it’s funny that you said you loved me, but you killed people,” you slurred. 

Jack and Robby shared a look before the taller took his place near your feet. 

“Stephen deserved it, baby,” Robby darkly muttered. “And all those boys who came before him.” 

Jack ran a soothing hand up and down your leg. “You’re our girl. We couldn’t let them live after how they acted towards you.” 

Like he did earlier, Robby parted your legs, leaning down for half a heartbeat to press a small kiss to your twitching clit before trailing open-mouthed kissed up your stomach until he reached your lips. As though all fight drained out of you with the last climax, you matched his advances and kissed him back, legs absentmindedly parting to let him hover over you. 

You were the one to break the kiss when he rutted his cock through your sopping, overly-sentivie folds. Your breath hitched high in your throat before breaking to give way to a shuddering moan. You tried to push him off, but his lips stayed glued to your neck. 

He reached down and positioned his cock head to your entrance, and he slipped in with no resistance, the added lubrication of Jack’s spend and your relaxed muscles adding to his eased thrusting. The back of your head pushed deep into the mattress, and you swore you could feel Robby all the way up into your throat. Through lidded eyes, you caught the sight of Jack already hard again in his hand, his hazel eyes watching intently as Robby started to fuck you. 

“Hnnngggg,” you moaned through your teeth. Robby’s tip hit your cervix with each forward movement. “Oh my—fucking—please, Robby!” 

“Only took two orgasms to get you begging, hm?” Jack asked, and he reached over to pet at your face while simultaneously fucking up into his hand. His fingers traced your lips before he plunged them into your mouth. His breath stuttered when you started softly sucking on his digits. 

“Whatever you’re doing up there,” Robby grunted, hips snapping into the heat of your walls, “she likes it. Her cunt’s clenching—shit—around me like a fucking vice, man.” 

Your high-pitched whine came out all muffled through Jack’s fingers. Without someone holding your hips down, you began to meet Robby’s thrusts in shallow grinds. Where Jack’s cock stretched you out to the point of bliss, you wanted Robby’s length to stay buried deep to constantly rub against your walls. He must have understood what you wanted, because he stopped with the full thrusts and ground against your hips. The thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbed deliciously against your swollen clit, and you whined at the added stimulation. 

After having climaxed twice so fast, it didn’t take long before you started to writhe under Robby’s frame, close to cumming without needing much. 

“Gonna—” You gagged when Jack pushed his fingers in farther. “Gonna,” you warbled. 

“Gonna cum already for us, baby?” Robby grunted. “Well, when you do, I wanna hear you cry my name, okay? Want your pretty mouth to spit it out.” 

You nodded shakily and tried to respond, but Jack’s fingers were too deep for anything eligible to come out. After thrusting them a bit more and getting them slick with your saliva, Jack pulled them out of your mouth. You squealed loudly when his fingers rubbed between your clit and where Robby was rutting into you. 

“Ooohhhh,” you breathed. “Jack! Feels good!” 

“Yeah? Does it feel better when I do this?” Suddenly, the pressure inside your walls exploded as Jack nudged his pointer finger into your hole, digit brushing against Robby’s cock to make you feel fuller than you ever had. “I bet that feels really good for you, sweetheart. Got your hole all nice and filled to the brim.” 

He tried to angle his wrist as best he could to press upward, and your thighs tried to close around his hand, but Robby’s hips kept them spread wide open. Needing to alleviate the pressure, you dug your feet into Robby’s lower back and arched into his chest. In one more movement to grind against Jack’s hand and Robby’s cock, you came instantly in a soundless scream. 

Robby folded over as your walls suddenly clamped down on him without warning. Your chest shook in a deep sob as the pleasure almost became too much. But through the shivers and pinpricks of euphoria, you remembered what Robby had asked. 

“Michael!” you screamed, hips jolting uncontrollably against him. “Micahel! Michael!” 

Like some Pavlovian effect, Robby groaned loudly with stuttering hips, cock spurting with hot waves of cum deep inside and fusing his and Jack’s cum to your cunt. No matter who you else might fuck in life, they’d always know that their cum was in you first. 

“Such a good baby,” Robby spat, mind barely keeping up with the feeling of your warmth entrapping his cock. “So smart for remembering. Fucking love it when you say my name. Fucking love you.” 

Your eyes had squeezed shut yet again right before you felt splatters across your face and heard a plethora of curses and moans from Jack above you. Some of his cum painted across your eyes, and you could only lie there and take his spend to your face. 

For a moment, you ceased to exist on the bed, mind floating blissfully somewhere else as you stewed in the slowing waves of your probably final orgasm. It wasn’t until you felt a warm, wet towel against your face did you open your eyes again. You blinked rapidly to clear them of the gloss that had taken over, and Jack cooed softly as he wiped his drying cum from your cheeks. 

“There she is,” he whispered. “There’s our girl. You did so well for us, sweetheart. Can’t believe we got to finally do this with the girl we love.” 

There it was again: their declarations of love. 

You wondered if it was all a ploy, but with their soft touches and slow roll of your pliant body to settle between them as sleep licked at your body, something settled inside your chest. Sure, they’d killed people, but they’d been right about what they said. Stephen deserved it, deserved what they did to him along with all the other boys who’d made you uncomfortable before meeting their ultimate demise. 

They’d done it all for you . . . because they loved you. 

Your lip twitched into a soft smile as you relaxed into the blanket Jack tossed over the three of you. 

“I love you both, too.” 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Morning light was the first thing to cause your closed eyelids to glow as your body slowly woke up. Instead of gently being lolled from your sleep, you became instantly aware of where you were and more importantly who you were between. Sometime after falling asleep, you’d managed to tuck yourself under Robby’s chin while Jack clung to your back, their shared heat making the bed feel like a furnace. You shifted. One leg slipping from between Jack’s, and your hips tilting away from Robby’s. 

Yet, you’d barely moved a few inches when Jack was the second to wake up. He muttered something sleepily before tightening his arms around your middle. 

“Don’t go,” he slurred, voice still thick with sleep. 

“I need to pee,” you whispered back, but all you really wanted was to retreat to the bathroom to wrap your mind around what had happened last night: their confessions, them fucking you, you confessing your love for both of them. If you stayed any longer, the dream of last night might become reality, and you weren’t ready to face the possibility that you might become their next victim. 

Robby shuffled slightly at your front and nuzzled his cheek into the top of your head. “Pee here. Pretty sure Jack’s into that,” he sighed, almost like he was seconds away from falling back asleep, however, his eyes shot open when Jack whacked him in the face with a spare pillow. 

“I don’t have a piss kink,” the redhead groaned, not even opening his hazel eyes. “I just think it’s hot.” 

“Then it constitutes as a piss kink, kid.” 

Jack pushed up with one arm while rapidly blinking the sleep away. “Can we not kink shame your boyfriend, please? We get one morning with her between us, and you start spouting bullshit nonsense.” 

“Guys,” you whined. “Enough.” Your head tilted down until your forehead connected with Robby’s chest. “Let’s just get this all over with.” 

Jack paused with another pillow mid-way in the air, fingers letting go to let it drop down to the bed. He slightly curled around your shoulder and tried to meet your eye. “Get over with what?” 

Robby twirled a piece of your hair around a finger. “What’s going on in that head, baby?” 

“I already know what will happen next. You’re going to tell me that last night was a fluke, and I’m about to show up on the news as another dead body,” you spat. “So, please, make it painless and get on with it.” 

Over your head, Robby and Jack shared a look of concern before Jack plastered himself along your back. 

“No, sweetheart, no,” he cooed. “That’s like the exact opposite of what’s going to happen. We weren’t lying when we said we loved you.” 

You shook your head and closed your eyes. You didn’t believe them. How could you after all they’ve done? 

“Listen, baby,” Robby started as he pushed back to make you look at him, “Jack and I love you so much, and the thought of us never being able to have you pushed us over the edge. It’s like an itch we can’t scratch unless we get rid of the problems.” 

“And the problems were all those boys who either thought they had a chance or made you uncomfortable by thinking you wanted them back,” Jack growled, and the noise went right to your core. “We fucking love you so much, and it was agony to see them hurt you, so we hurt them in return—like, take them out entirely.” 

“No one messes with you unless they want to mess with us,” Robby stated. “But we’d never hurt you, baby. I think we’d both rather kill the other if we ever did.” 

They both waited in silence for you to answer, and for a moment, they thought that you were able to push away, grab your clothes, and run out the door with how heavy you were breathing. But then, they both noticed the way your thighs shifted together, and it dawned on them that you were into this—them killing men just for you. 

“You really mean that?” you finally asked, voice meek and scared for them to laugh and yell psych! 

“We’d let you kill us if we didn’t, sweetheart” Jack said, voice steady and strong. “Our hearts beat only for the other and you.” He placed a kiss on your bare shoulder before lightly biting into your skin. 

Robby inhaled sharply. “We’ll stop . . . if you want us to. No more games, no more murders—” 

“Unless you want us to,” Jack added. “Say the word, and you’ll have a heart on a platter if you wish.” 

A loud groan rumbled through your chest, and your hips jutted back against Jack’s front. “You two can’t say stuff like that.” 

“Why not?” Robby asked, and you could hear the smirk in his words. 

“Becasuse—” You squeaked when Jack suddenly palmed at your breasts under the covers. “Because it makes me feel . . .”

“Good?” Jack filled in, but you shook your head. 

“Loved. It makes me feel loved, and it’s fucking crazy to say that, because you’re willing to murder people if I ask for it.” 

Your thighs parted when you felt Robby try to prod between them, and a lazy sigh exhaled from your lips as he slowly started to circle your clit through your puffy folds that were still slick from last night’s activities. 

“We’re willing to do a lot more than murder,” he muttered, lips pressing into every inch of your face. “But we have you now, and unless anyone thinks they can get through us, we won’t need to put any more bodies in the ground.” 

“Promise?” you asked with a pant catching the end of the word. 

“Promise,” Jack grunted, hips bucking into your ass. 

“Promise,” Robby echoed. 

“Okay, okay,” you said. “I was also telling the truth when I said that I loved you both. Just wanting to make it clear that this goes both ways.” 

“Good,” Jack said as he placed two hands on both sides of your hips. “Now, flip on your front. I wanna feel your cunt cum on my cock again.” 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · 

Night was not the best place to be hanging around a parking lot in the middle of Pittsburgh. Unfortunately for Brendon Park, he found himself doing just that around an hour after his shift ended at 9 pm, eyes narrowed at his slashed tires on his brand new Porsche. Someone had done this, and all he needed to do was wait for the stupid tow truck and security officer to come help him out. He could have left it for the morning and gotten an uber, but Park was a proud man. 

And yet, what did they say about pride? It commeth before the downfall. 

He was so busy huffing and puffing while stalking back and forth along his car that he failed to hear the twin footsteps rapidly approaching behind him. He didn’t even know he wasn’t alone until a white-hot pain in his side froze him in his tracks. His torso twisted, but that just dug the scalpel in deeper. He stumbled to get away, but all he was met with was another parallel stab to his other side. 

Automatically, Park applied pressure over the blood already soaking through his scrub top. He looked down and hissed before looking for his assailant. He squinted into the dark, and his breath hitched when twin robed figures stepped out into the small bit of light coming from a close to burning out lamp. It was almost like the two were from a slasher movie in the 90s with their hollowed-eyed halloween masks and glittering robes that donned their bodies, keeping Park from knowing who had just stabbed him twice. 

“What the fuck?” he hissed as he backed up into his Porsche’s driver door, hand trying to grip the handle but failing because of his blood’s slickness. “I’ll give you money or whatever the fuck you want but stay right over there or I swear I’ll call the cops.” 

One of them tilted his head, and Park felt the dead eyes stare right through his soul. 

He watched as the other—the taller one—raised a box to where his mouth would be behind the mask. 

“You wanna know what we want, Brendon Park?” he asked, voice distorted through the modulator. 

“I’ll give it to you,” Park grunted, the pain blooming up his sides and into his chest. They must have hit one of his kidneys and possibly an organ with how fast the anguish was spreading, making it hard to breathe in and out. 

The taller looked down at the shorter, and their eyes met before they nodded. Park’s eyes widened when they both produced longer knives than the shorter ones they stabbed him with. The modulator rose again, and what he said next sent a chill right through Park’s stomach. 

“We want to see what your insides look like.” 

Without a beat, the two robed figures pounced on him, and in just a few minutes, Park slunked down to the concrete, leaving a painted bloodied smear across his car’s door. With satisfaction pumping through their veins, the two watched as he took his last wheezing breath before dying in a puddle consisting of almost all his blood. His body wouldn’t be found until the morning with stab wounds littering his body. His fault for parking away from everyone else in fear of his car getting scratched. 

Only when the two were sure they were the only breathing beings in the lot, they ripped off the masks, and Jack huffed loudly. 

“Murder was so much easier in med school when I wasn’t missing a fucking leg,” he grumbled while shifting his weight onto his real leg. He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked salt-and-pepper curls.

“Tell me about it,” Robby answered. “If he were any shorter, my knees would have given out if I had to bend down.” He kicked at Park’s leg and smirked when the body recoiled slightly. “But man did that feel good.” 

“I’m kinda glad he decided to go off on her. Last mistake he’d ever make, but nothing beats the rush of this.” 

The memory of Park berating you in the middle of their ER flashed through their minds. They'd seen the way you flinched under his words in a way they hadn't seen in decades. They'd wanted to kill him right then and their, but Robby and Jack weren't ones to break their promises, however, the next time all three of you had the day off, you told them what you wanted between moans as Robby sandwiched you between his and Jack's chest.

"I want him gone," you had whimpered out, forehead pressing into Jack's collar bone while Robby rocked you back and forth on his cock.

"Want who gone, sweets?" Jack questioned before grunting loudly when his tip notched against your clit.

"Park—shit—I want him gone."

You wanted them to kill Park, and they were never ones to disappoint.

Robby went to say something, but the shrill of his iPhone had him digging and floundering through the drapes of robes. When he managed to bunch the fabric, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone, answering it without a second glance. 

“Hello? Michael Robinavitch speaking.” 

“Do you want to play a game?” a voice answered from the speaker, and the two glanced at each other with devilish, knowing smiles. 

“Depends on what type of game it is, sweetheart,” Jack responded, crossing his arms against his chest. 

“I wanna know how much it’ll take to make you two scream.” Your small laugh followed, you not being able to take this as seriously as the two had back in school. 

Robby brought his phone up closer to his mouth. “I don’t know the exact answer, but I think you can start with being naked and face down on the bed by the time we get back.” 

“I think that can be arranged. Get home soon, or I might have to play the game myself.” 

“I don’t need to “take a minute”, I’m fine.” You grumble, moving past the living room to take the stairs. Before you can Rick grabs your arm.

“Listen to him, kid.” He grits out, clearly working to manage his frustration. You roll your eyes, looking at Daryl expectantly.

“You’ve had a mouth on ya all day. If yer upset y’gotta let us help. Make ya feel good.”

“I haven’t had a mouth—“

“You told Abraham to go fuck himself.” Rick says flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He was bein’ a dick.” You bite back.

“Hon, c’mon,” Daryl sounds a bit more desperate now. “Jus’ let us—“

“What, fuck the attitude outta me? Spank me ‘till I remember to mind my manners?” You’re taunting them, it’s obvious by the way your arms cross over your own chest to mimic Rick, your hip cocked.

Daryl takes a sharp breath, eyes flitting over to the other man whose patience is very clearly wearing thin. He swallows. “It don’t have to be like that, if you’d jus’—“

“Y’know what? You can both go fuck yourselves too!”

It was all because of a stupid joke Toph made at dinner; one that everyone took lightly but you.

“So since Aang’s still alive..” she started with a dirty snicker at the man’s absence, quite tipsy, playfully nudging Katara’s side. “That means the Airbenders could be brought back. Think you and him could repopulate the Air nation, Sugar Queen? Have little Airbender babies filling up the temples?”

“What the hell— No!” Katara shoves her off, flustered and embarrassed, groaning in defeat at the others’ laughs.

Zuko offers her a timid smile, his words a little slurred from the drinking. “But it’s true, no? That would be a very heroic act, Katara.”

“Drop it, you guysss..” she sighs, downing one more shot, Toph’s noisy cackling mingling with Sokka’s until they’re interrupted by their synchronized hiccuping, which only causes them to laugh even louder.

Your grip tightens around your glass. You were glad nobody was looking at you; you wouldn’t know how to justify the glare you were throwing their way.

Images of Aang and Katara naked and tangled under the sheets suddenly plagued your mind, and you couldn’t tell if they were the cause of your headache or if that was the work of your sixth drink.

You huff, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the thoughts off. This was ridiculous.

You push yourself up from the floor, and that piques Katara’s attention. She looks up at you, a little worried. “Leaving already? Is everything okay, sweetie?”

A twinge of guilt tugs at your heartstrings at the genuine worry in her voice. You give her a small nod, and your best attempt at a smile, “Just had too much to drink, don’t worry. I’ll go upstairs, to check on Aang.”

“Gooood,” Toph drawls through a fit of giggles, raising her hand to give you a thumbs up while Sokka refills her mug. “Tell him that Katara’s gonna bring back the Air nation while you’re at it. Gonna give him loooots of babies. Pregnant Katara, pregnant with little Airbenders. Buuunch of ‘em.”

Your lips purse tightly, and as much as you wanted to, you refrain from throwing your glass at her face. “.. Alright. Goodbye.”

You walk off, Katara’s exasperated denials and Toph’s increasingly dirty jokes fading into a dull noise as you storm up the stairs.

You don’t even know why this was upsetting you so badly. Sure, you had a little crush on Aang but.. it’s not like he was yours. He probably would never be.

You weren’t even a bender; so why in the world would he ever pick you over Katara?

Sweet, pretty, skilled Katara. Unbearably perfect Katara.

Everyone in the group pictured them together for good reason; she was the perfect match for him. And you did love them both a lot as your dear friends.. so why were you this worked up?

Tears prick at your eyes when you stand in front of Aang’s door. You quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand, bewildered at the fact that you were actually crying over this.

You sigh. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, this was all the alcohol.

After a few more minutes of mulling over your words and composing yourself, you knock on the door softly. Three knocks.

“Come in!” His voice, breezy like always but a little weighed down by the exhaustion of night work, shoots right through your chest like an arrow. You suck in a sharp breath, then slowly slide the door open.

“Ohh, thank Spirits you’re here.” He practically whines as he tips his head back against his chair, limp as a ragdoll. “Dumb Avatar work won’t end, I swear I thought I was about to die from boredom. You’re my savior.”

You force a small smile and walk over to his desk, setting down your glass with a bit of sake left, that he wastes no time in stealing and chugging down in a second.

He exhales with a wide grin, very pleased, melting back against his chair. “Really, really my savior.”

You stare at him silently. Your gaze lingers on the pretty arch of his eyebrows, the light blush already tinting his cheeks because he had the liquor tolerance of a two year old, the adorable twinkle in those tired, happy doe eyes..

You look further down, noting the squeeze of his too-big back against the borrowed chair, and the way his legs twisted uncomfortably to fit under the somehow small-for-him desk.

Downsides of a bigger build, huh. Your mouth dries up a little.

It physically hurt that you couldn’t have him.

His puzzled, sad frown snaps you out of your haze. “You’re not even listening to me.. am I boring you?”

“Oh, no, no, not at all. I’m sorry.” You wave your hands wildly, embarrassed and grateful that he seemingly didn’t pick up on your inappropriate leering. “I just.. just..”

The more you look into his eyes, the heavier your heart feels.

Your friends’ words keep ringing in the back of your head, the filthy images of him and Katara together in different positions refusing to leave your tipsy mind.

Spirits, you felt like you could cry again. Damn you, inhibition-lowering alcohol. And damn you, Toph.

Once again, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by him. His large hand wraps around yours, his features scrunched in worry at the sight of your teary eyes. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Now was not the time for his stupid nicknames. This was so unfair to your poor heart.

“I am. It’s just.. this dumb thing that happened earlier.” You look down at your hand in his, your eyes welling up much to your embarrassment and dismay.

His fingers gently curl around yours, urging you to look at him. “What dumb thing? Please tell me.”

‘No.’ You wanted to say. ‘It concerns you, so how could I tell you?’ You tell yourself.

Staying silent or lying was the smart idea.

..

Maybe you would’ve been smarter sober.

With the alcohol in your system, and those beautiful eyes boring into yours so intimately in the dark of the night, the moonlight reflecting in his pupils.. you don’t feel the words spill out of your lips until you hear them yourself.

“It’s nothing. Just a joke Toph made,” with each syllable that left your mouth, your brain desperately tried to hit the brakes and shut you up, regret already pooling in your gut as you helplessly watched yourself commit the stupidest mistake of your life. “About.. you and Katara. Talked about you two.. uhm.. repopulating the Air nation, or whatever. Like.. Airbenders aren’t totally extinct since you.. you’re still here. You could, y’know, make more—”

“I-I get the gist,” he interjects, blushing while his grip tightens around your hand. He sighs lowly and shakes the thought off. “Of course it’s Toph. But.. I’m still lost.”

He tilts his head, blinking up at you so sweetly you almost melt. “I think I get the joke. Dirty, sure. But I’m not sure why it’s sad?”

“Sad?” You answer back, just as puzzled. “It’s not sad, though?”

He nods, both of you like lost puppies. “I know. So why is it making you cry?”

Fuck.

Your addled brain racks itself to come up with a reason fast enough, but oh, who were you kidding?

“It’s just..” you look down at the empty glass, wishing it was full so you could down it and hopefully choke on it. “..I don’t know.”

Could you have picked a worse answer? Hard to tell.

A long silence settles between you two, and you can feel his heavy, curious gaze on you without even needing to look at him. You regret doing so, because with the way his eyes suspiciously narrow, his oblivious mind exhausting the possible explanations for your state, you can see him work closer up to the conclusion.

“Welp,” you force an awkward chuckle, patting his hand before sliding yours off his grasp and taking a few steps back, hoping to make it out of here before he figures it out. “I’m sorry to bother you, Aang. It’s nothing really, I think it’s just the drinks getting to me. You know how they always make me soo emotional. Anyway, I just wanted to check up on you, so I’ll get going now.”

You turn around and pick up your pace, but before your fingers find the knob, a gust of wind pushes the door just right out of your reach.

“Wait.” His voice sends a shiver up your spine, cold sweat suddenly rolling off your temples. “Are you..?”

He trails off again, and your limbs grow shakier. This was such a dumb idea, why did you even have to go up to his office? Dumb, dumb, dumb.

You take a deep breath and take one more step to the door, but this time it’s slammed shut with a sharper gust.

“Were you..” You can hear the scraping of his chair as he stands up, your heart sinking down to your ass. “.. Jealous?”

And, unfortunately, there it was.

Even then, knowing Aang, you could’ve still flipped it around. Laughed and played it off. Told him he was wrong. He would’ve believed you.

But, unable to even look up from the door knob, the dumbest answer rolls out of your heavy tongue, a tipsy lightheadedness washing over you for a second. “.. Yes.”

At this point, you didn’t even care anymore. It couldn’t possibly get any worse than this. Maybe now he could laugh at how weird you were being and send you off, finally putting off the burning flames in your chest.

You wait for the longest time, neither of you moving, and right when you expect him to burst out giggling, a firm command escapes his lips instead. “Turn around.”

You blink, dazed.

You slowly turn around, and your breath hitches at the sight before you. Aang standing with his palms flat against the desk, his chest silently heaving, wisps of steam slipping out of his parted lips, more redness across his cheeks, broad and bulky and scary with his no longer sparkling eyes.

There was only what you could describe as heat in them. Not from anger, no, but something awfully akin to lust that had a foreign heat pooling deep in your lower tummy.

Was the alcohol making you see things? Was this just wishful thinking?

“Come here,” he orders again, but it’s shaky this time. Your feet comply before you can process it, and you feel your guts twisting with dread and hopeful anticipation.

Spirits, did you make him uncomfortable? You’d never seen him like this before.

When you finally stand before him, only the desk separating you, your fingers curl around your skirt in guilt. “Aang, I’m so sorry. You already have enough on your plate, I shouldn’t have said anything— Mmf!!”

You’re cut off with a rough kiss, sudden and heated from the get-go, big hands cupping your cheeks as his lips smush against yours in a sloppy mess. You want to make sense of it, but it’s hard to care when your brain’s this fuzzy and you’re living out one of your nightly fantasies.

Neither of you want to stop, breathlessly lapping at each other’s warm tongues and moaning at the unfamiliar feel, swapping sweet sake-flavored saliva.

He reluctantly breaks it with a wet pop, gazing down at you so desperately it had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Don’t move.” Aang whispers, trailing around the table to stand behind you, the order nailing your feet down to the floor. A soft gasp slips from your kiss-bitten lips when his hands tentatively rest on your hips, his breath hot against your ear as his buff body presses against your back. “Is this what you wanted?”

With his touch slowly travelling down to your thighs, all words die out on the tip of your tongue and you can only nod, swallowing thickly.

“You were jealous.” He states again, his voice low and gravelly, like the fact wasn’t embarrassing enough being said the one time. “You’d rather Toph made that joke about you, correct?”

You would’ve answered that, if something huge didn’t poke you in the ass the next second.

Heavens, what the hell was— Oh.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Aang murmurs into your ear, giving your thighs reassuring rubs as he grows unbearably hard against your backside. “I don’t want to.. repopulate the Air nation with Katara, if that’s any consolation. I don’t.”

The words do soothe you a little, but the dirty images are burnt into the back of your eyelids, looping in your mind like a cruel parade, making you shudder against him. “Thank you. I just.. I keep imagining it, and it kills me. Just imagining you on top of her and fucking her— Ah!”

You squeal, startled, when you’re swiftly spun around with not so breezy hands, facing his towering figure with a lick of your bottom lip.

His hands hook around the hem, sliding his shirt off to reveal his muscular frame in all its glory, your gaze sliding down the arrow tattoos, but you’re not given much time before the same hands slide down to the back of your thighs to lift you up on the desk.

He sweeps off the paperwork, crowded between your legs, and you can’t help but moan at how much your thighs have to spread just to wrap around his waist.

So big. In every sense of the word.

“This— Is this what you imagine?” The question’s breathless, lowering himself to look at you and you throb at the eye contact. So does he, judging from the twitching you feel against your inner thigh.

You let out a quivery sigh, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he leans even closer, his steamy breath mingling with yours. “..Kind of..”

He nods at that, glances around hesitantly, then decides to push you flat down on the desk. It’s firm but not rough, your head landing softly on the hardwood thanks to an air cushion he swirled up. “How about this?”

You’re about to reply with a “maybe” when wild fingers swiftly fumble with his belt, lowering his pants enough for him to spring up— WOAH!

Your face is set ablaze, quickly looking away, eyes blown wide open in a mix of shock, dread, and helpless arousal.

His hands find your hips once more, tugging your skirt up to reveal your plush thighs and a patch of your lacies that has him choking on a gasp.

He grabs your jaw, turning your head back to face him, desire and uncertainty swimming in his pretty brown eyes. “Are you.. sure about this? There’s no going back.”

“Please,” it slips out of you with a needy gasp, your legs wrapping around his waist while your hands roam over his wide shoulders. “Yes.”

With the blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear his whispered word, but from the way his face scrunches up, you assume it was a curse.

Your skirt is fully ridden up with a gust of wind, one that (unintentionally or not) flicks up against your clothed folds and has you shivering in his grasp.

Thick fingers tug the delicate fabric to the side, and he moans in awe at the sight of your drooling slit, already so ready for him.

“So wet,” he comments as he admires the slick coating your glistening cunt, not ripping his eyes off it like it was a piece of art. The prolonged staring makes you self-conscious and embarrassed, but when your thighs shift just a little bit to hide yourself, firm hands keep them separated and he looks up at you, mildly offended. “No, don’t hide from me. You asked for this.”

“Well, I didn’t think your staring was on the menu,” you sputter out, flushed.

“I’m sorry, she’s just so beautiful.” He sighs softly, and your breath is knocked out of your lungs when he starts tracing your folds. “I can’t believe you’re already this wet. You wanted me this badly?”

His questions are genuine, but they only increase your shame. Aang senses that, and so decides to finally give you a taste of what you want.

“Fuck—!” Your back archs off the desk with a yelp, two of his abnormally big digits prodding at your sopping wet hole. It takes some time, but when they finally slip inside you, your pussy greedily sucks them in, earning a pleased grunt from him. “Good girl. Gripping me so nicely.”

It feels illegal to even hear such words from him outside the fake scenarios you touched yourself to at night. More desperate mewls are coaxed out of you when he starts scissoring you open, the pads of his fingertips pressing skillfully against your spongy spot and curling upwards.

“Need to get you ready for me,” he breathes out, stretching you out with a third finger that has you ferally clawing at his back. “So you can take me.”

Steam is wafting off him as he pounds his fingers in and out of your tight walls, unable to look away from your fluttering cunt. His calloused thumb comes to swipe over your perked up clit, a wail ripping through your throat. The sound has him lifting his eyes to check on you, and the sight of tears filling the rim of your eyes, your lips contorted into a quivering pout, your hair pooling so prettily around your head, sends a hot jolt of arousal down to his cock.

“Spirits, you—you’re so pretty.” He babbles dazedly, dragging another scream out of you with a thrust of his fingers. “Pretty, pretty girl. I need you now.”

With a few more rubs to your puffy clit, he suddenly pulls away, your arms tightening around him with a pitiful cry.

“No no, don’t cry, please.” Aang wipes the tears off your eyes, stealing a warm kiss from your puckered lips. “I’ll take care of you now baby, I promise.”

His entire body burned hot with his firebending, but especially his hands; scalding as they slid up the back of your thighs to push your legs up against your chest in a mating press.

But even his hot touch paled in comparison to the heat between your thighs.

He exhales through his nose, one of his hands ditching you to wrap around his girthy cock, lazily fisting himself as the tip flushed an angrier red, veins forking up the length.

You gasp when he lines himself up, the leaking tip gliding over your slit like he owned it, and your eyes roll back at its pure thickness.

You didn’t even know if you could take him.

He lowers himself over you, his bare chest pressed flush against yours as he litters your neck with warm open-mouthed kisses. “Ready for me?”

He takes your pathetic whimper as a “yes”, swallowing it with his tongue while he slowly pushes in.

His pre-cum mixes with your slick in filthy squelches, and you both moan loudly when he finally pushes through the tight ring of muscle, plunging into your velvety walls.

You’d think it’d be easier with him prepping you with three of his fingers, but the big stretch was still scream-worthy.

“I—I can’t,” he whines against your lips after some minutes pass by, frowning down at you so sweetly. “I really want to be gentle and good to you, b-but it’s so hard. With how you feel around me, I just wanna— wanna— ugh, lose control. You— feel so good..”

His words have your organs collapsing against each other, your cunt fluttering around him with arousal at the thought of rough sex with the sweet, tender Avatar before you.

How could you resist such a nasty demand made with the most adorable look?

“Lose it.” You whisper into his mouth, feeling his entire back tense up under your hands. You pull him in for a brief kiss, “I want you to lose it.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, your eyes widening at the flickering of his tattoos. “D—Don’t say that.”

His slow thrusts grow faster and rougher, each inch splitting you further and completely numbing your tipsy mind, broken moans ripping through your hoarse throat when he bottoms out.

You try to adjust to his size, the lingering pain only increasing your pleasure as he rolls his hips into the flesh of your ass, his grip deadly tight around your folded thighs. “Spirits—”

The desk clatters under you, mewling in tandem while he tries to fight the Avatar state, flashes of blinding white forcing you to shut your eyes but they were just as quickly forced back open at the animal pounding that accompanied them.

Holy mother of God, you could feel him in your womb.

“Is—” He grunts, suddenly ripping your top off with his teeth to bare your chest to his hungry gaze. You’re taken off guard, choking on your startled yelp when he hikes your hips up to deepen his angle and fuck you harder, his eyes drinking in the bounce of your gorgeous tits. “Is this what you imagined?”

You could hardly tell if it was Aang anymore, tears streaming down your face and hiccuping sobs while his wild thrusts bruised your cervix.

You feel him twitch inside you, his pace stuttering for a second, and that’s when you know he’s close.

He leans down to capture one of your peaked nipples between his teeth, nipping and licking at the sensitive bud as he reveled in your whiny cries. His svelte fingers take care of the neglected one, twisting and rolling it while his tongue flicked harshly against your left.

When his lips close on it in a sucking motion, your mind goes blank and your eyes cross, drool leaking out of your mouth when you open it to beg for release.

With your pleading and the way your cunt lovingly squeezes around his throbbing dick, he completely loses it and brutally picks up the pace.

“Gonna.. gonna cum,” he slurs, latching off your chest to gaze down at your wrecked face. “Pump you full of me. That’s what you want, right?”

He takes your loud moan to his words as approval, drunk on your noises as he fucks you with the stamina that could only belong to the Avatar.

“Fuck, need— need to breed you.” He turns into an incoherent mess, each thrust fucking your earlier scenarios right out of your head, Katara’s image gradually being replaced by yours. Your nails draw blood, scratching down his muscular back while he gets off to the thought of knocking you up, his fingers sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit. “My—my sweet girl, gonna give me lots of little Airbenders. You want that, don’t you? Stuffed full of my cum, bearing my children. You’ll make me a daddy.”

If his cock destroying your cervix wasn’t enough to make you cum, his words definitely did it.

Your orgasm crashes over you, your toes curling in the air, gushing all over him with a broken cry and so does he, the feel of your walls clamping down on him so tightly tipping him over the edge as hot ropes of thick cum paint your insides white.

It’s so warm — and so much — you almost cum again from the sheer sensation.

“Gonna get you pregnant,” he breathlessly pants, angling your hips up for none of his cum to slip out of you. Your pussy spasms around him, thoroughly milking him dry and you don’t know if it’s just the tipsiness, but you could swear you felt all his warm seed seep through your cervix and fill up your womb.

You’re both drenched in sweat, fighting for air. He gives you a few more thrusts for good measure, draining himself out entirely, eliciting an overstimulated mewl from you, before reluctantly pulling out of what he would later consider his home.

Dazed, he watches your swollen folds clench around nothing, and when he sees some of his cum dribble out of them, he tuts and fingers it back inside you. He does this for the next minutes, making sure you’ve taken all of him, appreciating your needy squirms and whimpers each time.

When he’s satisfied with himself, he exhales deeply, all his earlier savageness gone for an affectionate look in his eyes as he gazes down at you. He gives you a fond smile, pressing his large palm flat against where your womb is. “You’ll grow me some Airbenders in here, won’t you? Birth me back my nation?”

Too fucked out to answer, you nod weakly, limp in his grasp. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, slow and warm and wet. “I can’t wait. In some months, everyone will know what happened here. They’ll know who you belong to, who you craved tonight. You’ll be all big and swollen with my babies.”

The thought has you furiously blushing, your arms wrapping tighter around his shoulders. “W-Well.. it’s still too early to know if I’ll be preg—”

“Oh you will be.” He answers with a cheeky grin, patting your belly again. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

You blink at him, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips too. “But that’s not how it works. There’s no guarantee that I’m pregnant, even if you know what you’re doing.”

At that, he groans, tucking his face into the crook of your neck while his heavy body rests over yours. “But I’m the Avatar. My stuff’s gotta be special. I’m sure it worked, you’re definitely knocked up.”

You return his tired hug, letting out a soft exasperated sigh. “.. Sure, Aang.”

Meanwhile, everyone downstairs remained blissfully ignorant of what the hell happened a floor above them, all busy with their drinks and tipsy banter.

All, except for a very drunk earthbender that heard everything through the walls. Who was thankfully way too drunk to properly tell the others, only shouting garbled congratulations to the ceiling that nobody bothered to understand. “Niiiice. Good going, Twinkle toes. You lucky dog.”

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

* i’d be popping out babies left and right with this yummy bald man.. if you see any mistakes leave me alone i hate proofreading.

"Theo and I are going to the library."

"Sounds nice."

"See you later!"

"Astoria and I are taking a walk around the lake."

"Aww."

"You two deserve it."

"Pansy and Blaise disappeared after dinner."

"They're probably shopping."

"Good for them."

Mattheo frowned.

"...Does anyone else think Reader says 'have fun' a lot?"

Lorenzo shrugged.

"She's supportive."

───

She was.

Always.

Whenever someone mentioned plans...

You'd smile.

Wish them a good time.

Then quietly make your own.

No complaints.

No guilt trips.

No pouting.

Just...

"...Have fun."

───

It wasn't until three weeks later that Theo finally noticed.

"...Has anyone actually invited Reader?"

Silence.

Mattheo blinked.

"..."

"...I thought you did."

Theo looked up from his book.

"I thought you did."

Draco frowned.

"I assumed Daphne had."

Daphne looked horrified.

"I thought Astoria invited her."

Astoria looked equally confused.

"...I thought Pansy did."

Pansy pointed at Blaise.

"I thought he did."

Blaise slowly looked at Lorenzo.

Lorenzo gasped dramatically.

"YOU ALL THOUGHT I WAS RESPONSIBLE?"

"..."

"...Fair point."

───

Saturday morning.

The common room buzzed with excitement.

"So..."

Mattheo stretched.

"Hogsmeade?"

Everyone nodded.

You looked up from your book.

"Oh!"

"Have fun!"

You smiled brightly.

"I'll probably stay here and finish this essay."

Silence.

No one moved.

You looked around.

"...What?"

Mattheo frowned.

"...You're coming."

You laughed.

"No, it's okay."

"No," Draco said.

"It isn't."

You blinked.

"...It's your day."

"Our day."

"Mhm."

"I don't want to interrupt."

Another silence.

This one...

Longer.

Pansy slowly sat beside you.

"...Interrupt what?"

"You know."

You smiled awkwardly.

"You all deserve little dates together."

Astoria tilted her head.

"...And?"

"And..."

You looked down at your book.

"...I don't want to be the person who's always there."

The room fell completely silent.

Theo quietly closed his book.

"Reader."

You looked up.

"When have we ever asked you not to come?"

"...Never."

"When have we ever looked annoyed because you joined us?"

"...Never."

"So why do you think you're interrupting?"

You opened your mouth.

Then closed it again.

"...I don't know."

───

Mattheo sat on the arm of your chair.

"I like going shopping with Daphne."

Daphne nodded.

"I like going to cafés with Astoria."

Astoria smiled.

"I like reading with Theo."

Theo gave a small nod.

"I like wandering Zonko's with Lorenzo."

Lorenzo grinned.

"I like getting dragged into whatever ridiculous idea Pansy has."

Pansy smirked.

"You usually volunteer."

"I do."

Mattheo looked at you.

"But..."

He smiled softly.

"None of those plans are complete if you're missing."

───

You stared at him.

"...Really?"

"Really."

───

Draco sighed.

"I thought it was obvious."

"It clearly wasn't," Blaise replied.

───

Pansy reached over and took your book out of your hands.

"Question."

"What?"

"If I invited everyone except you..."

"How would you feel?"

You frowned immediately.

"...Sad."

"Why?"

"Because I'd think you didn't want me there."

Pansy nodded once.

"Exactly."

The realization hit you all at once.

"..."

"...Oh."

───

Astoria smiled gently.

"We've never gone anywhere because we wanted to get away from you."

"We go because we enjoy spending time together."

"And..."

She squeezed your hand.

"You're part of 'together.'"

───

Lorenzo suddenly gasped.

"WAIT."

Everyone looked at him.

"You've been missing free snacks."

You blinked.

"...I have?"

"We bought enough for nine every single time!"

"You bought snacks for me?"

Mattheo looked genuinely offended.

"Obviously."

"Daphne literally reminds us to get your favourite chocolate."

Daphne shrugged.

"You always steal mine if I don't."

"..."

"...Fair."

───

Theo stood.

He picked up your abandoned book.

Closed it.

Placed it back in your bag.

"...Essay later."

"But—"

"No."

"You've spent three weeks accidentally excluding yourself."

He offered you his hand.

"We're fixing that today."

───

You looked around the room.

Eight familiar faces.

Every single one of them waiting.

Not impatiently.

Not awkwardly.

Simply...

Waiting for you.

The smile that spread across your face was impossible to hide.

"...Okay."

Lorenzo cheered so loudly someone upstairs shouted for him to be quiet.

Mattheo laughed.

"There she is."

───

An hour later...

The nine of you wandered through Hogsmeade together.

Somehow...

You still split into little groups every few minutes.

Theo and Daphne disappeared into Flourish and Blotts' Hogsmeade branch.

Draco and Astoria stopped to admire a shop window.

Pansy dragged Blaise toward a boutique.

Mattheo and Lorenzo argued over which sweets to buy.

You smiled.

Then quietly slowed your pace.

"I'll let them—"

Before you could finish...

Eight heads turned at once.

"Reader."

You froze.

"...Yeah?"

"Where are you going?" Mattheo asked.

"I just thought I'd let you all have—"

"Nope."

Lorenzo grabbed one of your hands.

Astoria took the other.

Mattheo slung an arm around your shoulders.

Pansy linked arms with Daphne.

Theo sighed fondly.

"There she goes again."

Draco smiled despite himself.

"Our favourite idiot."

You laughed as they practically dragged you down the street.

"...I'm never escaping, am I?"

Mattheo grinned.

"That was never part of the plan."

Safe to say...

After that day...

Whenever someone announced plans...

No one asked,

"Who's coming?"

They asked,

"Where's Reader?"

Because if one person was missing...

"Oh my Merlin, look at you!" Astoria smiled as Pansy finally put on her earrings.

"You look hot," you immediately replied.

Pansy grinned.

"Well, obviously."

The three of you laughed as Daphne helped Astoria with her necklace.

"You look like an actual princess," you smiled at Astoria.

"Thank you, darling."

"And you're literally the definition of elegance," you added as Daphne smiled softly.

You loved moments like these.

Until it was finally your turn.

You slipped into your dress before turning towards the mirror.

Silence.

"Oh."

The dress wasn't ugly.

In fact, it was quite pretty.

It just...

Didn't look like Pansy's dress.

Or Astoria's.

Or Daphne's.

You suddenly became painfully aware of every little difference between you and the girls.

Pansy's curves.

Astoria's beautiful hair.

The way Daphne somehow looked so effortlessly feminine and elegant all the time.

You quietly sat down as the girls continued getting ready around you.

No one had said anything.

No one had made you feel bad.

You simply couldn't stop comparing yourself to the people you loved most in the world.

Because how could you not?

They were gorgeous.

And then came the thought that made your stomach twist.

What if I don't look as good as them?

Followed shortly by an even worse one.

What if I don't look like I belong with them?

You'd always loved that your relationship was poly.

You loved watching the people you cared about love one another.

You loved seeing Mattheo and Lorenzo being idiots together.

You loved when Draco got all soft whenever Astoria smiled at him.

You loved seeing Theo read quietly while Pansy rested her head on his shoulder.

You loved watching them exist together.

They looked perfect together.

And suddenly, for the first time in years, you wondered if you fit into that picture.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts.

"IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR IN THE NEXT THIRTY SECONDS WE'RE COMING IN ANYWAY!" Mattheo yelled from the hallway.

"You have five seconds left!" Lorenzo added dramatically.

The girls laughed before opening the door.

The boys immediately froze.

"Wow," Blaise smiled softly. "You all look beautiful."

And they really did.

Draco walked over to Daphne before kissing her forehead and complimenting her dress.

Mattheo immediately went over to Astoria to help fix one of her bracelets.

Theo smiled as Pansy sat beside him, his arm naturally finding its place around her waist.

And all you could think was...

They look perfect together.

You quietly smiled at the sight.

"What's wrong?" Astoria asked softly as she sat beside you.

"Nothing."

"Liar," Pansy replied immediately.

You laughed nervously.

"It's stupid."

"That has never stopped us before," Lorenzo smiled.

The room laughed softly before everyone sat down around you.

You looked at them for a moment before finally admitting,

"Sometimes I wonder if people look at us and question why I'm here."

The entire room immediately went silent.

"What?" Mattheo frowned.

"You all look so..." you gestured vaguely towards everyone in the room. "Beautiful."

"Continue," Draco encouraged.

"And I look at all of you together and you fit so perfectly."

You smiled sheepishly.

"And then I wonder if maybe I'd fit better if I looked more like one of you."

Silence.

"If I looked like Pansy or had Astoria's hair or if I was more elegant like Daphne..."

You laughed softly.

"I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm the odd one out in the prettiest relationship Hogwarts has ever seen."

No one spoke for several moments.

Finally, Pansy was the first to break the silence.

"Darling, if you looked like me there would be two Pansys."

"..."

"Frankly, one is already difficult enough."

The room immediately burst out laughing.

Astoria gently took your hand.

"And if you had my hair, I'd be devastated because I happen to quite like yours."

Daphne smiled softly.

"And I would very much appreciate it if you didn't change a single thing about yourself."

"But-"

"No," Theo interrupted gently. "You're missing the point."

"What point?"

He thought for a moment before speaking.

"If I painted a picture of all nine of us and replaced one of us with someone who looked more like another person in the painting, do you know what I'd call it?"

"What?"

"Incomplete."

Your expression softened immediately.

Blaise smiled as he sat beside you.

"You don't want to look like them."

"I do though."

"No," he shook his head softly. "You want to feel the way they make you feel when you look at them."

The entire room grew quiet.

"You look at Pansy and think she's beautiful," he continued. "You look at Astoria and think she's beautiful. You look at Daphne and think she's beautiful."

You nodded.

"But none of us have ever looked at you and wished you looked more like someone else."

Mattheo smiled softly.

"I've literally never looked at you and thought, 'You know what? She'd be prettier if she looked like Pansy.'"

"That would be incredibly rude," Draco added.

"You belong in this relationship because you're you," Astoria smiled. "Not because of how you look standing next to us."

"And besides," Pansy smirked. "You realize we've all spent years wishing we could pull off things that look amazing on you, right?"

"WHAT?"

"Darling," Daphne laughed softly. "Beauty isn't a competition."

"It's more like an art gallery," Blaise smiled.

"What?"

"If I walked into an art gallery and saw nine beautiful paintings, I wouldn't ask why one of them didn't look more like the others."

You felt your eyes beginning to sting as you looked around at the people you loved most in the world.

Maybe...

Maybe you didn't need to look like someone else to belong beside them.

Maybe you belonged beside them simply because you were you.

And honestly?