#my phone: please..im begging you...delete some things...

Riddle Rosehearts

Your text:

“You looked so good yelling at Ace today. I think I’ve got a thing for authority. Want to punish me next?”

Group chat chaos:

Cater: “👀 Y’ALL KINKY”

Trey: “Cater, don’t encourage them.”

Ace: “IM SUING.”

Deuce: “Can I leave the chat?”

Riddle dropped his pen. He stared at the screen like it had personally insulted the Queen of Hearts.

“...What. What is this. What is THIS.”

His face turned a shade of violently red only seen in cartoons. He stormed into the kitchen where you were innocently making tea.

“Care to explain why my entire dorm now believes I’m a disciplinarian in the bedroom?!”

You apologized. Profusely. With kisses.

He eventually calmed down, sighing, fanning his cheeks.

“...I suppose next time, if you must send something like that, at least not in the group chat.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Your text:

“Next time I sit on your face, maybe I’ll let you breathe. Or not”

Group chat chaos:

Leona: “...Disgusting.”

Jack: “I AM INNOCENT. I DON’T DESERVE THIS.”

Ruggie choked on his lunch. Spit his soda. Dropped his phone. Cursed out loud.

“NONONONO—FUUUCK—DELETE DELETE DELETE.”

You get a voice note from him, sputtering:

“You just committed war crimes. Everyone saw it. Even Leona. I’m going to die. You killed me.”

But after a few hours of internal screaming, he texts again:

“...Not gonna lie though, if that’s a promise... see you tonight.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Your text:

“If I showed up under your desk in nothing but heels and pearls, would you finally stop pretending to read your contract papers?”

Group chat chaos:

Jade: “Fascinating.”

Floyd: “Shrimpy WILD today huh??”

Random Mostro Lounge worker : “I’m filing a complaint.”

Azul nearly threw his tablet into the Mostro Lounge aquarium. His face went beat red.

“No no no no—WHY did it go to the group chat—”

He immediately DM’d you:

“My pearl, I beg you… do not ever use that phrasing again where others can read it.”


“But also. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Please continue.”

Later that night, he’s “working late” in his office—door locked. Wonder why?

Floyd Leech

Your text:

“I had a dream last night where you tied my wrists with ribbons and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wanna try for real?”

Group chat chaos:

Azul: “Excuse me?!?!”

Jade: “Brother, you’ve become quite popular.”

Other students: “Please get a room. Floyd just starts cackling. Loudly.”

“OOOH SHRRIMPYYYYY~ You sent that to everyone!”

He immediately replied in the chat:

“Bet. I be there in a minute!”

Then he slid into your DMs:

“You gonna let me tie you up tonight or what~? Don’t worry, I won’t squeeze too hard. Just enough to hear you squeak.”

You never hear the end of it. Never.

Jade Leech

Your text:

“Tell me again how you pinned me to the tank last night. Maybe do it again when the Mostro Lounge is empty?”

Group chat chaos:

Floyd: “WHOOOOAAA~ You DIRTY lil shrimp!”

Azul: “I’m canceling both of you.”

Random student: “I’m not emotionally stable enough for this. AND IM NOT CLEANING AGAIN!”

Jade’s eyes twitched. Just once.

Then he smiled that eerily calm smile and typed calmly into the chat:

“Thank you for your attention. We’ll be discussing aquarium etiquette next meeting.”

He DMs you moments later:

“Dearest pearl, your creativity astounds me. Shall we give them something else to talk about next time?”

(You don’t know whether to be turned on or terrified.)

Kalim Al-Asim

Your text:

“You looked so good sweating at practice today. I just wanted to drag you behind the gym and have some fun.”

Group chat chaos:

Jamil: “I’m throwing my phone into the Nile.”

Scarabia dormmate: “Kalim. You absolute legend.”

Kalim read the message and blinked. Then beamed.

“Aww! You think I looked good???”

Totally missed the point.

Jamil came in screaming and tackled Kalim’s phone to delete the chat history.

Eventually Kalim got it and turned bright red, laughing nervously.

“Ohhh! I thought you meant—!!! Ehe… well… if you meant… the other thing… let’s talk after dinner?”

Sweetest himbo. 100% still flustered the next day.

Jamil Viper

Your text:

“I had this fantasy of you pulling my hair and whispering orders in my ear. Think you can boss me around outside the kitchen, too?”

Group chat chaos:

Kalim: “You mean like cooking instructions?”

Scarabia dormmate: “I am never using the kitchen again.”

Jamil saw the notification, stopped mid-chop, and stared in dead silence.

Then he muttered:

“I’m going to bury myself in the sand.”

He DMs you with:

“You sent that to the dorm. THE DORM.”

You apologized, and he replied:

“You better mean it. Because now everyone thinks I wear the apron and the crown.”

(He gets very bossy that night. RIP for your back)

Silver

Your text:

“I dreamed of you tying me up and whispering in to my ears with that sleepy voice. Maybe tonight I won’t have to dream.”

Group chat chaos:

Lilia: “My boy is all grown up 😭”

Sebek: “UNACCEPTABLE.”

Malleus: “What do you mean by... ‘tying up’?”

Silver dropped his sword during sparring. He froze in horror. Even Lilia’s teasing didn’t register.

“No. No no no. She didn’t.”

He messaged you:

“You meant to send that to me, didn’t you?”

When you admitted it, he covered his face and sighed.

“You have no idea what you’ve done. Sebek’s yelling, Lilia’s laughing... and Malleus asking questions…”

He doesn’t say anything else—until later that night, when he shows up at your room.

“...You said you didn’t want to dream, right?”

You sleep like a princess that night.

“hey—” she reaches her hand out to stop you from slamming the door on her face, earning an exasperated sigh from you as you open the door wider, getting a good look of her desperate display. “i am begging you,”

“—i know you are. what happened to yuki?” she forces her way into your room, making herself comfortable in your sheets as you put your stuff down and start changing into a more comfortable outfit.

“i told you already,” she says with an eye roll. “they’re not a thing anymore, i don’t know—i wasn’t really paying attention to her story.” you pull the shirt over your head when she grabs her phone to respond to some texts.

yuki is shoko’s friend who frequents frat parties during the weekends and is popular for being everyone’s friend. you’ve interacted with her a couple of times — you were there when she spoke light of a new situationship she’s gotten herself into.

“my sexy ass dealer, choso kamo.” she says, sighing dreamily to herself as she recounts the multiple positions he put her in.

shoko, not caring about the details of yuki’s sex life, ignored her sexual comments and gets to her point — “is his shit good?”

and with all the confidence in the world, yuki says yes.

and that begins shoko’s continued guest arrival at these frat parties, at least the ones yuki is sure choso would be at. over time, he also became shoko’s dealer.

despite you being present during the conversation, you weren’t involved with anything and always stayed in when shoko would meet up with yuki.

“okay, and i don’t know any of them. what difference is it gonna make if i’m the one going with you?” you cross your arms, staring at her intently as she sits on your bed trying to come up with evil little plans. plans to get you, somehow involved.

“i don’t need you to do anything!” she waves her hands in the air, eyes following your body as you make your way to the other side of the bed, getting under the covers. she smiles at your close proximity and lunges at you, wrapping her arms around yours.

“so i’m just your emotional support?” you chuckle.

“pretty much,” she shrugs casually. shoko is a dedicated customer of yuki’s old fling, you highly doubt a broke college student would turn away a consistent customer for the sake of a broken up situationship. unless he was filthy rich and could act out however he pleases, or yuki did him that horrible. you doubt that — yuki’s popular reputation doesn’t excuse her for being emotionally absent when it comes to anything past the friendly boundary, and she makes sure to also only … mess with people who have the same values as her.

“i just want to know if me and him are good,” she stands up, walking around the bed and to the nightstand next to you to dig in your drawers, fingers catching the joint she had hid in there a week ago. “found ya,” she whispers. you look at what she’s holding and gasp, smacking her on the side of her shoulder.

“the hell?!” you look at her in disbelief while she responds with her hands raised in the air like she surrenders. after a small pause, you say, “wait, how many more of those are hidden in here? and how long have you been doing this?” you’re not necessarily a clean freak, but you try your hardest to give your dorm a good clean every week to keep yourself in a positive mindset with a clean environment. you were bound to find one of them on your own, right?

she debunks your statement by responding, “since last year.” she’s by your window, flickering the lighter a couple of times before a small flame rises, aligned to the joint in her hand as she begins smoking. one of the many benefits to your single dorm room and it’s location — you’re rooming by yourself in a room with a balcony, plus it’s facing the back of campus where no one will ever catch you. it’s pure luck, really, that you get to live so luxuriously for college. shoko didn’t talk to you for a month because like any normal person, you refused to switch rooms with her.

“and yuki won’t care?”

she scoffs. “and why would yuki care?”

“okay, fair.”

so now you’re here, during your very free weekend, trying to keep into your personal bubble as people push past each other so casually it makes you all the more want to leave. shoko is holding your hand tight, leading you into the crowd as they split to accommodate the path shoko makes.

“i hate this, sho.” you pout once you’re finally past. there’s a couch not too far from where you’re both standing, and beside it is the entry way that leads into what you assume the kitchen. a large group is by the couch, some seated and some standing up. most have their hands occupied with a red cup, but only one has theirs busy with a fat blunt.

your eyes follow from their fingers to their arms, neck, jaw, and then face. his face. is that him? there’s a thick black line going across his face, with two thinner lines coming through it that align with the center of his eyes and eyebrows. is that a tattoo? it’s a really creative one, and it fits exceptionally well with his personal style — clad in chains and silver jewelry, nose bridge pierced along with his bottom lip with a hoop at the corner of his lips, and soft hair pulled into pigtails. he’s fucking gorgeous.

“that’s him,” shoko says, like she knew who you were staring at, making you self conscious for shamelessly staring. you hope no one noticed, and shoko didn’t. but you know who did?

“shoko?” he calls out for her, and shoko’s eyes widen in a sort of relieved way, probably because that’s confirmation to her that him and her are good. the two of you approach him, and with shoko’s hand still tight with yours, you try to look anywhere but into his eyes. attractive people make you nervous, and he’s everything your eyes could ever want to look at.

“you didn’t answer any of my texts,” for anyone who doesn’t know the context between the two, it would seem like this is a conversation between two people who are involved romantically. you still don’t make eye contact with him, and he notices. although most of his attention is given to shoko, he can’t help but sneak a few quick glances at you.

“i didn’t know if you were gonna be weird about me and yuki,” he shrugs, taking a hit off his blunt. shoko makes a gesture like she’s asking for some, and he passes it to her with almost no hesitation.

she pulls the blunt off her lips and groans, “i don’t care about yuki’s sexcapades,” she takes a couple more hits and hands it back to him.

he chuckles, “can’t argue with that.” it doesn’t take him long to finish the blunt, flicking it to some random corner of the frat house like it’s one of his flings. “i got some stuff, if you wanna take a look.” he gestures upstairs to his room, and shoko throws you a knowing glance.

i told you so, is written all over her face.

you follow quietly with shoko as he leads you two to his room. he hasn’t outright acknowledged you, and you don’t know whether to be thankful or be hurt. he is attractive, after all. even you could see that under the dark lights and deafening music.

“it’s in the drawer.” he gestures to shoko, who follows his word and makes a beeline for his nightstand the minute he opens the door. he politely urges you to come inside, and you do, awkwardly standing near the entrance as he closes the door behind him and starts to make his way to shoko.

seeing you standing there nervously makes choso’s heart tighten in some emotion he’s not familiar with, but he chooses to ignore it and approaches you gently. you watch him inch closer and panic, blurting out—“i’m okay here!” … he’s taken back by your outburst, and your eyes widen as the realization settles.

“o-okay..” he nods, turning around to look for shoko. as his back turns to you, you facepalm and curse to yourself, a wave of regret crashing into you as the entire interaction starts to replay in your head. you’re embarrassed, and want nothing more than to go back to the safety and comfort of your dorm, away from everyone—from him…

“shit!”

your attention is captured by shoko’s loud hiss coming from the area her and choso disappeared into. boldly, you walk towards the source of sound to find her standing by the previously mentioned nightstand and choso’s sitting on his bed, facing her. her phone is in her hand, her eyes trained on the screen with panic. your shadow comes into her view and makes her look up, a sigh of relief escaping her at the sight of you, her self proclaimed guardian angel in disguise.

“yuki is calling.” she says, hints of fear and recent drug intake dripping from her words.

you look around awkwardly with a shrug, “so?”

“so, yuki is calling and i’m in her ex’s room—”

“—woah, i’m not her ex..”

“that’s besides the matter,” shoko sighs, rubbing her temples as her stress begins to rise. it’s already starting to sober her up, which is a horrible beginning to her saturday night. “i don’t want her to get any funny ideas.”

shoko’s phone doesn’t stop ringing. “well, what do you want us to do?” you ask, begging quietly to yourself for her to get you both out of here. this is the perfect opportunity to go, she got what she came for and technically more! there’s no way she would keep you here longer than necessary.

“stay here.” she says, shattering all your hopes and expectations as she heads for the door, phone in hand and joint in between her lips. “be right back!” she skips off, slamming the door behind her. as she walks away and farther from the door, you hear her answering the call and greet yuki nervously.

“wait, hey—” choso sighs like a tired mom, trying his best effort to grab the joint from your grasp without physically overpowering you. he simply doesn’t want you to do too much you’re not used to and end up making yourself sick. “let me have—yes, okay. that’s it for you.” he finally presses the end of the joint down into the ashtray, putting its light out and leaving it there while he tends to you.

and now you’re stuck here with choso kamo, in his room, for god knows how long. you have no idea what yuki is on the phone for, it’s possible that shoko would be gone longer than you’d like her to be. hell, you don’t even want to be in this situation at all. it’s not like you’re not allowed to just leave and text shoko to meet up with you later, but the thought of having to walk through this frat house by yourself, it makes your head dizzy. in the worst way possible.

“hey,” you call out to him. you ignore the anxiety building in your stomach when he whips his head toward you, dark eyes practically pulling you in. his eye contact is too intense, it’s like he’s reading you from the inside. “can you..maybe—uh, walk me out of here?” his eyes widen at your request, but they go away faster than when they appeared.

“sure,” he stands up, leading you out his room. you’re at the end of the hallway, about to descend the stairs when loud thunder starts to clap outside the house, the calming sound of rain drops pitter pattering against the roof can be heard even as the music downstairs doesn’t quiet down.

“fuck,” you sigh, watching through the window as the rain progressively gets harder. “is there a quieter place here? this isn’t really my thing,” you gesture to the party downstairs, earning a small smile from him.

“probably my room.” he says nonchalantly. you look at him with a teasing look while he returns it with a deadpan one, not realizing the innuendos hidden in his statement. his brain starts to process your expression, his eyes widening when pieces of the puzzle start to paint something familiar. “that’s—not what i meant… it’s—they’re probably fucking in their rooms—”

you let out a laugh, “i know what you meant. no worries,” you smile, and he looks at you with feign disappointment. he doesn’t say anything else, only turning around to walk back to his room. with your heart warm, you follow behind him and sit comfortably on his bed once you’ve reached his room. the party is loud downstairs, but the distance and multiple walls separating you from the party does more than enough in quieting the environment for you.

you expected him to go downstairs, back to the party and gloat about how he’s got a girl in his room, lying and making claims that he’s making you wait in here like a good pet, all because that’s what frat boys do. but he’s here, sitting at the edge of his own bed while you lay comfortably.

“do you smoke?” choso swiftly grabs a joint from under his bed, movement so smooth it’s like he made it appear out of thin air. you gulp, watching him place the joint in between his lips and leaving it to hang there while he looks around for a lighter.

“not really,” you trail off. you debated for a good minute whether you wanted to be honest or try and impress him, earn yourself some brownie points so that whatever is going on between you can continue for the days to come.

he hums in response, not saying anything else while he bends to pick up the lighter from the ground beside his nightstand. you watch as he lights the end, burning off the excess paper before relighting it to properly get the joint lit.

he takes in a drag, taking the joint off his mouth and keeping it in bay between his fingers. he inhales, keeping his breath still as the smoke he inhaled dissipates. he exhales, bringing the joint back up to his lips. he notices your curious gaze and gestures the joint over to you with an offering look.

“you want?” his voice is so sweet, completely judge free and granting you the comfort of having absolute free will in your decision. his display of the bare minimum makes your knees weak and the joint in his hand seem more appealing.

“okay,” you exhale, trying your best to rid of the nervousness lingering in your body. he nods, bringing the joint closer to you. you hesitate for a beat, taking the joint into your fingers with moves of unfamiliarity. choso doesn’t comment on it, though, easing your nerves as you bring the joint to your lips.

and just like you’ve done a couple of times with shoko, you inhale. but just like any other inexperienced smoker, you inhale for longer than someone of your caliber is capable of, causing you to forcefully remove the joint from your lips to erupt in a coughing fit, smoke rapidly leaving your mouth following your coughs.

choso leaves and quickly comes back with a glass of cold water, the sight of the cooled glass in his hands nearly bringing you to tears. you take the glass with a grateful smile and hand him the joint in exchange, carefully sipping away the burn in your throat.

“careful, there.” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back as he watches you down the glass. after putting down the glass, he brings the same joint back to your field of vision. “try again?” he looks at you, as gentle as he could ever be.

you look at him, studying the way his eyes are low and slightly red from the after effects of the weed. the lamp on his nightstand is the only proper source of light in his room, the rest being his led strip lights and the monitor lights from his computer setup. his pale face shines under all that mix of lighting, and you swear it’s impossible for him to look this beautiful up close too.

you nod, about to grab the joint when he shakes his head at you, bringing the joint to your lips himself. you look at him hesitantly for a second, eyes looking at his slightly parted lips. you’re tempted to just lean in, move the joint out of the way and press your lips against his, but you fight against it when he brings the joint closer once again.

you part your lips, waiting for him to place the joint in between them. and he does, watching you intently as you drag a hit, trying your best to inhale it all in like you watched him do earlier. your lungs don’t betray you this time, allowing you to take a smooth inhale and exhale exchange with the joint, the sensation immediately hitting you and settling throughout your body.

choso notices your lack of tolerance and how the joint easily affects you, putting it on the ashtray sitting on his nightstand. pouting, you reach for the joint, “i can do more,” you whine. choso shakes his head, but is ultimately lost to your pout. you’re just too cute, he can’t help it. he cautiously grabs the joint and once again brings it to your lips, watching you take another hit. the haze of your high makes you bolder, and you grab the joint from his hands and start free-balling hits.

you, who’s practically on cloud 9. it’s dreamy, laying in bed with him, almost cuddling, as you’re high off your ass. he’s so pretty too, eyes never leaving yours as he handles you with utmost care. it doesn’t help that he was also being a sweetheart about everything, never making you feel lesser of yourself for being inexperienced, nor laughing at you for coughing your lungs out from such little intake.

you don’t realize that you’re staring, even when he’s snapping his fingers at your face accompanied with an amused smile on his.

it’s only now when it dawns on you — he’s yuki’s ex boyfriend. or, well, fling. whatever. you and yuki aren’t necessarily close, but you’ve heard of their split very recently. it’s a hit to your personal morals for you to go through with this, but goddamn does he make it so hard to follow through.

he’s staring at you with so much….love? it can’t be, you just met and barely know each other. yet, you’re in his room, on his bed, cuddling. his eyes are soft in the way they’re on you, never looking away for even a second. but the more you start to fall in love with the way he looks at you, the more it dawns on you that when you look at him, all you see is yuki.

it fully hits you when he’s inches away — his breath on your lips and his eyes desperate for anything of yours you could give him. he’s almost there, almost where you want him, where he wants to be, but it hits you.

“yuki—” he’s immediately pulling away. “this would…be weird,” you look off to the side, not wanting to see him look so shattered. that, or the most likely option, his face filled with regret when he realizes he’s chasing yuki in another girl, that girl being you.

you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t realize that it’s actually the first option — his eyebrows furrowed and he looks like he’s a puppy who’s been kicked, tossed to the side because they’re utterly useless. he’s devastated, and he is filled with regret, but not the kind you believed he would harbor. he regrets indulging himself, regrets pushing for something harder knowing he was going to mess it up one way or the other. he regrets making you uncomfortable, he regrets being selfish, knowing that he never deserved such soft and innocent love.

the rain has calmed, and choso stands up. “i’ll walk you out.” your eyes widen, panic settling as you realize that you messed up. you watch him put his shoes on, walking towards the door and patiently waiting for you to situate yourself. he’s being polite, and it’s driving you crazy. unfortunately, your mind shuffles back to the bane of all your current problems, yuki.

it’s okay to be selfish. it’s human, it’s natural, she’ll get over it. if she really wanted him, she’ll try harder. but as you watch him walk away from you, you start to toss everything you’ve known about some stupid girl code morals aside. all your excuses, no matter what your situation with her is, you’ll deal with it later. you want this, you want him. it’s okay to be selfish.

fuck the morals.

you go for it. you get off the bed and grab his forearm, pulling him close to you and pressing your lips against his. you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as he grabs hold of your waist, leaning into you.

you pull away with a heavy breath, but choso wants more. his hands move up to your face, holding you by your cheeks as he leans in and presses kisses on your lips.

“choso—stop—” you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t falter and he continues with peppering you with kisses, soft but firm, like he’s trying to relay words with his actions.

“—i can’t.” he exhales, out of breath. “i need more,” he leans back in, this time resorting into capturing your lips for a deep kiss, groaning when you return his enthusiasm. “it’s not enough,” he breathes in between kisses, desperation obvious in each kiss he shares with you.

he pulls away reluctantly, quickly pulling you to his bed. he’s on his back, and you lie right on top of him. palms on each side of his head while your knees are separated by his body in between.

he wraps his arms around you, tightening his grip because he doesn’t want to let you go. your smell overwhelms him in the best way possible, and he starts to feel guilty when that familiar electric feeling shoots through his body to his cock.

“you’re hard.” you say sheepishly, earning a chuckle from the man below you. he plants a kiss on your nose, smiling at you endearingly as he rubs his thumbs on your waist.

“sorry, pretty.” he says, sitting up and moving you to sit properly on his lap. your arms are resting on his shoulders, and his grip is on your hips and you can really feel his hard on now. he reaches over for another joint, a fresh one, and places it between your lips. he gives you the lighter, and you happily take it. he leans back, using his hands to support him. “you just look too good on top of me,”

you smirk, putting the joint in between his lips after you take a few hits. he keeps eye contact with you as he sucks in, the smoke trailing around him, and you swear the smoke forms a halo around him. he looks heavenly, eyes low and smirk light. he takes another hit off his joint, and you watch the expression on his face change entirely.

he looks at you, serious in his approach as he sits up a little more. you can feel him getting harder, and you curse under your breath as you feel the wet patch in between your legs grow at the feeling of his cock hardening below you.

“tell me if you don’t want this.” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours as he takes another hit, letting the smoke surround the both of you as your eyes are trained on him.

he passes the joint to you, “i want this,” you say, coughing softly as you pull the joint away from your lips. he smiles, leaning in to kiss you gently. you toss the joint to the side, its flame going out as it lands somewhere on the floor.

he flips you over so you’re on your back, never failing to keep his lips on you the entire time as he removes your shirt, and then your pants, leaving you vulnerable in your underwear.

he pulls away to look you up and down, eyes scanning and admiring your beauty as you cower below him, embarrassment lacing your face as it grows hot from shame. choso isn’t having it, grabbing your legs and spreading you open, eyes immediately on the wet spot in the middle of your underwear.

you take your bra off, noticing his eyes fixated between your legs when you toss the bra over his shoulder. you whine, catching his attention. “take these off,” he mumbles, rubbing you through the fabric and forcing you to practically jump out of your underwear in order to get a feel of his touch.

choso groans, almost cums, at the sight of you laying so pretty underneath him, spread open like a slut as you look up at him with your pretty eyes. his eyes never leave your glistening pussy, fingers subconsciously rubbing your folds and occasionally sneaking a swipe at your clit. he cannot keep his hands to himself, not when you whine so pretty every time he swipes at your clit, and he finds that he’s only doing it because of the fact you sound so damn cute.

but, he takes another swipe, eyes fixated on your face this time and oh—he’s hooked. he thought your moans and cute whines were out of this world, but my god the face you make when you’re feeling good easily beats all of those. this time, his fingers are stuffed in you, your pussy filled to the hilt of him.

he’s fingering you tenderly, in love with the way you whine as your hips start twitching when the tip of his finger is hitting your cervix. he’s addicted to the way your cream is lathered all over his fingers, coating them in your slick — he can fucking smell you. he’s dizzy, he wants his mouth on you, but seeing the way your face contorts in that cute and really sexy way, he’d be the dumbest man alive to pull his fingers out of you right now.

“cho—hnnngg..!!” you squeal, the way your wetness seeping out of you and onto his fingers and his sheets is loud, like literally — the sounds of his fingers going in and out of you is echoing loudly in the room, and you’re out of breath from the way he’s not stopping, desperate to keep you like this, so dumb, so perfect.

he uses his other hand to rub your clit, smirking like he’s accomplished something when you start to thrash, gasping for air as he continues to play with you. there’s something mean in the way he makes you chase for it, watching every move and every twitch with a predatory gaze. his face visibly contorts as he watches you begin to cry, upset at him as he pulls away from you the minute you whine i’m cumming!

“i’m sorry, sweet girl.” he coos, wiping away at your tears as he licks you off his fingers. “if you’re gonna cum that hard, might as well do it on me, yeah?” he smiles, pulling his pants off and lining his cock to your entrance. he slips only the tip in, spreading your legs wide as he rubs your clit. you’re whining, already so close to your sweet release, only for him to stop.

“fuck…me, already….” you whisper, afraid that you’d push him too far and only earn yourself punishment. choso smiles at you, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead — so soft, it almost makes you forget that he’s about to fuck you ruthless.

“just look pretty for me,” he says, slamming the rest of him into you without warning. you choke, eyes widening as he grabs hold of your thighs, spreading you impossibly wider while he keeps his eyes set in between your legs and on your leaking pussy, clit pulsating in obvious pattern, signaling to him that you’re almost there.

“fuck—yes, right there,” you cry, the knot in your stomach tightening. he continues the brutal thrust of his hips, showing no signs of letting up any time soon, but from his previous ministrations and the fact that your orgasm has already been denied once, you’re not meant to last long anyway.

and you prove your statement right when you gasp and slap his shoulders, feeling the knot about to burst accompanied with something unfamiliar and terrifying.

“cho—i’m—fuck, holy shit! i’m cumming!” you spray all over his lower half, whining as you come down from the intense high. choso feels your squirt drench him, and he’s immediately jerking his hips and releasing inside you, heat filling you up as he attempts to catch his breath. he’s caught off guard, not meant to finish this early, but something about you—and maybe the fact that he’s high as fuck, made him cum so much harder than usual, but he’s willing to bet it has everything to do with you and none with the drugs in his system.

he’s a sweetheart, natural in his ways as he begins to clean you up. you’re exhausted, still trying to catch your breath while he’s already up and about, having gone in and out the kitchen a couple of times already to give you anything you needed. he never mentioned anything about you leaving, even when you start to fall asleep, comfortable and tucked in his bed—in his clothes. even the next day, he doesn’t, not even when the two of you are due for a class in an hour.

and like some higher power above had heard him, choso’s evil plan goes through and you fall asleep throughout the entirety of the class, waking up when every one has settled into their afternoons and all classes are starting to wrap up for the day. he’s not at all guilty when you’re standing in front of him, arms crossed and face showcasing your utter disappointment in him. he stays in bed, leaning against the headboard, abs in display and his lower half covered by the sheets.

“you’re unbelievable.” you sigh in defeat, and choso could only smirk at his victory. “it was an important class too, y’know.” you grumble, but really, it wasn’t all that important. you’re just feeling awkward, too exposed, and the fact that he’s enjoying this—teasing you, it makes you all the more embarrassed. but, despite it all, not an ounce of regret.

“i didn’t want it to be like this,” the room suddenly gets colder, atmosphere thickening as he gets serious. his eyes are on you, hoping that he can relay to you just how much this means to him. “i really like you, and i want to get to know you.”

you don’t know how many other girls he’s said this to — hell, you can’t help but wonder if he said this to yuki, but you smile. you wave off those thoughts, wanting to keep him to yourself because in this moment’s time, he is yours and yours alone. might as well enjoy that privilege the best you can.

so when he finally walks you out of the frat house, walking past the remnants of last night’s party, you passionately kiss him goodbye, smiling all lovey-dovey like what you two have is something special. you keep yourself under this bubble until you’ve fully walked away and are back in your dorm room, alone in your thoughts. you tuck yourself in bed, thoughts beginning to spiral as you start to think of him and the plethora of other girls he’s come to associate with. girls who are very different from you, prettier than you, can offer more than you.

your bed becomes your new hangout spot after that. you continue to attend classes, but you’re more kept to yourself than you were before, mind occupied with thoughts about your self worth and choices in life. you also start to ignore choso, but it’s not like that was ever a challenge since he never bothered to get your socials or your number. all the more convincing you that you were never beyond a fling to him, despite how carefully he treated you and how lovesick his gaze on you was. none of that mattered, just like you.

shoko meets with you in the campus hallways, right outside your next class, clueless at the sudden weight on your shoulders, and you can’t even comprehend what she could possibly say in response to if she ever found out about you and choso. him and yuki are probably already toxic and confusing enough, adding you into that mix is practically tv show worthy. at least, to her.

you’re thankful, knowing you can escape the thought of him by being with shoko. however, she crushes your hopes and dreams instantly with a nudge at you, “by the way, where were you after that party last week? you never told me when you left,” she’s distracted, sitting down and pulling her things out from her bag. you panic, unsure of what to say before composing yourself when she glances at you.

“i stayed for a bit,” you try to be as vague as possible, tricking yourself into believing that you’re technically not lying to her, you just choose to keep parts of the story hidden from her. you’re thankful that the professor begins speaking, saving you from speaking on the matter any further.

you think you’re finally free when yuki pops up out of nowhere, a look on her face screaming she has the beans to spill. it’s lunch when she follows you and shoko to your usual spot in campus, lunch in hand while she runs her mouth about the current events of her life. you’re not paying attention at first, but it’s towards the end of her rambling where it starts to pique your interest.

“i know i’m the one who ended things but i hate this!” she whines, face stuffed in her phone.

shoko looks at her boredly, “what’s it to you, anyway? he probably has a line of them waiting since you two broke it off,”

unbeknownst to them, their exchange only fuels the doubt and insecurity within you, cowering at each word they say as your mind drifts, thoughts focused on how you’re everything that he doesn’t want.

“he was obsessed with me, sho. whoever he’s sleeping with, i’m telling you she is a rebound.” ouch..

“impossible, you treated him like shit and vice versa. he’s not the type to catch feelings.” so it meant nothing…

“nobody knows him like i do.” it’s supposed to be you.

“or so you thought.” yeah, you did.

“he said he loves me—”

“—i’m..!” you stand up, practically yelling and startling the two. their eyes are on you, concerned with your outburst. “i’m gonna go.” you say flatly, not bothering to find the energy to make up a lame excuse, you just want to get in bed and forget about everything. the two don’t argue, they don’t even think twice of it, only watching you walk away.

you reach your dorm with a heavy heart, their words ringing in your ear as you attempt to change into comfortable clothes. his black clothes capture your attention, flashbacks of you changing out of his clothes and placing them carefully on the back of your chair as you get into your own clothes play in your head, reminiscing about the night that lead to him giving you his clothes in the first place.

you get in bed, preparing to fall asleep to avoid the self deprecating thoughts drown you until your phone dings, vibrating against your soft mattress. you turn it around to see the screen light up, eyes scanning the notification displayed on your screen.

choso kamo has sent you a message!

you click on it, phone unlocking and bringing you to instagram, his dm on your screen.

choso kamo Hey.

you hi

choso kamo I miss you.

you can’t help but smile.

you really?

choso kamo Yeah. When can I see you again?

you hmm, not sure.

you frown, remembering what yuki said.

“he said he loves me!”

choso kamo I know there’s something on your mind. I want you to talk to me.

you curse at his concern. even despite all your doubts, he never fails to uplift you.

you im ok. just been thinking

choso kamo About?

you well

choso kamo Can we meet at the park? I want to talk to you in person. I miss you.

there he goes again with saying i miss you, repeating it for the second time like he means it. how despicable of him. your fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure of what to say.

you okay

it takes you twenty minutes to doll yourself up and come out looking presentable enough, hiding the truth of spending the past week sulking in your room thinking about him, him and yuki, him and other girls.

you spot him when he honks, grabbing your attention. you walk towards his parked car, inhaling softly as the musky aroma of his car hits you. it smells like him.

“so, what’re you thinkin’ your pretty head off about,” he looks into your eyes, ready to listen to all your problems and maybe, if you let him, carry the burden of them all on his own.

“yuki,” you test the waters, looking at him for approval. considering that you had previously voiced her as the reason for a ridge between you two, mentioning her again wouldn’t give him too much of a shock, nor would it push him away. he doesn’t give you a physical reaction, keeping his eyes on you to let you know he’s listening. “is it true you love her?” his eyes widen, and you can’t help your heart start to crack knowing it is true — he has said it to her. he loves her, not you.

“no, i—” he shakes his head, grabbing your hands to ground him, “i said that to her in the beginning of it all—” you didn’t think you’d get him to crumble this easily, and watching him lose himself in attempts of explaining to you, tell you that all he’s ever tolerated, tried for, love, will only ever be you. “yuki’s easy. she doesn’t ask, she doesn’t give, we exist to each other when we need something. we’re transactional but you—..this—…it’s.. different. so different.” he keeps gesturing between you two, wanting nothing more than to reach for you, take you into his arms.

“how am i supposed to know i’m different?” you look at him, pleading for him to make this ache in your heart go away. he looks at you, broken, like he regrets it. you’re scared, unsure of what that regret could mean.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you and no, it’s not because we fucked, it’s—god, it’s more than that. when i saw you approach me at the party, tagging behind shoko, i couldn’t look away from you.” he sighs, seemingly frustrated at himself for his struggle to get the words out. “i wanted to impress you, i wanted you to have a good opinion of me, i just—…i wanted you to see me as choso. not the campus plug, or your friend’s fling. i wanted you to forget all that.. if you left me hard and blue balled that night i’d still be here begging for your attention,”

your eyes are widened, unable to process his words. his breathing is ragged, desperate as they try to claw for a source of fresh air—for you, hoping that you could feel the raw intensity of his emotions, the growing love and interest he grows for you as you’re before him, looking so pretty as you worry about his attention drifting somewhere else, when you’ve captured him the second he laid his eyes on you.

“i’m not like them,” you say quietly, referring to his previous roster of girls. “i never cared to be, but because of you, i wanted to be like them.”

“you don’t need to be like them. i like you just the way you are,” he presses a kiss to your nose, his heart warming at the sight of your cute face melting at the contact of his touch on you. “please, stay the way you are.” he pinches your cheek softly, following it with a kiss.

yuki and shoko are shocked to see you all giddy and happy the next day, giggling into your phone for the nth time of the hour.

“okay, you got me!” shoko says, catching your attention. “what’s got you snorting like a pig while you stare at your phone?” you glare at her comparison of calling you a pig.

“othing,” you sing, content with keeping your thing with choso a secret to avoid outside influence for as long as possible. it was your suggestion, despite choso’s clear disagreement to it, but he was a popular name. talks of someone like him being in a serious relationship can and will destroy any attempts of taking things seriously.

shoko rolls her eyes at you, knowing that you’re intentionally keeping something from her, but is more so annoyed at the fact that you’re aware that she knows, but wish to do nothing about it.

yuki distracts her from the annoyance, however, with a tired groan. “i talked to him yesterday,” she begins, and you, under the assumption that she’s talking about somebody unrelated, stay distracted by your phone. “told me it wasn’t the right time since she was there.” she shrugs, and that catches your attention. it could be pure coincidence, but she couldn’t be talking about choso right? especially after what he said?

but, fear creeps in you when you remember after your conversation with him last night, he took you back to the frat house. you two were in bed cuddling when a knock was heard from his door. nothing suspicious was needed to take note of during then, but you did find it odd how after that, he seemed to be in a rush. he never asked you to leave nor did he rush you in doing so, but you could tell he wasn’t completely in it after coming back from answering the door.

there’s no way that it was yuki who came knocking on his door, right? and there’s no way he would keep it from you, right?

“maybe he’s just doing it out of respect for her,” shoko says, mindlessly looking at her nails.

yuki clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “nah, not since we’re meeting up later,” she giggles evilly, wiggling her eyebrows and making shoko shove her in disbelief.

“you cheeky bitch,” shoko smirks, and yuki sticks her tongue out at her. you grow sick, clearing your throat to get their attention.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say, turning your phone off so you don’t have to look at his contact anymore. your heart grows heavy as you bid goodbye to them, trying your best not to break down in the middle of campus.

your mind is racing as you make your way to his frat house. people start to notice you simply because of how devastating you look, but you can’t bring it in you to care. all you want is to talk to him, get this miscommunication out of your life before you burst.

you knock at his door, ignoring the concerned looks from his fellow frat members. choso opens the door with a joint between his lips and another one tucked behind his ear. his eyes soften at the sight of you, smile gracing his features as he opens his arms.

despite it all, you hug him, sighing contently at his touch. you keep your arms around him for longer than planned, but he doesn’t seem to mind, which makes the accusations you heard earlier hurt more.

“i missed you, pretty girl.” he says once you’ve separated from him. he brings you in his room, holding your hand as he guides you to his bed, tucking you in while takes his hat off and lays besides you.

“i heard stuff today,”

“yeah?” he mumbles, lighting the joint between his lips. “what’d you hear, my baby?” his voice is soft, never failing to make you feel important and loved with the way he treats you — speaks to you.

“yuki came here yesterday?” he looks at you, guilt obvious in his face. he turns to his side, using his arm to support his head as he looks at you, mouth sucking on the joint as he inhales. “she said she did, and she also said you told her to meet up with you later.” you make no move to lean close to him, inhale his scent like you always do, and he can’t blame you. it seems that all he does, no matter the intention, seems to only hurt you, and it’s all his fault.

“she did,” choso confirms, sighing to himself in disappointment. “but i swear, it’s cause i didn’t want her to come in and interrupt our time, nor did i want you to see her at my door. i was gonna ask her to meet me somewhere public, so i could let her down and tell her i don’t want anything to do with her anymore. i’m sorry,” you look at him, cursing silently at his undefeated method of looking straight into your eyes — so much love in his stare that you could feel the honesty in his statement.

“..i get that,” you start, and he’s staring at you intently. hoping, wishing, that you could forgive his fuck up, just this one time, this final time, and he’ll love you properly. no more mistakes, no more hurting you. “i just wish you told me. i want you to be able to lean on me, no matter the problem.” you frown, but happy that he tried his best to keep you happy and shoulder all the burden himself.

choso chokes, “i know, pretty—i’m…i’m sorry.” he looks down, ashamed he even dared to make a mistake, resulting in hurting you. he feels guilty, but when you caress his cheek and smile at him so sweetly, he learns to forgive himself, because you did.

“i don’t want to hide,” you blurt out, overwhelmingly drowning in your affections for him. he smiles at your outburst, kissing your cheek so endearingly it almost brings a tear to your eye.

“neither do i, baby.” he whispers, voice husky and deep, rubbing circles against your hips as he carries you to sit on his lap. he looks into your eyes, gaze deepening like he wants to study every part of you, because he does. “i’d rather ask you this properly—like on a date or something, but i can’t wait any longer.” he sighs, lips ghosting against yours with yearn. “please, let me be yours,” he interlocks his fingers with yours, leaning closer and closer to you as the minutes pass — if he just moved one centimeter, he’s there. he wants to kiss you.

“you already are,” you tease. he shakes his head.

“not like that. officially,”

you hum, “let me think about it?”

choso pouts, finally giving in to his desires and pressing his lips against yours. he pulls away, “you can’t.” he’s whispering, eyes stubborn as they keep in contact with yours, and you start to heat up in embarassment from his intense stare.

still, you giggle teasingly. “so i have no choice?” you pull your hand away from his for your fingers to climb into his hair, massaging it. you smile as he closes his eyes, sighing contently as he takes in the relaxing feeling of your hands in his hair.

“no, you don’t.” he says, opening his eyes. he gribs your hips, giving you another kiss. “you’re so beautiful, girlfriend.” he smiles cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes despite enjoying every bit of his sillyness.

“thank you,” you wink, “boyfriend.” he leans in for another kiss, finding himself unable to go without a kiss from you for more than a minute. “wanna come to my apartment? let’s smoke in my balcony!” you stand up, pulling yourself off his lap. he frowns at the loss of contact, but immediately beams when you bring your hand out to him.

he takes your hand in his, getting up from his bed and following you as you make your way out the frat house. he eventually stops you from leading the way, instead catching up to you and walking the same speed as you so you can link your arm with his and lean close to him as you both walk to your dorm building. it doesn’t take long for the two of you to eventually be in your dorm — choso is sat at the end of your bed, looking around with childlike wonder as he processes your room. despite the fact that the little dorm space and strict rules would normally limit one’s creative expression, you somehow make do with so little to showcase as much of your personality as you possibly could. your room is filled with so much … you, he can’t help but sit there and look amazed at everything.

meanwhile you, are looking around your room, trying to find any of the joints that shoko left around in your room. remembering her presence in here a week ago, you recall that she hid a good amount of joints in your room — who’s to say she didn’t hide more?

choso snaps out of his wonder, eyes locking to your figure that’s wandering your room. he stays silent, simply happy with being in your presence.

you groan in frustration, unable to find any joints. choso finally speaks up, “what’re you looking for, baby?” he stands up, walking towards you and placing a hand on the small of your back. you stand up straight and turn to him, wrapping your arms around him.

“any joints shoko could have hid in here,” you sigh, resting your chin on his chest as you look up at him. he looks down at you, smiling goofily before rummaging his hand in his pocket. you look down at his hand when he brings it up to your face, holding a metal cigarette case. he opens it, revealing four joints neatly wrapped and prepared in advanced. you gasp, face lightening up. his smile grows at your cute face, taking one joint out and giving it to you before closing the case and placing it on top of your dresser. he pats his pocket to make sure his lighter is there, and when he feels its shape, he smiles at you and leads you out to your balcony and onto the seats you’ve set up.

he lights the joint for you, watching intently as you take the first hit. choso feels lost in your face, he wholeheartedly believes he could sit here for hours just staring at your face and memorizing every detail there is about you. in fact, he wants to. getting to sit beside you and watch your every move has been an honor for him, and he plans to keep that honor for as long as you’ll allow him to.

you hum in satisfaction at the taste of the joint filling your mouth, smoke slowly dissipitating as you inhale and keep it in, exhaling after a few more seconds. you take another hit before passing it to him, “thank you baby.” he’s polite with it, grabbing the joint from your fingers like he’s afraid to touch your skin — he’s not, but every time he’s skin to skin with yours, electricity shoots through his body. it hurts in the best way possible, and is something he’s grown to get used to the more he yearns for your touch.

the two of you sit in silence for hours, just smoking with each other and having lovely conversation. his hand is gripping yours the entire time, smile permanently on his face not because of the drugs seeping into his neural functions, but because of your warmth enveloping him into eternal happiness and your lovesick gaze reserved for him and him only. you eventually go through two more joints, leaving one left in the case as it’s now moved on top of the coffee table outside in your balcony.

it’s late into the night when you and choso are finally in bed, limbs tangled with each other as you cling to him for warmth despite the thick blanket draped over you. he doesn’t seem to mind either when he has his arms wrapped tightly around you, breathing calm and content as he holds you tenderly. he wants to say so much, whisper loving words to you as you drift off into the night, but he can’t. he doesn’t want to scare you away.

he goes to sleep that night with his heart heavy from all the words he’s unable to say to you, but the sleep is peaceful with your presence overpowering the doubts in his mind.

“what the fuck?” choso groans awake the next day, his deep morning voice practically inside your ear from how close he is. he turns (while still keeping his arms wrapped around you) to find shoko, shock evident on her face. he’s too sleepy to move—to react, only staring at her before turning to you when he feels you stir.

“cho…?” you mumble, looking up at him, only to focus your attention a bit to the side when you spot your shocked best friend. although she isn’t dramatic about it, anyone who knows her can easily tell that she’s nonetheless surprised. she doesn’t have anything snarky to say, and her brain is too busy processing her questions to biologically remember that she has a nicotine addiction and should have a cigarette in her mouth.

“what’s he doing here?” shoko doesn’t care for boundaries, paying no mind to the fact that you and choso aren’t awake enough to be answering questions. thankfully, neither of you expected her to not be doing what she’s doing right now anyway so it’s not like her behavior is irritating the both of you.

you leave her questions unanswered, simply sitting up and laying on the bed on your knees and rubbing your eyes. choso is on his side, palm supporting his head as he’s looking up at you, back now turned to shoko. she grows impatient at the lack of information going to her, watching you and choso—analyzing you two. she realizes that you are closer than she originally thought. scratch that, you’re really fucking close. like, any minute now she’d find his lips on yours type of close. even though his back is on her, shoko can still see the dumb grin on choso’s face as he speaks to you like she’s not literally right there.

you look up at her, “choso’s my boyfriend.” you smile, and choso’s mouth drops slightly, hearing that specific sentence fall from your lips and dripped in your lovely voice is something unbelievably special to him. he felt his heart nearly burst from it.

“oh.” is all shoko says, but she figured that out already when she saw choso constantly leaning in to get a kiss from you like…ten times the past two minutes. “what about yuki?” choso, who hasn’t been tapped into the conversation since he turned back around to look at you, turns around.

“what about her?” his tone is accusing, not liking the fact that your own best friend is prioritizing someone else’s feelings above your own. that someone else, whose feelings don’t deserve to be prioritized in the situation.

however, shoko rolls her eyes at choso’s dramatic act. “not like that, idiot. she was there,” shoko points to you, and choso then looks at you. “yuki has been talking about you nonstop. i’m sure you’re aware,”

choso nods. “me and yuki were never supposed to be like that, she knows that all too well. i don’t owe her anything, and if i remember correctly, she’s not all that close with yuki. it’s none of our business,”

shoko pauses, before lifting her hands in the air in surrender. choso’s shoulders relax at that, and you smile, rubbing his arm. at your touch he turns to look at you and smiles back.

shoko’s hands are on their way back down when her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. she takes it out and sees yuki is calling… displayed on her screen.

“speak of the devil,” she flashes her screen to the both of you for a few seconds before swiping, answering the call and bringing the phone to her ear. “sup bitch,” she giggles when yuki starts to scold her.

the two start to converse to themselves while you and choso get up. he helps make your bed while you open your drawers to find an outfit to change into. you find something simple and change right there, causing choso to jump, flinching his head to shoko who glances at you for the quickest second and looking away, not phased by you changing at all.

“has she seen you change before?”

you chuckle, “like a million times, she’s my best friend.” you slip the shirt over your head and march to the bathroom, quickly rinsing your face and brushing your teeth. amidst you brushing your teeth, you hand choso a fresh toothbrush from an unopened package inside your bathroom drawers, to which he happily takes as he also begins to brush his teeth.

when the two of you leave, mouth minty and fresh, shoko is off the phone and seems to be waiting for the two of you. with her arms crossed, she leans away from the wall.

“yuki’s coming in less than a minute, so good luck.” she shrugs, and you roll your eyes at her while choso casually makes his way to your vanity. he pulls out a chair, sitting down and grabbing a few items from his pocket. from it, he pulls out a very crumpled bag and a package of rolling paper. he opens the bag to reveal weed, and reaches in his other pocket and pulls out a grinder. you start to wonder, how the hell did none of that fall out while both of you were sleeping?

a knock echoes from your door, and without worry, you stand up and make your way to go open it. shoko watches you, your expression, with doubt, unable to grasp that you truly do not care for how yuki would feel. secretly, a sense of pride surges within her at the thought of it, feeling extremely proud of you for allowing yourself to be selfish enough to get what you want.

“hi there~” yuki’s voice fills the room, her eyes immediately landing on choso’s figure slumped at your vanity as he’s rolling a couple of joints. her breathing stops, eyes scanning his features to really make sure it’s him. once she confirms it’s really him, she whispers, “choso?”

he turns around, face not moving a muscle as his vision lands on her. he looks at you, who is smiling besides yuki, and yuki, who’s watching choso, follows his gaze to you. the gears in her brain start to turn as she processes the situation before her. shoko is silently watching the whole thing, curious as to how it’s going to play out.

“wait, are you the one he’s been sleeping with?” she points to you, and sheepishly, you nod. at your response, she groans. “oh my god.”

“he’s my boyfriend,” you smile.

“since when?”

“yesterday..”

“no, you and him.”

“oh, like a week ago?”

“oh my god,”

“what???”

“i was talking about him in front of you, and technically i was indirectly and unknowingly talking about you!”she groans in frustration. at the back, shoko sighs in relief while you chuckle. although you were prepared for a more negative response, you’re happy with the one you got.

“it’s fine, yuki.”

“it’s not—god! i feel so embarrassed,” yuki covers her face in her hands. “listen, i don’t care for him in that way, so don’t misunderstand anything.” she smiles, and you smile back at her. she walks over to your vanity, peeking over choso’s shoulder to see how many joints he’s rolled. so far, he’s done four. yuki takes one in a dramatic attempt of being sneaky, obviously faking it, but choso subtly plays along and doesn’t acknowledge her little steal. you chuckle at the sight. she claps her hands at her so called successful sneak, walking towards shoko, who already seems to be waiting for her. “alright, we out!” she rocks a peace sign in the air, walking out of your room while waving the joint she stole in her other hand. shoko follows along, sending a blow kiss towards you, one you return back to her as she closes the door behind her.

“finally,” choso practically teleported behind you at the sound of the door closing, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his mouth to your ear. “have you all to myself,” he tightens his grip, pulling you closer to his chest.

he kisses your cheek, hands loosening around you so he could grab you by your waist, turning you around to face him. you smile at him, reaching forward to plant a kiss on his nose.

“my beautiful girl,” he leans down, pressing his lips against yours for a kiss. you return it with doubled excitement, heart warming at the love dripping in his kisses, moving his lips against yours like he’s trying to say something. it’s three words, he desperately wants to get his heart out, but will you accept it? will you jump as high as you can, open your palms as wide as you can, to capture his heart — his heart that is so heavy with all his insecurities and past mistakes. will you catch it, despite falling down the second it’s in your hand?

“i love you,” you whisper as you pull away for the quickest second before he’s kissing you again. a gasp leaves him, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. he doesn’t, because he won’t. he can’t. if he does, he’ll start crying. your words are heavier than he thought, the way you carry them with such certainty, not an ounce of regret trailing from your tone as you admit it to him. it shocks him, because he had already doubted whether you’d catch him. but you’re so perfect, always shocking him in ways he never thought you could. throwing yourself at him instead, risking all your vulnerability for him and allowing him into your life. without a second thought.

“i love you more.” and despite his desperate attempts of holding back his tears, his love for you is too great — far too great, no matter what, he can’t keep quiet when it comes to that overwhelming feeling of adoration for you. he leans in for another kiss, and another, and another—before he’s fully making out with you, hoping that with each movement of his lips with yours, you can feel the i love yous that follow it.

“Shhh,” he pants, stroking himself faster, the tip leaking. “Wanna see ‘em messy. Wanna—” His voice breaks into a whine as he leans over you, cock twitching before thick ropes of cum stripe across your tits, splattering up your collarbone. His breathing’s uneven, jaw slack, but his eyes are wide, soaking in the sight like it’s the most important thing he’s ever seen.

And then he’s moving, scrambling one-handed for his phone, still trying to catch his breath. “Baby, baby don’t move—please—please just stay like that.” He’s already thumbing the camera open. “Just one picture. Just for me. No one will ever see it, I swear.”

You raise a brow, but he’s relentless—kneeling over you, phone hovering, his free hand brushing hair from your face. “Pleeeease, baby. I’m begging. I need this. I’ll never delete it. I’ll think about it every time I’m away from you. Please, baby, you don’t understand how fucking perfect you look right now.”

There’s something about the raw need in his voice—the way his pupils are blown wide, the way his chest is still heaving—that makes you finally nod. “One,” you say, and his grin is instant, boyish and filthy all at once.

He takes it slow, angling you, making sure the light catches the slick sheen on your skin, the drip sliding lower. You hear the faint click of the shutter, and then another, and another—because of course one wasn’t enough.

By the time he’s set the phone down, you’re still glaring at him through the afterglow. “You’re disgusting,” you mutter, swiping at a streak of cum before it can slide too far. “You couldn’t even wait? You just had to have a trophy?”

Changbin just laughs—deep, shameless, still a little breathless. “Damn right.” He leans down, catching your wrist before you can wipe more away, pushing your hand back to the bed. “Don’t clean it up yet. I like looking at it.”

“Bin—”

“What?” He grins, smug and unrepentant, dropping a kiss to your sternum right above the mess he made. “You’re telling me you don’t like knowing your boyfriend is gonna be jerking off to you when he’s halfway across the world? That I’ll be in some hotel bed with this picture open, wishing I was here instead?”

You open your mouth to scold him again, but he’s already nosing between your breasts, tongue swiping at a drop like he’s trying to taste the memory. “Mm… yeah,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. “That’s gonna keep me sane when I’m gone.”

“Or insane,” you shoot back, but he just hums, smiling into your skin.

“Same difference.”

One day earlier

You knocked on the on-call room door and then walked in. Jack was still fast asleep, face down on the bed, not even bothering to take his prosthetic off.

You sighed and walked over, quietly putting down the cup of coffee to the side. You lifted his scrubs off and gently took it off.

He murmured something in his sleep so you sat on the floor next to him, scrolling on your phone as you drank the coffee you made him. Few minutes later, he mumbled, “you type really fast.”

“Good morning” you smiled “shift’s over, sleepy head”

He pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes “why did no one wake me?”

“We had Shen”

His lips parted slightly, then he sank back into the bed.

“Coffee?” you passed him the cup.

He mumbled “It’s half empty”

“That’s how the barista served it” you smiled and sat next to him on the bed.

“Thank you” he said. voice low and rough, still half asleep. “Was the shift alright?”

“Meh. fine. Shen’s really laid back — he tried to have a chat with me mid CPR”

He let out a small chuckle. “Is that your way of telling me he’s your favourite attending?”

“I thought that was obvious” you teased him.

“huh” he nodded and looked down at the cup “that definitely didn’t hurt my feelings”

“i'll make it up to you i promise” You smiled “i can make us breakfast?”

He smiled back. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Being my second favourite attending, i guess” you said as you got off the bed. “Let’s go, i’m starving”

Your friendship with Jack was casual, friendly, flirty, teasing and maybe an occasional cuddle at your sleepovers.

But one thing it wasn't was sexual.

Why?

Neither one of you knew why.

Maybe it was a fear of ruining whatever you had.

Maybe it was not wanting to put a label on it.

Was he your best friend? platonic soulmate? Just a friend? an acquaintance?

You didn’t think it needed to be any more than that. He was your jack, and you were his.

“bacon’s burning” he said over your shoulder.

“I like it burnt” you mumbled, not wanting to admit your mind was elsewhere. He passed you a cup of tea. “i asked for coffee”

“and it’s bedtime soon so you need a tea”

You turned off the stove and faced him “Jack, does this look like the ER to you?”

He gave you an annoyed smile.

“just reminding you that you’re not boss in this house”

He said, “you’re mean”

“And you are so bossy. Did you ever think to maybe… treat me to something that i like?” you teased.

“actually yes” a big smile broke across his face “i do, in fact have something for you. An early birthday present”

“But my birthday is in four days!”

“hence the early in my sentence” he said sarcastically as he walked away.

You tried to hide a smile as you watched him walk over to his bag. The moment you saw the small jewellery box, you jumped up in excitement.

“happy birthday sweetheart”

“i fully expected you to get down on one knee” you teased him as you held the box in your hand.

“that’s later” he winked “open it”.

You threw your hands over him and hugged him first. “thank you, i love it already”

He laughed and pulled back "You've not even seen it yet!"

"it doesn't matter i know i'm going to love it anyways"

You opened the box and found a gold locket necklace with a Robin engraved on it.

Inside the locket was another engraving that read

When robins appear, loved ones are near

“it’s a British saying” he said softly, “i thought you could have your dad closer to your heart, everyday”

“oh, Jack…” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks before you even realised they were falling. “I don’t know what to say.”

“i didn’t mean to make you cry”

“No, no! These are happy tears!” you said quickly, smiling through them. “i love it Jack!”

You wrapped your arms around him again, this time hugging him tightly. You buried your face in his chest as more tears fell. Jack held you gently and didn’t pull away. He simply let you cry until your breathing evened out and the tears finally stopped.

“you good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded and eventually pulled back, wiping your tears.

He brushed your hair behind your ear and he stared into your eyes. he let himself get lost in them more times than he should have.

“this is the best present i’ve ever gotten, jack” you whispered “and i’m so glad it came from you”

“i love seeing you happy” he murmured.

You wrapped one arm around his neck and tiptoed to his lips. “this is a one off thank you”.

You leaned in and kissed him.

Your stomach flipped at the way his hands grabbed you and pulled you closer. Fire ignited in your belly and your heart hammered so loudly in your ears, you heard nothing else.

You wondered what would this be labelled as?

He was just Jack, your Jack.

The kissing slowed down and he let go of your lips with a wet pop.

“Thank you, handsome” you whispered.

“Anytime” he smiled “i liked that”

“me too” you did shyly “it was nice but do you know what is nicer?”

“tell me” he teased.

“bacon” you joked.

Jack let out a warm laugh. “And just like that, the teasing is back.” He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll make breakfast, birthday girl. You go sit on the couch.”

Your fingers traced around your lips, feeling Jack's lips on yours as you wandered around the apartment, thinking about your moment.

You ate breakfast like you always did, on the couch with a comfort show on, next to each other until one of you fell asleep. This time it was you, passed out in the corner. Jack threw a blanket over you and slept on the other side.

His alarm woke him up, and he found you fast asleep in the same position.

“sweetheart i’m gonna have to go” he crouched down on the floor to your level.

You stirred and mumbled sleepily, “okay”

“Can you be safe tonight please?” he asked, brushing his thumb across your cheek “Let me know what you get up to?”

You replied sleepy “mhmmm"

“Promise me” he whispered.

"I promise you i will be safe”

He kissed your forehead and walked out the door.

The bar was busy, everyone was rowdy and loud. Drinks were served, lots of them. They toasted many times to the birthday girl, you.

Statistics showed that one in five women will experience some form of sexual assault in their lives.

But that’s wrong - It's more common than that.

Women don’t report their predators.

What were you wearing?

Were you drunk?

Did you invite him in?

But did you say no to him?

And so on.

And what happened next was not your fault, regardless of what your mind told you.

It happened quickly. He wanted to look at the gold necklace that sat around your neck, you said no. Loud and firm but still polite.

He called you a pretty girl. Your stomach turned at the way he'd said it.

You told him to leave you alone.

He then told you to stop being rude.

Then it became physical. Too quickly, too privately, with no one around to see.

It took him less than few seconds to have his hands wrapped around you.

You cried, tried to scream and more importantly, tried to fight.

Your skirt was no longer around your hops and blood trickled down your top. A wet patch lay on your skirt.

Someone eventually stepped in — another guy.

“don’t touch me” you sobbed as someone helped you up.

But you were already touched. In too many places. The innocence was long gone, and you were now part of the statistics.

Chaos, yells, security and too many eyes surrounded the scene. But why did you feel like this was your fault?

“you need to get to hospital” your friend said “he bit you”

You looked down and saw teeth marks, red and bloody, sitting on the side of your breast.

You don’t remember getting bitten. Maybe your brain hadn't registered it yet.

Jack had been keeping an eye on your location all night. You were texting him updates, pictures, and funny quotes from the night until you suddenly stopped.

He checked your location, and it read a different ER than PTMC.

He didn’t text this time; he called but you didn’t pick up.

Again, no answer.

Then he texted: if you don’t tell me why you’re in the ER i swear to God i’ll be there over myself in five.

Em got too drunk and fell. One, small, short lie. You could have told Jack what happened but what would his reaction be?

Maybe if you didn’t drink too much you could have fought him off

I told you to be safe

You should have called me

Why didn’t you come to my ER

Why were you alone in the bar?

But that wasn’t what Jack's reaction would be, you just didn’t know that. Couldn’t risk it.

So your life became a lie.

You didn’t lie to the nurses in the room who took your clothes away. The nurses that’s swabbed your body and mouth.

The nurses who couldn’t touch you or comfort you while you sobbed on their bed.

“he didn’t kiss me” you said as you saw the oral swab.

“we still have to do it, i’m sorry” she said gently.

“there will be someone else’s DNA. it’s uh… his name is Jack. The kiss was consensual and it was from yesterday.”

“okay sweet, we’ll make a note of it”

The nurses spoke with you but at one point, you stopped hearing them. You were trying to listen, but everything was muffled.

You were a small fish in a big bowl; everything looked distant and disoriented. Hands kept tapping on the glass window, scaring you. Where are they going to touch you, or keep intimidating you?

“can you grab me some sutures please?”

You weren’t listening to Henderson. Your mind was blank but echoey.

“sorry Dr Henderson — what uh… size?”

He frowned, not because he was upset, but because you never did this.

He repeated what he said. You nodded quickly and rushed out of the room.

The fish bowl was filling up with water quicker than you could swim. And you were running out of energy to want to breathe or fight for your life anymore.

This became a habit at work. Not listening, not talking, not looking.

“shit sorry” you mumbled as you bumped into someone. it wasn’t anyone, it was Jack, who you avoided for the last however many days since the incident.

“you alright?” he said softly noticing your panicked expression. “what happened?”

“what makes you say that?”

“you look upset, that’s all. And i’m wondering what happened”

“i’m not upset” you mustered one small bit of energy to look him in the eye.

“are you sure?” he said in a quieter tone “because you haven’t been yourself lately. And there’s a certain timeline that matches”

Your lips parted slightly, and you said “uh- what’s that supposed to mean?”

He touched your arm gently, but you flinched. He didn’t notice. Men didn’t notice that many details.

He ushered you into an empty room and said “Since your birthday weekend, sweetheart, you’ve avoided me. Since… we kissed”

You thought you were a terrible person, a worse friend, even, for forgetting you kissed Jack.

“you didn’t want to do anything on your actual birthday, which isn’t like you. You love your birthday, even more than Christmas.”

“sorry it’s been… a lot”

“talk to me, you tell me everything”

“i just…” you sighed “i think it hit me that im getting old and i guess i feel sad about that”

Jack didn’t believe you. Your expression was something completely different. You were a terrible liar too. He knew your habits, knew this wasn’t like you.

“okay if you say so” Jack had no encouraging words. “i’ll see you later?”

You muttered “sure” and walked away.

--

“foods in the break room” Jack stood over your shoulder “and it’s gone cold”

“i’m not hungry” you said quietly.

“that seems to be the excuse lately”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” maybe getting defensive would get him off your back.

“it doesn’t mean anything” he said quietly “i’m worried that’s all”

you dropped your shoulders in defeat and nodded. “thank you for the food”

“thank me when you’ve actually eaten something” he bit back and walked away.

You wondered if all men were animal-like; if they all bit when they got hungry, or threw a punch when things didn’t go their way. You wondered if Jack would be one of those men.

You walked into the break room just to prove a point. You stopped eating a while ago - when your body no longer wants to survive - you stop relying on fuel.

Jack watched you as you picked one pizza slice and sat in the corner to eat it. You picked around the food, took small bites, then put the rest in the bin.

He was losing his friend right in front of his eyes and he wondered if it was his fault. Did he scare you off with that kiss? Did he come on too strong?

Jack wanted more with you, he always did. But he also wanted you to be happy, so if it meant that he stayed your friend, then it would be just that. But then you kissed him, you made the first move.

And now you were fading away.

“did you hear about the sexual assault case the day shift dealt with?” someone said.

you felt an immediate lump in your throat.

“it was a terrible case” someone else added “Perlah said it’s the worst one they’ve ever seen”

Your eyes flicked over to Jack’s but his expression was blank. Was he not interested? Did he not care?

But Jack’s mind was thinking of you. and only you. he didn’t listen to any of the conversation.

The remainder of the shift all merged into one big blur. Just like your life was. A blur, a haze, a fish tank that needed shattering so you could stop swimming and eventually die.

“can i drive you home?” jack was standing behind you as you waited for the bus.

“what are you doing here?”

“i’m here to ask you if i can drive you home”

You said quietly “okay”

He took your bag from you without asking and walked you over to his car.

You wanted to avoid questions, especially about how you were feeling so you forced yourself to make conversation. “how was your shift?"

“it was… not bad. Heard the day shift got it much worse than us”

“We're always luckier than them”

“but we deal with the weirdest and the wildest” he joked, testing the waters, watching for a reaction.

“we’re definitely much better than them” a small joke, a shy smile. You wondered if your instinct was to continue making small steps as a survival mechanism. Although you didn’t want to survive?

“how was yours?” he asked.

“uh… fine i think. Passed by quickly”

Jack sighed and didn’t ask any further questions. Your tone was different. The way you spoke about work had changed. You didn’t complain about anything, tease him, joke, nothing. You were in complete silence all the time.

He watched how you sat uncomfortably in his car the whole ride home.

“thank you for driving me home”

“anytime” he gave a small smile. You got out of the car and closed the door, expecting him to follow, like he always did. But not this time.

You walked back to the car frowning, “you’re not coming?”

“do you want me to?”

“you always come up” you said quietly. “nothings changed, jack”

He nodded, turned off the car and got out, bringing his bag up with him.

He hadn’t slept over at yours in weeks; since you kissed.

He missed you, missed his friend, your jokes, your old self, your cooking. All of it.

Your apartment was empty, like you hadn’t been living here.

“Shoot, I don’t have stuff for breakfast” you said "i’ll run to the supermarket quickly."

“no, don’t. I'll order us food." he said softly "Why don’t you shower and get ready for bed?”

You nodded and quietly walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

By the time you were finished, Jack had already laid breakfast out on the table.

“you got me a coffee?” you smiled looking at the drink “you always make me a tea after a shift”.

“but i know you prefer coffee and this time i won’t pressure you into going to sleep”

“huh” you took a bite of his food, then one out yours “yours is better”

“hey! that was a big bite” he joked.

You felt the blood drain away from your face and arms, feeling a off tingling sensation in your fingers.

You felt pain where a scar lay on your breast.

You forced a small laugh and continued eating.

“are you staying over?” you asked jack as you cleaned up.

“it’s up to you sweetheart” Jack wanted to stay. He wanted to check in, make sure you were eating and sleeping. But he wasn’t going to push it.

“i don’t mind” you said softly “it’s up to you” Another test, to see if he would push boundaries.

“it’s your home, you need to tell me whether you want me to stay”

“you were never this formal before”

What Jack wanted to respond: and you were never this sad, secretive and broken before, but he stayed quiet.

“sorry just tired” he said quietly.

“please stay?”

“of course i will. i’ll take the couch”

“see you in a few hours” you gave him a small smile and walked into the bedroom.

Sleep came quickly, whether you want it to or not. You slept too much but ate too little. But sometimes even sleep betrayed you with images and feelings. There was one spot on your thigh you scratched, over and over again, as if scratching it would make that feeling go away. It didn’t.

Jack woke up to the sound of whimpering. He thought he had dreamt it, but it was coming from your apartment, your bedroom specifically.

You were crying in your sleep.

Jack sat on the floor by your bed, forehead resting on yours, playing gently with your hair, telling you it was all going to be okay.

But he didn’t know what was going to be okay.

He stayed there until your cries woke you up.

“hey it was just a nightmare” he said quietly “go back to sleep, i’ll stay here”

You nodded and shifted on the bed to make room for him.

“you sure?” he asked.

You nodded again.

He got in bed with you, watched you as you stared at the ceiling. Fresh tears now spilt down your face but he didn't ask why.

“hey jack?” you said quietly “what did you think of that assault case that the day shift dealt with?”

“i don’t know much about it… i didn’t ask. But I know enough”

“in what way?”

“i don’t know what happened to her but all i know is she got sexually assaulted” he said “and that’s all i need to know. Isn’t it?”

“i don’t think i'm following” you wanted to know more.

“she was sexually assaulted, i don’t need to know details to know the level of it. Assault is assault, whether it’s a touch, a word or something else. The severity of it can only be… assessed by the victim”

You nodded.

“why?”

“just wanted to see how you felt about it”

he said softly “i don’t think it’s my feelings you have to worry about”

You turned to face him, then gently moved up next to him, pressing yourself against his chest. Jack didn’t hesitate for one second. He pulled you in closely and tightly, felt your tears and heard your sobs until you went back to sleep.

He didn’t ask. He eventually stopped asking how you were feeling. Instead, he started showing up or doing things.

Coffee was next to you when you needed it. The water bottle was filled without you expecting it to.

Food was by your station when he thought you needed to eat. Your fridge was stocked up whether you wanted it to be or not.

He drove you home most mornings.

He got used to your new silence.

But he never got used to hearing you cry.

He stayed over more often, on the couch. But he always ended up in your bed, hugging you tightly as you cried.

He did too, one night. At the cruelty of whatever made you feel this way.

He had loved you too deeply, but he watched you fade away, without telling him why.

“the police is here, wanting to speak with Jack” you heard someone from the dayshift say “they didn’t look happy"

“what?” you said as you walked over to them “where are they?”

“they’re looking for him” she pointed at the two officers walking over to Jack who was in the trauma room. “They asked about you too”

Your heart sank, and you felt bile slowly bubble up in your throat.

You walked towards the officers, wanting to speak with them but it was too late because they were already in the room.

Jack frowned as he saw them walk in. “can i help you?”

“Jack Abbot?”

“that’s me?”

“we received a report that a sexual assault case has been made against you”

“what?” Jack had a look of horror on his face.

Robby was in the room.

Langdon was in the room.

Princess was in the room.

You were in the room but stood behind the officers.

Everyone’s eyes looked at Jack.

Jack’s eyes immediately teared up, becasue

1. he knew that he would never do such a thing.

2. Someone out there had been sexually assaulted. Yet another victim.

3. A false claim such as this one, would destroy his career. Everything he had worked hard for.

He saw his life slip away from him as they stepped forward towards him.

“Officers” you said from behind, and they both turned around.

Jack saw your expression and something clicked in him. You were broken because someone broke you.

You had been assaulted but you blamed him?

They looked at your name badge then said “you can’t be in here."

“no, i need to speak with Jack” you cried “please”

“you need to leave” the officer said firmly “Now. You can’t be in here”

“no please” you cried, slipping past them trying to get to Jack “i know this about my case, and i already told them, it was consensual!”

“what was non-consensual?” Jack asked, looking between you and the police officers.

You let out a small sob and shook your head as you stood next to him.

“can we talk somewhere private?” the officer said “without her being present”

“i’m not leaving his side” you shook his head “i spoke with someone, and explained that his DNA would be found, but it was consensual! I promise it was”

The officers looked at each other, not believing you.

“check the paperwork” you cried “check it! it’s all in there! i signed it!”

Too many confused eyes were now on you. Everyone stood still, too stunned to make a move.

Then one of the officers walked out of the room, making a phone call and the other one flicked through her phone, looking at scanned copies of the report.

The tension in the room could cut glass and your sobs filled the room.

“i’m sorry for the confusion” the officer said, gesturing to the other officer on the phone outside “you’re correct, we’ve got the wrong person”

“What person?” Jack demanded.

They looked at you first.

“Someone answer me right this fucking second!” Jack yelled and Robby gestured for him to calm down.

No one answered.

He turned over to you and, quieter, he said “sweetheart, what was non-consensual?”

You shook your head again, hand on your stomach soothing the nausea. “i can’t”

The look on his face was a mix of confusion, and maybe anger.

“I'm sorry” you hiccuped through sobs “it’s all my fault”

“i think the show is over” Robby said, ushering for everyone including the police officers to leave.

Once they were gone, Jack’s voice cracked. “Something happened. I know it did. I’ve been trying to figure it out for weeks… and then i hear my DNA was found on you through an assault report?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. Everything was becoming too blurry.

“Please" his voice was shaking "tell me i’m begging you i need to know. did i do something? did i upset you?”

“no, no” you cried “it was someone else"

“what did he do?” he asked quietly “you can tell me anything”

“i can’t” you sobbed “because you’d get mad”

“i would never do that sweetheart”

You closed your eyes tightly, bracing yourself.

“it was my birthday weekend and i was too drunk. and uh someone i don’t know who, wanted to look at the necklace you got me and i said no”

Your voice trembled as you walked over and pulled the curtain shut. “So he pushed me against the wall, then he did this”

You took your top off, and pulled down your bra slightly, revealing a bite mark.

Jack wanted to yell, cry, scream.

But he felt himself lose balance so he leaned against the wall.

Not only did someone break you, but someone scarred you.

“he then-” you hiccuped through sobs again “i was on the floor and he was on top and then someone eventually got to him but he had already ejaculated on me. On my clothes”

Silence.

Out of everything you had imagined, silence was the one reaction you hadn’t prepared for.

“please say something” another sob “please are you mad?”

“why would you think i’m mad at you?” Jack’s eyes were glassy as he slowly walked over to you. “sweetheart what are you even talking about?”

“i don’t know people- family, friends they all say maybe don’t wear something too short or don’t drink or-“

“look at me” he said quietly “please look at me”

You hesitated but eventually met his eyes. He grabbed your scrub top and helped you put it back on.

“I would never, ever think that about you or anyone else, okay?” he said softly “you are not to blame. This was not your fault. Do you understand that?”

You shook your head “I don’t know what i did wrong I don't—“

He cut in gently, cupping your face. “you did nothing wrong, sweetheart, nothing wrong”

You cried “but why me”

“Because he’s a predator. Calling him an animal would be unfair on a whole species out there that wouldn’t do what he did. He’s an illness with no treatment that no one wants. A pathetic excuse of a human being. That’s what he is”

You nodded.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“because i was scared”

“of me?”

“of your reaction”

“do i scare you? my reaction or words or any of me?”

“never”

“then why?”

“i didn’t want you to think i was being stupid. maybe i shouldn’t have been out that night or maybe if i gave him the necklace then—“

“There’s a million maybes” he said “but there is one thing that is guaranteed. That this was not your fault and only his”

He pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly as you cried against his chest.

“i’m sorry the police said that. Everyone knows now about us"

“don’t worry about everyone” he said quietly “can we go home now? talk about it later please? once you’re ready?”

You muttered “okay”

“we’d need to see everyone though, are you gonna be okay with that?”

You nodded.

Everyone was outside the room, anxiously waiting for a big reveal.

But there was none of that.

You followed Jack out of the room; your expression told everyone what they needed to know.

something happened.

you needed time to heal.

don’t ask questions.

And that’s what everyone did. The weeks that followed, life slowly went back to normal. Your new normal.

“i have a surprise for you” jack said excitedly as he pulled up outside his house “you’re gonna love it”

You smiled at his excitement, even though your own felt buried somewhere deep inside you — too far to reach right now. Still, you had been working hard to reconnect with that part of yourself.

You got out of the car and he rushed to your side. “I’m gonna cover your eyes okay?”

You nodded and he quickly put a blindfold over your eyes.

“am i okay to touch your hips to guide you in?”

“yes, jack” you melted at his thoughtfulness.

He gently and slowly guided you into his house, to the garden.

He took the blindfold off, and you opened your eyes to see your friends gathered around the pool. Birthday banners and balloons filled his entire garden.

Everyone yelled “surprise!”

“Jack, it’s not my birthday” you said surprised, and also confused. “it was months ago. Baby i’m so confused”

He turned you gently toward him. This time, you didn’t hesitate — you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Jack understood immediately so his hands settled on your hips, fingers pressing lightly into your skin as he pulled you against him.

“he took your birthday away from you, sweetheart, so you deserve a redo of it. I love celebrating you, and you love celebrating it.” he smiled “so, happy birthday. It doesn’t matter that it’s months late. It matters that today, birthday girl, you get to celebrate and have fun. Somewhere where you’re comfortable and happy.”

“Jack how did i get so lucky?”

“i must be your lucky charm” he teased.

You hesitated at first and Jack felt it too. “Jack, I don’t know how… I'm going to change, after what happened. But for now i want to do this, as a thank you and because you mean so much to me.”

You kissed him, gently and softly.

You had thought that you might burn alive if another man touched you.

You had thought that your body will reject him, like a body rejecting an transplanted organ and quickly shutting down

But your body didn’t.

You were surprised that you were turned on. And it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was comforting because it was love you knew and you were familiar with.

Maybe the predator didn’t take your innocence away. Maybe he didn’t take anything away. Maybe you got it all wrong.

He took nothing from you.

Not even the necklace he wanted to touch.

All he did was touch your skin.

Skin that sheds millions of dead cells every day.

The skin he touched was dead and long gone.

“Where are you going?” you asked as Jack tried to walk away.

“I’m giving you girls your alone time”

oh no, you’re joining in,” you said smiling “c’mon put the feather boa on"

Jack grinned and joined in on the chaos.

It took one awful man to make you part of the statistics.

But you got it all wrong.

You thought it was a shame that you were part of this statistics. That you didn’t want to be part of this club.

No one wanted to be part of it.

But life gave you an unlimited membership to a club where strong women all came together.

But life also gave you membership to a club where you found Jack. Just Jack.

You loved Jack, however that love would be interpreted on paper.

Jack was patient, thoughtful and kind.

Jack loved you, loud and clear.

And that’s all you needed in this moment, was just Jack.

—

notes:

i included some things on purpose to highlight some other important issues

announcing in front of everyone that a sexual assault case has been made about Jack = an unnecessary power move from the police force

taking them months to speak with the suspect - slow processing papers, ignoring women’s issues.

Mistaking Jack for the suspect - sloppy work from the police department and ignoring what was said and what was on the paperwork

You didnt bother texting back anyone that invited you, knowing they just wanted more to be merrier (usually the jocks and popular girls trying to get more popular).

You didnt bother dressing yourself up for them either because the last time you did, someone "accidentally" bumped into you and spilt their drink on you.

You never bothered to put on any makeup, because most guys there either werent interested in something serious or they were already necking with a girl unabashedly.

So to say your very own closest friend, Ethan Szelag, invited you to a party was a little shocking. Mostly because of the fact he was more of a loser in the hierarchy of school and he hated parties as much as you. Maybe even more.

Ethan | today 18:16 ゛Hey so i got invited to a party by one of the basketball jocks. I wasnt interested at first but him saying i could bring a plus one had me considering it

A pause from his messages, like he was genuinely considering this. If this was stupid and if he should just delete every message he sent to save face. But seeing you online and already typing a response had him rush out the plus one invitation in pure panic.

Ethan | today 18:17 ゛Would you be my plus one?

He chucked his phone to the other side of the room the second he pressed send, his hands starting to suddenly sweat as he stared at the wall. Palms sweeping over his pants to try and stop the sweating.

Oh god. Its like asking someone out in high school all over again.

Despite being friends with you for quite a while now, he only recently developed a crush towards you... not that he ever did anything with it. Hed rather pine over you helplessly and uselessly than to confess and risk your long and precious friendship. Really!

Ethan had half the mind to pack his things right now and fly over to the other side of the world. But his phone screen litting up had him pause in his frenzy.

Cautiously threading back over to his phone, he unlocked it and carefully peeked at the grey chat bubble, hoping it wasnt anything... too mean. God, he hoped you knew that this was him asking you out.... but also he hoped you wouldnt suspect a thing.

You | today 18:20 ゛Sure Id rather you not be all alone and drunk

... i guess.. thats a win then?

- Despite popular belief that guys didnt take that much time getting ready for social gatherings, Ethan seemed to be the sole exception. You took your sweet time too, but you were already finished when he barely even picked out an outfit. He wanted to wear something that didnt scream desperation but also that didnt tell you that he wasnt taking this seriously. Something comfortable but not too lazy. Something that would catch your eye but not make it too obvious. But seeing your text message pop up on his lockscreen had him panicking further– oh god— were you already waiting for him? You | today 20:56 ゛R you done yet?? Ethan promised you up and down that he would pick you up, so arriving to your place late was definitely not an impression he was ready to give so carelessly. Not wanting to leave you waiting any further, he quickly threw on a spare hoodie and some normally fitting pants… not his best fit, but it would have to do for now. He grabbed his phone and keys, quite literally rushing out the door — almost tripping over a pebble on his front door and almost eating gravel like an idiot — to reach his car and plop inside. With a sloppy turn of his car keys, the engine turned on which — thank god, oftentimes it would just whir without ever turning on. So him being in a rush right now and it magically working just fine was a pure miracle! Though.. the way he was driving to your place was worrisome. A cop couldve definitely pulled him aside and hand him a speeding ticket, but fortunately (or unfortunately?) there werent any nearby this neighbourhood.

When the brunette saw your house just a few feet away, he pressed on the brake and stopped his car, hastily fishing out his phone from his hoodies pocket, almost dropping it in the process yet his quick reflexes saved his pathetic ass. He rushed to unlock his phone again and text you, he didnt see you anywhere waiting for him outside, so he just guessed you were still inside. Hopefully youre not too mad at him for being late. Ethan | today 21:00 ゛Im here!! Ethan sighed in relief, you guys could still make it to that party, even if just a little lat—

He felt himself go completely still and his tongue get stuck in his throat, the sight of you walking out and locking your front door behind you had him pausing in his seat, looking so incredibly attractive and breathtaking. His body instinctually slouched in the car seat, eyes wide as he just kept staring at you like a lovesick fool. He swore he felt himself fall even more head over heels for you. He snapped out of his trance when you reached the passenger side and opened the door. Straightening up his posture in a flash (still unable to stop gawking at you and how pretty you looked) his hands reached out to grip his steering wheel, hoping you wouldnt notice how shy or nervous he suddenly looked. “R-ready?” “Mhm,” you just hummed and he felt like melting into a puddle. The subtle and sweet fragrance you sprayed on filling the car, effectively filling his head with even more thoughts of you. He was so down bad. Ethan bumped his forehead onto the edge of the steering wheel, careful not to have it honk as he just tried to collect himself, immediately making you furrow your eyebrows at his antics “.. You okay?” “Y- No— yeah… lets go” he winced out loud when his voice cracked like a highschool boys would, sitting up straighter again before pressing on the gas. You eyed him suspiciously but didnt think much of it for now. -

Ethan stopped his car again when he reached the right address, checking his phone for confirmation before sighing and fixing up his hair. He was trying so hard not to make his staring obvious. “Should… we go in now?” “Why are you so jittery?” You questioned him instantly, making his shoulders wind up in unease… was he really that obvious? “W- wh—” You just smiled with a teasing glint in your eyes “What? Is the nerd nervous?” It wouldnt hurt to interrogate him a little further. “Wh- why would i be nervous?” He forced out a laugh, before coughing into his fist. He better head inside before he gets any redder and lets you see that. With a raspy clear of his throat, Ethan opened the car door without any more words and closed it behind him, waiting a bit for you to follow suit and then head inside with him. The suburban house in front of you two was practically bouncing left and right from the loud, blaring music. Colorful lights of pink, green and red shining out from the window. Now was probably the best time to back out if the both of you didnt want to— oh well youre already walking towards the front porch without much caution. Well.. So much so for trying to talk you out of this. Ethan groaned again when you turned around to face him, making sure he was still following you. With hesitant steps, he reached your side. Before opening the door for you. The environment inside the house seemed like a whole entirely different world. Loud party-popular music playing on the speakers from the living room, booze and snacks easily accessible, just lying on the kitchens island counter. Along with a couple of pairs already making out without a care in the world. The boy next to you swore he could feel his gut already churning, both from the uncomfortable experience and the idea of somehow ending up like those shameless horndogs with you. But seeing his best buddies: Max and Eddie walk up towards him to greet him seemed to calm him down, even if just a bit.

“Ethan! Glad youre here” Max was the first one to speak up, hands wrapping around the aforementioned in a friendly hug, only to suddenly turn to the side and wrap his bicep and forearm around Ethan in a headlock. Maxs body turned to face you “Ohh? Is this your date?” Ethan felt like fainting now. His face burning up further as he tried to squirm out of Maxs grip. “No Max- They are just a friend of mine—” “Dont listen to him, he has been blabbering about you at every chance he gets, i already know your name.” Max let go of Ethan when the latter kept grumbling empty threats, now properly introducing himself and the other guys in the group “Wheres Jacob?” Ethan inquired curiously, looking around the unfamiliar place without much avail on seeing Maxs best friend. “Ah– he didnt tag along. He had some stuff to finish, plus he isint the kind of guy to like getting shitfaced and smothered by hot chicks like us” Eddie answered nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest like it was just a regular tuesday for him and Max. Max spoke up again “Hey- you two have fun though, okay?” ruffling Ethans hair before turning around and weaving into the jumping crowd again with Eddie in tow.

Ethan turned towards you after fixing up his hair for the umpteenth time today, opening his mouth to ask you what to do next, only to have you cut him off “Ill go get something to drink.” “A-ah.. okay”

- The whole rest of the night he was mostly alone, standing in a corner with a red solo cup in hand, halfway filled up with some drink he wasnt that much of a fan of, but whatever was enough to burn his throat when he saw you get a little too close to a guy was good enough for him. He didnt mean to get jealous.. no really. Its not like he owned you or anything. But he just couldnt help feeling his heart get dangerously close to shattering whenever he saw you across the room, anywhere but near him. That was… until you walked up towards him again (He ignored the fact he perked up like a puppy when you did) and grabbed his forearm. “Lets hit the road” You slurred lightly. Not too drunk to be a useless heap of bones but not sober enough to not have any fun. “Sure– yeah.” He nodded without much thought at your request, placing the cup down somewhere randomly and grabbing your wrist. Not too tight to hurt but not too loose to let you slip away this time.

Luckily he didnt drink that much (literally one or two sips, he wasnt a big fan of alcohol in general) so he was perfectly capable of driving you back to your place. Its a little unfortunate how he didnt have much fun tonight. At least you seemed to though. Ethan guided you back towards his car, opening and closing the passenger door for you before lightly jogging over to the drivers side, starting the car once more and setting up the GPS map back towards your place. But before he could type in your address, your hand reached out to grab his wrist. Effectively stopping him and also making his heartbeat skyrocket. “No.” You mumbled, making him tilt his head towards you in confusion “No what..?” “Lets go to that newly opened ice cream place.” “I.. i dont have my wallet with me..” “Its okay, i do.” To say he was a little ashamed right now wasnt entirely a lie. He wouldve gladly paid anything for you in a heartbeat, yet with him rushing out his front door left him only with his phone and car keys. “Please.” If he was standing right now, he wouldve surely dropped to the floor from that word alone. “Alright…” He sighed out, turning off the touchscreen in the center of his console, grabbing the steering wheel instead. Actually, maybe getting ice cream wasnt that bad of an idea, it was a nice way for him to finally spend time with you on his so called “date” (He was the only one considering that, even after having you nowhere near him the entire night). Besides — it was a good way to end the night off on a good note! -

After the two of you got your desired ice cream — he decided on a good old vanilla with chocolate chips, with you having your own favorite flavor — he decided it would be nice to eat them on the hood of his car, stargazing and just chatting. .. Not because it was romantic, pssht- noo…

Okay– it was kind of romantic in his eyes, but he was sure you didnt feel the same (it broke his heart a bit, but he didnt blame you) so it didnt really.. exactly matter.

“Hey.. Ethan?” “Yeah?” he stopped licking the cone, twisting his body to face you curiously. Silence, but not because you forgot what you wanted to say.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had a lot of fun today.” You murmured out softly, making him pause in eating his delectable dessert. His mind is already filling with even more pictures of you: how great you looked just enjoying the late night silence with him, how you looked so easy and carefree on his car, eating and spending time with him.

You had no idea how much more happier he is when youre around.

“No problem, i knew you needed to go out and touch a bit of grass.” He teased, but his words did hold some kind of sincerity, he knew how much you didnt like parties. And as much as he hated the fact he couldnt really spend time with you during the party bit, it made his heart swell seeing you so happy. So far and unreachable yet glowing like a breath-taking star. Ethan wanted to admire you a bit more while you kept staring up at the black night sky, but the little dollop on your nose had him bugged a bit. “Hold on- stay still” He had laser focus on the tip of your nose as he inched closer towards you. The way he kept his unwavering attention on you had you worried, it gave you the impression you have a fly on yourself and he was ready to swat it away. What happened though, was even more staggering. His lips pressed gently on the tip of your nose, kissing away the cream you had no idea you even had. You couldnt help but just stare at him like he just set a curse on you and your entire future and past bloodline. When Ethan pulled back, his face went beet-red. Shit. Maybe he shouldnt have done that and shouldve just handed you a napkin. Like a normal person would. “I- im sorry– i dont.. i dont know what came over me..!” He laughed out nervously, hoping you would just laugh it off or something. But no. Nothing. “I- just.. you had some on your…” He rambled off to try and help his case.

He felt so odd.

Yet.

You didnt flinch back or slip away from him. No, You actually leaned in closer. He was incredibly shocked at first, shoulders tensing up when your eyes flickered down to his lips. Oh god. This wasnt happening, right? Surely— You kissed him. On the lips. Without even saying a single word. His shoulders went slack immediately, kissing you back like he has been holding back this entire time and now was finally the time he could feel free and unrestricted. Only when he leaned even closer towards you, did you pull away. “You had some on your lips.” You teased shamelessly, while he kept staring at you dumbfoundedly. You teasing didnt feel as bad now though, he liked that. His lips widened into a smile while he kept on repeating that little flirt between you over and over again, how your lips felt on his and how he felt his heart get filled to the fullest. 

(He didnt have any ice cream on his lips)

“Ethan— wait– your ice cream!” The loud splat sounding onto the pavement shook him a bit, his head whipping down, a frown on his lips at the sight of his favorite ice cream now splattered and unsavable. He mustve had his grip on it loosen the second you leaned up all close to him.

He sighed. “Its okay, ill get another one next time.” His smile returned when he turned his head to face you. He didnt seem to be too bothered by that. Especially now after you kissed him. Kissed him like usual friends dont usually kiss.

He was so down bad.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

why does he always look so lost bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭

The green room after the soundcheck was hazy with leftover smoke and the low hum of amps still cooling down. Braeden was sprawled on the worn leather couch, towel around his neck, hair still damp from the set. Dylan and Cole were both grinning like idiots, phones in hand, while the rest of the crew—tour manager, guitar tech, a couple of the sound guys—huddled around the coffee table like they were about to drop the wildest news of the tour.

“Brae, dude. You gotta see this shit,” Dylan said, barely holding back a laugh as he tossed his phone into Braeden’s lap. “Tumblr account. Been blowing up in the fandom corners. She’s writing about you. Like… filthy you.”

Braeden raised an eyebrow, wiping sweat from his forehead. “What, another thirst account? I’ve seen the edits, man. Not that serious.”

Cole shook his head, leaning over the back of the couch. “Nah, bro. This one’s next level. She writes these long, nasty fanfics. Like she knows shit about you only someone paying way too much attention would catch. The way you bite your lip when you’re focused on a riff, how you stretch after shows, the little growl you do when you’re pissed at the monitors… it’s like she’s been in the room with us.”

One of the crew guys snorted. “Looks like she’s been spying on your ass. Read the latest one. We screenshotted the good parts.”

Braeden sat up slowly, thumb scrolling through the blog. The username was something unassuming, but the content… Jesus. Explicit, detailed scenes of him pinning girls down backstage, filthy dirty talk, sweat-slick skin, the way he’d supposedly choke and praise at the same time. The latest post was practically dripping: him fresh off stage, still buzzing with adrenaline, dragging some lucky fan into the tour bus and fucking her raw while the rest of the band was none the wiser.

His throat tightened. A slow heat crawled up the back of his neck.

“This is… insane,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop scrolling. His eyes lingered on a particularly dirty paragraph describing his hands, the veins, the way he’d talk someone through it while buried deep. “She wrote all this?”

Dylan clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, and she’s got hundreds. Some of them are straight-up obsessed. We thought it was funny at first but… she’s good. Too good. Like she studied you.”

Cole smirked. “Interview vibes mixed with pure smut. She caught that thing you do with your voice when you’re trying to stay quiet in hotel rooms. Wild.”

Braeden’s grip on the phone tightened. He could feel his cock twitch traitorously in his sweats just from reading a few lines. The fantasy was too vivid—too close. The thought of some girl out there getting herself off to him like this, writing every nasty little thing she wanted him to do to her… it was doing dangerous things to his head.

“Delete it from my brain, guys,” he said, voice a little rougher than he meant. “We’ve got a show tomorrow. I don’t need to be thinking about random Tumblr girl’s wet dreams.”

The crew laughed, but Dylan’s grin turned knowing. “Too late, man. You’re already obsessed. We can see it on your face.”

Braeden tossed the phone back, but the images stayed burned behind his eyes. Sweat, moans, his name on her tongue, legs wrapped around him while he fucked her like he owned her.

He rubbed a hand over his face.“Fuck.”

Later that night, back in his hotel room, Braeden couldn’t let it go.

The rest of the crew had gone out for drinks, but he’d begged off with some lame excuse about needing sleep. Instead, he was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, laptop open, room lit only by the blue glow of the screen. His hair was still messy from the shower, towel slung low on his hips, and his heart was already beating faster than it had any right to.

He typed the username from the screenshots into Tumblr’s search bar.

Your blog loaded instantly.

The header was subtle — just a soft photo of hands and a guitar pick — but the content was anything but.

Post after post of pure filth centered on him. Braeden Lemasters. Him.

He scrolled slowly, breath catching as he read the titles:

“Tour Bus Trap”

“Sex On The Beach”

“Found Love After Getting Laid”

His cock twitched hard under the towel just from skimming the first few lines. You wrote with this raw, desperate detail that made it feel like you’d been watching him for years. The way you described the vein that popped on his forearm when he gripped the mic stand. The low rasp in his voice when he was turned on. How he’d pin someone against the wall and growl right against their ear:

“You’ve been thinking about this cock all night, haven’t you, baby? Writing all that dirty shit about me… now you’re gonna fucking feel it.”

Braeden’s hand moved on its own, palming himself through the towel as he clicked into one of your longer fics. It was written in second person — you. Like you were talking directly to yourself, imagining it was you he was destroying.

He read the scene where “you” snuck into the green room after a show. How he’d find you there, already soaked, and fuck you over the couch while the crew was right outside the door. The way you described him pulling your hair, spitting filthy praise, and coming deep inside you while calling you his dirty little secret.

“Fuck…” Braeden muttered, voice wrecked. He was fully hard now, towel pushed aside, hand slowly stroking his cock as he kept reading. Every new paragraph made it worse.

You wrote about the way he’d look at you — that intense, half-lidded stare he got when he was focused. The sweat dripping down his chest after a show. How he’d be gentle one second and then absolutely feral the next, biting your shoulder while he pounded into you and whispered how no one else could ever take him like you do.

He opened another tab. Then another. He started saving your posts. Screenshotting the nastiest lines. His breathing was ragged now, thumb scrolling faster, eyes devouring every word you’d written about him using you, owning you, breaking you in the best possible way.

The obsession hit him like a drug. Who the fuck were you? How did you know these things? The little details about his hands, his voice, the way he got quiet and intense right before he came… it felt too real. Like you’d been in his head. Or worse — like you’d been in his bed.

Braeden leaned back against the headboard, stroking himself harder, eyes glued to the screen. He was imagining it now. Imagining finding you. Dragging you somewhere private and turning every single filthy thing you wrote into reality.

He whispered under his breath, voice low and rough:

“You have no idea what you just started, baby…”

The next morning the crew gathered in the hotel conference room for a quick production meeting. Braeden showed up looking a little too put-together for someone who’d barely slept — fresh black tee, hair still damp, eyes sharp with something restless behind them. He waited until the usual tour talk died down before clearing his throat.

“Hey, so… about that Tumblr account we saw yesterday,” he started, keeping his voice casual. “The writer’s clearly got a big following. Her stuff’s blowing up in the fandom. I was thinking… maybe we could reach out? Set up an interview or something. Like, a fan-creator spotlight. It’d be a good way to connect with the fans on a deeper level, show we appreciate the community. Plus she’s helping grow the fanbase with all those posts. We should thank her properly.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, trying to look professional. The crew nodded along, a few of them exchanging quick glances. Someone from social media already had the contact info pulled up from the blog’s ask box and DMs.

“Yeah, we can make it happen,” the tour manager said. “We’ll slide into her DMs, keep it respectful. Interview via video call or email first, see if she’s down. Could be good promo.”

Braeden gave a short nod, jaw tight. “Cool. Just… make sure it’s handled right. Don’t want it to come off weird.”

The meeting wrapped up shortly after. As everyone started filing out, Dylan and Cole lingered behind, matching shit-eating grins on their faces.

Once the door clicked shut, Dylan let out a low whistle. “Nice try, bro. ‘Connect with the fans.’ ‘Thank her for growing the fanbase.’ You’re so full of shit.”

Cole laughed, shaking his head. “We know you, man. You stayed up half the night reading her nasty little stories about you, didn’t you? Now you’re trying to manifest her into real life so you can actually fuck her.”

Braeden’s ears went red but he played it cool, shrugging. “It’s not like that. It’s good PR.”

“Bullshit,” Dylan said, clapping him on the back. “You want to turn every filthy fantasy she wrote into reality. We saw the way you were looking at that phone yesterday. You’re obsessed, dude. You want her.”

Cole smirked wider. “Admit it. You’re already imagining what she sounds like moaning your name for real instead of just typing it.”

Braeden rubbed the back of his neck, a slow, dangerous smile tugging at his lips despite himself. His mind flashed back to the dirtiest paragraphs he’d read last night — you on your knees, you bent over the dressing room counter, you riding him while whispering how much you needed his cock.

“…Maybe a little,” he finally muttered, voice low.

Dylan barked out a laugh. “A little? Bro, you’re gonna rail her the second she shows up. We all know it.”

Braeden didn’t deny it this time. The heat from last night was still simmering under his skin, thicker now.

He wanted to meet you.

He wanted to see if the girl behind those filthy words could handle the real thing.

You were curled up in your favorite oversized hoodie at your desk, the room dimly lit by your monitor and a string of fairy lights. The cursor blinked on a blank document, the only thing typed so far being the bold title at the top:

𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑼𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝑨 𝑭𝒊𝒄 ꨄ︎ (Braeden Lemasters X FemReader)

A new one. Filthier than the last. You’d been daydreaming about it all morning — Braeden catching you writing about him, the way his hands would feel pinning your wrists, the dirty things he’d growl in your ear while he fucked you senseless. You’d barely started outlining the scene when your email pinged.

The notification popped up in the corner of your screen.

Subject: Interview Opportunity with Wallows – Fan Creator Spotlight

Your heart stopped.

You clicked it open, eyes scanning the professional but friendly wording.

Hi there,

We’ve been loving your writing on Tumblr — the passion, the details, the way you capture the band’s energy. We’d like to invite you to do a short interview/feature with us. It would be a fun way to connect with the community and highlight creators like you who help grow the fanbase.

Would you be open to a casual video call or email exchange sometime this week? No pressure, just excited to chat.

Best,

Wallows Crew / Management

You stared at the screen, mouth dry. This couldn’t be real. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, the new fic completely forgotten. Heat rushed to your face as you realized they’d probably seen some of your most unhinged posts — the ones where you described Braeden ruining you backstage, choking you with praise, filling you up while you moaned his name like a prayer.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively. The idea of actually talking to them — to him possibly — sent a thrill straight through you.

You read the email three more times, pulse racing.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, a nervous, excited laugh bubbling up. “This is actually happening.”

The cursor on your new fic still blinked under the title, waiting. But right now all you could think about was what you’d say… and what might happen if Braeden himself ended up on that call.

You spent the next hour drafting and redrafting your reply, fingers shaking slightly on the keyboard. Your heart was hammering so hard you could feel it in your throat. Finally, you hit send on something that sounded chill and professional on the outside:

Hi!

Wow, thank you so much — this is insane in the best way. I’d love to do the interview! A video call works great for me whenever you’re free.

Their response came back faster than you expected.

Great to hear! We were thinking something even better — since you’re local to the area, how about an in-person chat? We can keep it casual at the venue after soundcheck. Braeden specifically mentioned he’d love to sit down with you one-on-one for this. He’s been reading your stuff and wants to thank you personally.

Does tomorrow afternoon work? We’ll send a car.

You screamed.

Literally screamed into your pillow, kicking your feet like a teenager. Braeden. Specifically. One-on-one. Your face burned as you reread the line over and over. The same Braeden you’d written hundreds of filthy scenes about — the one who pinned you down and called you his dirty little slut in your fics, who fucked you raw and whispered the nastiest praise while you fell apart on his cock.

And now he wanted to meet you. In person.

You typed back with trembling hands, trying (and failing) to sound normal:

Tomorrow afternoon is perfect. Thank you again, this is a dream.

Another reply popped up almost immediately.

Awesome. Braeden’s looking forward to it. See you soon.

You flopped back in your chair, thighs squeezing together as a rush of heat flooded through you. Your new fic titled “Once Upon a Fic” was still open on the other tab, completely abandoned. How the hell were you supposed to focus on writing about him when you were about to sit across from the real thing?

Your mind was spiraling — imagining his voice, his hands, the way he’d look at you if he knew even half the things you’d written about him doing to you. You were soaked just from the thought.

“Fuck… I’m actually going to meet Braeden,” you whispered, a giddy, horny little laugh escaping you. “This is going to ruin me.”

You had no idea how right you were.

The next afternoon, a black car pulled up exactly on time outside the back entrance of the venue. Your stomach was doing backflips the entire ride. You’d changed outfits three times, finally settling on something cute but casual — a little black skirt, cropped band tee, and your favorite boots. Your hands were clammy as you stepped inside, heart pounding so hard you were sure everyone could hear it.

A friendly woman from the crew greeted you right away, leading you down a quiet hallway to a cozy green room set up for the “interview.” She smiled warmly as she explained the setup.

“Alright, so the dynamic is pretty relaxed. We want this to feel natural — just a real conversation about your writing, how you got into the fandom, what inspires the fics, that kind of thing. Braeden’s really excited to talk with you directly. We’ll leave you two alone for about two hours so it doesn’t feel stiff or awkward with a bunch of us hovering. Sound good?”

You nodded, barely trusting your voice. Two hours. Alone. With Braeden. Your mind immediately flashed to every filthy scene you’d ever written — his hands on your thighs, his voice growling in your ear, the way you’d described him fucking you until you couldn’t think straight. Your cheeks were already burning.

“Perfect, He’ll be right in. Make yourself comfortable.” She left, closing the door softly behind her. You sat on the couch, legs pressed together, trying to breathe normally. The room smelled faintly of his cologne already — something woodsy and warm that made your pulse spike.

Then the door opened again.

Braeden stepped in, tall and effortlessly hot in a loose black button-up with the sleeves rolled up, exposing those veiny forearms you’d written about obsessively. His hair was messy in that perfect post-shower way, and when his eyes locked onto you, a slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

You blushed immediately. Hard. Heat flooded your face, your neck, even your chest. You couldn’t stop it. Your thighs clenched on instinct as you stared at the man you’d fantasized about ruining you in a hundred different ways.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and a little rough, like he’d been thinking about this too. He closed the door behind him, the click sounding way too final. “You’re her. The girl behind all those filthy stories.”

He took a step closer, eyes dragging over you slowly, appreciatively.

Fuck. You were already wet.

The second Braeden closed the door, your brain short-circuited. You stood up too fast, heart slamming against your ribs, cheeks still burning from that initial blush. Seeing him in person — real, breathing, tall and radiating that quiet intensity — hit different. This wasn’t pixels on a screen or words you’d typed in the dark. This was him.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, voice shaky with pure excitement. “It’s actually you. I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve been freaking out since the email—”

Before you could ramble any more, Braeden stepped forward and pulled you into a hug.

His arms wrapped around you firmly, one hand settling on your lower back, the other between your shoulder blades. He smelled like clean skin, faint cologne, and something warmer — the leftover heat from soundcheck. Your face pressed against his chest, and for a second everything felt electric. You hugged him back, fingers curling into his shirt, a giddy little laugh escaping you.

“You smell even better than I imagined,” you mumbled without thinking, then immediately froze.

Braeden chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest. He didn’t let go right away. When he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands stayed on your waist, thumbs brushing lightly over your hips.

That’s when reality crashed down.

He had read everything.

Every single filthy fic. Every scene where you wrote him fucking you raw, choking you, calling you his desperate little slut, coming deep inside you while you screamed his name. The ones where he bent you over the tour bus couch, the ones where he made you ride him while whispering the nastiest praise. All of it.

Your face went scarlet. You tried to step back, suddenly mortified, eyes dropping to the floor. “Shit… you’ve probably read all of it, haven’t you? I—I didn’t think anyone from the band would actually see the really dirty stuff and now I just—”

“Hey,” Braeden cut you off softly, tilting your chin up with two fingers so you had to meet his eyes. His voice dropped lower, that same raspy tone you’d written about a hundred times. “Don’t worry, baby. There’s nothing to be shy about.”

He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered:

“Actually… that’s the hottest thing ever.”

Your breath hitched hard. The way he said baby — exactly like you’d imagined — sent heat flooding straight between your legs. Braeden’s eyes darkened as he watched your reaction, that slow smirk returning.

“I read every word,” he continued, voice rougher now. “And I’ve been thinking about it since last night. About you writing all that nasty shit about me… getting yourself off to it. Now you’re here. Looking like that.”

He didn’t pull away. His hand stayed on your waist, grip tightening just a little.

You couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

They were right there — soft, slightly parted, the same lips you’d written about a thousand times: how they’d feel biting your neck, whispering filthy things against your skin, sucking marks into your thighs. Your gaze was locked on them, breath shallow, the air between you crackling.

Braeden noticed immediately. His smirk deepened, that intense half-lidded look you knew so well from every photo and every fantasy. He tilted his head slightly, thumb still gently holding your chin.

“You can kiss me, you know,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Don’t worry, baby. It’s more than okay. I’ve been dying to feel it… to have you show me everything you imagine when you write all that filthy shit about me.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. The permission, the hunger in his voice — it snapped something inside you.

You didn’t hesitate.

You surged forward, hands fisting in his shirt, and crashed your lips against his. The kiss was desperate, hungry, all the months of fantasizing pouring out at once. Braeden groaned into your mouth the second you made contact — a deep, satisfied sound that went straight to your core. His arms wrapped around you instantly, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, the other gripping your waist hard enough to bruise.

He kissed you back like he’d been starving for it. His mouth was hot, demanding, tongue sliding against yours with filthy intent. He tasted like mint and something darker, and he kissed exactly how you’d always written him — dominant but passionate, like he wanted to devour every little whimper you made.

You moaned softly against him, pressing your body closer, and Braeden walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. He didn’t pull away. Instead he deepened the kiss, tilting your head exactly how he wanted, sucking on your bottom lip before biting it gently.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I thought,” he growled against your mouth, barely breaking the kiss. “Been reading how you want me to ruin you… now show me, baby. Kiss me like you write it.”

You did. You poured everything into it — needy, messy, passionate — hands roaming over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. Braeden’s grip tightened, pulling you flush against him so you could feel exactly how hard he already was.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The kiss had you dripping, your whole body burning with months of built-up fantasy. Without thinking, you pushed Braeden back toward the couch, climbed straight onto his lap, straddling him. Your skirt rode up your thighs as you settled over him, hands gripping his shoulders, lips chasing his again like you were addicted.

Braeden let out a low, surprised laugh that turned into a groan, his hands immediately sliding under your skirt to grip your ass.

“Wow… you’re so fucking greedy, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, voice thick with lust. “Didn’t even wait two minutes. All those fics and you’re this desperate for me in real life?”

You didn’t answer with words. You just kissed him harder, deeper, grinding down against the obvious bulge in his jeans. Your tongue tangled with his, needy and messy, while his fingers dug into your soft flesh, guiding your hips in slow circles.

Braeden pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and hungry. His lips were swollen, breathing ragged.

“I know something that feels even better,” he said, voice dropping into that raspy tone you loved.

In one smooth move, he shifted you off his lap and onto his thick thigh, pulling you down so you were straddling just one leg. His knee pressed perfectly right against your clit through your soaked panties, the pressure firm and deliberate.

A sharp gasp escaped you as the contact hit exactly where you needed it.

Braeden smirked, watching your face with pure satisfaction. One of his hands stayed on your hip, slowly rocking you against his thigh, while the other slid up to cup the back of your neck.

“That’s it,” he growled softly. “Ride my thigh like you’ve written about riding my cock. Show me how bad you’ve wanted this, baby.”

The friction was delicious, every little movement sending sparks through your clit. You were already soaked, your wetness starting to stain his jeans as you rolled your hips again, moaning into his mouth when he pulled you down for another filthy kiss.

Your hips started moving on their own, grinding softly against Braeden’s thick thigh, chasing that perfect pressure on your swollen clit. Little whimpers slipped out of you as you humped him slowly, your soaked panties sliding against the rough denim.

Braeden groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he helped you. He guided your movements, pulling you down harder, rocking you back and forth with strong hands.

“That’s it, baby… just like that,” he rasped, voice low and filthy. “Fuck my thigh. Use me like you’ve been fantasizing about for months.”

The friction was driving you crazy. Every roll of your hips sent sparks shooting up your spine. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in, kissing and nipping at his skin while you kept grinding.

Then you glanced down.

The sight made your mouth water.

Braeden was rock hard, his cock straining painfully against his jeans, the thick outline obvious and twitching. You could see how big he was, how much he was leaking for you already.

Without thinking, you slid one hand down between your bodies and started palming him over his jeans. Your fingers traced the heavy length of him, squeezing gently, stroking him slowly through the fabric.

“Fuck…” Braeden hissed, hips bucking up into your hand. “Look at you… so fucking needy. You write all that dirty shit about my cock and now you’re touching it like you own it.”

You moaned softly, pressing your clit harder against his thigh while your hand kept working him. He felt massive, hot, and throbbing under your palm. You rubbed him firmer, loving the way his breath hitched every time you squeezed the head.

Braeden’s hand slid up your thigh, fingers slipping under your skirt until they brushed against your soaked panties.

“You’re fucking dripping, baby,” he growled, voice dark with lust. “Keep humping my thigh and stroking my cock just like that… good girl.”

Braeden’s breathing was getting heavier, his cock twitching hard under your palm. He grabbed your wrist gently but firmly, guiding your hand to the button of his jeans.

“Take it out, baby,” he murmured against your lips, voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel your hand on me properly.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You popped the button, tugged down the zipper, and slipped your hand inside. The second your fingers wrapped around his thick, bare cock, you both moaned. He was rock-hard, hot, and so big your hand barely fit around him. You started stroking him slowly, feeling every vein, the way he throbbed in your grip, the precum already leaking from the tip.

Braeden groaned deeply, hips bucking up into your fist. At the same time, his other hand gripped your ass hard, guiding your hips back and forth on his thigh with more force.

“Fuck, just like that,” he rasped, helping you jerk him off while making sure you kept grinding your soaked pussy against his leg. “Stroke my cock while you hump my thigh like a desperate little slut. That’s what you are, isn’t it? Writing all those filthy stories about me and now you’re living them.”

You whimpered, pumping him faster, twisting your wrist just right around the head the way you’d imagined a hundred times. The wet sounds of your hand moving on his leaking cock mixed with the filthy noises of you riding his thigh.

Braeden leaned in, biting your bottom lip before pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you. His gaze was intense, pupils blown wide with lust.

“By the way, baby…” he said, voice low and dangerously sweet, “you don’t get to cum until I say so. Understand?”

He squeezed your ass hard, forcing you to keep grinding even as your clit throbbed against his thigh, the pressure building dangerously.

“You’re gonna keep stroking me and riding my leg like a good girl… but that pretty pussy doesn’t cum until I give you permission. Got it?”

The pressure on your clit was unbearable now — every grind pushed you closer to the edge, but his earlier words echoed in your head. You weren’t allowed to cum until he said so.

“Please, Braeden…” you whimpered against his neck, voice shaky and needy. “Please let me cum. I’m so close… I’ve been good, I’ve been stroking you just how you like, humping your thigh like you told me. Please, baby, I need it. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You sounded pathetic, exactly like the desperate girls in your own fics, and it only made you wetter. Braeden groaned, his cock pulsing hot and heavy in your fist as he kept guiding your ass, forcing you to keep riding his thigh harder.

“Fuck, listen to you begging so pretty,” he rasped, lips brushing your ear. “All that filthy writing and now you’re falling apart on my leg like this.”

He suddenly gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark, lips parted, breathing ragged.

“Go ahead then, princess,” he murmured, voice dripping with lust and affection. “Cum for me. Only because you write so fucking well.”

That was all it took.

The orgasm crashed into you hard. You cried out, burying your face in his shoulder as your whole body shook. Your pussy clenched and throbbed against his thigh, soaking his jeans even more while your hand kept pumping his cock through it. Waves of pleasure rolled through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his lap.

Braeden held you through it, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other still tangled in your hair. He kissed the side of your head, murmuring soft praise against your skin as you came down.

“That’s my good girl… so fucking perfect.”

When your breathing finally slowed, he pulled you into a full, warm hug, pressing your body against his chest. You could still feel how hard he was, but he didn’t push for more right then.

“We should probably finish this ‘interview’ properly,” he said with a low chuckle, lips brushing your temple. “Don’t want the crew getting suspicious. But after that… we’re going back to my room. I’m nowhere near done with you, baby. I want to turn every single nasty thing you’ve ever written about me into reality tonight.”

He kissed you softly, almost sweetly, then smirked.

you were sitting in your bed with your head buried between your knees for half an hour now, ignoring the buzzing of your phone. you caught her with another girl. you should cry and feel miserable, and all you could think of was; 'finally! finally a reason to leave her!!'. all you could feel was happiness.

but leaving her wasn't easy. you tried a few times before.

'maybe it'll be different this time', you hoped. but the way you kept receiving notifications from her said otherwise. 'maybe if i ignore her for a few more minutes, she'll let me go.'

you tried to put your phone down, but your hands won't let you. your thumbs kept reaching for the screen in a desperate, involuntary action. you were powerless to stop it. you knew you shouldn't respond. you know you should walk away, but you couldn't. every time she messaged you, your heart beated faster and your breathing quickened. you knew this isn't the best thing for you, but a part of you was still clinging to hope.

'enough, stop it.' you ordered to yourself.

you picked up your phone, deciding to call your friend. she'll make you remember all the cruel things ellie did and leaving her will be easier.

your hands were shaking and you were truly scared of what's going to happen. you hestitated for too long before clicking on your friend's profile and.. lost your chance.

ellie was calling you. she wasn't giving up and she was probably pissed off by now.

you sighed and whispered; 'sorry' to your future self, before answering the call.

"why aren't you answering to my texts, huh?" she asked in an accusatory tone, as if you were the one who did something wrong.

your breath hitched as you heard her voice. there's no going back now. "i'm sorry, ellie, it's over." you mumbled and shook your head in disbelief. 'i'm sorry'?? for what? where was your confidence?

she took it from you, just like she's going to take anything she wants.

"i'll pick you up in a few minutes." she announced and you felt tears starting to well up in your eyes.

great. so she's on her way here.

you took a deep breath to stop your voice from quivering. "i'm not going anywhere- not with you."

ellie laughed, thinking it's all a joke. "you're funny, honey. you know you come crawling back to me everytime." she replies calmly. "so get ready. i'm coming to pick you up, and then we can talk about this. like grown-ups."

ellie was good at controlling you. she'll say she's coming to pick you up, and you'll be waiting on your porch when she arrives. she had a firm grip on you and she knew it.

not this time.

"like grown-ups?" you nervously laughed. "you cheated on me. again."

ellie didn't get angry. she wasn't even surprised.

"don't overreact, babe." she replied in an irritated tone. "it's not like it was anything serious. it's just some random girl. i'm still with you. you should know that."

you were stunned by her cavalier attitude. she really thought it's no big deal.

"leave me alone." if there was even a little bit of toughness in your voice before, it all left. now, you were just simply begging her to stop. "please."

ellie's confidence and her nonchalant attitude was getting to you. you felt angry, but at the same time, you were starting to doubt yourself.

you wanted to hang up, but you couldn't. you just waited for her reaction, praying this'll be the end. but you knew everything depended on what ellie wants, and for her, only her own good mattered.

ellie chuckled. "oh, sweetheart. you think you can just break up with me over the phone? we're not even having a fight here. come on, be reasonable. let's just talk this through. i'll be there soon."

you proudly raised your chin, even though she couldn't see that. the tears ruined your confident facade anyway. "i locked the door."

she stayed silent for a moment, not expecting that from you. but she always had a plan b, and you realised that as soon as you heard her laugh. "i'll check that myself."

you heard her car arrive outside your house, and an instant wave of regret washed over you.

she knocked on the front door. "i'm here, love. open up." her voice was gentle, with an apologetic tone.

you knew it was all a ploy to get you to open the door. you knew this was just another manipulative tactic she was using, but it was starting to work.

"come on, be a smart girl." she continued in a sweet voice. "or we'll do this the hard way."

you cursed yourself for how weak you felt, even though it wasn't your fault.

"ellie, please..." you begged, with as much authority as you could muster, but your pleads still sounded weak.

"what's that, babe? are you crying?" she responded in a mocking tone.

you felt powerless to resist her. your stomach twisted in knots, but your fingers reached for the knob. your other hand quickly wiped away your tears, though there were some visible smudges left. you stared at the doorknob in your hand, fighting every instinct in your body to open it and let her in. but you knew she'll get her way, sooner or later. you just wanted to get this over with.

with a shaking hand, you opened the door. you saw that ellie was holding a set of keys - there was definitely one to your house too. she could just unlock the door, but she wanted to check if you'll listen to her. you didn't even want to think about what would happen if you didn't give up.

she walked inside like she owned the place, and she didn't even look at you. she knew she's got you wrapped around her finger.

"good girl." she said, with the same mocking tone.

ellie's eyes darted around the room, and she walked over to take a closer look at a framed photo of the two of you on your shelf. she smirked, letting out a sarcastic 'hmph, so cute'.

you stood there, defeated, as she walked past you and paced around your home. she made herself comfortable, as if she belongs there. you tried to keep a brave face, but she could see right through it.

she sat down and turned to you. "tell me, why we ended up here?" she asked, her voice was cold and unforgiving, but it also sounded curious. "why are you trying to leave me? aren't you happy?"

you felt your lips tremble, as you parted them to speak. "you know damn well what you did."

she stood up and walked up to you, standing right in your face and leaning a little to match your eye level. "fucked another girl? huh? is that it?" she stroked your cheek with the back of her fingers, mocking your pout.

you flinched away from her touch, but she grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you towards her.

"i just had some fun." she said calmly. "besides, you can't blame me for wanting something different. just trying to make up for what you lack." she caressed your face, tracing your lips. it was almost gentle, as if she wasn't even trying to hurt you. but her words cut deep. "now, stop acting like a baby." she let go of your face. "i'm trying to have a mature conversation with you."

the obedient, scared side of you wiped your tears away and straightened up without thinking, but everytime you closed your eyes - everytime you blinked - another wave of salty liquid streamed down your cheeks.

you sniffled and tried to keep it together, but your body was shaking and feeling dizzy. still, you stood your ground.

"please, ellie... i can't do this anymore." you begged in a shaky voice.

"sh, shhh..." ellie wrapped her hands around you, rubbing your hair in a soothing motion. "don't say dumb things. i already know you can't live without me. you know that too." she grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to look at her for a second. "don't you?"

her embrace felt somehow comforting, not matching the poisoning effect of her words. you clinged onto her, hoping to get as much from this rare moment as possible.

but you knew, deep down, that this is just another manipulation tactic. you shouldn't fall for her games.

"there, there." she whispered to you. she held you even tighter, as if she was trying to absorb every ounce of energy you had left.

she pulled back and looked you straight in the eyes. "do you see what happens when you try to leave me, babe?"

"i am leaving you." you said with as much conviction as you could muster. "i'm serious this time."

but ellie just smiled, treating your words like a joke. "that's funny, honey. this is just another one of your little tantrums. you're just upset because you haven't gotten enough attention these days. but you don't want to lose me." she ran her hands along your cheeks and caressed your hair. "you'll come back to me. you'll come crawling back, just like always. because you can't live without me."

you instantly buried your face in her chest, as she started stroking your back.

she sighed. "are you finished?"

you felt ashamed. you failed, once again. you let her win.

you lifted your head up so you could see her expression. her smile was even more mocking and cruel now that you've given in to her.