Deviant Obsession

Chapter 36

Rhea

My sneakers slap against the polished floor of the psychology building as I hurry towards my Master's office, my latest paper clutched in my hands like a precious commodity. The hallway stretches empty ahead of me. Most students have already left campus for the holidays, but I still have one more meeting before break officially begins.

"Come in, Rhea." His deep voice answers my knock immediately. The familiar scent of leather and coffee wraps around me as I step inside, my spine automatically straightening under his appraising gaze.

"I brought my final paper, sir." I place it on his desk, fighting to keep a poker face despite the pride threatening to burst across my cheeks. The A- gleams up at us in red ink, proof that his strict study schedule has paid off.

"Excellent improvement." My Master’s fingers trace the margin notes as he flips through the pages. "Your analysis shows remarkable clarity. I see you've been following the reading list I gave you to assist with Professor Edmonton’s lecture series."

"Yes, sir. It helped so much. Thank you." I settle into the chair across from him, smoothing my skirt over my thighs. "Not to mention, having designated study hours these past weeks has meant I could focus completely, without worrying about...other obligations."

His lips quirk slightly at my careful phrasing. "Indeed. Speaking of obligations, what are your plans for the holiday?"

"Oh… um… I usually pick up extra shifts at the diner. Most students go home, so they need the help. It’s not like I can spend it with my family or anything, and Nat’s folks always take her skiing, so…"

Professor Shaw sets my paper aside as my garbled answer trails off. "I see… Then perhaps you'd consider spending the holidays with us this year. I know the twins would love it, and I believe the celebration wouldn’t be complete without you there."

"I'd love that," I gasp, a smile spreading across my face that I couldn't suppress if I tried. "Thank you, sir."

"Good girl." He returns my smile with a dazzling one of his own, rare and genuine. "Now, let's discuss your reading assignments for the break. Just because it's Christmas doesn't mean we'll let those grades slip again."

Dean's head pops up from beneath a tangle of Christmas lights as I burst through their apartment door less than an hour late, practically bouncing over the threshold with excitement to share the news. Bits of tinsel glitter in his dark hair, and something about seeing him tangled in decorations makes my heart almost burst.

"Babygirl! Perfect timing. Help me figure out why half these lights won't work." He gestures at the chaos spread across their living room floor, but I can barely contain myself long enough to take in the festive disaster.

“He invited me for Christmas!" The words tumble out in a rush. "He wants me to spend the whole holiday with all of you."

Dean freezes mid-untangle, his face lighting up brighter than any of the working bulbs scattered around him. In two quick strides, he crosses the room and sweeps me off my feet, spinning me in a circle that sends my stomach swooping.

"Finally!" He sets me down but keeps his arms locked around my waist. "I've been dropping hints for weeks about having you there. Wanted it to be your first real family Christmas with us."

"First real family Christmas?" Ethan's voice drifts from his doorway. "Did our girl finally get her invitation?"

"She did." Dean presses a kiss to my temple. "Now we can show her how the Cooper twins do the holidays."

"Speaking of which..." Ethan prowls closer, that familiar calculating look in his eyes. "We need to discuss tree decorating duties. I assume you'll want to help with that?"

"Obviously she's helping me," Dean cuts in before I can answer. "I already claimed her for light-stringing duty."

"Pretty sure that should be my job, considering the mess you're making of it." Ethan gestures at the tangled strands with a smirk. "Besides, I have better taste in ornament placement."

"You do not?—”

"Guys," I interrupt their bickering with a laugh. "I can help you both. Though maybe we should focus on getting these lights working first?"

"Fine, and then we can discuss spoiling you rotten with presents," Dean declares, pulling me down beside him on the floor. "No arguments."

"Dean, you don't have to?—”

"Nope." He presses a finger to my lips. "Consider it making up for lost time. You deserve to be thoroughly treated."

Ethan settles on my other side, methodically sorting through the light strands. "For once, I agree with my brother. Let us give you the Christmas you should have had all along."

Warmth spreads through my chest as I watch them work, their familiar banter washing over me while they argue about how to properly distribute the lights around the tree.

"Here." Dean dumps a particularly knotted strand in my lap. "Show us those clever fingers of yours. Bet you can untangle this faster than either of us.”

“Challenge accepted,” I giggle, planting a quick kiss on his lips before I get to work.

The fire crackles in Professor Shaw's elegant living room, casting dancing shadows across the leather armchairs where he and Ethan sit reviewing a stack of notes. I lend an ear to their discussion, barely raising my head from where I’m curled against Dean's chest on the plush sofa.

"The Christmas Eve dinner will be strictly formal," Professor Shaw announces, his pen tapping thoughtfully against the protocol list. "Full dress code in effect. I’ll have something appropriate ordered for you, Rhea."

"Yes, sir." I nestle deeper into Dean's embrace as his fingers weave lazily through my hair.

"We'll maintain regular discipline throughout the holidays," Ethan adds, his pale eyes meeting mine across the room. "Though perhaps with seasonal adjustments to reward good behavior."

Dean's chest rumbles with quiet laughter beneath my cheek. "Already planning special presents for our good girl? I was worried all your rules would take the fun out of things."

"Focus," Master chides, though his lips quirk slightly. "We need to coordinate schedules. Christmas morning will be relaxed protocol, but evening festivities require structure."

I listen intently as they outline each day's expectations—which meals require formal attire, when I'm allowed to use first names versus titles, specific positions for kneeling beside the tree during gift exchanges. The detailed planning makes me feel impossibly cherished.

"Wine?" Master rises to pour glasses as they finish reviewing the schedule. He hands me a glass, fingers brushing mine deliberately. "Here, sweet girl."

"Thank you." I take a careful sip, hyper-aware of proper etiquette under his watchful gaze. Dean's arm tightens around my waist, a silent gesture of pride.

"I think Rhea deserves a reward for such good behavior this past week," Ethan suggests. "I have a few ideas of my own."

"Patience." Master chuckles as he settles back in his chair, swirling his wine thoughtfully. "We have all of break to explore festive discipline. For now, let our girl enjoy a quiet evening. It’s Dean’s night anyway, and he seems happy with just a snuggle for now."

I smile to myself as I nuzzle into Dean’s neck, surrounded by my three protectors while they playfully bicker about who rewards me the most. This is what safety feels like, I realize. This careful balance of structure and affection, discipline and care.

Later that night, Dean's arm drapes heavy and warm across my waist as I scroll through old photos on my phone. The soft glow illuminates his peaceful sleeping face beside me, and I can't resist brushing my nose over his, resisting the urge to kick my feet with pure, overwhelming happiness.

A picture from four Christmases ago catches my eye—my last holiday in Nebraska. The forced smiles and rigid postures tell a story my family never wanted to acknowledge. I swipe quickly to close it, focusing instead on a recent snapshot of my new family at dinner last week.

My phone buzzes with a new message from my Master: " Schedule for December 22-26 attached. Review before breakfast tomorrow. Sleep well, sweet girl ."

The detailed PDF outlines every moment of the holiday celebration—color-coded blocks for formal meals, protocol sessions, gift exchanges, and play time. Just seeing the attention to detail has butterflies soaring through my stomach. It feels like the entire celebration revolves around me as the honored guest.

Another message pops up from Ethan soon after: " Sleep well, little one. Looking forward to showing you our family traditions. "

Dean stirs slightly at my quiet giggle, pulling me tighter against his chest without fully waking. His steady breathing reminds me that I'm exactly where I belong—safe, cherished, protected by all three of them in their own unique ways.

"What're you thinking about?" Dean's sleepy murmur breaks through my reflection. His lips brush my shoulder as he props himself up to peek at my phone screen.

"Just how different everything is now," I whisper back, setting the phone aside to turn in his arms. "How grateful I am to have found all of you."

"Mmm." He tucks my head under his chin. "We're the grateful ones, babygirl. Now stop overthinking and get some sleep, Dad's got a full day planned tomorrow."

I close my eyes, letting Dean's heartbeat lull me toward pleasant dreams. The old ache of lonely holidays fades with each rise and fall of his chest. This is what coming home really means. It’s not a place, but people who see you completely and love you for every part.

The last thing I register is Dean's sleepy kiss against my hair and his whispered "Love you, babygirl" before I drift off.