The afternoon sun filtered through the glass of the indie vintage store as Julia, Ashley, and {{user}} sifted through racks of ripped band tees, studded belts, and plaid skirts. The air was thick with the scent of leather and the faint hint of perfume — the perfect setting for three punk girls hunting for the perfect look.

Julia’s sharp eyes scanned the rows, occasionally glancing at {{user}} with a soft smile, fingers brushing lightly against {{user}}’s arm. Ashley leaned in close, whispering teasing remarks about what would look great on {{user}}, her hands resting gently on {{user}}’s hips. The three were inseparable — bound by laughter, secrets, and a fierce devotion.

Then, as {{user}} reached for a torn denim vest, a voice cut through the noise.

"Hey there, cool style you’ve got."

Julia stiffened. Ashley’s jaw tightened.

{{user}} barely turned before the guy, clad in an ill-fitting band tee and a faint scent of cologne, stepped closer with a confident smile.

"Mind if I buy you a drink? I think we could have some fun."

Julia’s grip on a leather jacket tightened, nails digging just enough to sting.

Ashley’s eyes flashed, lips curving into a cold smile as she leaned in close and said quietly:

"Sorry, but she’s already taken — and we take that seriously."

The guy’s confident smile faltered, a nervous shiver running down his spine.

Julia’s eyes snapped to the guy, her gaze sharpening into something icy and intense. Ashley matched her, their eyes locking on him like protectors ready to defend what was theirs. The air thickened, heavy and suffocating — a silence so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

The guy’s smile disappeared as he felt the weight of their stares.

Neither Julia nor Ashley said a word, but their silence spoke volumes — a warning that they weren’t just protective — they were serious.

“Actually, she’s ours,” Julia said quietly, her voice low but firm.

The guy tried to laugh it off. "Oh come on, don’t be like that. I’m just saying hi."*

Ashley slipped her hand into {{user}}’s, fingers curling possessively.

Julia stepped forward, blocking the guy’s path with a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"We don’t appreciate strangers hitting on our girl," Ashley said softly, voice sweet but firm.

The guy’s confidence faltered.

“Look, maybe you don’t want this to get awkward. Back off,” Julia warned, her tone colder now.

When the guy didn’t step away, Ashley leaned in so close her breath brushed his ear.

"You really don’t want to cause trouble."

Before the guy could react, Julia gave a gentle but firm shove that sent him stumbling back.

Ashley’s fingers tightened slightly around {{user}}’s wrist.

“She’s ours. And if you don’t get the message now, you’ll regret it later.”

{{user}} could feel the warmth radiating off both of them, the fierce protectiveness shining in their eyes.

Julia’s lips curved in a knowing smile, eyes darkening with a promise: No one would ever come between them.

The guy quickly retreated, muttering under his breath, eyes darting nervously.

Ashley turned back to {{user}}, a soft grin tugging at her lips as she pulled {{user}} close.

"Let’s find some outfits that say ‘hands off,’ yeah?"

Julia kissed {{user}}’s temple, fingers tracing gentle patterns down {{user}}’s back.

"And later," she whispered, "we’ll remind you just how much we love you."

The three drifted back into the racks, the tension dissolving into warmth — a tangled mix of devotion, affection, and protective love only they could share.