#easy hair care routine

[the-prophecy]

Lockdown for me was like a phase where i tried everything new and i had to snap back into it when i got the news that everything is starting

[hoshigray]

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)

“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”

“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”

You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 

Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.

With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.

That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 

Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.

In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.

Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!

How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.

Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.

And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”

“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”

Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??

But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.

The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.

However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.

“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”

Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 

Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 

This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.

So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”

His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.

However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.

“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”

You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 

“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”

You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 

But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“

“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”

With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”

He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”

And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 

“Aww, you two are so cute together~”

You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.

Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.

The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”

“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”

The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”

Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”

“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”

The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.

The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 

“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”

“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”

Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”

“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 

Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“

“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”

And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”

Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”

It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 

It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 

When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 

Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 

Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 

“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 

The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.

You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 

“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”

The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”

“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”

With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 

And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 

“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 

“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 

“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”

“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  

Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”

Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 

“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”

You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 

“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”

Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 

“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“

“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 

“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“

Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 

After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”

“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”

“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”

Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.

Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 

The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 

“Hey, Y/n.”

Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“

“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”

“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”

“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”

Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”

“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”

“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”

“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”

“Oh, eat horse shit.”

“Croak and die.”

You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.

…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?

Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[sttoru]

OKAY IK YOU JUST DID SATORU BUT BOOBOBSESSED!TOJI PLEASE !!

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. husband!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. smut, pwp. mention of bôōb job, m. māsturbation. brēast play. reader gets called ‘doll, girl’ not proofread

“tojiiii, i just came home,” you whine as the black-haired man lifts you up and brings you over to the couch the second you step into your shared apartment.

it’s become a part of your daily routine at this point. every time you come home, you’re put on the couch or bed and your clothes come off. it doesn’t necessarily have to lead to sex—sometimes your husband does it to comfort you and relieve your stress (and his).

“yeah, i know, doll,” toji responds in a gruff voice. he lifts your shirt up over your head and leaves chaste kisses on your shoulders and collarbone, “jus’ let me take care of you, ‘kay?” you can feel his stubble, making you realise that he did not shave. not that you’re complaining.

in fact, you’re the one who told him that you prefer it when he has a little stubble. it’s so sexy on toji—especially during the early mornings, when you wake up next to him, his muscular body on full display with that lazy look in his eyes. it makes you drool every time.

you hum shortly in agreement. toji licks a strip over your collarbone before swiftly undoing your bra. he watches your tits bounce free from their confines and he groans, feeling his cock swell in his boxer shorts already.

“been needing to suck on those,” he sighs. he shamelessly attaches his lips to your nipple, tongue flicking out to taste your plump flesh. it’s an addiction at this point. not a day goes by where toji doesn’t leave your breasts alone.

he either has to knead them while he watches a show or lazily suck on them while you cuddle. he can’t help it—your tits are just a delicious treat he wishes to indulge in every second of the day. even when toji is out of the house, images of your perfectly round chest keep him from focusing on the road ahead.

hell; one time toji even had to pull his car to the side so he could quickly palm himself through his boxers, simply because of your tits. he had one of his hands under his pants and the other held his phone, scrolling through pictures that captured your bust well.

“fuck,” toji curses under his breath. he groans with nearly every suckle, his eyes closed like he’s experiencing euphoria. you run your fingers through his hair, your back arching off the couch a little. your husband massages your other breast, his tongue quickly circling your swollen nipple like a touch starved man, “mh, can’t stop. fuckin’ delicious. wanna keep on suckin’ em.”

toji pinches your other nipple which causes you to moan loudly. it’s like your stress is quite literally being sucked out of your body. every suckle motion makes you relax even more in his embrace.

“babe, i need t’ make dinner,” you mutter between soft whimpers. you know it’s futile saying that—toji is not going to let you go. once he’s got you, he’s keeping you for the rest of the day.

the black-haired man rolls his eyes at your words while he’s actively sucking on your tit. he looks up at you before detaching his lips from your hardened nipple. there’s a wet spot of his saliva left over your chest.

“no need,” toji rasps, kissing the valley of your breasts. his dick twitches at the thought of being sunk between your tits, his cum shooting from the tip and coating your breasts and face white. “got my dinner right here,” he sighs and wraps his lips around your other nipple.

you moan at the stimulation. you tug at toji’s hair from the pleasure, your hips bucking up to grind against that hard bulge that’s been pressed between your thighs since the beginning. your husband hisses at the contact and bites on the sensitive nub.

“easy, girl,” toji growls, his eyes darkening with lust, “just a little more, mhm? i’ll give it to ya real good after.” he’s nearly going insane from the sensations. his hips grind back slowly against your core while his face is buried against your tits. the pair is getting equal attention, either from his lips and tongue or skilled fingers.

the pleasure is unending. you want nothing more than to return the favor to your lover, but with how things are going, that’s going to take a while. you’re going to need to pry toji away from your tits; he won’t leave them on his own free will.

if it was up to him, he’d live there forever, right between your tits.

[irlcupcake]

10 of my favorite easy glow up tips! 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

get a gua sha!! not expensive at all and made such a difference in my face shape and carving out my cheek bones and jawline. there’s lots of good tutorials on tiktok or youtube!

tea in the morning/night! there’s so many teas to help with different things but my favorite’s are spearmint tea for clearing skin and green tea for reducing bloating.

ice your face! helps SO much with de-puffing and closing up your pores! dipping your face in a bowl with ice water can reduce inflammation, help with acne and reduce oily skin!

make sure to get enough sleep! It’s so easy to stay up scrolling on tumblr until the sun comes up but getting enough sleep is so important mentally and physically!

find a skincare routine that works for you and remember too much skincare can be bad for your skin! my skin was breaking out the worst when i was using a bunch of skincare and It’s cleared so much since i simplified my routine.

use a lash/brow serum! my favorite brand is grande lash and it’s a little pricey but using castor oil works as well and it’s super affordable.

going on walks! I’ve never been a fan of intense exercises and I’m a chronic bed rotter but putting on my favorite hot girl playlist and strutting on the treadmill/sidewalk is genuinely so fun!

rosemary oil for hair growth! my holy grail of hair growth products along with a scalp massager. my whole life my hair grew so slow and since using rosemary oil i have to trim my bangs twice a month sometimes!

i cannot stress this one enough..wear what YOU want! don’t let new trends or judgment from others stop you from embracing your true style. we look our best when we feel most confident!

most importantly ~ take care of yourself! make sure you’re eating enough, drinking water, listening to your body and being gentle with yourself always. improving ourselves can be so fun but make sure it’s not at the expense of your mental health <3

[axonspro]

5 DIY Hair Masks for Healthy Hair: Easy Steps for Gorgeous Locks

5 DIY Hair Masks for Healthy Hair: Easy Steps for Gorgeous Locks Unveil the transformative effects of DIY hair masks with our collection of 5 simple recipes. Achieve stunning, healthy hair using natural ingredients found in your pantry. Say goodbye to costly salon treatments and hello to radiant locks! Longing for luscious, healthy hair? You’re not alone! However, commercial hair masks can be…

[fastandcarlos]

Night Time Routine : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you've watched him for so many nights, at last it's your turn to help lando with his nightly routine

Your smile was wide as Lando lowered his head down to rest against your shoulder, swinging his legs around so that they rested over your lap. Your arm wrapped around him to stop him from slipping as Lando let go of a dramatic, loud yawn. 

Your laughter threatened to spill as a huff came from him, letting you know just how tired he was. It had been a long week of racing, and Lando was determined to let you know just how much all of it had taken out of him. 

It didn’t take long before your hands to find their way into his hair, detangling his messy locks. It was a weakness of yours, but also a sweet spot of Lando’s, which didn’t help when he was already feeling so sleepy. 

“Can we go to bed?” Lando whispered, pressing a kiss against your cheek to try and persuade you. “If I don’t go to bed now then I might just fall asleep here for the rest of the night,” he added. 

You hummed in response, encouraging Lando to stand up before you did the same. Your hand intertwined in with his as you turned everything off before leading Lando over to the stairs, taking it nice and slow as you made your way up, taking him by surprise when you went into the bathroom rather than the bedroom. 

“You’ve still got to make sure that you clean yourself up Lan.” 

“I’m too sleepy, you do it for me instead love.” 

You placed Lando so that he was resting against the sink, opening up his side of the cupboard looking through at all the products that he owned. A murmur came from you as you noticed his moisturiser, taking it out and removing the lid. 

“Go easy on me, I’m tired,” Lando hummed, closing his eyes as he felt your hands go to his cheeks, beginning to rub the product all over his face, covering as much of his face as you could. 

“Your beard is getting so long,” you laughed as your hands came down underneath his chin, tickling against the goatee that he was growing out. “You’ve got to start tidying this up a little bit better Lan.” 

His head shook with a pout on his face, keeping his eyes closed for a few more moments when he felt your hands drop. “Do you know how long I’ve had to work to grow this thing out and stop looking like a teenage boy? It’ll take me months to grow it out as good as this again. 

Your head shook as you placed Lando’s moisturiser back into the cupboard, picking out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He remained glued to the spot as he placed his hands against your hips, a shy smile creeping onto his face at the small distance that was between the two of you. 

As he realised what you were doing, Lando slowly opened his mouth up so that you could get in and brush his teeth for him, relishing in the feeling of you doing everything for him. 

“You’re enjoying this,” you teased, squeezing some paste onto his brush. Your free hand went to Lando’s jaw, holding him tightly in position as you began to brush his teeth, covering everywhere in a circular motion. 

Lando shrugged, unable to hide the smile that was on his face, his eyes watching the concentration in your expression. “You do such a good job of taking care of me my love.” 

After a couple of minutes, you turned Lando around so that he could spit out the toothpaste, rinsing his brush underneath the tap. You tidied everything up before nudging Lando’s waist, encouraging him to move. He stayed where he was though, holding out his hand as if to tell you that you had to take him there. 

“Seriously?” You chuckled, lacing your hand in with his, turning the bathroom light off before guiding Lando into the bedroom, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. 

He was a proud figure as you went over to his wardrobe, digging through and finding a fresh shirt for Lando to change into. You threw it over to him, watching it land on top of his head, but Lando didn’t move to take it away. 

“Don’t tell me I have to change your shirt too?” You questioned, but you already knew the answer as he remained perfectly still. “No way are you this tired Lando Norris.” 

You took the shirt off of his head before he stretched his arms up, allowing you to take his old shirt off. You discarded it onto the bedroom floor before taking the new one, placing his arms through first, then his head, before pulling it down so that it covered his toned body. 

“Anything else I can do?” You asked, smiling wide when Lando’s head shook in reply to you, throwing himself down so that he was laid out in the middle of your bed. 

As another yawn came from him, you used the time to sort yourself out for bed too. A groan came from Lando as you disappeared, impatiently waiting for you to return. When you did so, only a couple of minutes later, Lando was in the exact same position, with his eyes tight shut. 

“I guess if you’re asleep I’ll go and sleep in the spare room then,” you joked, knowing exactly what would happen. In the blink of an eye, Lando scrambled awake, rolling over to his side of the bed so that there was plenty of room for you too. 

“There's room...look,” Lando assured you, tapping the space beside him on the bed. Lando pulled the duvet back as you slid in, latching onto you as soon as you were laid down, with his arm around your frame. 

Your smile was wide as Lando’s head rested against your shoulder. “Can I go to sleep now? Or is there anything else I have to do for the tired man?” 

“All you need to do is lay here and cuddle me,” he whispered into your ear. 

Your head nodded at his request, “you know, I think I might just be able to help you out with that one.” 

“Thank you for taking care of me tonight,” Lando hummed in reply, “I do appreciate it even though I can be a giant pain in the ass.” 

Your hand reached back and brushed through Lando’s hair, feeling his lips press a kiss to your cheek. As he began to settle, his eyes slowly closed, basking in the feeling of your fingertips curling through his messy locks. 

As tired as he was, Lando kept a close eye on you, noticing that you were still awake. Every so often he checked again, worried when he saw that you were still staring ahead of you, unable to settle quite as well as Lando was. 

“Are you alright?” He whispered, his voice taking you by surprise.  

You hummed back across to Lando, “I’m just enjoying the cuddle for a little while, I’m not quite sleepy enough just yet.” 

“As long as you’re alright,” Lando smiled, “is there anything that I can do for you?” 

Your head shook in reply, “don’t worry about me, you just get some rest. Goodnight Lan.” 

“Goodnight love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[godsfavdarling]

watching him

part of him (one-shot series), my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader summary: You help Spencer wash his curls properly. words: 1,2k warnings: most self indulgent fluff you have ever read, nudity/bathing together, maybe a bit suggestive but still sfw, no y/n a/n: I was in the shower and famously I have the same hair type and color as mgg and we would absolutely share our routine.

Spencer's head tilted toward you, giving you better access to his tangled brown strands. 

Your fingers, maybe a bit too roughly, moved through his scalp, detangling with a kind of focused care you hadn’t realized you were capable of.

You sat facing each other in the cramped bathroom, your legs tucked on either side of his while his stretched out around you, creating a tight but strangely comfortable space between you.

You couldn't help but watch him intently. 

With his eyes closed, unaware of your gaze, he looked almost ethereal—peaceful in a way you rarely got to see. 

His wet curls framed his face, softening his features, and the dim light of the bathroom made him look even more serene. 

There was something mesmerizing about watching him like this, when he couldn't catch you staring, when he couldn't see the way you studied every detail.

He looked so pretty, so effortlessly beautiful, that you let yourself indulge, longer than you should, in the quiet act of watching him.

“This smells nice,” he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut to shield them from your movements and the severe foam you created. His voice was soft, almost drowsy. 

He didn’t say anything more, but you caught the faintest hint of pleasure in his tone. 

Maybe he enjoyed this. Maybe he liked having his hair tugged. You made a mental note of that.

“I don’t really like this one much,” you admitted, scrunching your nose at the scent as you continued working the product through his hair.

“Really?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. His eyes remained closed, but the slight upward tilt of his head suggested curiosity.

“Yeah. It’s too intense. I liked it at first, but now it’s overwhelming.”

“I still like it. It smells like you,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

Not water related heat rushed through your body. 

You suddenly became hyper-aware of how close you were. 

You resumed your careful work on his curls, trying to focus, but it wasn’t easy.

You never thought you’d enjoy this so much. You hated washing your own hair, but washing his? It felt like a sweet dessert, a perfect indulgence after the cozy dinner you’d shared on the couch.

Your thighs kept brushing against his in the tight confines of the tub, sending a slow, torturous fever through your veins.

As if that weren’t enough, his hands found your knees at some point, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. 

He wasn’t making your task any easier.

You fought to keep your breath steady, your heart from racing out of control. You tried to play it cool, as if having him this close, this intimate, wasn’t driving you to the edge.

Is this what it felt like? 

Is this how you know the bond with him is real? Maybe it wasn't an accident after all. 

You've felt like you dreamed Spencer into existence, like he stepped out of the picture you'd been painting in your mind since childhood. 

You felt like you dreamed him up .

And one day, there he was—alive, right in front of you, as if he'd always been meant to be.

And now you were squeezed together in your tiny bathtub on a Friday night, showing him how to take care of his curls. 

“Okay, I’m going to rinse out the shampoo now. Don’t open your eyes,” you warned.

“They’re still closed,” he assured, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

You carefully worked the water through his hair, rinsing away the foam while your fingers combed through his curls. You realized you might’ve been a little rougher than necessary. You gently squeezed the excess water from his hair.

“You have to get rid of the water like this,” you explained, gathering his hair and squeezing it upward in small sections. “Don’t straighten it out, just squeeze it up. Does that make sense?”

“I get it,” he said, his voice laced with quiet trust.

“You could do more complicated stuff, but your hair’s pretty gentle, so I think just shampoo and conditioner for curly hair will do the trick. Just... don’t brush it when it’s dry, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated, nodding slightly.

“You only brush it when it’s really, really wet. Now for the conditioner.” You took the bottle and squeezed out what you deemed the right amount, showing it to him. “This should be enough.”

He nodded again, his head still hanging, eyes shut as the water ran over him. You carefully worked the conditioner into his hair. 

“You can brush through it if you need to, but don’t put any on your scalp. This one doesn’t need time to soak in, so we can rinse it right away.”

You gently massaged the conditioner through his curls before turning on the water again, running your fingers through his hair to ensure all the product was rinsed out.

You turned the water off and squeezed the excess water from his hair one last time.

Gently, you lifted his head, tugging it upward, and carefully pushed his damp curls away from his pretty face. 

As you brushed the hair from his forehead, his eyes blinked open, still sensitive to the bright bathroom light. 

His lashes were damp, and he rubbed at his eyes, finally releasing his hold on your knees. 

For a moment, you both just looked at each other.

There you were.

Both naked.

Taking care of each other.

What kind of dream was this?

Before you got to dwell on your life more Spencer broke the silence. 

“Now, my turn,” he said, his voice still soft but now filled with a teasing certainty.

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I’m going to wash your hair,” he clarified, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

There was even more warmth in his eyes than usual and a quiet determination you weren’t sure you could say no to.

“Spence, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” he said, already shifting in the tub to give himself a bit more space, motioning for you to turn around. “But I want to.”

You hesitated for a moment, the idea of letting him touch you in such a way—this close, this tender—sending a flutter of nervous excitement through your chest. 

“Okay,” you murmured as you turned around. 

You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle facing him now that his eyes were open.

You couldn’t take the way he looked at you. It felt too soft and too loving sometimes.

What did you do to deserve this? To deserve him?

For the sake of your own sanity, you shifted your focus to counting the tiles, letting the numbers steady your racing thoughts of him.

So close. So visible in the bathroom lighting.

His hands found their way to your shoulders first, steady and reassuring, before sliding up to your head. 

His fingers, surprisingly deft, massaged your scalp with slow, deliberate movements, while his other hand held the showerhead, gently wetting your hair. 

You hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel, how effortlessly the tension in your body would melt away under his careful touch.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured, his voice close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to him. Letting him watch you.

[agirlnamedelia]

A future with you || Dad!Bakugou x Reader

synopsis: just dad bakugou soft as ever.

The smell of freshly baked cookies fills the kitchen as you pull the tray from the oven, setting it on the counter to cool. You hear the front door open and a familiar voice call out, gruff but warm.

“Oi, I’m home!” Bakugou’s voice echoes through the house, his tone softened slightly by the familiarity of routine.

“In the kitchen!” you shout back, smiling as you hear the sound of tiny footsteps racing through the hall. Bakugou’s son, a bundle of energy just like his dad, comes barreling in, a wide grin on his face.

“Cookies!” he exclaims, reaching for the cooling tray with eager hands.

You laugh, gently guiding him away. “Careful, they’re still hot, sweetie. Let them cool down first.”

Bakugou appears in the doorway, his presence instantly commanding attention. He’s still in his hero gear, though he’s already shed the gauntlets and boots. His blond hair is tousled from the wind, and there’s a tired but satisfied look on his face.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice softer now, his eyes warming as he takes in the sight of you and his son.

“Hey, yourself,” you reply, leaning against the counter. “Long day?”

He nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before shifting to his son, who’s still eyeing the cookies with a determined focus. “Yeah, but it’s better now.”

You smile at his words, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. Despite his rough exterior and blunt demeanor, Bakugou has a way of making you feel special with just a few words. It’s in the little things, like the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, or the way he always makes sure to come home as soon as he can.

“Did you save any villains for the rest of us, Dad?” his son asks, his voice full of admiration.

Bakugou chuckles, ruffling his son’s hair affectionately. “Nah, wiped the floor with ‘em all. You know how it is.”

His son beams up at him, clearly proud. “You’re the best, Dad!”

Bakugou’s eyes soften as he looks down at his son, and he crouches to his level, a rare, gentle smile gracing his features. “Thanks, kid. But I’m not the best at everything. You and your mom are the real heroes around here.”

You feel your cheeks warm at his words, and Bakugou catches your eye, his expression turning more serious. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent communication that only you understand. It’s his way of saying he appreciates you, even if he doesn’t always know how to say it out loud.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up before dinner,” Bakugou says, straightening up and scooping his son into his arms with ease.

As he passes by, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for just a second longer than usual. “And maybe after, you and I can have a little time to ourselves, yeah?”

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “I’d like that.”

He gives you a small, knowing smirk before heading down the hall, his son giggling in his arms. You watch them go, your heart swelling with love and contentment. Being with Bakugou isn’t always easy, but moments like this remind you of why you fell in love with him in the first place.

As you turn back to the cookies, you hear Bakugou’s voice drifting down the hall, playful and teasing. “Better save me some of those cookies, or you’re gonna regret it!”

You laugh, calling back, “No promises, Katsuki!”

And as you start plating the cookies, you can’t help but think about how much you’ve come to love this life—this family. It’s not always perfect, but it’s yours, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

-`♡´- Tip Jar || Youtube ||  M.List -`♡´-

[lalunanymph]

୨୧ zayne decides to take matters into his own hands when he notices you've been neglecting your health lately

✧･ﾟboyfriend!zayne, fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, reader neglects her health, reader calls zayne 'sir' once, spanking, soft dom!zayne -> lifestyle dom!zayne, light Dom/sub elements, swearing, unprotected s[e]x, petnames (my aurora, my darling), thigh humping, size kink

✧･ﾟthought about lifestyle doms from an anon's ask and suddenly this idea came to me about zayne doubling down on making sure you're taking care of your health ugh i need this man biblically

The life of a Hunter is anything but easy, and Zayne knows that well.

However, he can't help the feelings that surface every time he sees you coming back home, tired and even more worn down than when you had given him a goodbye kiss this morning.

And this isn't the first time, either.

He notices—he always does. It's in his very nature to be trained to catch even the slightest deviation of the norm; a blip in your composure, your routine.

Nowadays, you were sleeping for 4 hours max, pushing your body everyday at work until bruises litter your limbs; skipping meals to hand in Jenna's reports before the stipulated deadline, barely finishing up your 500ml water bottle he so diligently helps to fill up every morning...

... and all of it piles onto the guilt he feels when he realizes how little he can do to take care of you.

It festers and festers and festers till he snaps the very second you come back home, exhausted and puckering your lips for his usual welcome back kiss.

"No."

It breaks his heart—truly, it does—to see the hurt shining in your eyes.

Why? You struggle to understand why he's being so cold all of a sudden. From warm snuggles to an icy cold glare—Zayne's mood shift was scaring you. 

Instead of answering, he goes into the kitchen and reappears a second later, holding a cup of water.

"Drink this all up and then I'll kiss you." 

His tone is deadpan, sharp green eyes never losing their sternness. 

To add insult to the injury, he scoffs, "Your breath probably smells after a whole day of not drinking water. The bacteria on your tongue alone could kill off a mouse." 

You gape, affronted. "Hey! Don’t be mean—" 

"Drink. Up." He leaves no room for you to argue; to huff your disbelief. Deciding to not be too difficult, especially when you've already had a hard day at work, you gulp down the water dutifully; a little too quickly until you choke and he pats your back. 

Once your coughing fit subsides, he tilts your head up, and like the first touch of cool morning dew on skin, his lips meet yours.

"More," you mumble, nails sinking into his soft dark hair, tugging slightly on his roots to voice your need.

Something about your sweet primary care physician boyfriend who's always yielding and gentle—restraining you from indulging in him until you did, as he said—made you throb all over. 

Zayne's minty cool breath fans across your face, his voice smooth as dark chocolate when he whispers, "You need to eat first. I know you haven't had a full meal today." 

Rubbing your nose against his, you whine. "If I do eat, can you kiss me more?" 

In answer, Zayne wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Of course," he mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you so many kisses till you're sick of them."

Never, you thought. You would never get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Or the rough rasp of his palm on your thigh, gently kneading the flesh as you quickly ate the meal he cooked. 

If you thought his spur of tough love would end after tonight, you were sorely mistaken.

Kisses held hostage turn into refusals of even hugging you until you promise to finish your lunch at work. 

You feel Tara's stare burning holes into your side profile, brows crinkled as she looks past her desktop at your antics. 

Today, your phone leans against your monitor, and you were taking huge bites of the noodle dish Zayne prepared the night before.

"Filming a mukbang?" Tara inquires innocently. 

You shake your head, expression sour. "No," you quickly swallow your bite of food, and fix her with a look that speaks volumes. "Zayne." 

"Ah." 

Tara nods. "Dating a doctor isn't easy. I bet he tells you to pay attention to your health all the time, huh? But, you know what they say—an apple a day keeps the doctor away. At least, he'll stay off your case if you take care of yourself." 

Only she could make it sound so easy.

When you were called into the city to investigate a strange flux pattern, you had forgotten to let Zayne know you weren't coming home in time for dinner. 

How were you to know that the very second you stepped foot at home, he was already waiting with a scowl in place? 

"Zayne—" you start when you see him leaning against the kitchen doorframe, expression impassive.

He shushes you, tall and imposing; still in his pristine work suit from today.

"Have you at least had something to eat in the last 6 hours?" 

Remembering the little pact you both made, you nod quickly. "Mhm hmm! All my food is finished—cross my heart." You even remove your container from its insulated bag, shaking it lightly. "See? All empty." 

A shadow of a smile graces his lips. "Good. And how many cups of water did you drink?" 

Immediately, the smile drops from your face. "Uh... one? maybe two. I can't remember..."

The look in his eyes would've made you shrink away, if you couldn't already predict your boyfriend's next words.

"You are highly irresponsible with your own health, my darling." 

You wait for him to nag, but back up when he starts to approach you; the look on his face is unreadable. 

"What do I do with you, Y/N?" he sighs, and before you can react, cages you against the wall. The smell of his cologne—fresh and expensive—invades your nostrils.

Your head spins, all the blood going straight to your toes; your stomach falling when he leans forward, lips right at your ear.

"I guess I have to force you to take your health seriously. How do you think I will do that?" 

Zayne doesn't wait for you to answer. In one swift move, he has you in his arms, using his strength to carry you into the bedroom.

"Zayne," you squeak and gasp when he tosses you onto the bed. 

The mattress dips under his weight, his face inches from yours. Despite the change in his behavior, you tilt your lips up, needy and ready to feel his kisses. 

But, he never gives it to you. 

Instead, his large hands pin your wrists to the headboard, those sharp green eyes peering at you through half-mast lids. 

Zayne licks his lips, and subconsciously, you track the minute movement, biting on your own lower lip. 

The air turns heavier; sweetened with the promise of an unforgettable night. 

You accidentally tick your hips up, catching the front of his slacks. Your eyes widen when you feel an unmistakable bulge digging right into your crotch; Zayne's loss of composure pushing right into the heat of your thighs, demanding for your attention. 

In contrast, his expression doesn't change; an almost bored emerald gaze fixed on your every reaction. 

"You do know what will happen tonight, right?" 

Trying hard not to shiver, you nod. 

"Yes," you mumble, suddenly meek. 

"Yes, what?" 

You swallow, darting your gaze over his shoulder. He grunts, squeezing down on your wrists with enough pressure to make it throb, but not enough to leave a bruise.

"Sir!" You yelp. "Y-yes, Sir." 

One corner of his mouth ticks, and exhales a short huff. "Good. You still have your manners intact, I see."

Leaning up, he unbuttoned his vest. Using one hand to gather your wrists together, the free one was left to tug on his tie; Windsor knot giving way to a strip of his pale skin. 

You eyed the expanse of his neck hungrily; unabashed, even when his lips curl into a sinful smile.

“It seems like someone here has missed me,” Zayne whispers, and you fight back a shiver when he leans in, close enough for his breath to stir the loose locks on your cheeks. 

“I’m… sorry,” was all you could offer him weakly. Zayne’s thin lips curl into a smirk. At this point, you weren’t even sure why he wasn’t fucking you yet—what he was waiting for. “Please…” without a second thought, you clip your hips against his, trying to ease the tension between your thighs. “I need you, Zayne.”

His grunt was low—a warning. “Do you think you deserve it? I can’t keep reminding you to put yourself first, my darling. What if I’m gone? What would you do?” 

Even though it was a hypothetical question, your chest couldn’t help but squeeze at the thought of a Zayne-less life. You would rather feed yourself to a Wanderer than go a day without him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, earnest this time. “I was careless. I should’ve listened to you. I… I’ll try my best to take care of myself.” 

Zayne gives you a look, like he doesn’t believe you for a single second. It has you scrambling your ringing mind to say something else. 

But, before you do, the world tilts, and you’re in his lap. Zayne’s lips were an inch away from yours. You zero in on them. Missing how they would feel gently slotted against your own—when you disregard the hesitation to plant your mouth on his. 

Patiently, like a martyr or a long suffering saint, Zayne lets you kiss him. He doesn’t respond back, at least not like what you expect.

No flames, no passion. It was as good as kissing a stone statue.

There was no yield in his gaze; those flinty green eyes refusing to thaw.

You repress a full body shiver. 

Suddenly, the coolness of the room becomes more pronounced. You feel the chill on your skin, where his long fingers wrap around your fleshy hips spilling past the Hunter-standard pants.

“I should punish you for that.” 

A flurry of movement. Your face meets the downy mattress, mouthful of cotton stoppering your protests. 

Sharp, stinging pain explodes across your ass. The sound of a large palm meeting skin echoes around the room again; your surprised yelp bouncing from wall to wall.

Soothingly, he rubs the ache from your tender globes, and in a voice dripping with sympathy, whispers, “I apologize for having to do this, my Aurora.”

Your back arches, the sudden awareness of your vulnerability penetrating your fuzzy mind. Pinned to the bed, his bigger frame pressing down on yours—you were trapped in the eye of a frigid storm.

“Zayne,” you whine, too aware of how warm his body felt on yours. 

I promise to take care of you, his voice rings in your head. Of memories during summer nights, skin stuck to skin, your head on his chest. I can’t lose you—not to the Wanderers or your own carelessness.

Zayne ceaselessly kept that promise—his devotion unmatched. And you were carelessly throwing it away every single day, right in his face. Denying his care, his treatment.

It all became clear to you in that split second.

He was past waiting for your excuses and apologies; all he wants is to make sure you never forget yourself ever again. 

Zayne props you on his lap once more, leaning back against the headboard.

“I want you to cum—”

It’s embarrassing how quickly you perk up only to be let down when he disclaims his generosity with a contradictory footnote.

“—without my help.”

He rests his head back, the arch of his neck tempting you to plant kisses down the pale stretch of skin; his Adam’s apple bobbing. The silence grows; you feel like you could suffocate from the chill spreading between your two tense bodies.

You shift forward, incredulous. “What the heck do you mean by that?” 

Zayne flickers his gaze to where your crotch snugly fits on top of his thigh. “You’re a smart girl… I’m sure you will figure it out soon.”

You huff, a pout pushing your displeasure right into his face. 

“You’re mean. I already said I was sorry.” 

But, he wasn’t going to budge. If there was one thing Zayne would never compromise on, it was caring for you. Sometimes, it scared you—how utterly serious he took his job as your caretaker in and out of the hospital walls. 

No amount of reasoning could change his mind. It was either you play his game, or walk away with that pit gnawing right at the bottom of your stomach—unfulfilled and gaping.

You lean back. Friction, burning hot, zings up your spine, and suddenly, what he wants you to do clicks in. 

“Oh.” 

You swallow. Outside, rain begins to splatter on the windowpane. The world goes blue and dark, holding its breath in tandem with yours.

Locking your hands on his shoulders, you lean forward. Then, shift back. And do it again and again until you feel the heat burning you up; razing your self control down to ashes as you let out a small, shaky moan. 

“Good girl,” Zayne whispers into the dark of your room. “You’re so pretty like this—getting off on my thigh.” 

You peel your teary eyes onto his softening ones. His jaw clenches, and a vein throbs in his temple. He fights back the urge to thrust up—to meet your sensual grinding. It was a losing battle. Every needy whimper slipping past your wet lips sends a pleasurable jolt to his cock. But, he can’t give in just yet. You had to learn your lesson the hard way. 

There’s an indecent spot of wetness staining his slacks. The dark material of your pants hides your arousal well, but Zayne can practically smell you. 

Sweet musk and a fragrant vanilla. 

His heart thrums wildly, staccato beats that match the constant pulsing of his aching cock. 

I need her so badly. He wants nothing more than to be buried in you; to watch you fall apart under his tender care. 

Every mellifluous whimper dripping from your lax mouth makes him see stars; coated with ecstasy, your eagerness continues to seep into the expensive fabric of his slacks. 

Zayne makes a mental note to get it dry cleaned at his earliest convenience. 

It should’ve annoyed him—this extra chore on his already burdened shoulders. But, he doesn’t care much for the cost of sending his expensive, tailored suits to the best dry cleaners in Linkon City. 

He would let you squirt all over them ten times over if it meant he could bring you to your zenith of pleasure and back. 

Those beautiful emerald eyes never leave yours; devouring every reaction. Studying your shifts and dips. Calculating his next move in his head.

You might’ve thought Zayne was hewn from rock with how quiet he was. 

But, if you would look closer, you would’ve seen how his hands were stuffed into fists right by his side. The shake in his breath when you toss your head back. How he could barely keep his jaw from tightening when you mewl out his name.

I promise to take care of her—no matter what. Caleb and your grandmother were witnesses to his solemn vow. 

He would keep his word. Do everything in his power to keep their precious girl in line—even if she thought it was unfair.

“Zayne, please,” you try to beg again. He only scoffs. 

Mean. He was so, so mean. 

You were aching all over, yearning for it. Needing his touch and attention on your body to drive yourself over the edge. 

Unfortunately for you, his self-control is immaculate. It doesn’t fold nor break. In the operation room, and outside of it, his priority was to maintain a level-headed calm wherever he went. 

But, inwardly, with you on his lap; all pouty, kissable lips and pussy dripping her excitement on his thigh, Zayne finds his famed composure cracking under the weight of your desire.

“Zayne,” you hiccup. “Please. Please. Touch me.”

Large, veiny hands grip your thighs, dragging you close. 

His mouth finally presses on yours, and it feels like a sparked flame striking near a mountain of straw.

He tries to keep his wits—he really does. Reminds himself not to indulge you again; to finally make you see how much he cares for you through this cruel game.

Like a fluctuation cutting through permanent winds that flow steadfastly North, only you had the power to sway his decisions. 

"Zayne," you moan into his mouth.

Then, in an instant, the flame sparks. The mountain of dry yearning goes up.

Every carefully constructed ploy is destroyed. 

Zayne kisses you like his life depended on it. Messy, clacking teeth, spit mixing and running down chins; hot hands grappling any inch of skin available. 

Your clothes were pushed off your body and onto the floor. Zayne’s luxurious vest and button down shirt was almost torn from his body by your eager hands. 

The bare lines of his torso and muscular thighs fit perfectly with yours, his body slotting in between your spread legs. 

Sharp lines bloom down his back, your nails dragging down his skin; his eyes almost rolling back into his head when he sinks into your heat.

“Shit,” he cusses, almost inaudible. The sound of wetness meeting in the darkening room, your moans and his heavy pants fill the air. 

Good girl. Move your hips like that. You’re doing so well for me. I love you. I love you. If you disobey me again, your punishment will be more severe. You’re everything to me, my Aurora. 

“Zayne!” your cry shatters like a bullet unloading from a smoking gun. He almost flinches back when you squeal right in his ear, back tensing and arching like a taut string.

Slipping a hand in between your bodies, he nudges and plays with your clit, drawing your high to an unbearable tension.

He feels your heels digging into his hips, your sweet pussy squeezing down on his length like the world’s most precious love declaration. You bury your face into his neck; feel his pulse fluttering against your lips.

“Inside,” you whimper, as if you could read his mind. “I want you inside, Zayne.”

He grunts, his entire body trembling from the force of the tight band around his lower body. 

Zayne ruts up into you, little more than an animal in heat—the ridges and bumps of your pussy gets him in a higher state of mind, delirious enough to start moaning shamelessly. 

You grip his face, touching your foreheads together. Zayne’s lips find yours, and within that split second you believe something fundamentally true. 

That in every life, every form, every stretch between space and time—you would never forget how his lips feel like on yours. 

A shuddering breath right on your neck. The twitch of his cock nudging right on your sweet, golden spot. 

You tense, toes curling—

—and shatter around his cock gloriously. 

Warmth spreads deep in your body, taking over your toes and fingers. Driving you heady with the taste of him on your tongue. 

Zayne finishes inside you, breathing hard against the shell of your ear. 

The silence is broken by his soft gasp, and you feel the wet pull of his cock out of your puffy pussy. Immediately, he replaces the emptiness with the full circle of his arms around your tired body.

You sigh, sticky and filled with longing, face protected right in the crook of his neck.

“Zayne?” 

“Hmm?” 

He plays with a loose lock of your hair. Not one for many words, Zayne’s actions speak louder and sweeter than any poetry you had ever read.

Rolling you over, he hovers close, lips gently brushing your cheeks, temple and finally, your lips.

“I love you,” your confession spurs something primal and tender in his soul. He kisses you once, twice, to wipe out the dark need to claim you again and again until every fiber of your skin is written with his name.

“I love you, too.” 

He presses one long kiss onto your forehead and chuckles to himself.

"Come on. Follow me to the kitchen. Don't think I forgot about those 8 glasses of water you didn't drink today..."

a/n: if this man wants me to watch for my health, i'll make sure my medical report comes back with an A+

— feedback and reblogs are loved in this house iykyk

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[soobnny]

dating him | bang chan

❝ have i told you how beautiful you look this morning? ❞

CHAN | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

chan as ur bf wow congratulations

it’s giving strangers to lovers if i’m being fr

u just meet on a random tuesday like nothing out of the ordinary

conversation is made and for SOME reason, chan always feels the cogs in his head stop turning when he’s talking to u

like it feels like he’s constantly on the run all the time so how come with u it’s so different

what did u do to him

well wtvr long story short, he FELL

fell hard

now he’s ur bf

ok hear me out

perk #1: unlimited supply of his hoodies

he’d love it too .. when u wear his hoodie

doesn’t even try to act upset or bothered that u’re stealing his clothes

sometimes he’s the one to even put it on ur bed so u can wear it after u shower

or when u’re coming home from the dorm and when u open ur bag .. oh! his hoodie!

“ah, i must’ve misplaced it 😅😅😅”

yeaaaaaaaaah sure

sure u misplace the hoodie in ur very pink bag instead of his black bag

u’re not very slick christopher bang

u don’t mind tho

his hoodies are always xxxxl in size and it smells like him

perk #2: u have ur own man wife

that man knows how to do everything

he can fix ur sink, build u a table, put oil on ur doorknobs so they don’t harden, can clean, like what can’t he do

have u seen hometown cha cha cha? he’s giving very Chief Hong in his skills

(minho does too but we’ll talk about him in his post)

oh, did i mention he can cook too

one of his favorite little mini dates is when u just go thru cookbooks together

and then … cook

i’m sorry this man is a sucker for domestic things like this

and cooking together means u also grocery shop together

a fun challenge he made up is where u pick up random ingredients and try to make something decent out of it

maaaaaan he’s just giving husband

anyways back to cooking

imagine him in the kitchen right

and he’s tasting something new he made

ofc u’re curious too cos wow whatever the hell he’s making smells and looks good

when you try to ask him if you can taste it, he’d KISS you

“how do you like it? 😏😏😏”

😳😳😳😳

he’s getting bold

he does strike me as shy at first in relationships

and then when u’re together for long, u’re like damn this man kinda freaky

perk #3: his dog

berry loves u

like sometimes even more than chan

(it’s bc u give her extra treats when u can)

u walk his dog together early in the morning

it’s kind of become routine

u’d just get out of bed with messy hair and still in ur pajamas while chan is perfectly ready bc he loves waking up early when he can

u don’t even care that u look like a mess

bc chan always reminds u how beautiful u are every morning

so … messy hair and pajamas … putting the leash on berry and walking outside

it’d just be quiet mostly on the walk

there’s no need for conversation with chan sometimes

chan would say he finally knows what peace means after meeting u

his favorite scene ever is coming home and finding u asleep on the couch with berry

he has a million pictures of that on ur phone

like different days, same scene

sets it as his lockscreen even

on nights u can spend together, u enjoy watching cringy christmas movies w him

cue recreating the scenes

except it’s a massive failure bc both of u just can’t stop laughing

u especially love those christmas movies one

“I DONT HAVE A TWIN WE CANT RECREATE THE PRINCESS SWITCH”

u end up just falling asleep together

ofc not without cuddling and intimate kisses

chan finds he sleeps easier bc of u

he used to always find it so difficult to fall asleep before

so how come it’s as easy as closing his eyes now

btw u two most probably have promise rings

and he most probably wears it as a necklace

and he loves hugging u from behind

chan loves being able to nuzzle his cheek on ur back and hold u

he’d probably do that thing where u’re unaware and then BAM a pair of arms around ur waist

his chin on ur shoulder

oh Wow….. wow i just made myself crazy thinking about that

he’d lean in to kiss ur neck or ur chin bc it’s closest access

and he’d just look at whatever the hell u’re doing

chan loves looking at u

does that sound creepy

he just loves observing u ok !!!!!!

esp when u’re doing something u love

his heart goes 💗💞💕💕💝💘💖💞💓💓

bc that’s his baby

he just adores u tbh

u could just be standing there and chan’s looking at u with heart eyes

anyways whatever CONGRATULATIONS

u guys will probably last forever bc he’s whipped and so in love

he’s giving me the More In Love vibe

like when he falls, he FALLS

happy 4 u

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[cupidlovesastro]

𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓳𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾

venus in 1st- the way you look , your aura, your energy, your presence, the impressions you give on others, the attitude you have about things, how put together you come off, your beauty, your charismatic spirit, your aesthetic, your clothes, your make up, your forehead, your hair or hairstyles, your masculine features/energy

venus in 2nd- your financial situation, your ranking in your work place, if you come off/dress rich, the things you own, house decorations, your room’s aesthetic, your work ethic, your career, if you own expensive things, your neck area, collar bone, your voice, your lips, jaw, your beauty

venus in 3rd- your way with words, how flirting/ talking is easy for you, the way you speak, the way your brain works, your social group, your siblings, your creative writing, your journal/ notes, the elementary school you went to, your neighborhood, your thought process, your shoulders, collarbone, hands, how youthful you look/act

venus in 4th- how you regulate or cope with your emotions, your family or the family you’ve created, your household, your furniture, your decorations, your family roots, your background, the way you mother people or your children, your motherly energy, your femininity, the way you express your femininity, your self care routine, your self care products, how you grew up, how your family treats you, your chest, your boobs, your rib cage, your round face shape, the softness in your features

venus in 5th- your relationship, your lover, your youth, your inner child or the fact you can express it, your children, your features that your children have/will inherit, your aesthetic, the way you express yourself, your art style, the art you make, your spirit, how easy it is for you to get along with people,how easy it is for you to attract people, how many kids you have, the people you’ve hooked up with, the way you express your happiness, your stomach, bellybutton, your confidence, thick hair

venus in 6th- your work out routine, your work out equipment, work out clothes, your health, your pets, work ethic, your organization or organized nature, your resourcefulness, the way that people need you, the service(s) you offer, the way you analyze things, your waist, hips, your youthful appearance,

venus in 7th- your relationship(s), your marriage, how fair you are or act, the way you go about justice, how giving you are, the contracts you have with businesses, your skin, your lower back, your symmetrical features, hair, your feminine features/ energy, your beauty, your aesthetic, the effort you put into your look, your music taste

venus in 8th- your sensual side, your sex appeal, your financial situation, the money or things you’ve inherited from your family, things that you own, your properties/house(s), your mysterious energy or aesthetic, the way your partner spoils you or the way you spoil your partner, sexual organs, your groin, the way people seem to lust over you

venus in 9th - your community, your religion, your culture, your traditions, the places you’ve traveled to, how often you traveled, your intelligence, the degrees you’ve earned, the college you attend to or used to attend, the philosophies you have, the beliefs you share or follow, the way you learn, how learning is fast or easy, your thighs, your waist, your height

venus in 10th- your career, the goals you’ve achieved, your popularity, your influence, your fame, your reputation, your status, your father or father figures in your life, the way you father your children, your masculinity, your masculine features/vibes, your bone structure, teeth

venus in 11th- your social group/ friends, the way you care about the world or a certain community, the amount of social awareness you have, the technology you own like iphone/ ipad/ laptops, etc, the way you dream big, your individuality, your uniqueness the people you surround yourself with, your calves, your ankles, your unique features

venus in 12th- your healing journey, the way you heal from things, your spiritual journey, your spiritual knowledge, spiritual experiences, you connection with spirituality, your connection with your after life, your connection with your subconscious mind, your manifestations, your feet, toes, feminine features, your empathy, your compassion, your emotional intelligence, your intuition

[harryspet]

lonely little lamb | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!stepbrother!rafe x stepsister!reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader, dd/lg dynamic, mentions of violence/blood, somnophilia, stalker!rafe, DUBCON, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: happy OBX4! This was written before the new season :) Dividers by @/ghoulbloggerrr

In which Rafe knows your secret and just how perfect you'd be together.

word count: 7.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe didn’t catch on immediately.  At first, he just thought you were strange, his expectations already tainted by what he'd assumed about you. He’d been prepared for his stepmother’s daughter to be a brat, and on the surface, you fit that mold perfectly. But there was something off about the way you acted around him. You never played innocent, never tried to charm him or win him over like you did with everyone else. You gave him sharp glances at the dinner table when he talked back to Ward and even angrier stares when he disrespected your mother. You never hung around after dinner, always rushing to go back to your room, and “call your friends from back home”. Of course, Rafe listened at your door often and he never heard you making any calls. Having grown up in the house, he felt entitled to know what was happening within its walls.

Your behavior puzzled Rafe to the point of obsession. He woke up every morning to check if your car was still in the driveway and easily memorized your schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you attended classes in the morning at the local community college. On the other days of the week you sat through your online classes. You never ate too early, always going for a late breakfast that usually consisted of avocado toast, a bowl of fruit, and you always came down to refill your “sippy cup”. That’s what Rafe had dubbed it. It was clear, decorated with a stencil design of a baby lamb and had a flip-up spout for easy drinking. You didn’t go many places without it. 

It was the small things that fascinated him. The comfort items you clung to, the simple routines that made your life feel organized and secure. You usually took a bubble bath about thirty minutes after dinner, and when you forgot to lock your door, Rafe would slip into your room, drawn by the intimacy of your private world.

He picked up items around your room, like the frame you kept beside your bed. It held a photo of you and your mom: you in your old high school cheerleading uniform, hair pinned back in pigtails, while your mom smiled widely beside you. Despite her cheerful expression, your eyes in the picture looked wistful and lonely. Rafe couldn’t help but imagine you now, with adult curves and eager eyes, wearing that outfit. The thought stirred something in him, making him hard, and he had to tuck himself away, cursing under his breath. At least if you walked in, he wouldn’t be caught in the act.

The more he learned about you, the harder it was to quiet these thoughts. He had always found you pretty, but now his body and mind were becoming obsessed with you. He made a habit of collecting a pair of your panties from the hamper before leaving. He needed them for later, for the release that he craved, driven mad by the scent of you.

The sound of soft, melodic music flowed into your bedroom from behind the bathroom door. Sometimes it was girly pop songs, other times classical, but more often than not, it had the gentle, soothing quality of nursery music. Your bed was always neatly made, draped in a floral quilt, and you kept the same stuffed animals on top, meticulously placed. A small chesnut brown teddy bear, white bunny, and a tiny stuffed lamb. Each one had their own white ribbon wrapped around its neck, tied into a bow. 

One time he caught a glimpse of your nighttime skin care routine. You removed the light makeup you always wore and used about ten different products that Rafe didn’t recognize, nor could he guess their use. The last layer was always a light layer of lip balm and Rafe always leaned a bit closer when your puckered your lips in the mirror. His mind easily wandered to idea of your lips around him. 

You wouldn’t look so lonely, little lamb, if you just let me in. 

He had his suspicions about the secret, kinky things you were into. There had to be a reason you spent so much time by yourself. He didn’t get the answers he was looking for until one night when you’d left your laptop, unlocked on your desk. He took the opportunity to program his fingerprint into it too, just in case he needed to snoop again. 

He combed through your social media, public and private, and started checking your messages daily, keeping track of who you talked to, what you were up to. Your public social media was perfect. A mix of selfies with soft lighting, photos of cute coffee shops, and other things you deemed as your “aesthetic”. 

It was your camera roll that finally gave Rafe the answers he had been searching for. One folder, marked with a delicate pink heart, caught his attention immediately. Inside were photos of you, taken in front of your floor-length mirror. Each picture was eerily similar, the same vacant, wide-eyed expression on your face, as though you were lost in some faraway place.

You wore pajamas he’d never seen before, soft and childlike. Sometimes it was pastel-colored footie pajamas, other times it was nightgowns in soft shades of pink, lavender, or baby blue. In a few, you were bundled up in fuzzy socks or slippers with floppy bunny ears. Your hair was always styled with bows, either pink or white. There was a strange innocence in these details, one that clashed with the tension building inside Rafe as he scrolled through the images.

Sometimes you were biting down on your nails, others your thumb rested in your mouth, but most of the time you were gripping one of your stuffed animals tight to your chest. 

You looked...adorable. But in a way that made Rafe’s pulse quicken with something darker. The softness, the vulnerability you displayed in those photos, fed his obsession.

Another folder marked with a unicorn emoji held more photos that you’d saved. He recognized some of the characters from children’s TV shows he remembered Wheezie watching. Others were pictures from Disney movies, and Rafe quickly realized you had a special preference for the princesses. You seemed drawn to Cinderalla, Belle, and Snow White. It offered a glimpse into your mind, into your fantasies, how you were drawn to things with an air of purity and sweetness. 

Rafe’s heart slowed when a message popped up from someone named Mr. Hayes. Been thinking about you all day, sweetheart. The message said. A moment later, another one came. How was ur bath? 

Rafe opened the text thread and began to scroll. Each word that he read made his blood boil. There were too many messages for him to read. You’d sent him photos of yourself, let him call you pet names, and you’d even gone so far as calling him… Daddy. He’d never sent you a photo but that didn’t seem to matter. You were willing to share the details of your life with him. 

Rafe’s vision blurred with rage. Daddy. This virtual fantasy, a stranger who you didn’t even know, did not deserve your affection. He decided then you were his, whether you knew it or not. 

Rafe decided then to also make it a habit to check your messages. 

Several weeks later, you’d finally convinced Mr. Hayes to meet you in person. Rafe couldn’t let that happen. As your stepbrother and your protector, it would be wrong of him to let some stranger hurt you. Besides, he’d become obsessed to the point where now he was dying to know exactly who this man was. 

You didnd’t know any better, but he did. 

“Hey,” Rafe spoke to you the afternoon before your secret rendevouz, interrupting your fruit cutting, “My Dad just texted. Him and your Mom aren’t going to make it back tonight. There flight keeps getting delayed so they’re going to stay the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, okay,” You replied simply, returning back to your task again. 

“Wheezie’s sleeping at a friends and I’m probably going to a party at Kelce’s,” You gave him a look, as if it was strange to be conversating with him alone without the presence of the rest of their blended family, “...Do you want to come? It’ll be fun.”

You shook your head, “No, thank you. I’ll just stay in.”

Rafe leaned on the marble countertop, staring across the kitchen island at you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you go out one time since you moved in.” 

Rafe’s sudden interest in your habits had become more noticeable lately, but you figured it was nothing, just him being Rafe, always lurking in the background, watching everyone, everything. Your mother had warned you that she thought something was off about him and living with him over the past nine months had sealed the fact that you didn’t trust him. 

You didn’t trust many people at all, actually, never having had a stable home life. Your mother had always had money, or at least latched on to men who had money, but those men came and went. Even your mother wasn’t someone you could count on. She’d uprooted your life more than once, moving you across states just to be with a man who could give her the lifestyle she believed she deserved.

Mr. Hayes had offered you comfort in this transitional time. You had no one to confide your secret in accept for the communities you found online. It made you anxious to even think about finding a partner one day and having to explain this side of you. Friends on the internet wouldn’t judge you.

But online, the stakes felt lower. The people you spoke with, people like Mr. Hayes, didn’t judge. The risk of being truly seen, and rejected, was something you couldn’t handle. Not yet.

You paused what you were doing, knife hovering over a piece of strawberry, “You really want to spend the night alone. On a Friday night?” 

Rafe sauntered around the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made a shiver run down your spine. He knew he was handsome. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes that always had a raging storm behind them. His gold ring and his gold watch. Most important of all, he knew he intimidated you, his size being enough to make you feel smaller than you actually were. 

“I have to study,” You spoke curtly, trying to cut off the line of questioning you sensed was coming. You moved to keep cutting up your fruit but you paused again when Rafe reached out to grab a piece from the cutting board. You looked up at him as he popped the piece of strawberry into his mouth. 

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe’s lips pulled into a smirk, as if he was thriving on that power, the uncpoken tension in the air. The way he could make your heart race in that mix of fear and something else he knew you’d never admit. 

“Oh yeah?” Rafe placed a hand on the counter, “You have all weekend to study. C’mon, have some fun, princess.”

You took in a breath at the sound of the pet name. He hadn’t ever called you that before and for a moment it looked like he was seeing right through you. 

“I-” Quickly, you turned your head away, refocusing on the task, as your cheeks heated with embarrassment, “I’m okay, thanks.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to come out,” Rafe continued, his voice smooth, almost coaxing, “You got secret plans or something?”

“No,” You said quickly, “I told you, I’m studying.”

Rafe let out a dry chuckle, no real amusement behind it, “You sure you’re not just hiding?”

“It’s not your business,” You snapped finally, your tone icy, “And I… I don’t have to explain myself to you, Rafe. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you, princess,” You dropped the knife, your heart beating too fast, and you quickly picked up your pieces of fruit and placed them in your bowl. Rafe leaned closer, watching your every move, and the intensity of his gaze was starting to unravel you, “You’re so jumpy. It’s just me. No need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” You muttered but your fingers trembled as you grabbed ahold of your bowl of fresh fruit and your lamb cup. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Rafe took another step closer and you backed away from the counter.

“Stop it,” Your frustration flared, unsure of why exactly Rafe was trying to stir you up. Your lips pressed together and you tried to stop your reaction, but with him towevering over you, invading your space, you felt effectively suffocated. It wasn’t until your back was pressed into the stainless steal fridge, your bowl the only thing protecting you from being pushed against Rafe, that you actually flinched. 

“Hey,” Rafe lifted on arm, casually bracing his hand on top of the fridge as he looked down at you, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You swallowed hard. His voice was deceptively gentle, “Rafe–”

“I’m not trying to scare you, I promise,” Something flickered in his eyes, something you didn’t recognize, and for a moment, you questioned if you’d read this entire situation correctly, “I know how fragile you are. How scary the world can seem. I’m offering …you know …because I’d be there to protect you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

You blinked up at him. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of him trying to talk down to you. Rafe Cameon almost sounded caring. “You don’t need to be so on guard all the time,” Rafe continued. 

“I just …” You couldn’t stop the way your voice softened, “I like keeping to myself. It’s not that I don’t want to be around people. I just don’t …fit in here.”

Rafe nodded, his expression understanding, and it was the first time you looked at one another as real people, “I get it. You’re not like the other girls around here. You’re smarter, quieter … softer. You can trust me though, yeah? You don’t gotta hide from me.”

For a moment, everything felt like it would be okay. Maybe Rafe had managed to see you and was willing to understand you, unlike anyone else you had met on this island. It all felt real until you focused more on his eyes. Your expression had softened, melted from frustration to wide-eyed curiosity, and that had caused a shift in his eyes. You saw that flicker of darkness that you’d seen before. 

“I can look after you, ya’ know?” He said, voice dripping to a lower tone, “Help you. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Before you could respond, his other arm lifted, and you felt his fingers graze your cheek, the touch startlingly intimate. 

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Rafe’s jaw tightened, the mask he was wearing beginning to slip, “Don’t be like that, princess.” 

“Stop,” You managed to say, “Stay away from me.”

In just a few hours, you’d finally get to meet Mr. Hayes. None of Rafe’s games would matter then. When you went silent, you watched as Rafe’s hand balled into a fist and he turned his body away. 

“Suit yourself,” He’d said coldly, his void devoid of any of the warmth that was there before.  

You stared down at your bowl of fruit dumbfounded for a moment too long. Princess. How did Rafe know how desperately you wanted someone to call you that?

Rafe stayed at Kelce’s party until eleven He finished his last pabst blue ribbon, said goodbye to only a handful of his friends, before he made his way to his truck. Knowing they would find it strange for him to leave so early, he mad the excuse that he was going to meet up with a girl at the Island Club. 

In reality, Rafe was headed twenty minutes away, towards Winward Beach. Mr. Hayes wanted to meet you at midnight. One of the many red flags Rafe assumed you had ignored. You probably thought it was romantic, meeting at a secluded beach in the middle of the night. Like the two of you were fucking Romeo and Juliet. 

Stupid, Rafe thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tightly. 

Rafe parked his car in the small parking lot that sat near the boardwalk, turning off all of his lights, and waited for the creep to show up first. Rafe thought for a moment that neither of you might show when midnight started to approach. Maybe you’d wisened up, listened to your gut instinct that told you something wasn’t right. He didn’t believe it for long, you were too trusting. Too soft. 

When a tan sedan that Rafe didn’t recognize pulled up in a parking spot close to the walkway, Rafe knew who it was. In the dark and without any streetlights, he only saw a dark figure carrying a backpack make his way towards the beachwalk. He waited until the figure made it halfway before he climbed out of his truck. 

The moon was high, casting a white glow over the empty landscape. 

Anger simmered beneath Rafe’s skin as he watched the man from a safe distance. He moved with a nervous energy, often glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting to see someone. Wooden planks creaked softly under his weight but Mr. Hayes didn’t notice, not until he’d made it to the beach, and Rafe appeared behind him. 

The man turned his head, eyes wide with confusion. For a moment, this was all a coincidence. Rafe was a nobody, just a stranger taking a walk on the beach, until Rafe’s lips pulled into a smile, “Not what you were expecting?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Mr. Hayes was certainly not what Rafe was expecting. A completely unremarkable middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his thinning brown hair, pale skin, lightly freckled and a slight paunch that rested over the waistband of his dreams. A complete creep. Someone completely undeserving of even being looked at by you. 

Anger wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Rafe was feeling, “You’re Mr. Hayes?”

“What?” Up close, Rafe could see the way the man's eyes started to dart around. He took another step further and the man stumbled back in the thick sand, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just–”

“You’re just a coward?” Rafe finished, his tone mocking, “I mean, I understand now why you hid your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

Rafe interrupted again, snarling, his hand lashing out to grab the front of the man’s shirt. He yanked him forward and the man’s eyes went wild with panic, “Meeting up with an innocent girl in the middle of the night? Sneaking around like a creep? What’s in that fucking bag?”

“Nothing!” Mr. Hayes struggled. Rafe couldn’t believe how weak the man was. Strong enough to overpower you, maybe, but weak. As soon as the though of this man pinning you down in the sand crossed his mind, Rafe’s eyes went wild, “Nothing, I’m sorry!”

Rafe shoved him hard and the man stumbled backwards into the sand. He towered over the man, his shadow casting long across the beach. Waves crashed loudly in the background but Rafe’s voice boomed over the sound, “I don’t think you are! You probably thought you could just take what you wanted, huh? Fucking answer me!”

The man scrambled backwards, hands digging into the sand, backward hanging awkwardly from his shoulder. Why didn’t he just drop it …if he wasn’t hiding anything, he would let it go, “I wasn’t — I didn’t mean, I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know what? That she was half your age? That she was too good for you?” Rafe’s lip curled in disgust. He knelt down, his face inches from Mr. Hayes’s as his voice dropped to a whisper, “She’s not yours. She never will be.”

“Okay,” He nodded, holding out a hand as if to put distance between them, “I just wanted to meet her. I know I lied. I’m sorry. I won’t …it won’t happen again. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”

Rafe’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at the trembling man. Without another word, he grabbed for the backpack. The man resisted, of course, a series of “Wait, wait, wait,” leaves his lips. Rafe doesn’t leave space to argue because he pushed his palm into the man’s chest, pinning him down, before he lets his fist connect with the side of the man’s face. 

The man gasps, whimpers, as he curls into a ball on the sand, “F-Fuck!” The creep moans. Rafe pulls away the bag, ripping open the zipper, and dumping the contents onto the sand.

A cheap blanket, a cheap bottle of wine, and then Rafe’s eye catches on the condoms and then then the thick, coiled string of rope. Without another thought, Rafe was tackling the man, grabbing a hold of his collar, pulling him up and slamming his head into the ground over and over again. Rafe didn’t stop. He slammed his fist into the man’s face harder and harder. Each blow left a sickening crack echoing in the air. 

Crack. Groan of pain. Crack. Whimper, “You though you could hurt her? Touch what’s not yours? Brutalize her?” Rafe snarled, voice low and vicious. When the man finally went unconscious, his body limp, face bloody and unrecognizable, “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s chest heaved as he stared down at his work. Nothing about the blood and broken flesh bothered him. He looked down at his hand which were covered in the man’s blood and only felt satisfied. 

He’d protected you. His pulse spiked even more as he heard footsteps on the boardwalk. You’d shown up. Rafe watched you kick off flip flops and run towards them. No matter how dark it was, you were easily visible in the baby pink dress you’d chosen. The contrast between you and the violent seen before you sente a surge of protectiveness through him. He stood from where he knelt in the sand and quickly crossed the distance towards you. 

You slowed as you took in the scene before you, “Rafe?” you whispered, “Rafe, what’s … that’s not …oh my god.”

Rafe grabbed you by your arms, turning your shaking body away. It was a gruesome mess, nothing you should have to see, “He’s dead,” You spoke with wide, terrified eyes, “Wh-Why? You killed him.”

“He’s not dead,” Rafe said quickly, “He’s still breathing … I had to stop him.”

You didn’t listen, you turned your head and saw the unnatural position the man laid in, “Rafe, he’s dead!”

Rafe shook you slightly, “He’s not. I promise.”

“What did you do?” You cried, tears beginning to stream down your cheek. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He tried to assure you, “I had not. He was going to hurt you, Y/N. Look, he brought …he brought all that shit with him. There was rope in his bag, condoms … I did this for you!”

You shook your head, trying to pull away from Rafe’s bloody hands, “You beat him?” Your voice broke under the weight of your fear, “He’s not moving. You can’t …why would you–”

Rafe’s heart twisted in his chest. He wasn’t the one you were supposed to be afraid of, “He deserved it,” Rafe said, voice quiet and serious, “C’mon, we need to get out of here.”

Rafe tried to pull you but you resisted. Easily, he lifted you into his arms, bloody hands staining your skin and now your dress, “We have to call someone!” You shouted at him, hiccuping through your tears, “Rafe, put me down!”

Rafe ignored you, strides long and steady, carrying you back towards the beachwalk. It was better for Mr. Hayes if the police weren’t involved. Undoubtely, a man like that had a record. Rafe was doing him a favor by only leaving him bloody on the beach. 

In his arms, you were powerless. Your mind was reeling. Even in his bloody state, you knew the man there was not who Mr. Hayes had described himself as. Rafe could be right about all of this but it still felt wrong. 

In Rafe’s truck, you sat curled up against the door, your knees pulled to your chest. A dark and empty road stretched before you, yacht rock played at a low volume in the background, and Rafe’s heavy breathing was louder than any of your thoughts. 

Every few minutes, you stole a glance at him. The tension had yet to leave his body, though he was coming down from the adrenaline. His breathing was heavy but deliberate, as if he was attempting to calm himself, “I didn’t want you to see that, you know that, right?” Rafe said suddenly, breaking through the heavy silence, “Like …I know that was fucked up. You believe me, right? About what I said?”

Your throat tightened so much that your words came out strangled, “I don’t know … what to believe.”

“He was going to hurt you. If I hadn’t stepped in — If I-I hadn’t acted proactively, he would’ve hurt you. He would be hurting you right now. You know that, right?” The brutality of Mr. Hayes’s alleged actions began to cloud Rafe’s actions. He said it over and over. You couldn’t help that now you were imagining it. Maybe this was the only way to rationalize the situation. Maybe you had to believe him.

You saw the items in the sand. You saw that he’d lied about his age, about his appearance, and his intentions. He was the monster. That was the better version. Everything was a lot less wrong that way. 

“Y/N,” Rafe spoke again, his deep voice rattling your ear drums, “You know that.”

You finally nodded, ��Okay,” You agreed. 

“Good,” Rafe seemed to let out a breath of relief. Hands still tight on the steering wheel, he tilted his head back, “He wasn’t some innocent guy. I swear that to you. Like I wouldn’t lie about that shit.”

You nodded until your head started to hurt. 

“I did this for you,” Rafe said, “I’m so fucking glad you’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” You whispered as you wiped the wetness from your cheeks. Your eyes caught on the dried blood that wrapped around in a band on your arm, “...Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” Rafe voice turned gentler as he glanced over at you.

“Did you …look at my messages?”

Rafe’s demeanor grew casual, like the worst of his anxieties had passed, “I did what I had to do,” He said, like it was a simple explanation. He didn’t seem concerned at his obvious breach of privacy. Didn’t seem to understand that the pit in your stomach was deepening. 

“Then you…”

“Then I know,” He finished and you watched a sinister smile pull at his lips, “Aren’t you relieved? I know and I’m not judging you. I’ve been wanting to figure you out since I met you. And now there’s no secrets between us.”

“Rafe…” You began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “How could you?”

“I had to,” He insisted, “If I hadn’t, where would you be now? What if he had taken you? Killed you? What would that do to your mom?”

Your brows furrowed, trying to process his words, and the vile images that left in your mind, “The stuff on my phone is …private. It’s private for a reason. I don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” He countered, offering you a patronizing tone, “I know what you want, what you need. I’m happy to give you that. And I’d do a hell of better job than that waste of life on the beach.”

You connected the dots the moment those words left his lips. He wanted to be what Mr. Hayes had been to you. A caretaker. Someone to nurture your most innocent idea. 

“Rafe … Ward is married to my mom,” The most logical reason that was a crazy idea came to your mind quickly. 

“So?” He replied dismissevly. 

“You’re my stepbrother,” Not even that registered with him, “I don’t think …it’s not what I want.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Rafe reached across the console, gently but firmly grabbing ahold of your hand. You stared back at him with wide eyes, your fear obvious especially when he took his eyes off the road, “You’re confused. You were willing to trust a man on the internet when the perfect person to take care of you is right here with you. No one else. Me.”

Feeling trapped, your next thought became calming him down. For fear of him crashing the car or never loosening his grip, you forced your expression to soften, “I know you can protect me,” You nodded your head, “And thank you for that …I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was stupid. I’m …I’m glad you care about me like that.”

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, “Yeah?”

“It’s just a lot to take in. I had no idea …I just thought you were usually annoyed with me,” You said and rafe seemed to exhale, his shoulders loosening, “I trust you, it’s just a lot to process right now.”

“I get it,” Rafe let go of your hand, but gave you no time to feel relieved, because next he placed his strong, large hand on your thigh, “I think we’re good for each other. I just have to show you, Y/N.”

Tannyhill was empty except the two of you. Your heart raced as Rafe led you upstairs to your room, hand firmly on the small of your back. When the door to the bedroom softly clicked behind you, closing the two of you in, you felt like throwing up. 

You started to imagine Rafe wandering around, looking through all your things, all without your permission. He felt out of place there in your sanctuary but it was clear he’d made himself comfortable a long time a go. He led you over to the edge of your bed, and shakily, you sat down. He kneeled down in front of you, a position quite to vulnerable and intimate for you. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, voice deep in concerning. Lifting one of your heels from the ground, he looked closely at your legs, as if checking for an injury. 

You shook your head, know the most your body had been through tonight had been at his hands, “I’m okay,” You spoke, your voice small. 

Rafe looked up at you, “It’s okay if you’re not, yeah?” Rafe said, voice softening as his hand slid further up your leg. When you pulled your leg back, his grip remained firm, possessive, “Everyone’s gone. I’m asking you to lean on me, princess.”

With no hint of asking for permission, you stared back at your stepbrother. You couldn’t help but feel as if the timing of tonight had worked out eerily in his favor. Everyone in your family was gone for the night and there was no Mr. Hayes to text about your feelings. 

“I’m going to run the bath for you,” Rafe decided, lips parted as if he was deep in thought, “Yeah, stay right here.”

“I’m fine, I can do it–” You began as Rafe made his way towards your bathroom.

He held out a finger and you stopped your movements quickly, frozen by the intensity in his gaze, “Stay.” 

He didn’t have to raise his voice for you to feel the threat in his tone. Somehow, this version of him was scarier than the one that relentlessly struck a man until he was unrecognizable. 

The sound of running water filled the room. Closing your eyes, controlling your breathing, the sound brought you to your routine. That sound of running water was always soothing to you. It was usually how your mind was able to slip into that comforting place on the other side of your mind. Things were lighter there, a place where you had no cares at all, and you enjoyed the things that you’d normally be embarrassed by. You pressed your feet into your fuzzy white carpet, your favorite place to listen to music and do one of your coloring books. You were almost there, the water having tricked you into falling deeper, until you caught a glimpse of Rafe standing behind the door, washing blood away in the sink. 

You tightened your eyes even more, shaking your head. This was certainly not the time to let down your guard. 

He appeared moments later, drying his hands with one of your pink washcloths, “Come on, let’s get you ready,” He said, his head tilted towards the bathroom, his voice deceptively warm. 

Your feet betrayed you and you hesitantly crossed the room. Another door between you and your life before you knew Rafe felt this way. When it closed shut, you realized you’d sealed your fate. How could it be a mistake when this was the place in life where you felt safest? To accept something was wrong meant accepting that you had nowhere left to feel warm, innocent, or child-like. 

Fingers caressed your skin, lifting the hem of your dress, gently raising your arms, until you were standing in your underwear. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying again and it didn’t register how badly your lips were trembling until Rafe’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, “You’re okay,” He assured you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You’d wanted this desperately, for someone to see you and not want to run away. You wanted someone to take care of you, someone devoted to nurturing you. Your eyes locked on Rafe’s and you felt his palm against your bottom, fingers traveling beneath the fabric of your panties. You kept your head tilted up as he leaned down, pressing lips that were softer than could’ve ever imagined, against your neck. 

You melted against him. 

Vanilla and strawberry swirled in the air, strong but gentle hands caressed you, and your tears started to feel more like a release than a burden. He kissed the spot on your throat that had gone sore from all tears. 

“I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered and you felt it everywhere. 

After removing your bra and panties, he helped you into the bath. Quickly, the blood and tears seemed to leave your skin, as if you’d imagined them. He touched you in a way that more natural, human, than expected. With deliberate care, he moved his hands over you, an act that felt practiced. 

Everything dissolved there in the warm bath, the heaviness of the entire night. Bubbles clung to your skin, and your fingers moved lazily over the surface of the water. Rafe washing you, moving a soapy washcloth over your skin, should’ve felt strange but were left in that hazy place where things were simple. 

“This is how things are going to be,” You heard him say, “We’ll make it work, okay? You get to be yourself and I’m the one who takes care of you now. I’m your Daddy.”

You’d never said that word out loud. Daddy. It was a faraway concept, a dream …just like the cloud you were floating in right now. You hugged yourself, mind wandering to that soft bed with all of your plushies. 

“Say it, princess,” you turned your head to him, mouth parted, eyes curious. 

“Say what?” You asked in a whisper, an innocent haze in your eyes. 

He smiled. You had done something right. You gave him a soft smile too. He leaned closer, “Say ‘Daddy’,” He commanded softly, “Please, princess.”

Part of you hesitated, knowing you were giving away something precious. The other part wanted to please him, after all, he’d brought you this sense of peace. And maybe the sooner you made him happy, the sooner he’d tuck you into your warm bed, and let this long day finally end. 

“Daddy,” You tested out the word on your tongue and though it sounded fragile, his eyes seemed to light up, “...since you said please.”

Nothing could smoulder that spark of satisfaction in his eyes. The look made your heart flutter, a sharp contrast from before when it felt like exploding. 

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Your cheeks warmed and you turned your face to hide from him. You couldn’t take it when he looked at you like that. That look made it feel like everything was okay.

“I made a mistake,” Your voice came out in a whine. Rafe ran the warm cloth across your back, a reminder of that peaceful bubble he’d created around you. 

He shushed you, “You didn’t,” He assured you, “You’re a good person, a good girl. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

His words made you sink deeper. The soft strokes of the warm washcloth, the vanilla-scent against your skin, and the pressure against your most sensitive areas. You felt the tension in your body melt away further. 

Slowly, gripping your knees to your chest, you turned your face back towards him, “You can’t tell anybody, Rafe,” You whispered. 

“Never,” He said, leaning closer, “Pinky swear?”

Rafe reached his other hand toward you, his pinky finger extended in front of you, moving like he was carefully dismantling some fragile, like a bomb. You stared for a brief movement, surprised and warmed by the gesture. You had no idea Rafe was capable of being so gentle. You unwrapped yourself a little bit, bring your closest pinky towards his hand. Your smaller finger wrapped around his and you were tethered together. 

“There, I promise I won’t tell anyone, princess,” He looked at you deeply, “Okay?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, your hand falling gently back into the water,  “Let’s get you out of here before you wrinkle up,” He decided and you watched him cross the room to grab your towel hanging from the back of the bathroom door. He walked back with a quiet confidence and his grip was completely sure, deliberate, as he helped you from the tub, “I’ve got ya’.”

He’d wrapped one arm underneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you gently. You imagined pressing yourself into him but a towel soon separated you. You shivered, and instinctually, you wanted to dry yourself but Rafe took responsibility of that as well. He was so close, so protective. It was awkward at first, being able to take care of that mundane task but not having to. You leaned into it, letting your body be soothed by the ritual. 

You kept sinking. 

“Arms up,” He’d said after bringing you back to your bedroom. He chose an oversized purple t-shirt, designed with small pictures of cartoon pandas. For your underwear, he chose a light blue pair decorated with rainbows. Your eyelids grew heavy and after your first yawn, Rafe lifted you onto the side of your bed, “There you go. All set.”

You crawled into your cocoon further, settling underneat your quilt. You watched Rafe as you settled there, as he moved across the room. Your sleepy eyes widened for a moment, realizing his shirt was gone and that he was fiddling with the zipper of his pants. 

It was a threshold you’d never expected to reach, with Rafe or anyone else. The lights flicked off and the bed dipped beside you, your nerves sparked. You grabbed ahold of your lamb stuffed animal, letting that bring you a familiar comfort. Rafe nestled closer to you, his body at ease, relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you. 

You did your best to do the same, trying to lean into that same vulnerability you felt when he was bathing you. Warm skin against yours, strong hands on your waist, warm breath against your ear, it was overwhelming, “I-Is this okay?” You asked, breaking the silence. 

Looking for reassurance, you turned your head until your noses were almost pressed together. 

“Yeah,” Rafe spoke low and smooth, “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nervously, “I’m okay.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead and you took a deep breath, letting the feeling sooth your anxiety, “I’ve got you,”  Rafe’s fingers ran down your arm then to your waist. He held you there, feeling your flesh there, squeezing, “Daddy’s got you, baby.”

He touched you in new ways, gripped you hard in some places and softer in others. The kiss on your forehead turned into a kiss on your nose and then he placed soft lips against your cheek, “Relax,” He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re sleepy. I’ll do all the work.”

In your state of mind, his words felt like a riddle. What did he mean? You knew you liked his touch and that you wanted to sleep. Rafe knew more than you, clearly, maybe that’s what makes him a good Daddy. You should trust him. 

You closed your eyes as you let him press his face into your neck. He kissed you there, finding the most sensitive spot on your skin, and it made your lips part in a soft moan, “Call me Daddy,” He spoke against your skin, “Please, baby? Just say it and I’ll make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” You whispered back hesitantly and Rafe groaned, “D-Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Rafe cursed, grabbing a handful of your bottom, “That’s exactly what I want from you.”

You felt hardness pressing against your upper thigh and you gripped your lamb tighter. You leaned into sleep, letting Rafe move your body as he pleased, only moving your lips to whisper, “Daddy” in Rafe’s ear. He seemed please and you felt a warmness in your center that you wanted more of. 

Soon he was on top of you, your legs spread as he sat in between them. He rubbed you there. His rhythm was perfect, his accuracy impeccable, so much that you didn’t have to even move your hips to get the friction you needed. You panted and when you reached your peak, Rafe swallowed your moans, putting his mouth on your lips. 

It didn’t fully register to you when Rafe pushed your underwear aside and started to push inside of you. He was so gentle and you were so tired. He pulled your arms to the side, pressing his front against you, but you kept one hand wrapped around the arm of your stuffed animal, “Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy”

You winced when you felt all of him, and instinctively, you pushed at his heavy arms, “You’re okay,” He said, and his voice was louder to you than his heavy breathing or the sound of his skin hitting against yours, “You’re doing so good. Daddy’s almost done. You’re gonna make me cum so fast, Y/N. Shit.”

The satisfaction and pride in his words brought almost enough warmth to mask the pain of being stretched by him. You slowly grew used to the feeling but the feeling was so intense and you had so little energy to withstand it, to take all of him. 

“Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

His thrust slowed but his weight kept you pinned there. He grabbed ahold of your chin and you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. His mouth was parted, his eyes holding a darkness that you thought had gone away, “Jesus, baby.”

As he shifted to his side, all you could muster was to turn away, pulling your lamb close to your chest and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Rafe nestled against you once more, his hands gripping your hips until your bottom was pressed firmly against him. You felt the warmth of his lips against your hair, and then his sleepy voice whispered, “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Reblog and comment if you enjoyed, would love to know your thoughts!!

[faebled-stories]

No Strings, No Heart

Kinkvember Day 23: Friends with Benefits

ITZY Lia (Choi Jisu) x Male reader

13.3k words

You and Lia had been friends since high school, back when neither of you had any idea what life would have in store. She had been the new girl, fresh from Canada, with a soft-spoken voice and an air of quiet confidence that intrigued everyone, including you. You’d been assigned seats next to each other in English class, and what started as casual small talk soon grew into a friendship you hadn’t expected.

Lia, or Jisu as she’d been known then, had dreams even back then that set her apart. While most of your classmates were focused on cramming for college entrance exams or deciding what clubs to join, Lia was already chasing something bigger: a career in music. She was always humming under her breath, jotting lyrics in the margins of her notebook, and rushing off to auditions after school.

When she finally became a trainee, it wasn’t a surprise, but it did mark the start of a more distant phase in your friendship. She spent most of her time at the company, training long hours, while you finished school and moved on to university.

Despite the distance, you kept in touch—texts here and there, occasional coffee meetups when she had a rare free day. When she debuted with ITZY, you were one of the first to congratulate her, your heart swelling with pride as you watched her music videos and performances from your tiny apartment.

Even as her life grew more hectic, Lia never let go of your connection. Whenever her schedule allowed, she’d call you up, sometimes late at night, her voice exhausted but warm as she asked about your day, complaining about the pressures of idol life in the same breath. She was still Jisu to you, your old high school friend, even as the world knew her as Lia.

-----

It was one of those late-night meetups—a rainy evening in her cozy Seoul apartment—that changed the dynamic between you. Her space smelled of vanilla candles and faintly of jasmine tea, her usual go-to after a long day. You sat awkwardly on her beige couch, holding a mug that was almost too hot, watching her as she lounged on the floor, cross-legged in an oversized sweater and shorts.

“You’re always so tense,” Lia said suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft patter of rain against the windows. Her damp hair fell in natural waves around her face, framing her features in a way that was almost disarming. This was not the poised, camera-ready idol the world saw. This was the Lia you knew—barefoot, casual, real.

You chuckled nervously, unsure where she was going with this. “Work’s been crazy, I guess.”

“That’s always your excuse,” she teased, setting down her mug with a soft clink. “But honestly, you’ve been like this since high school. Always wound up. Always overthinking.”

“Well, sorry for being consistent,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

She smiled too, but there was something different in her expression—something calculated yet sincere. “You know, we could help each other out.”

Your brow furrowed. “Help each other out… how?”

Lia tilted her head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “I don’t want anything complicated,” she began, her tone careful but confident. “No drama, no commitments. Just… something easy. For both of us.”

The words felt surreal, hanging in the air between you. “Wait, are you saying…?”

“I’m saying,” she interrupted, her voice softer now, “that we’re both stressed. Both stuck in our own routines. And you’re… safe.”

“Safe?” you echoed, unsure whether to feel flattered or insulted.

Lia rolled her eyes, laughing. “You know what I mean. I trust you. You’re not going to do anything stupid like fall in love with me. And let’s be honest—you’ve never been great with relationships.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, though you couldn’t deny the accuracy of her words. Dating had never come easily to you, and Lia knew it better than anyone.

“I’m just saying it makes sense,” she said, her smile softening into something almost reassuring. “We’ve known each other forever. We trust each other. And I need… an escape, you know? A way to blow off steam without it becoming a mess.”

You hesitated, turning the idea over in your head. “I don’t know, Lia. Stuff like this—doesn’t it get messy?”

“Not if we’re honest with each other,” she said simply. “We set boundaries. We stick to them. And if it doesn’t work, we stop. No harm, no foul.”

Her words were logical, almost too logical, and the idea of being close to someone you trusted—someone who understood you without the usual complications—was more tempting than you wanted to admit.

“I… guess,” you said finally, your voice tinged with hesitation. “If you’re sure about this.”

Lia’s smile widened, a spark of relief and something else—satisfaction?—in her eyes. “I’m sure.”

And just like that, the boundaries of your friendship shifted. You told yourself it was perfect—a way to connect without risking anything deeper.

The first few times were… great. Better than great. There was an ease to it that neither of you had anticipated, a natural rhythm that made it feel less like a new arrangement and more like something that had always been there, waiting to be discovered. The way your bodies fit together was effortless, as though they’d been designed for this connection, every touch and movement aligning perfectly. It wasn’t just about the physical pleasure—though that was undeniable—it was the comfort of being close to someone who understood you in a way no one else did.

Lia had a way of melting into your arms, her laughter and sighs carrying a vulnerability that made the moments feel intimate even in their simplicity. You liked similar things, and exploring that together felt easy, seamless. The way her breath hitched against your skin, the way she responded to every touch with a soft moan or a shiver, made it feel less like an arrangement and more like a quiet escape for both of you.

When she reached for you in the stillness of her room, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness—just a mutual understanding that you could let go with each other.

It was everything she had promised: no drama, no complications. It was a release, a way to step outside the stress of your individual lives and find solace in each other. You told yourself that this was enough, that it didn’t need to mean anything more. And for a while, it didn’t.

But then, one night, everything shifted.

The atmosphere in Lia’s room felt thick with the unspoken, a cocoon of warmth and intimacy as the world outside faded away. The soft scent of jasmine and the lingering notes of her perfume were a quiet contrast to the faint tension in her voice as she spoke.

“It’s been… such a day,” she said with a sigh, leaning back against the headboard, her oversized sweater slipping from one shoulder. Her fingers idly played with the hem, a distraction as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I feel like everyone wanted a piece of me today. The schedules, the cameras, the smiles—they don’t stop.”

You nodded, sitting close enough to her that the faintest brush of her knee against yours sent sparks up your spine. “You don’t have to explain. I can see it,” you said softly, meeting her eyes. “You’re always carrying so much.”

Her lips twitched into a small, tired smile. “Sometimes, I wish I could just turn it all off. Just… for a little while.”

“You can, here,” you offered, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing. “You don’t have to be anything but you.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to touch your arm, her fingers grazing your skin. “That’s why I asked you to come tonight,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost fragile. “I need this. I need you.”

The weight of her words hit you with a force you weren’t entirely prepared for, but you nodded, leaning in slightly. “I’m here,” you said simply, your hand finding hers and squeezing gently.

The next moments unfolded slowly, deliberately, as if neither of you wanted to rush. Her sweater slipped further, pooling around her elbows as she lifted it over her head and let it fall to the floor. Her body, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, was breathtaking. She looked up at you, her eyes steady but vulnerable, as if daring you to say something, to break the spell.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, the words escaping before you could stop them.

A soft laugh escaped her, and she reached up to brush your cheek. “You’re such a sap,” she teased, though her voice was warm, her expression soft. “But I like it.”

You leaned in to kiss her, your lips meeting in a slow, deliberate connection. It started tenderly, a gentle brush of warmth, but quickly deepened, your hands finding her waist, her hips, exploring the curve of her body. She gasped softly against your lips, her hands sliding under your shirt to tug it off, the cool air of the room making your skin prickle as she traced patterns along your chest.

Guiding her back against the bed, you hovered over her, her hair spilling across the pillow in soft waves like a dark halo. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her features, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips evidence of the moment’s growing intensity. Her hands found your shoulders, her touch steady but eager as her breath quickened. The feel of her bare skin against yours, the warmth of her body beneath you, sent a rush of heat through you.

Before moving further, you paused, reaching for the small foil packet on the bedside table. Lia watched you, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her gaze steady yet filled with trust. You slipped the condom on quickly, her hand brushing lightly against your arm in a silent gesture of reassurance.

As you align yourself with her, you paused again, your gaze locking onto hers. “Are you ready?” you asked softly, the weight of your question hanging in the quiet space between you.

Her lips curled into a faint smile, and her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. “Absolutely, I need this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with unmistakable longing. “I need you.”

The moment of joining was slow, deliberate, her body tensing slightly as you pressed into her. A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her fingers tightening on your shoulders, her nails faintly digging in as she adjusted to the closeness. You paused, giving her time, your heart pounding in sync with hers. Her breaths quickened, each rise and fall of her chest matching the rhythm you were beginning to create. The heat of her skin against yours was all-consuming, grounding and electrifying all at once.

You began to move, slow and measured, each motion deliberate. Her soft moans and quiet gasps filled the air, small sounds that spurred you on, each one sending shivers down your spine. Her hands roamed your back, nails occasionally dragging across your skin, her hips lifting instinctively to meet yours. The connection between you was unspoken but undeniable, a rhythm building that felt less like something physical and more like a quiet surrender.

Her lips parted as she whispered your name, her voice soft and trembling, a plea that made your chest ache. The way she looked up at you took your breath away. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes fluttering open and shut, and the vulnerability in her gaze made you falter for a moment. You’d always thought Lia was beautiful, but here, now, she was something more—raw, open, and completely unguarded. Every quiet sound she made, every brush of her hands against you, seemed to weave a thread between you that went far beyond the act itself.

Your pace deepened, becoming more deliberate as you leaned down to capture her lips. Her response was immediate, her mouth opening to you as her hands slid into your hair, pulling you closer. The heat between you grew, a symphony of gasps, moans, and murmured words filling the space. Her legs tightened around your waist, her body pressing into yours as if to pull you even closer.

You pulled back slightly, your lips trailing down her jawline to her neck, brushing over the delicate curve of her throat. Her skin was warm and flushed beneath your touch, and you felt her shiver as your mouth moved lower, pressing kisses behind her ear. The spot you’d discovered during your time together—the one that always drove her wild. Her reaction was immediate, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her body arched into you.

Her hands clung to your shoulders as your lips continued their path, down her collarbone and toward the swell of her chest. You paused for a moment, letting your tongue flick gently over the sensitive skin there, before capturing one of her nipples between your lips. Lia let out a low, trembling moan, her nails digging into your back as you lavished attention on her. You alternated between gentle kisses and firmer, more deliberate nips, her body responding to each one with a sharp intake of breath or a soft cry.

Your free hand roamed over her body, sliding along the curve of her waist and the dip of her hips. You teased her other breast with your fingertips, rolling and brushing against her skin in time with the rhythm of your lips. Her body writhed beneath you, her hips lifting instinctively as if to draw you closer, the heat between you growing with every touch.

From her chest, your lips traveled downward, leaving a trail of warmth across her stomach. Lia’s breathing grew heavier, her hands tangling in your hair as you moved lower, savoring the way her body reacted to every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue. Her quiet whimpers and soft moans filled the room, a soundtrack to the intimacy building between you.

You moved back up, your mouth returning to the curve of her neck, brushing kisses along her jawline before finding her lips again. The kiss was deep and consuming, her hands pulling you closer as though she couldn’t get enough of you. Her legs tightened around your waist once more, her body pressing into yours as the rhythm between you grew more urgent, more deliberate.

Her reactions—each shiver, each soft cry, each whispered plea—fueled you, blurring the line between physical connection and something deeper. You knew every spot that made her tremble, every touch that left her gasping, and you used them all, the intimacy between you growing with each passing moment. It wasn’t just her body you craved—it was her trust, her surrender, the way she opened herself to you completely, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Her voice broke through your focus, her breathless words trembling as she gasped, “You feel so good… Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and strained, barely able to contain the emotions coursing through you. Her flushed cheeks, the vulnerability in her gaze, the way her body clung to yours—it all struck you in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

The tension between you built steadily, every motion pulling you both closer to a precipice. Her moans grew louder, breaking into desperate cries as her body moved in sync with yours. Her hips met you with an urgency that matched your own, and her hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, her nails dragging against your skin.

“I’m so close,” she whimpered, her voice trembling and raw in a way that sent shivers through you. Her head tilted back, her body arching beautifully beneath you as she clung to you like you were her lifeline. “I—oh my god, I’m cumming… I love it, don’t stop, please.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, the raw need in her voice breaking through every wall you’d built around your feelings. Her climax overtook her in a wave, her body trembling violently as she cried out, her voice unguarded and desperate. The sight of her face, twisted in pure ecstasy, sent a jolt through you. Her name fell from her lips like a prayer, her body shuddering as she reached the peak, clutching at you with a force that left no doubt of the depth of her release.

And then, it hit you—seeing her like this, so open, so completely undone, you realized something you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to be the only one to give her this feeling. The thought struck like lightning, leaving you trembling even as your own release loomed. It wasn’t just about the act—it was about her, about how much you wanted to hold onto this moment, this connection, this vulnerability that was uniquely hers.

Your climax followed, surging through you in powerful, unrelenting waves as you buried your face in her neck. A guttural groan escaped you, your body trembling with the intensity of it. The warmth of your release pooled into the condom, each pulse carrying with it the weight of everything you’d been holding back. The sensations were overwhelming, magnified by the realization that this wasn’t casual for you anymore. Maybe it never had been.

Even as the waves subsided, you stayed close, holding her tightly against you. Her fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns along your back, her touch grounding you as your heart pounded against hers. Her breaths were soft, mingling with your own in the quiet aftermath. The intimacy of the moment was almost too much, yet you didn’t want it to end.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, your heart still racing as you pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips curved into a faint, tired smile, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with unspoken emotions that neither of you seemed ready to name.

You leaned back carefully, slipping out of her with a quiet groan as her body shuddered at the loss of closeness. Reaching down, you removed the condom, tying it off as you moved to the side of the bed. Lia’s gaze followed you, her cheeks still rosy from the exertion, and when her eyes landed on what you held, her lips quirked into a teasing smile.

“Wow,” she said, her voice still breathy but laced with playful amusement. “You’ve been… pent up, huh?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the tension between you easing slightly at her tone. “Yeah, maybe a little,” you admitted, your voice still low and rough from the intensity of the moment.

She laughed, a soft, light sound that made your chest tighten again, her fingers brushing over your arm as if to reassure you. “I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said, her smile widening slightly as she leaned back against the pillow, her gaze softening.

In that moment, as you looked at her—flushed, vulnerable, yet teasing—you couldn’t ignore the shift that had happened. Whatever boundaries had existed between you before were gone, and the weight of that realization lingered, pressing gently against your heart.

You stood, disposing of the condom in the bathroom, your mind still reeling from everything that had just unfolded. The intensity of the moment lingered, but it wasn’t just the physical closeness that consumed you—it was the emotions swelling in your chest, threatening to spill over. You tried to push the thoughts aside as you cleaned up, focusing on the simple motions as a way to steady yourself.

When you returned to the bed, Lia was already nestled under the blankets, her cheeks still faintly flushed, her hair spilling over the pillow in soft waves. She looked up at you, her eyes warm and inviting, and without a word, she lifted the blanket in a silent invitation. It was a gesture you’d grown accustomed to—a familiar rhythm that had followed these nights together. But this time, something about it felt heavier, weighted with an unspoken shift between you.

You climbed into bed beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. She moved closer almost instinctively, her body curling into yours, her head resting against your chest as her arm draped across your stomach. The warmth of her, the way she fit so perfectly against you, was both comforting and terrifying.

Her breathing began to slow, her body relaxing as if this was the most natural thing in the world. And it was—for her. For you, though, the usual ease wasn’t there. You lay stiffly, staring up at the ceiling as a moment of dread washed over you.

You’ve broken the rules.

It hit you with the weight of a confession you’d been avoiding for weeks, maybe months. You’d convinced yourself this was fine, that you could keep things casual, that it was just a way to connect without getting too close. But tonight had shattered that illusion. You weren’t just drawn to Lia—you’d fallen for her.

Your chest tightened as the realization settled in. The way she laughed, the way she trusted you enough to let her guard down, the way she made you feel seen in a way no one else ever had—it wasn’t just something you could brush aside anymore. It was real, and it was terrifying.

You glanced down at her, your heart aching as you took in the soft curve of her lips, the peaceful expression on her face. She looked so at ease, so content, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb that. But the weight of your feelings pressed heavily against your chest, threatening to suffocate you.

Lia shifted slightly, her arm tightening around you as if sensing your tension. “You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but laced with curiosity. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper as you forced yourself to relax beneath her touch. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Because as much as you wanted to stay in this moment—her warmth, her closeness—you knew that everything had changed. You’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross, and now you weren’t sure what to do.

-----

The weeks that followed were an emotional minefield. Every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every moment Lia curled up beside you after an intense night—all of it dug deeper into the growing pit in your chest. It wasn’t just about intimacy anymore; it was everything. The way she smiled at you, her guard let down for just a moment. The way she playfully mocked your quirks, grounding you with the ease of someone who knew you better than anyone. You craved her in ways that went beyond physical. You wanted all of her—her bad days, her hopes, her fears, and everything in between.

But you couldn’t say it.

The rules had always been clear: no emotions, no strings, no complications. Lia had built walls around herself, walls you understood were necessary given her chaotic life. Your arrangement was her sanctuary, an escape from the pressures of her career, her fame, and the unrelenting expectations placed on her shoulders. You told yourself that being her safe space was enough. It had to be.

That night had started like many others, but it carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. As the moment reached its peak, Lia shifted downward, her lips trailing across your skin with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers coursing through you. When her mouth finally enveloped you, a deep groan escaped your lips, your hand instinctively tangling in her hair.

Her movements were teasing but purposeful, each flick of her tongue measured to drive you closer to the edge. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with mischief yet laced with something softer, something deeper. “You’ve been so stiff lately,” she murmured, her breath warm against you before continuing, her voice low and sultry as her tongue worked with maddening precision.

The intimacy overwhelmed you, her familiarity with your body leaving you utterly undone. She knew exactly how to unravel you, to find the places that made you tremble, the rhythm that pushed you to your breaking point. When your release finally overtook you, it was overwhelming, waves of pleasure crashing through you with an intensity that left you trembling. Your fingers tightened briefly in her hair as a hoarse gasp escaped you, the heat of the moment leaving you breathless.

Lia pulled back gently, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She moved back up to lie beside you, her body fitting against yours with an ease that should have felt comforting. But this time, it didn’t. This time, it felt different.

She settled against you, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. Her hair tickled your skin, her warmth both soothing and torturous as a quiet dread began to build in your chest. It wasn’t just physical anymore—this was heavier, filled with emotions you couldn’t keep bottled up.

Before you could stop yourself, the words rose in your throat. “Jisu,” you began softly, her name catching in your throat.

She hummed in response, her eyes still closed, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Hmm?”

“Do you ever think…” You hesitated, the words feeling too heavy, too dangerous. But they pushed forward anyway, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever think this could be something more?”

Her eyes opened slowly, the smile fading as her expression shifted into something unreadable. She propped herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in soft waves around her face, the sheets slipping slightly off her shoulder. Her gaze met yours, searching and cautious, and the seconds stretched into an eternity.

“Why are you asking?” she asked softly, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest as you scrambled for a response. “I was just thinking,” you lied, the words tumbling out too quickly. “It’s nothing. I don’t know, just… a thought.”

Her expression didn’t change, her gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before she sat up fully. Wrapping the blanket around herself like a shield, her voice was calm but resolute as she said, “Hmm, no, I don’t think so. The reason this works is because it’s casual. If we start complicating things, it’ll ruin everything.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, sharp and cutting in their finality. You nodded slowly, forcing a smile you didn’t feel. “Oh… yeah… You’re right. Forget I said anything.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She lay back down, resting her head on your chest again as if nothing had happened. Her breathing evened out, her warmth against you a cruel comfort. But for you, everything had changed.

The words you’d been holding back, the feelings you’d buried, wouldn’t stay quiet anymore. They clawed at you, louder with every passing day, until the very thought of continuing like this felt unbearable. You had broken the rules, and the weight of that truth suffocated you in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

-----

Over time you tried convinced yourself to accept her boundaries, telling yourself that being with Lia on her terms was better than not having her at all. But that fragile resolve cracked wide open the day you saw the article.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind of day meant for doing nothing. Sunlight spilled through your apartment windows, painting the floor in golden streaks as you scrolled absently through your phone. Outside, the faint hum of the city mixed with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, a peaceful backdrop to your aimless thoughts.

Then your phone buzzed, pulling you from the haze of routine. Without thinking, you tapped the notification.

The headline hit like a physical blow: "ITZY’s Lia Spotted on a Romantic Date with beloved Idol."

Your stomach tightened instantly, a sharp ache blooming in your chest as you scrolled through the accompanying photos. Each swipe felt like tearing open a wound. There she was, walking arm-in-arm with another idol. The soft rustling of the park’s trees in the background, the dappled sunlight falling on their faces—it all looked so serene, so effortless. Their casual clothes hinted at an attempt to keep things discreet, but the atmosphere around them screamed intimacy.

And then one photo stopped you cold.

Her head tilted slightly, her hair catching the sunlight like a halo. Her eyes—soft and filled with a warmth that felt painfully familiar—were fixed on him. She was smiling, bright and genuine, the corners of her lips curving in a way that was devastatingly effortless. That smile was reserved for someone special. Someone who wasn’t you.

Your chest ached, a dull yet unrelenting pain spreading through you as you stared at the screen. The world around you seemed to fade, the sunlight that had once felt comforting now harsh and uninviting. The faint hum of the city became muffled, replaced by the deafening rush of your own thoughts.

Has she ever looked at you like that? Has she ever smiled at you in that way, with that kind of quiet adoration? A part of you knew the answer, even if you didn’t want to admit it. The answer cut deeper than anything she’d ever said or done.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you stared at the image, the knot in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. You could almost hear her laugh in your head, see the way she looked at you during your private moments together. But it wasn’t the same. It had never been the same.

The sharp buzz of another notification snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Lia’s name flashed across the screen, her message simple: “Are you free?”

The words sat at the top of your screen, directly above the article. The juxtaposition was cruel, a perfect encapsulation of everything that had been tearing you apart. Your thumb hovered over the notification, your mind swirling with a chaotic mix of emotions—anger, hurt, jealousy, longing. Every rational part of you screamed not to reply. To protect yourself. To draw a line before it was too late.

But as always, your heart betrayed you.

The faint sound of your breathing filled the room, shallow and uneven as you tapped her message. You opened the chat, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed the only thing you knew how to say to her.

"Yeah, I’ll be there."

The moment you hit send, the weight in your chest seemed to shift, but it didn’t lift. Instead, it settled deeper, anchoring itself to the realization you were too afraid to face: no matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t walk away. Not from her. Not yet.

-----

Lia greeted you at her apartment door with the same casual ease as always, dressed in a loose sweatshirt that hung just off one shoulder and shorts that left little to the imagination. Her hair was tied back loosely, and the faint scent of her lavender body lotion hung in the air as she stepped aside to let you in. She smiled, warm and familiar, but to you, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“Hey,” she said softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her tone carried a cheerfulness that felt almost jarring compared to the turmoil swirling inside you. “Rough day?”

You swallowed hard, your thoughts tangled with the image of the article’s photos. The memory of her walking arm-in-arm with someone else clung to you like a shadow, an ache that wouldn’t loosen its grip. “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice flat. “Something like that.”

Her brows knitted slightly, a flicker of concern crossing her face before she masked it with another smile, softer this time. “Come in,” she said gently, stepping aside. “Let me fix you some tea or something.”

You followed her inside, the familiar warmth of her cozy apartment stirring something deep and painful within you. The dim lighting, the scent of jasmine mingling with lavender, the soft hum of a playlist you knew by heart—it should have felt comforting, but tonight it only made the ache worse. To her, everything seemed normal, unchanged. But to you, every gesture, every laugh, felt magnified, a sharp contrast to the images still burned into your mind.

She led you to the couch, her steps light and unbothered, her usual ease a stark reminder of how differently you were experiencing this moment. She sat close to you, her knee brushing against yours as she turned to face you fully. “You seem tense,” she said softly, her voice lowering into something soothing. Her hand rested lightly on yours, her touch simple yet disarming, as if she could sense the weight pressing down on you. “Let me help.”

You hesitated, the memory of her smile in those photos flashing through your mind. The warmth she had shown to someone else, the intimacy of it, felt like a stark contrast to the Lia sitting here with you now. Part of you wanted to pull back, to say something, to ask her what that meant, but the words wouldn’t come. Her touch, her presence—it was too much to resist, and before you could think better of it, her lips were on yours.

The kiss was familiar, practiced, but this time, it felt different. Your movements were slower, less certain. A part of you wanted to push her away, to demand answers, but the other part—the part of you that craved her touch, her presence—won. You kissed her back, the frustration and longing coiling tightly in your chest, fueling your every move.

Her hands slid beneath your shirt, tugging at it with the ease of someone who knew you too well. Your resolve crumbled under her touch, the confrontation slipping further from your mind. It could wait, you told yourself. For now, you let the emotions swirling within you—frustration, jealousy, and something darker—take over.

By the time you reached the bedroom, something inside you had shifted. The weight of your suppressed emotions guided your actions, a storm of unspoken feelings driving every touch, every motion. You turned her toward the bed, your hand firm on her shoulder as you eased her down to her knees.

Without a word, you unbuttoned your pants, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet room like a spark igniting the air. Lia’s eyes followed the motion, her gaze flicking downward before snapping back up to meet yours. Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before melting into something softer, almost eager. When you pressed yourself to her lips, her hesitation was brief. Her hands found their place on your thighs, steadying herself as she took you in.

The shift in her was immediate. This wasn’t like before—this wasn’t the usual playful or restrained dynamic between you. You gripped her hair firmly, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you guided her movements. Lia’s soft, muffled moan against you sent a shiver down your spine, the vibration electrifying. The control you felt, the way she surrendered so willingly, was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but give in to the moment fully.

Your hips began to move, your thrusts deliberate but rough, each one pushing deeper as you set the rhythm. Lia’s hands tightened their grip on your thighs, her fingers curling slightly as her body swayed to match your motions. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and her breathing grew heavier between moments when you gave her just enough time to adjust. She looked up at you, her wide, watery eyes filled with surprise and a growing hunger. This wasn’t what she’d expected, but the way her body responded told you everything—this was what she wanted, what she craved.

Her moans grew louder, though muffled, as her lips and tongue worked in perfect sync with your movements. Her usual confidence had melted away, leaving behind a raw vulnerability that only fueled you further. This side of you—assertive, unrelenting—was something she hadn’t expected, and the way she gave herself over to it was driving you wild.

You tightened your grip on her hair, guiding her more firmly as her hands clutched at your thighs for balance. Her breathing was heavy, her moans blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds that filled the room. Tears began to streak her cheeks as her throat constricted around you, her body tensing slightly as she fought to keep up. Still, her eyes never left yours, wide and watery but filled with trust and unmistakable arousal.

Her muffled cries grew needier as your rhythm intensified, her nails digging into your thighs as her body trembled. The tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core, every sound she made pushing you closer to the edge. When her moan vibrated against you again, it sent you spiraling, your hips moving faster, rougher, with a desperation you couldn’t suppress.

You felt yourself reaching the breaking point, your control slipping entirely. Lia’s breathing hitched, her hands shifting to grip you tighter as you thrust one last time. Your release hit like a flood, overwhelming and unstoppable. A guttural groan tore from your throat as you came, the heat surging through you in waves. Lia’s body instinctively tensed beneath you. Her throat worked desperately, swallowing each hot pulse as it filled her mouth. Her gag reflex kicked in more than once, her soft, choked sounds blending with the wet, rhythmic movements that echoed in the room. Despite her efforts, some of it spilled from the corners of her lips, trickling down her chin in thin, glistening streams. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter, her nails pressing into your skin as she did her best to keep up, her flushed cheeks stained with tears and exertion.

Her breathing was uneven, her body trembling with the effort to take everything you gave her. When you finally pulled back, a string of fluid connected you briefly before breaking, her tongue darting out to clean her lips as she gasped for air. Lia’s eyes lifted to meet yours, glassy and dazed, her expression a mix of exhaustion, surprise, and something playful.

She wiped at her chin with the back of her hand, her lips curving into a faint, teasing smile. “Fuck that was hot,” she murmured hoarsely, her voice laced with mischief despite her breathlessness. “What's gotten into you?”

You didn’t respond, the fire in your chest still burning too hot for words. Instead, you leaned down slightly and tapped your member against her cheek a couple of times, the wet sound punctuating the charged silence. Lia blinked up at you, her flushed face lighting up with surprise, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

Without a word, you reached down, your hands finding hers as you pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion. She let out a soft, surprised laugh, stumbling slightly against your chest. Her body was still trembling, her knees unsteady from the intensity of what had just happened. She clung to you for balance, her breath brushing against your neck as she steadied herself. 

Before she could add anything else, your hands moved to her sweatshirt, gripping the fabric at the hem. Her laughter faded into a small, knowing smile as she raised her arms without hesitation, letting you strip it off her in one smooth motion. The air between you felt charged, electric, as the garment fell to the floor.

Her shorts followed quickly, her own fingers fumbling with the waistband as though eager to match your urgency. The two of you moved in tandem, discarding every barrier until she stood before you, bare and breathtaking in the dim light. The soft glow illuminated every curve, every flushed detail of her skin, making her look impossibly beautiful.

You climbed onto the bed, hovering over Lia as she lay beneath you, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body still trembling from the intensity of earlier. Without a word, you captured her lips in a bruising kiss, pouring all the frustration, anger, and sadness you’d been bottling up into the connection. Her soft moan was muffled against your mouth as she melted into you, her hands reaching up to grip your shoulders.

You didn’t stop there. Your lips trailed away from hers, moving down the curve of her jaw to her neck, where you nipped at her skin with sharp, deliberate bites. Lia gasped and squirmed beneath you, her body reacting instinctively to each sting of your teeth, her fingers clutching at you for balance. The sound of her soft whimpers drove you on, each one fueling the storm raging inside you.

Your hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as you moved lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to her collarbone. You didn’t hesitate to bite there too, hard enough to make her arch her back, her body pressing closer to you as though craving the sting. Her breaths grew quicker, her chest heaving as she writhed beneath your relentless attention.

Her squirming only pushed you further, your need to control, to channel the storm within you, manifesting in the way you held her down. One hand moved to her neck, wrapping around her throat in a firm, deliberate grip. Lia’s reaction was immediate—her body froze for a second, her breath catching, before her eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours. There was no fear in her gaze, only surprise and raw, unfiltered desire.

You didn’t pause, letting your other hand slide down her body, brushing over her stomach before reaching her folds. The heat and slickness there were undeniable, and it made you tighten your grip on her neck as your fingers teased her entrance. Lia gasped, her body jerking at the touch, her hands clutching at the sheets for balance as her hips instinctively pressed toward you.

You didn’t slow down, slipping two fingers inside her in one swift, deliberate motion. Her reaction was instant—a choked moan escaping her lips as her body arched against your hand, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. You tightened your grip on her neck, holding her firmly in place as you set a rough, relentless rhythm, each thrust of your fingers matching the intensity of your emotions.

Her breaths came in short, desperate gasps, her body completely at your mercy. You didn’t let up, your fingers curling inside her, hitting all the right spots as her moans grew louder. The way she reacted—the way her body writhed and her voice broke with every movement—pushed you further into the haze of emotion driving your every move.

Lia’s hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she clawed at the fabric, her head tilting back as her lips parted in a silent plea. Her hips began to shift, trying instinctively to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t give her the chance. Each time her body tried to escape, you followed her movement with ruthless precision, maintaining the relentless pace that left her gasping and trembling beneath you.

“Please,” she choked out, her voice cracking as her hips jerked sharply against your hand, torn between chasing the pleasure and trying to find relief from the intensity. Her thighs quivered as the wet, obscene sounds from her folds filled the room, mixing with her soft, desperate whimpers.

Your fingers thrust with relentless precision, plunging deeply while curling just enough to make Lia cry out with every motion. Her gasps turned into desperate, broken cries, the sound spilling from her lips in sharp, uneven bursts. The way her body tightened and arched against your hand drove you further, your thumb brushing over her clit—first in slow, deliberate circles, then pressing firmly and flicking sharply as her hips jolted against you.

The hand around her neck tightened slightly, your fingers pressing just enough to make her breath catch. The mix of pressure and roughness sent her spiraling, her voice breaking into a low, guttural moan as her eyes fluttered open briefly, wide and glassy, before rolling shut again. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her entire body trembling as your thumb quickened its pace, alternating between firm, relentless circles and sharp, deliberate flicks that made her hips buck wildly.

Her thighs tried to clamp shut around your hand, her body instinctively attempting to shield itself from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t stop. Your pace only grew faster, harder, as though chasing something deeper. Her moans turned into broken cries, her hips jerking helplessly against your hand as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

The slick heat from her folds coated your fingers as her walls tightened around you, her body reacting to every motion. Her breath hitched, her cries becoming louder, more desperate. Her hips jerked erratically, trying to escape your relentless pace, but you didn’t let up. The grip on her neck tightened again, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes snapped open for a moment, unfocused and dazed.

“God—” she managed to choke out, her voice breaking as her body convulsed. “I—can’t—”

Her body tensed beneath your touch, her breathing erratic as she teetered on the edge of release. Just as the moment was about to break, you pulled your fingers out abruptly and delivered a sharp smack to her folds. The sudden sting and shock sent a jolt through her entire body, her back arching violently off the bed as a strangled moan tore from her throat.

That was it. Lia shattered beneath you, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her thighs clamped around your hand, trapping you there as her cries turned raw and broken, each sound carrying the intensity of her release. Her body convulsed, trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. Her hands clutched at the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as her hips jerked uncontrollably, seeking and shying away from the overwhelming sensations.

You held her firmly, your grip on her neck steady, grounding her as your hand returned to her folds. Your fingers worked with deliberate precision, prolonging her climax as her cries grew louder, more desperate. Her hips bucked wildly against your hand, her body writhing beneath you as she gave in completely to the pleasure overtaking her.

Her release seemed endless, the intensity of it leaving her gasping for breath as her body quaked under your control. The room was filled with the sound of her broken moans and the rhythmic slap of your palm against her oversensitive lips. Each touch seemed to reignite the flames, drawing out her pleasure until her body collapsed back against the bed, trembling and spent.

As the aftershocks coursed through her, her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her skin glistened in the dim light, her face flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.

You loosened your grip on her neck, your fingers brushing lightly against her skin as you leaned over her. Lia’s eyes fluttered open slowly, glassy and unfocused, her lips parting in a faint, breathless smile. Her body continued to tremble slightly, the lingering sensations leaving her utterly undone beneath you.

You guided Lia’s trembling, sensitive body onto the bed with deliberate intent, her flushed skin glistening as she struggled to catch her breath. Her wide, dazed eyes met yours, still hazy from the intensity of her previous climax, but you weren’t done—not yet. Slowly, you lay down and pulled her back against you, arranging her pliant body with steady hands.

Her back pressed firmly to your chest, her legs spread wide and bent at the knees, her thighs trembling as you slipped your hands beneath them. Your grip steadied her, your fingers curling securely around the back of her thighs, holding her legs in place and spreading her open. The position left her entirely vulnerable, every inch of her body on display. Her arms rested near her sides, loosely pinned between your bodies, emphasizing her complete surrender to you.

Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her neck fully exposed, giving you an unobstructed view of her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the faint sheen of sweat that glistened on her skin. Lia let out a soft, breathless gasp as the new position registered, her body tensing briefly before relaxing into your hold.

The vulnerability of it, the way your grip anchored her while she was spread open, only seemed to heighten her arousal. “Where did you learn this?…” she murmured, her voice trailing off into a whimper as she felt you press against her entrance. The sensation made her hips shift instinctively, her body eager and trembling as she surrendered completely to the moment.

Without hesitation, you entered her in one deep, deliberate motion. The pace was fast and unrelenting from the start, your thrusts deep and purposeful as you held her firmly in place. Lia cried out, her voice breaking into a desperate moan as her body responded immediately. The position allowed you to reach depths you hadn’t before, and her body clenched tightly around you, the new sensation overwhelming her.

Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as she gave herself over to you completely. The sheer submissiveness of her posture, her willingness to let you take control, drove you on. You leaned down, your lips brushing the curve of her neck as you pressed open-mouthed kisses along her flushed skin, your teeth grazing lightly before biting down just enough to make her gasp.

Lia let out a trembling gasp as your hand found her clit again, circling it with a firm intensity that made her entire body jolt against you. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, her hips writhing in an attempt to escape the relentless stimulation. “Wait—” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she tried to shift away from your touch. “I’m sensitive—too much…”

Her words barely registered, muffled by the storm in your mind. The frustration and anger churned like a relentless tide, the image of her smiling, her hand entwined with someone else’s, replaying in your head like a haunting refrain. It consumed you, fueling the roughness in every movement.

You tightened your hold, your hands locking her helplessly in place. Her legs trembled, trying to close against the overstimulation, but the position left her completely vulnerable. With her legs spread wide and pinned by her own weight, she had no leverage, no way to resist as you drove her higher. Her body squirmed, her hips shifting desperately, but your arm around her wrists and your thighs holding hers apart ensured she couldn’t escape.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to the back of her neck where you could reach, the soft curve of her skin damp with sweat. The kiss was possessive, claiming, and when you bit down, she let out a sharp cry, her body arching against yours. The sting of your teeth sent a fresh wave of shivers through her, her voice breaking into a soft whimper as you soothed the bite with another heated kiss.

Lia’s body trembled, her reactions raw and desperate. Each time you bit down, harder now, her cries grew louder, her head tilting back to expose more of her neck as though surrendering completely. Her thighs tried to press together again, but the position made it impossible, leaving her entirely at your mercy.

Her pleas melted into choked moans when your hand left her clit briefly, only to return with a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, followed by her broken cry as her body jolted against you. The sting sent her closer to the edge, her breath hitching in ragged gasps as her hips jerked involuntarily.

The relentless combination—the deep, fast thrusts, the circling of your fingers on her clit, and the sharp bites you pressed to her shoulder and neck—pushed her further into a haze of overwhelming sensation. Her cries grew louder, her body trembling violently as she fought against the intensity. Even as her hips shifted and tried to twist away, her body betrayed her with every shiver of arousal, her movements weak and yielding to your pace.

Just as her body tensed in anticipation of release, you pressed harder against her clit, your fingers moving in swift, relentless circles. Lia gasped, her walls clenching tightly around you as her entire body strained, her climax teetering on the brink.

When you sensed she was at her limit, you delivered a sharp, deliberate slap to her clit. Lia screamed, her voice raw and broken as her body convulsed violently. The sharp sting mingled with the overwhelming pleasure, the combination tearing through her with a force that left her trembling uncontrollably. Her thighs twitched against your hands, her chest heaving as she sobbed softly, her cries a mix of pleasure and surrender.

You didn’t stop, your fingers continuing to flick and slap her nub while your thrusts maintained their relentless pace. Her body collapsed further against yours, her legs trembling as the overstimulation sent her spiraling beyond her limits. Another broken scream tore from her throat before her body finally gave out, her muscles going slack as she slumped back onto you, her head falling onto your shoulder.

Her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, her body trembling as aftershocks coursed through her. You released her wrists, your hands smoothing over her legs as you pressed soft kisses to her temple and along the marks your teeth had left on her shoulder. Her breathing gradually steadied, her skin still flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.

Your pace didn’t falter, even as Lia slumped further against you, her body trembling and utterly spent. The overstimulation of her climax had left her broken in the best way, her cries now soft whimpers, her breath hot and uneven against your neck. Her legs remained pinned, trembling as your relentless thrusts sent aftershocks rippling through her. Each deep motion made her body react instinctively, her hips twitching as though trying to pull away, but the position left her helpless, completely at your mercy.

As the intensity built, her breaths grew sharper, her head tilting back against your shoulder. The haze of her earlier release lingered in her glassy eyes, her thoughts slow and unfocused. Yet, as your thrusts grew faster and more erratic, realization flickered faintly in her expression. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching against your hold.

“Wait…” she murmured, her voice trembling and breathless, her mind catching up to what her body already knew. “Don’t… don’t cum inside me,” she pleaded, her tone cracking under the weight of her exhaustion and arousal.

Her words were faint, almost drowned out by the rhythmic sound of your hips meeting hers. Her protest lacked strength, her body betraying her as her warmth clenched tightly around you, pulling you deeper with every motion. Even as she tried to speak again, her words dissolved into soft, broken whimpers, her thighs trembling violently as her overstimulated body refused to resist what was coming.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the edge drawing closer with every thrust. Her whispered plea echoed faintly in your mind, but the overwhelming heat, the way she writhed beneath you, the way her body pulled you in, made it impossible to stop. The last thread of your restraint snapped as her walls tightened around you one final time.

“Fuck…” you murmured hoarsely, your voice trembling with the urgency of your release. Her body stiffened briefly, her lips parting in a faint gasp of realization, but she couldn’t move, her legs pinned wide and her body limp in your hold.

With a guttural groan, you pressed as deep as you could, your release surging into her in powerful, shuddering waves. Lia’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers weakly clutching at your arms as she felt the warmth spreading inside her. “Oh my God…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her head fell forward, her body twitching in response to the unfamiliar sensation. The flush on her cheeks deepened, a mix of disbelief and something unspoken as she lay trembling against you.

When the last tremors subsided, you loosened your grip slightly, your hands smoothing over her legs as they remained draped across your hips. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of your mingled breathing, heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

Lia’s voice came out as a whisper, trembling with exhaustion but edged with frustration. “Too much… it was too much…” Her body twitched beneath you, her trembling legs sprawled limply against your hips. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, her gaze hazy but laced with something sharper as she tried to steady herself.

Then her eyes locked onto yours, and the flush on her cheeks deepened, no longer just from exertion. “I can’t believe you came inside me,” she muttered, her voice low but biting. “You know we can’t do that.”

Her words cut through the heavy air, and for a moment, her expression hardened as she tried to assert control over the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you. But the tension in her brows faltered as her body gave a faint, involuntary shudder, the lingering sensation of everything pooling inside her impossible to ignore.

She shifted slightly in your hold, her thighs twitching, her skin hypersensitive and her mind torn between anger and something much more confusing. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, to reprimand you further, but no words came. Instead, she turned her head to the side, her expression tight, though not entirely resolute.

Inside, you could tell she was battling herself. The heat spreading across her neck and cheeks, the way her legs trembled against yours, betrayed a truth she didn’t want to face. Even though she was angry—she had every reason to be—the intensity of what had happened, the rawness of being completely at your mercy, lingered in ways she couldn’t deny.

Lia let out a sharp exhale, her body relaxing slightly against you as her anger seemed to ebb, replaced by a reluctant acceptance. Her head fell back onto the pillow, her breathing still uneven, her lips pressing together in a faint line. The silence between you was heavy, her internal conflict palpable, as the reality of the moment settled over both of you.

Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the air between you was filled with something unspoken, a tenderness that lingered even as exhaustion pulled at you both.

“Jisu,” you said suddenly, the word breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.

She turned onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Can this ever be more?” The question came out unsteady, raw with emotion, as though it had torn its way out of you.

Her smile faded, replaced by something gentler but distant. She sighed softly, the blanket slipping slightly as she shifted to sit up. “We’ve talked about this,” she said, her tone careful but firm. “The reason this works is because it’s casual. It’s… uncomplicated. That’s why it’s good.”

You turned your head to look at her, searching her expression for something—anything—that might suggest she felt the same way you did. But all you saw was a calm resolve. “You’re great,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “You really are. But if we start complicating things, it’ll ruin what we have, could you imagine even trying to do this while one of us has feelings.”

Her words struck you like a punch, each one cutting deeper than the last. You forced a small, hollow smile, nodding as if you understood. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “You’re right…”

Lia’s hand brushed over your arm lightly, reassuringly, before she lay back down beside you, curling into your side as though nothing had happened. But something had. For you, the illusion that this could be enough had shattered, and no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of the end.

As Lia slept peacefully beside you, you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. You couldn’t keep doing this—not when your feelings for her only grew stronger with each passing day, and not when she had made it clear she would never see you the way you saw her.

You slipped out of her bed quietly, careful not to wake her. The city lights outside her window cast long shadows across the room as you let out a soft apology,dressed and left. You told yourself that it would be the last time, that you couldn’t go back—not for her, not for anyone. You needed to find someone who would value you, who would want you the way you wanted them.

-----

The next morning, Lia woke up alone, sunlight filtering softly through her curtains as the warmth of the day began to creep into the room. She stirred slowly, her body aching in unfamiliar ways—her neck, her thighs, her core—all reminders of the intensity of the night before. She shifted slightly, wincing at the tenderness, and as the memories flooded back, her cheeks flushed with heat. The rawness of how you had been with her, the way you had consumed her so completely, lingered in her mind, each thought sending a fresh wave of warmth coursing through her.

Reaching for her phone, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the screen. After a deep breath, she typed a quick message: “Last night was amazing. Thank you.”

She hit send, expecting the usual quick reply. You were always good at responding, rarely making her wait more than a few minutes. It was one of the constants she had come to rely on—your availability, your attentiveness. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her screen remaining frustratingly blank, she shrugged it off. You’re probably just busy, she told herself, though a faint unease began to creep into her thoughts, like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

Life moved forward, as it always did, her schedule swallowing her days whole. But the unease grew, a quiet nagging in the back of her mind that wouldn’t go away. Still no reply. No follow-up. No late-night texts asking about her day or teasing her about something silly. It was unlike you, and with every passing day, it became harder to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Desperate for distraction, she agreed to another date with the idol, convincing herself it was the right thing to do. But from the moment they sat down at the trendy café, everything about the evening felt wrong. The vibrant chatter of the other patrons blurred into background noise, his words barely registering as she stared down at her phone, her thumb hovering over the unanswered message. It sat there, unopened, like a stark reminder of your absence.

He tried to make conversation, asking about her work and cracking lighthearted jokes, but her responses were flat, distracted. Her mind kept drifting—back to you. She could almost hear your laugh, picture the way you would have teased her about spending too much time scrolling on her phone. She thought about the little things you did, the gestures that had woven themselves into her daily life: bringing her food after late practices, the way you always seemed to know when she needed comforting, and the talks that stretched into the early hours of the morning when her world felt too heavy.

Her chest tightened as she realized it wasn’t just about the sex anymore—though that had been incredible. It was everything else, the way you had quietly become her anchor without her noticing. She missed you, in ways that went beyond physical, in ways she couldn’t ignore.

As the date dragged on, her unease grew heavier. She looked at him across the table, saw the effort he was putting into keeping her attention, and felt the guilt creep in. He wasn’t the problem. He was polite, charming even, but he wasn’t you. He didn’t make her feel grounded the way you did. He didn’t know her tells, didn’t know how to navigate her quiet moods or the way her smiles didn’t always reach her eyes.

She excused herself earlier than planned, her heart heavy as she walked out into the cool night air. Her fingers hovered over her phone again, the thought of calling you overwhelming her. But as she stared at your name in her contacts, she couldn’t bring herself to press it. Not yet.

Days turned into a week, and Lia’s desperation grew. Every thought of you tightened the ache in her chest, the longing building until it was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just about the intimacy anymore—it was everything else. The little moments, the times you made her feel understood, cared for, seen. The absence of those moments was suffocating.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside her was shifting. Something she hadn’t wanted to see before but now couldn’t deny. You weren’t just her escape, her comfort—you had become something so much more. Finally, she turned to someone she trusted: Yeji.

The three of you had always been close, bonded not just by your ages but by a shared sense of humor and camaraderie. After practice one evening, Lia found Yeji in the lounge, scrolling through her phone. Her heart pounded as she sat down across from her, working up the courage to speak.

“Yeji,” Lia began, her voice quieter than usual as she fidgeted with the edge of her hoodie.

Yeji glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Lia hesitated, her usual confidence replaced by uncertainty. “You know about… my arrangement, right?”

Yeji set her phone down, her gaze sharpening slightly. “Oh, yeah,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “I know about it.”

Lia’s fingers twisted the fabric of her hoodie, her nerves fraying. “Have you… talked to him lately? Do you know where he is?”

Yeji’s expression softened, the teasing fading as she leaned back against the couch. “Yeah, we’ve talked,” she admitted, her voice even. “But I don’t think I should tell you more than that.”

The words hit Lia harder than she expected. Her stomach twisted, and her voice dropped. “Why not?” she asked, almost pleading. “I just… I miss him. I didn’t think I would, but I do. I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until he wasn’t there anymore.”

Yeji sighed, studying her closely. “Lia, you have to ask yourself why he’s not here right now,” she said, her voice steady but not unkind. “You had to know how he felt—maybe you didn’t want to admit it, but it was obvious.”

Lia looked down, her throat tightening as Yeji’s words sank in. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she murmured. “I just… I didn’t know.”

Yeji leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. “I think he needed space, Lia. He couldn’t keep pretending to be okay with what you two had. And now? I think you’re realizing how much he really means to you.”

Lia’s fingers curled tightly around her hoodie, her heart sinking further. “I miss him,” she said quietly. “Not just… what we had. I miss everything. I don’t know what to do.”

Yeji shook her head gently. “I’m not going to tell you where he is—it wouldn’t be fair. But if you feel this way, you need to figure it out before it’s too late.”

Lia nodded slowly, Yeji’s words settling heavily in her chest. For the next few days, she replayed every moment in her mind—every late-night talk, every thoughtful gesture, every quiet look that made her feel safe. The realization of how much she missed you, how deeply she cared, grew sharper with each passing day.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Lia grabbed her phone with trembling hands and called. The first call went to voicemail, then the next, and the one after that. Still, she didn’t stop. Each unanswered ring only heightened her desperation. She began texting, her messages growing shorter and more frantic with each passing hour.

“I need to talk to you.”“Please, can you call me back?”“Just… say something.”

When the texts went unanswered, she left voicemails, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I… I really want to talk. Please, can we meet? Just let me know.” Every message sounded more raw than the last, the silence on the other end of the line gnawing at her chest like an open wound.

She lost count of how many times she called—her phone logs a mess of missed attempts, her inbox filled with drafts of unsent messages she couldn’t bring herself to delete. Each night, she lay awake, staring at her phone, willing it to light up with your name. The waiting was unbearable, each moment stretching endlessly as hope began to waver.

Just when she was on the verge of giving up, her phone buzzed. Her heart skipped a beat, and she scrambled to pick it up. It was you. A simple message: “Okay. Let’s meet.”

Relief and apprehension washed over her in equal measure. She stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to respond. After a long pause, she simply typed, “Thank you.”

-----

When you finally met, the air was heavy with tension, every unspoken word between you settling like a weight in the small café. Lia sat across from you, her usual poise stripped away. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, twisting the edge of her sleeve, her eyes fixed on the untouched coffee in front of her. The faintest hint of color rose in her cheeks, betraying the vulnerability she was trying to hide.

You watched her carefully, your own nerves coiling tighter with every second of silence. Her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to speak, but the words didn’t come right away. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to hold your gaze. “For everything. For not seeing how you felt, for taking you for granted.”

Her words caught you off guard, the raw honesty cutting through the tension. You blinked, unsure how to respond at first. “I should be the one apologizing,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter than you intended. “For ghosting you, for catching feelings in the first place. I—”

“Don’t,” Lia interrupted gently, her voice firm but laced with regret. Her eyes finally met yours, and the warmth there made your chest ache. “Don’t apologize for liking me. Please. I need to say something first.”

You froze, her words silencing the flood of guilt that had been building inside you. She fidgeted with her sleeve, her gaze flickering downward for a moment before she looked back at you, her expression unguarded.

“I like you,” she said softly, the words landing with a weight that made your breath catch. “So much. I think I have for a while, but I didn’t know… or maybe I just didn’t let myself realize it. I got so comfortable with you always being there, and when you were gone, it felt like a piece of me was missing.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, and her hands stilled as she continued, her voice trembling but resolute. “I thought keeping things casual was easier—safer—because I didn’t want to risk losing you. But I was selfish. I didn’t think about what you needed or how much it might be hurting you.

Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t stop. “I’m so sorry for everything. For not being considerate of your feelings, for pushing you away when you tried to tell me how you felt. You deserved more than that—more than I gave you—and it kills me that I hurt you because I was too scared to be honest.”

Her words tumbled out in a rush, raw and vulnerable. She took another breath, her eyes glistening as she looked at you, waiting. “Do you still…” she began, her voice quieter now, hesitant. “Do you still like me? Because if you do… I promise I’ll be better. I’ll try harder. I won’t take you for granted again.”

The question hung in the air, heavy and trembling with sincerity. You stared at her, the tight ache in your chest threatening to spill over. The vulnerability in her eyes, the way her fingers nervously twisted at her sleeve, the unsteady rise and fall of her breath—it was Lia, stripped of all pretense, offering herself to you in a way she never had before.

“I miss you,” you said, your voice thick with emotion, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “More than I can even say. And yes, Lia, I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening as relief and hope washed over her face. A small, trembling smile broke through her uncertainty, and she reached across the table, her hand brushing yours. You didn’t hesitate, your fingers curling around hers as the tension between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet, tentative warmth.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you heavy but no longer with tension—this time, it was full of possibility. Lia’s fingers tightened slightly around yours, her gaze searching your face as though she was committing this moment to memory. Then, softly, she asked, “Can I… kiss you?”

Her voice was quiet, almost shy, a stark contrast to the confident Lia you had always known. You felt your breath hitch, the question catching you off guard even though you knew the answer. You nodded, unable to form words, and her lips twitched into a faint, nervous smile.

When she leaned forward, the world around you seemed to still. The noise of the café, the clinking of dishes, the hum of conversations—it all faded as her face came closer, her hand still firmly in yours. The first brush of her lips against yours was tentative, testing, but the moment they met, something shifted.

This kiss wasn’t like the others. You’d kissed Lia before—passionate, heated, messy kisses in the haze of your arrangement. But this? This was entirely different. This kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t fueled by lust or need. It was soft, deliberate, full of emotion you hadn’t allowed yourself to name before. It felt like kissing her for the first time, like discovering something new, something sacred.

Her lips were warm and inviting, moving against yours with a tenderness that sent shivers through you. There was no urgency, no pretense, just the quiet connection between you as the kiss deepened, your free hand instinctively reaching up to cradle her cheek. She leaned into your touch, her fingers threading lightly through your hair as she let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing into the moment.

For Lia, the kiss was no less transformative. She’d kissed you countless times before, but this—this felt like peeling away every wall she’d built, every mask she’d worn. This was the kiss she hadn’t let herself imagine, the kiss she hadn’t realized she needed until now. It wasn’t just the physical connection—it was the way your hand trembled slightly as you cupped her cheek, the way you held her like she was the most important thing in the world.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as your eyes met. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed, her gaze full of something you couldn’t quite describe but felt deep in your chest. You could see it reflected back at you: this wasn’t just a kiss. This was everything.

“That…” Lia murmured softly, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words, her fingers brushing against your jaw. “That felt… different.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice low and raw with emotion. “It did.”

Neither of you moved to pull away, the space between you too fragile, too precious to break. For the first time, it felt like you were both on the same page, and the weight of everything that had come before fell away, leaving only the warmth of this moment.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt less heavy, more open—like the air between you had shifted, lighter somehow. You cleared your throat, your fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the table as you searched for the right words, your heartbeat quickening with each passing second. “So, um…” you began, awkwardness thick in your voice as your eyes darted away from hers. “If you’re free later… I mean, after this—if you want, we could, I don’t know, grab dinner or something?”

Lia tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile that widened just enough to let you know she understood exactly what you were trying to say. Her cheeks flushed faintly, the color rising against her soft complexion. “Are you asking me out?” she teased lightly, her tone warm, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you tried to play it cool. “Maybe. I mean… yeah, I guess I am.”

Her smile softened into something more genuine, more tender. “I’d like that,” she said quietly, her voice carrying just the right hint of sincerity to make your chest feel lighter. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

The relief that washed over you was palpable, and without a second thought, you stood, holding out your hand. Lia’s gaze flicked down to your outstretched fingers, hesitation flickering for only a moment before she reached out and took your hand, her fingers curling around yours in a gesture that felt at once familiar and entirely new. Her touch sent a warmth through you, steadying your nerves as the tension between you eased further.

As you walked out of the café together, her hand warm in yours, the world around you seemed to blur into insignificance. The usual noise of the city streets—honking cars, chatter from passersby—faded into the background as the two of you fell into an easy rhythm. Lia’s steps matched yours, her shoulder occasionally brushing against your arm, and every now and then, you glanced at her. Her soft smile, illuminated by the golden glow of the streetlights, carried a quiet promise that made your heart ache in the best way.

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze, testing the waters, and she looked up at you, her eyes bright with a mixture of shyness and excitement. The small action spoke louder than words, her slight squeeze in return confirming what you both already knew: this wasn’t just two friends reconnecting. This was something new, something fragile yet full of possibility.

By the time you reached the restaurant, the hesitation you’d felt earlier had all but melted away. The hum of the city was a distant backdrop as you opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. She smiled, murmuring a quiet “thank you” as she stepped inside, her gaze lingering on yours for just a beat longer than necessary.

Inside, the warm, inviting glow of the restaurant felt like an extension of the moment you were sharing. As you sat down, the conversation flowed more easily, the earlier tension giving way to lighthearted laughter and comfortable silences that spoke of a connection neither of you could deny. And as you watched her, her smile radiant and her eyes sparkling across the table, you knew without a doubt: this wasn’t just a return to what you had before. This was the beginning of something real.

[pucked-bunnie]

family skate ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x reader genre: fluff ⎜romance ⎜ warnings: none! this is just cute and wholesome. synopsis: you haven't been on many dates in your life time - but you definetly haven't been on one quite like this one. word count: 4.5k authors note:  this is a much anticipated and requests part 2 of book club. I hope you all enjoy!! I doubt this will top book club but it's worth a shot

(unedited)

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“Is this date acceptable?” You ask, twirling a little in front of the mirror - trying to get your outfit from every angle. You huff, pushing your hair away from your face as you turn to face your cat currently perched on the edge of your bed. “You are no help.” You pout at him, the cat tilting his head in confusion before jumping off the bed. 

Quinn was going to be at your apartment in less then fifteen minutes and you were still second guessing your outfit. 

The mirror offers no new insights, no reassurance, just the same reflection you’ve been scrutinising for the last twenty minutes. You tug at the hem of your top, debating whether it looks too casual. Then you turn your attention to the necklace—is it too much? Not enough?

“You could at least pretend to care,” you mutter, glancing over at your cat, who’s lounging on the floor besides your bed, casually licking a paw. He pauses to give you an unimpressed look before resuming his grooming routine, as if to say, this is your mess to figure out, not mine.

You sigh dramatically, flopping onto the floor beside him. “You have no idea how hard this is,” you grumble, scratching behind his ears. He leans into your touch for all of three seconds before deciding he’s had enough and saunters off toward the windowsill.

“Traitor,” you call after him, sitting up again. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, and your stomach tightens. A quick glance at the screen tells you Quinn is on his way and will be there in less than ten minutes.

Panic sets in. You shoot to your feet, suddenly hyperaware of every little thing about your outfit that might be wrong. 

The shoes—do they match? 

The colour of your pants—too bright? Not bright enough?

You shake your head, trying to push the doubts away. This is supposed to be fun. It’s just a casual date, not a job interview, you remind yourself. But the butterflies in your stomach refuse to listen.

Your cat lets out a soft meow from his perch, and you look over to find him watching you with a curious tilt of his head. It’s almost as if he’s saying, relax, you’re overthinking this.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, smoothing a hand over your hair. “You don’t have to worry about impressing anyone. You just show up, purr, and everyone loves you.”

The doorbell rings, and your heart leaps into your throat. Okay, showtime. You grab your bag, stealing one last look in the mirror. “Here goes nothing,” you whisper, before heading to the door.

When you open it, there he is—Quinn, with that easy, lopsided smile that makes your heart do somersaults. He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers, looking just as nervous as you feel, and somehow that makes it all a little better.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes lighting up as he looks at you. “You look... wow.”

Your cheeks heat up, and you can’t help but smile. “Thanks. I, uh... wasn’t sure about the outfit.”

“Well, I’m sure,” he replies, holding the flowers out to you. “You look incredible.” You step aside to let him in, the tension in your shoulders melting away. 

“The flowers are stunning.” You say as you round the kitchen counter, quickly reaching for the vase underneath the sink - filling it with fresh water and placing the flowers inside.  

“I remember you mentioning you have a cat and probably spent about two hours checking what was toxic to them.” Quinn says with a nervous laugh, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. 

“So is this ice skating appropriate?” You question gesturing down to your outfit, the simple flared jeans and Canucks blue knitted sweater seeming overly casual the more you look down at it. “Maybe I should change?” You say quickly, Quinns head shaking vigorously as he reaches forwards to grab hold of your hand. 

“As long as you’re warm that’s all that matters.” He says lifting your hand to place a soft kiss against your knuckles before glancing down at his watch. “Besides we have no time.” He almost drags you out of your apartment only pausing to let you lock your front door, before pulling you out to his car - opening the door for you to slide in. 

You settle into the passenger seat, the warmth of Quinn’s earlier gesture still lingering on your skin. The soft scent of his cologne fills the car, and you find yourself relaxing just a little. The tension in your shoulders eases as he jogs around to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the engine.

“You really didn’t have to rush,” you say with a small laugh, buckling your seatbelt. “We could’ve been a few minutes late.” He grins as he pulls out onto the street. “Not on my watch. First impressions matter. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t stick to a plan.”

“First impressions?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “I think we’re a little past that.”

“First official date impressions,” he counters smoothly, shooting you a quick glance before focusing back on the road. “Totally different thing. Higher stakes.”

You smile, his playful energy easing the last of your nerves. The city lights blur past as the car glides down the road, and you steal a glance at him—his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a way that feels impossibly genuine.

The car hums softly as Quinn pulls into the lot underneath the Rogers Arena when the thought hits you this wasn’t just a casual skate. It was the family skate, surrounded by Quinn’s teammates, their families, and probably more cameras than you cared to think about. Quinn parks and turns to you, his signature lopsided smile breaking through any lingering nerves. 

“Ready?” he asks, though his voice carries a hint of uncertainty.

You let out a soft breath, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Are you ready? Don’t think I’m going easy on you just because this is your turf.”

His laugh is soft, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’d be offended if you did.”

He hops out of the car, grabbing the a bag from the trunk as you step out into the cool air outside the car. The sound of blaring music muffled by the stone walls of the building making you buzz with excitement. Quinn holds his hand out towards you, waiting patiently as you look down at it and then back up at him. He nods towards it once, a smiling breaking out on his face as you slide your hand into his. 

You’d held hands with Quinn before, most times without even thinking about it, but this time for some reason felt different. Quinns hand was warm against yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulls you closer to his side, nodding a quick hello to the security guard at the entrance. 

“Quinn do people know about me?” You ask softly, as the thought hits you. “I kind of feel like I’m intruding.” You whisper as you follow him down the hallways, the music getting louder the close you get to the ice. 

Quinn slows his steps, turning to face you with a reassuring smile. “They know about you,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Not everything—but enough to know you’re important to me.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, but you still hesitate, glancing down the hallway toward the growing buzz of voices and music. “Important enough to bring me to this?”

He grins, leaning closer so only you can hear. “Important enough that I want you to see this part of my world. And… well, if I’m being honest, I think they’ll love you.” You balk at his words, a little Quinn quickly adding, “But watch out for Elias, he’s way too excited to meet you.” You nod your head. 

Quinn had talked about Elias Pettersson - his best friend - several times when you have spent time together in the store. Explained how despite Elias always wanting the best for him, the swede couldn’t help but mess with his captain whenever present with an opportunity. 

You raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Even if I wipe out on the ice in front of all of them?” You say, suddenly second guessing all of your athletic abilities. 

Quinn chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. “Especially then. They’ll think you’re just like me.”

That earns a laugh from you, easing some of the tension in your chest. “You’re really not worried about that?”

“Not even a little,” he says confidently, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Besides, I’ll be right there to catch you. The thought of falling doesn’t seem so bad when he says it like that. Taking a deep breath, you nod, letting his calm confidence steady you. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

With your hand still in his, he leads you into the rink. The air is colder, sharper, and the arena is alive with activity—kids darting across the ice, laughter echoing off the walls, and players chatting with their families near the benches.

As you step closer to the boards, you notice a few of the players turning to look your way. Some of the guys offer warm smiles, a few nodding in greeting, most looking between you and their captain in astonishment. 

“A lot of them thought I was bluffing.” He whispers to you as he reaches to grab a pair of skates from the bag he’s carrying and hands them to you. “Think you can handle these?” He questions, showing you the tan coloured Bauer hockey skates - the fleece lining already calling your name. 

“Quinn these are like three hundred dollars.” You hiss under your breath, leaning forwards to make sure no one else can hear you. Quinn shrugs, leading you over to the bench motioning for you to sit down. 

“Consider it payment for being willing to go on a date with me.” He says softly, dropping one skate on the bench besides you before fiddling with the one still in his hands. Quinn loosens the laces on the skate, adjusting it until it’s ready to slip on your foot. “Shoes off.” He says quickly, leaving no time for you to argue, as you toe your sneakers off and slip them under the bench. 

Quinn bends a little, helping you slip your foot into the skate before lifting your leg till your foot sits comfortably between his two thighs, his hands making quick work of fitting the skate to your foot. “Let me know if it’s too tight.” He says softly, his brows furrowed in concentration as he pulls each lace tight, one by one. He asks you to wiggle your toes, making sure the fit is comfortable before gently dropping your foot to the ground and repeating the process with your other skate. 

You watch Quinn as he works, his movements careful and deliberate, his hands steady as they tug at the laces. His focus is so intense that you almost forget where you are, the buzz of the rink fading into the background for a moment.

"You're really good at this," you say, breaking the silence.

He glances up, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Well, I've had some practice."

"Yeah, but still," you tease. "This is next-level service. I feel spoiled."

He chuckles, finishing the second skate and giving your knee a playful pat. "You're supposed to feel spoiled. That's the point."

Your cheeks warm at his words, and you’re grateful for the excuse to look away as you flex your feet in the skates, testing the fit. "These feel amazing," you admit.

"Good," he says, standing up and offering you his hand. "Now let's see if you can stay on your feet."

You laugh but take his hand, letting him help you up. The skates feel sturdy, even though it takes a moment to adjust to the feeling on walking on the blades, Quinn keeping his hands ready as he follows behind you. 

“Your lack of trust in my ability is astounding.” You call, as you step up to the open door on the bench, bracing both hands on the sides as you finally step onto the ice. The chill hits you immediately, sharper and more invigorating than you remember, the surface is smooth and gleaming, and your skates slide easily, almost too easily as your body gets back into the routine of skating. 

"Okay, this is a little harder than I remember," you admit as you wobble slightly. Quinn grins, skating backward in front of you, his hands reaching out to grab hold of yours. 

"You're doing fine. Just trust your feet." He says, thankful for his assistance as you remind yourself to keep your knees bent. 

You glance down at the ice, then back up at him. "Easy for you to say, Mr. NHL Star." You laugh, panicking as he moves to pull his hands from yours. “Don’t you dare.” You hiss, Quinn let out a bark of laughter as he pulls you closer to the centre of the rink. 

With his steady guidance, you feel your confidence grow, giving him a quick nod as he slowly releases your hands you body finally remembering how to skate confidently as Quinn sidles up besides you, his smile infectious as you make your way around the rink comfortably. 

"You’re a natural," Quinn says after a while, his voice warm with encouragement.

“I told you I knew how to skate,” you reply, but you can’t help smiling, “with maybe a bit of a rocky start.” 

"Maybe a little," he admits with a wink. "But you’re doing great."

As you glide along the boards, a few of Quinn’s teammates skate by, some offering waves or teasing remarks. One of them—a tall guy with a mischievous grin—calls out, "Quinn’s got his hands full tonight!"

"Jealous, Petey?" Quinn shoots back, his tone lighthearted.

The guy—Petey—grins. "Always, Hughesy. Always." Quinn’s teammate circles around once before making his way back to you and Quinn, slipping himself between you and your date with a cheeky smile, shooting his captain a wink before linking his arm with yours. “I need to borrow her for a minute.” He says, Quinn opening his mouth to complain but you’re already being dragged away from him. 

You’re whisked away before you can even process what’s happening, your skates gliding awkwardly as Petey pulls you along. You glance over your shoulder at Quinn, who shakes his head with an amused smile, clearly letting Petey have his moment.

“Sorry about Hughesy,” Petey says, steering you toward a quieter corner of the rink where a few other players are gathered. “He’s not usually this good at showing off.”

“Showing off?” you ask, your voice tinged with playful skepticism.

Petey smirks. “Oh, yeah. Trust me, this is peak ‘look at me, I have a girlfriend’ energy.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling a little of the lingering tension ease. “I wouldn’t say he’s showing off. He’s just…” You hesitate, searching for the right word.

“Obsessed?” Petey supplies, his grin widening. “It’s cute, don’t worry. We’re all rooting for him.” Before you can respond, another player skates over, clapping Petey on the shoulder. “Stop scaring her, man. She just got here.”

“Am I scaring you?” Petey asks dramatically, placing a hand over his heart like he’s offended.

“Not at all,” you reply, unable to suppress a grin. “You’re more… enthusiastic.”

The second guy laughs. “Come on, man, let her get back to Quinn before he skates over here and kicks you in the ankles.”

Petey sighs theatrically, releasing your arm. “Fine. But only because I’m nice.” He pauses, looking you over with an approving nod. “You’re good for him. Don’t let him mess this up.”

“I’ll do my best,” you promise, chuckling as Petey skates off with his friend.

When you return to Quinn, he’s standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I can’t leave you alone for five seconds, can I?”

You shrug, your grin wide. “Your teammates are… lively.”

“Yeah, they’re something,” he says, rolling his eyes fondly. “What did Petey say?”

“Nothing you need to know.”

“Great you’ve already got secrets with my friends.” Quinn groans, “It wasn’t anything bad was it?” 

“I’m just glad you think I’m worth showing off for.” You tease, watching as Quinn spin shooting a glare at his friend who is already laughing as he skates to the bench. You laugh with Petey, slipping your arm through Quinn’s. “Don’t worry, I think it’s cute.” You say, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

His cheeks flush slightly. “Glad to hear it. Now, ready to show these guys you can out-skate them?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, feigning confidence. Quinn grins, pulling you back toward the centre of the ice. “That’s the spirit.”

As the evening goes on, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The gentle guidance of Quinn’s hand, the light teasing from his teammates, and the vibrant energy of the rink all blend together into something that feels magical.

When you finally step off the ice, your cheeks are pink from the cold and laughter, your legs pleasantly tired. Quinn helps you sit back on the bench and starts unlacing your skates with the same careful attention he’d shown earlier.

“Thank you,” you say softly, watching him work.

He looks up, his expression warm. “For what?”

“For bringing me here. For letting me be a part of this.”

Quinn’s smile deepens, and he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.” Your heart swells at his words, and as he finishes with your skates and helps you into your shoes, he makes quick work of pulling off his own skates, slipping on his sneakers as he pulls you up from the bench with him. 

As you rise, Quinn keeps your hand firmly in his, leading you out of the rink. The arena is quieter now, the echoes of laughter and skates on ice fading as families and players begin to trickle out. The cold air nips at your face as you step into the hallway, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth still lingering from Quinn’s words.

“So,” he says as you walk side by side, his voice soft, “what’s the verdict? Best date ever, or are you just being polite?”

You chuckle, giving his hand a playful squeeze. “It’s definitely up there. Though, I feel like there’s some bias—being surrounded by professional skaters might give the date an unfair edge.”

Quinn grins, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “I’ll take that as a win.”

As you approach the exit, a few of his teammates call out their goodbyes, and you wave shyly, still getting used to the attention. One of them jokes, “Don’t let him scare you off, okay?”

Quinn groans, shaking his head. “I’m never bringing you around these guys again.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like seeing you in your element.”

“Yeah?” he asks, glancing over at you, his expression softening.

“Yeah,” you reply, your smile matching his. “You seem… happy. Comfortable.”

“I am,” he says, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that makes your stomach flutter. “More than I have been in a while.” As you reach his car, he opens the passenger door for you, and you slide in, the warmth of the vehicle a welcome contrast to the crisp night air. Quinn joins you a moment later, turning on the heat before glancing over at you.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Starving,” you admit.

“Good,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot. “Because I know a place.”

The drive is quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that feels natural rather than forced. The city lights blur past the window, and you find yourself stealing glances at Quinn, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard.

When he pulls up to a small, cozy diner, you smile. “This is the place?”

He nods. “Best milkshakes in the city. Trust me.” You follow him inside, the warmth and smell of comfort food wrapping around you like a hug. As you slide into the booth across from him, you can’t help but think that this night, with its mix of nerves, laughter, and quiet moments, has been just about perfect. 

Quinn leans back against the booth, his eyes scanning the menu even though it seems like he already knows what he wants. He glances up at you with a smirk, catching you mid-gaze as you try to take in every little detail of him—how the corners of his mouth curl up slightly when he’s relaxed, the way his fingers drum lightly against the table.

“Caught you,” he teases, his voice low but warm.

Your cheeks heat up as you quickly pick up your own menu. “Just deciding what to order,” you reply, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He chuckles softly, clearly not buying it but letting it slide. “Well, if you trust me, I’d say go with the chocolate peanut butter shake. It’s a classic.”

“Noted,” you say, still scanning the menu. “And what are you getting?”

“Same,” he says, setting the menu down confidently. “And the fries here? Unreal. We have to share.”

You laugh, finally closing your menu. “Fine, but only if I get to steal more than half.”

“Deal,” he says with a grin. The server comes by, taking your orders with a friendly smile, and as soon as they leave, Quinn rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly. His eyes, even under the warm diner lights, hold a softness that makes your stomach flip.

“So,” he says, his tone teasing, “what’s the verdict on skating with a bunch of NHL players? Intimidating or not so bad?” You think for a moment, tapping your fingers lightly against the edge of the table. 

“Not so bad,” you admit. “But I think I was more worried about falling and making a fool of myself than anything else.”

Quinn’s smile widens. “You handled it like a pro. Way better than I did my first time skating with those guys.”

“Wait, are you telling me you’ve fallen on the ice in front of your teammates before?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up in mock disbelief.

“Not just fallen,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve wiped out. Full-on face-plant. And they will never let me live it down.”The image of Quinn sprawled out on the ice has you laughing so hard your sides ache. 

“You? The guy who skates backward without even trying? I need to see proof.”

“Oh, there’s proof,” he groans, shaking his head. “But you’re not getting your hands on it.”

You narrow your eyes at him, pretending to think. “We’ll see about that.”

The conversation flows easily, a mix of playful banter and genuine moments, and by the time your milkshakes and fries arrive, it feels like no time has passed at all. Quinn slides the basket of fries toward you first, motioning for you to take the first bite.

“Okay, you hyped these up,” you say, picking one up and dipping it into the side of ketchup. “They’d better be amazing.”

You take a bite, and your eyes widen in surprise. “Okay, wow. These are ridiculous.”

“Told you,” he says smugly, grabbing a fry of his own. “Now you see why I keep coming back here.” The two of you fall into a rhythm—sharing fries, sipping milkshakes, and trading stories about everything and nothing. It’s easy, comfortable, like you’ve been doing this for years instead of just one night. At one point, Quinn tells you about a prank his teammates pulled involving a lost skate blade and a bucket of confetti, and you laugh so hard you almost choke on your milkshake.

When the food is gone and the server drops off the check, Quinn is quick to grab it, waving off your protest before you can even get a word out.

“You can get the next one,” he says with a grin, slipping his card into the little black folder. “If I let you win.”

“Oh, you’re planning on more dates?” you tease, though your heart skips at the implication.

He leans forward slightly, his expression playful but earnest. “Absolutely.”

The drive back to your apartment is quieter but no less comfortable, the kind of silence that feels natural, like neither of you needs to fill it with words. When Quinn pulls up outside your building, he hops out quickly, coming around to open your door for you.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you tease, stepping out.

“Not on my watch,” he replies with a wink.

The cold night air greets you as you step outside. Snowflakes drift lazily down, dusting the cars and sidewalks with a fresh layer of white. Quinn pauses, looking up at the sky.

“Perfect end to the night,” he says, his breath visible in the chill.

You tilt your head back, letting the snowflakes land on your face. “It really is.”

Quinn watches you for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then, without warning, he scoops up a handful of snow, quickly packing it into a loose ball.

“What are you—” you start, but before you can finish, he gently taps the snowball against your shoulder, laughing.

“Oh, you’re asking for it,” you say, bending down to gather your own snow.

What follows is a brief but spirited snowball fight, laughter ringing out into the quiet night. Quinn, as it turns out, is both fast and surprisingly accurate, though he’s careful not to pelt you too hard. You manage to land a shot right on his chest, and his mock-offended expression is priceless. Finally, breathless and grinning, you both call a truce. Quinn brushes the snow off his jacket, his cheeks pink from the cold.

“You’re pretty competitive,” he says, his eyes twinkling.

“You bring it out of me,” you reply with a shrug, still smiling.

You both linger in the snow, his soft brown curls slowly becoming more decorated with the dropping snowflakes, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. With the snow falling softly and the world feels impossibly still. Quinn looks down at you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression softer now.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He steps closer, his breath visible in the cold. “No, thank you. For saying yes.”

For a moment, it feels like the world stops entirely. Then, Quinn reaches up, brushing a snowflake off your cheek before letting his hand linger, his thumb grazing your skin gently. Your breath catches, and before you can think, he’s leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s as soft and warm as the snow falling around you, his hands latching onto your sweater to pull you closer.

When he pulls back, his eyes search yours, his voice quiet. “Can I see you again?” 

You smile, your cheeks flushing, but this time it’s not from the cold. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’d like that.”

[crashandlivewrites]

Bathroom Habits with the 141 Boys

These were random thoughts that I had so I wanted to make it a thing with some input from @soapsgf

TF141 x GN!Reader

CW: it gets mildly steamy in a couple of them, but relatively domestic otherwise

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Chronic shower sharer. If you’re showering, he’s showering. Just enjoys spending the time with you

Hogs the water and adjusts the temperature for his liking, even if you got in there first

Washes your hair and body tenderly, massaging you gently with your favourite soaps and presses soft kisses to your shoulders as the water rinses your skin

Always comments on the smell of everything and tells you his favourites so you buy them again. Also takes into consideration the smells you like best on him

Loves when you return the favour and wash him. He’s a glutton for being pampered

Avid skin-care enthusiast. You don’t get skin that pretty without some TLC. Definitely takes sunscreen away with him

If you’re into skin-care as well, he enjoys doing it together (read: he enjoys lying in your lap and having you take care of his skin for him. Don’t worry, he’ll return the favour)

Does enjoy a cheeky swipe of moisturiser on your face when you’re not paying attention then bolts out of the room before you can retaliate

He’s also a neat man, meticulously laying out your bathroom bench or shelves with products so they’re easy to grab

Enjoys having his face mostly clean shaven when he’s home, but goes to a barber more often than doing it himself

Pushes the toothpaste from the bottom, making it easy to get most of it out

John Price

Not really a fan of sharing showers but enjoys sharing the bathroom at the same time

He likes doing his beard routine/ casual trims if you’re in the shower and vice versa for your small daily tasks whether it be hair or skin care

However, if you are looking to have a bath and you have one big enough to hold you both? You can be damn sure he’s joining you

Also makes it a big deal when he’s back. There’s candles, drinks, bath salts, and a movie playing in the background as you relax, back against his chest

Cannot keep his hands to himself. As you’re paying attention to the movie, his hands are gliding down your sides and over your thighs

Tells you to keep focusing on the movie if you start squirming too much before doubling down

Not big on skin care, but has a beard care range. Thoroughly enjoys spending his time re-shaping his beard especially after coming back, then having you keep up the smaller trims here and there

Does let you put moisturiser and sunscreen on his face but that’s it

Enjoys brushing, stroking, and/ or braiding your hair as you brush your teeth

Sits on the toilet for an hour despite knowing it’s bad for his bowel health

Clenches the middle of the toothpaste tube initially, but does push it up from the bottom when it gets low

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Gremlin in the bathroom. Invades your space. Like Kyle; if you’re showering, he’s showering even if he’s already washed himself for the day

Unapologetically pees in the shower and on you if you’re not careful

Enjoys washing you. Or rather, your chest. Loves soapy nipples. It’s the cleanest part of your body

Also abuses your body with the detachable shower head, holding it between your legs as he pins you to the wall, making you whine

Encourages you to wash him too, trapping your wrists and running your hands over his body suggestively

Can’t have a minute alone with this man. Always has something to talk to you about or show you so there’s no point closing the door

Washes his face with water; bar soap if he’s particularly dirty. We all know he’s a 3 in 1 user

Skin is crusty when he comes back from missions but sits pretty for you if you want to put moisturiser on his face (read: you’ll have to sit on his chest and pin him down but he likes it)

Also another one to spend an hour on the toilet but doesn’t think it’s an issue. Wants you to sit in there with him (no thanks)

Adores it when you shave his mohawk for him. Pretends he can’t do it himself if you’re around. Loves the way your eyes squint in concentration and move his head around forcefully, barking orders at him to sit still

Squeezes the toothpaste right at the top, doesn’t close the lid and leaves it in the sink

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Like Price, also not a shower sharer fan, especially early on in the relationship

The size of him is the main reason, but also wary of making you anxious about his heavily scarred body

No preference of soap or shampoo, probably whatever he’s stolen from base. Also doesn’t use conditioner

Doesn’t mind sharing the bathroom with you though once he gets comfortable, if you happen to be in there at the same time

If you’re having a bath, he won’t join you in the bath, but rather sit next to it on a stool either silently or having quiet conversations with you

Does love washing your hair as he enjoys the way you moan softly at the feeling of his strong hands pressing into your scalp

Always takes deep breaths of your hair and skin when it’s clean, committing the smell to memory

He wears a mask most of the time. He has acne because he doesn’t really wash it, especially on deployment

Doesn’t really care about treating it, but sits for you if you express an interest in taking care of it for him. He won’t admit it, but he is also a glutton for being pampered

Tries to remember what you’ve told him but forgets when he’s away. Sometimes he remembers moisturiser and sunscreen, but it’s a bit hit and miss

Toothpaste looks like he’s had it for years. All shrivelled, cut open, and squeezed to high hell in order to get every bit out

Thank you for reading!! If you have any requests for hc’s, don’t be afraid to send them through!