#i love anything that lets me talk about music ^-^

[defmaybe]

last night's mascara

12 Days of Christmas: Day 11, January 4th, 2025

Dreamcatcher’s Lee Gahyun x Male Reader

3.1k words

Christmas Masterlist

What a boring ass party.

It’s the thought that has been lingering inside your head for the last two hours. The decorations? Daft. The song choice? Lame. The conversations? Rote. So, there you are, one hand on your phone, the other fiddling with your fingers restlessly. Should’ve bought Balatro when it was on sale.

You scroll your Twitter feed aimlessly, pressing likes on the fan sites’ pictures of your favorite groups—fromis_9, Red Velvet, (G)I-DLE. It’s the only way to escape this party without raising much suspicion.

Well, not until Gahyun notices you standing in the corner of your eyes.

“Not enjoying it?”

You almost drop your phone on the ground, good thing you can balance it with your hands.

“Shit, y–yeah,” you reply.

Gahyun giggles softly, covering her mouth with the glass of champagne in her hand. She’s in her red and white Christmas dress, one that shows off a lot—her shoulders, her legs, her ample cleavage. Fuck, she looks so tantalizing.

“So,” she says. She’s pulling you into a conversation. Abort. Abort. Abort!

“How was your day?” she asks, “Wait, oh my god, that was a terrible question. I’m sorry if it’s too plain for you.”

It’s over for you.

“No, no, it was–great. I’m fine,” you reply. “How are you?”

Gahyun chuckles. “A bit drunk, but still standing!” she says with a bright smile, twisting her foot coyly. God, she looks gorgeous.

You only shoot a smile back at her. You don’t know what more to say. It’s difficult for you to continue the conversation like this. You can’t do this.

“Hey,” she continues. You’re finished. “I can keep you company here if you want.”

She’s kind, but you’ll have to say no. You aren’t good enough to hold her right here. You don’t have anything to talk about!

“Ah, I–I appreciate that, but I don’t think you’d enjoy my company,” you decline, taking a sip of the champagne in your hand.

She giggles, and you fall victim to your own self-deprecation once again. You just can’t stop pushing people out, can you?

Fuck.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, come on!” she encourages. You’re taken aback by her enthusiasm to be with you. Is she really enjoying your company? Is it a dare? Is she just toying with you for her own entertainment?

“O–Okay, Gahyun,” you stammer.

The conversation begins at the expense of your solitude. It’s seemingly unending. You’re involuntarily dragged into an exchange with the talkative Lee Gahyun. However, you’re slowly dragged into her charismatic presence. You’re somehow not stuttering anymore? Goodness gracious! She’s a good talker. She’s a good listener. She’s genuinely comforting to be around.

“So–speaking of music, have you been listening to anyone recently? Well, outside of k-pop, it’ll be too boring,” Gahyun asks.

You contemplate a bit before you answer, “Well, I’ve been listening to Gracie Abrams a lot lately. Do you know her?”

“Gracie Abrams–hmm–is she the one who opened for Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah!” you happily answer. She’s really full of knowledge. “I started listening to her a few years ago. Quality can be choppy sometimes, but I still like her a lot.”

“I’m sure she’s great,” she says with a giggle. “That’s why you’re drawn to her.”

You can only chuckle at her warm words. God, she really knows how to reel you in. 

“What about you? Who have you been listening to?” you ask her the same question back. Normally, you’d be beating yourself up for not changing the question, but with Gahyun, it feels like you don’t have to worry about anything.

Gahyun laughs, cutely covering her mouth while doing so. “Well, mostly Billie Eilish, her new album. Have you heard it yet?”

“Oh, yeah! I love Birds of a Feather a lot. Wait, let me guess yours–uh–” you pause, trying to guess her favorite from the album.

Gahyun adoringly smiles, waiting for your guess. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the light, but, fuck, are you having a crush on her?

“Chihiro?”

“Aww~ that’s close! It’s actually my second favorite,” Gahyun says, pouting cutely. You can only awkwardly giggle along to cover the embarrassment from the mistake.

“I actually love Lunch the most, to be honest,” she says. “Makes me click my heels, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean–I also like Lunch, but–uh–it’s just not as sad as Birds of a Feather.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s definitely interesting!” Gahyun says. “So, you like sad songs? Do you like–uh–have any to recommend to me?”

You give her a few songs. She nods in acknowledgement. The exchange continues into the night. It flows so lively that you get lost in her charm, over and over again. You find out about her dog at home—Bae. You find out that she loves pineapples on pizzas. You find out that her favorite TV show is Goblin (yes, that Goblin).

As it goes on, you can’t help but steal glances at her body, even if you know how inappropriate that is. You’ll use the opportunity when she looks away to take in the view of her ample cleavage or her meaty thighs. She looks so good, so deli–

“Hey,” she derails your train of thoughts. “Did you just–stare at my tits?”

Your eyes widen in shock. You didn’t realize that you’ve been looking at her for a little too long. Your hands tremble in fear of getting called out. You should say sorry, now!

“F–Fuck, I–I’m so s–sorry, Gah–”

“Zip it,” she cuts you off, putting her index finger on your lips. “I don’t want excuses.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. You’re being mentally cornered by Lee Gahyun, the company darling. God, you’re beyond fucked. Your whole life is being undone because of a slip. Fuck.

Then, she whispers into your ear.

“Meet me at the women’s bathroom in five minutes.”

You nod with your eyes closed slowly, before she departs from you, giving you the view of her hips swaying before disappearing into the crowd.

—

The women’s bathroom smells of air purifier, it’s taken care of well. It’s brightly lit. You find Gahyun standing in the middle of the room—arms crossed, tapping her foot. She’s waiting for you.

“Come here, lock the door,” she orders, gesturing you to her. Her voice is much, much more stern than in the ballroom, but there’s also–something else. Is she mad at you, or is it something else?

The door clicks shut, leaving the bathroom only for you two. You slowly walk towards Gahyun, who’s looking at you expectantly.

The air thickens with anticipation. The silence is heavy. You’re stuck in the bathroom with Lee Gahyun. She doesn’t seem too pleased with your presence here, but why would she be calling you here, then?

“So,” she starts. You close your eyes shut in fear. “Anything to say before we start?”

You shake your head vigorously, hoping that the admission would lessen the punishment directed at you.

You hear a wicked laugh, as she starts to circle around you. Your body trembles in fear. Fuck, what is she going to do with you. Is she going to beat you up? Is she going to berate you?

“Are you sure that you’ve locked the door?” she asks from behind you. You can feel her breath on your neck. It’s terrifying.

“Y–Yes, Gahyun,” you stammer out.

“Good. Now, take off your pants,” she orders sternly. Wait, this isn’t going where you’ve expected.

“Wait, do you want me to–”

“Take off your pants, yes,” she finishes your sentence without any hesitation. Determination shines in her eyes.

“O–Okay?” you utter, before reluctantly unbuckling your belt. It’s so hard to come off when your hands are literally shaking like this. Your breathing becomes erratic with each second that passes by.

“Faster,” she sternly commands into your ear. Her warm breath touches your skin, eliciting goosebumps everywhere. Your hands quickly take off your trousers as she orders, leaving your lower body in your boxers. The outline of your erection becomes visible under them.

“Good,” she says, the warmth of your hand emanating into your firm ass. “Now, if you’d show me what you’ve been hiding under this–garment.

You immediately comply with her order, sliding down your tight boxers in a hasty motion. Your hard cock springs free from its confinement. It twitches in the anticipation of what’s to come. Gahyun presses into your body from the back, making your ass touch her warm crotch. Her perfume pervades your nostrils, making your legs wobble like jelly.

“Hmm, excited, aren’t we?” she coos. Her right hand reaches from the back to tease you. She leaves just a little space between her hand and your cock. You wish you could just grab her hand and make her touch your hardness right now, but that’s not how you play this game. You can only wonder how Gahyun can hide this side for so long—the side that dominates the shit out of you.

“Do you want me to touch it? Say it.” Her hot breath brushes against your ear, teasing you, pushing you towards the limit.

“Y–Yes, I want you to touch it, Gahyun,” you utter, mind going all haywire from the sheer intensity of her body warmth against your back.

You hear Gahyun giggle mischievously from the back, before her hand latches onto your cock firmly, making you groan in sheer ecstasy.

Slowly, she begins her dirty display on your cock. She lazily drags her hand up along your length, eliciting a shudder from you. When she’s at the top, she makes sure to take a swipe on the tip to make you moan. Your brain is now filled with nothing but her otherworldly handjob she’s giving. She feels so good.

You moan and whimper in her tight restraint, naked from below the waist. Her hands are slowly jerking you off with an unmatched mastery. Her smell is intense—her perfume, and something that’s explicitly her.

She slowly finds her rhythm, knowing when to pump, knowing when to swipe. She goes faster, eliciting guttural groans and whimpers out of you. 

Your cock is being fondled by the company darling, and that thought alone sends you into rapture. She’s the same woman you see every day. She’s the same woman you’ve talked to. She’s the same woman who everyone loves. Now, she’s jerking you off in the women’s bathroom, making you moan and whimper.

Maybe it’s the sheer intensity of the situation, you can feel your loins tightening. Your body becomes rigid. Your breathing becomes erratic. You’re going to cum in Lee Gahyun’s hand!

“You know, I’ve been told a lot that I have nice lips,” she says. Her hands remain a little too eager to finish you off. It’s becoming too irresistible to cum right now. You can feel the tension rising within your loins. You do want more than her hand, indeed. That pair of lips are a little too tantalizing for you to not be on your cock—so plump, so pouty.

“F–Fuck, Gahyun, I–I’m gonna cum,” you utter. Time is running low, and you have to make her stop before you blow a load all over the bathroom floor and get short-circuited for the rest of the night.

Gahyun lets out another wicked giggle. “Say please, then.” She’s not going to stop so easily, not before you profusely beg her to.

“Nghhn~ p–please, Gahyun,” you plead, voice already shaking in the intense sensation.

“Again, and I’ll lift my hand off,” she teases, jerking you off even faster. Your mind is all hazy from the sheer pleasure you’re getting from her hand. Your blinking becomes rapid. Your vision becomes blurry.

“Nghh~ please, G–Gahyun.”

Gahyun suddenly removes her hand from your cock, leaving it twitching in the air. You sigh, as the tension slowly drops back to normal. You’re happy not to cum before you get to take on her mouth.

“Close one,” she says, letting go of you from her warm embrace. You feel like you can fully breathe for the first time in years. She was suffocating, but you won’t deny the pleasure she gave you, of course.

Gahyun slowly walks back to your front, putting the highlight of her next act for you to see—her lips, those dick-sucking lips. You and the guys have talked about this behind her back (well, behind everyone’s back) about how good her lips would feel on your cocks, head bobbing up and down in a hypnotic motion, bringing intense pleasure to whoever gets their dick sucked. 

Now, it’s your turn.

Gahyun kneels, not without seductively swaying her wide hips as she goes down. Your cock twitches at the sight violently, so ready to be taken into her mouth.

“Say please, just like when I jerked you off,” she commands. She seems to know when to raise her voice and when to not.

“Please, Gahyun,” you utter, your voice all dry from the moaning and the internally burning desire.

The first contact is nothing short of divine. Gahyun starts slow. She starts by taking in just the mushroom tip into her mouth. She feels so warm, so tight, so right. Gahyun gives the underside of your cock a playful lick, making your body jolt in response.

She then begins her show, pushing herself further on your cock. It’s a lewd sight, really—the direct eye contact, the sound she’s making (it’s kind of a low, satisfied hum), the way she fondles your balls with her fingers. Pleasure just shoots through your body like a bullet. Without any restraints, you could just cum into her mouth right here and now. She pushes further and further, making you groan in pure bliss, until she starts to gag.

“Y–You don’t have to take it all, G–Gahyun.”

She says nothing, instead diving deeper onto your cock, all while using her tongue to play with the underside of your length. No woman has ever given you a blowjob as good as this—the deliberate movement, the will to gag, the pouty lips. Gahyun really has it all.

She keeps the eye contact intact, a reminder of her control. The gagging sounds she’s making don’t hinder her dominance by a little bit. She lets you know who’s in control here. It’s her and only her.

She finally pushes herself up to the hilt of your cock. She gags. She chokes. She sputters. Globs of spit leaks out of her mouth. Your head falls backwards from the pleasure. Her eyes are barely opening from the sheer size of your cock. You love this. You love the sounds she’s making. You love how she dominates the shit out of you. You love that she’s willing to suck you off like this (even if she’s the one in full control).

She stays there, gagging, choking, sputtering on your cock. She’s taking in the pungent scent of you, judging by the way she takes a deep breath through her nose. Her lips look so good on your cock like this. The base of your length becomes saturated by her red lipstick and spit. Streaks of black mascara run down her cheeks. You’re revelling in it. You’re revelling in the sight.

“G–God, G–Gahyun,” you utter.

With that, she slowly pulls back from your cock, leaving a trail of her rosy lipstick on it. Her eyes are fluttering violently with the thickness and length of you. She can barely breathe, and you’re loving it.

Instinctively, your right hand goes to the back of her head, tugging her hair to pull her out of the predicament called your cock. She gets to breathe again, and she quickly dislodges herself off you.

“Ah, y–you taste good,” she says, still trying to catch her breath. The marks from the earlier act are evident.

You say nothing, letting Gahyun catch her breath again, waiting for the time she can take in your cock once more. She breathes in, she breathes out, and finally, she’s ready again.

“I’m not holding back this time, alright?” she says, determination sparks inside her eyes.

“S–Sure.”

She grabs onto your cock with her right hand, pulling you close, before she takes your cock into her mouth. This time, it’s more violent, more fervent. She catches her rhythm and doesn’t look back. She starts to bob her head back and forth on your cock, and doesn’t that make you whimper like a bitch?

“Nghhh~ s–so good,” you mewl.

Gahyun only replies with a giggle on your cock. Her grip is still firm. Her free hand fondles your balls gently, trying to coax cum out of you.

She catches her rhythm, moving her head in a hypnotic motion. She really wants you to cum under her influence like this. You hear her gag. You hear her choke. You hear her sputter.

The tension in your loins starts to rise again. You’re on the verge of cumming with the help of the earlier handjob, and she doesn’t seem to stop at all. That’s it. You’re unloading your cum inside of Lee Gahyun’s mouth, making her taste your white essence.

“G–Gonna cum,” you utter.

Gahyun responds by going as rapidly as she can on your throbbing cock. The sensation is electric. It shoots through you like a bullet. The knot tightens, and you can do nothing to stop it.

With the final stroke, you unload your pent-up lust into Lee Gahyun’s throat, making her taste your essence. Your body jerks forward in pure pleasure. You let out a low, guttural groan at your precipice, unable to make sense of the situation. She lets out a satisfied hum as she feels your white, hot cum hit the back of her throat. You’re probably salty, like the other women have said.

You slowly come down from your peak, finally catching your rhythm again. Your cock’s spurts turn into soft drizzles off the slit. Gahyun pulls off of your cock with a loud pop. What an obscene sight. Her face is a fucking mess—mascara, lipstick, it’s all wrong. You’re still too dazed to say a thing, though.

“You taste good,” she says, opening her mouth, sticking her tongue out lewdly to show the emptiness of her wet cavern. She drank it all.

“I–I wanna do this again,” you involuntarily utter from the depths of your heart. “I want you to suck my cock again.”

Maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of your words. Maybe it’s the wake of your climax. She bursts out a laugh, a genuine one. You watch her laugh awkwardly.

“Ask me–ha–properly,” she says. “Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Suck–”

“Suck my cock again?”

She lets out a chuckle, before answering, “Definitely, maybe.”

—

[anisespice]

Hey girl got a request,so like let’s say bonten is having a meeting with a new criminal organization gang that came in to come up with a deal,and while we are just sitting in the back looking at our new sparkly items Koko bought us,and the new criminal organization gang calls us out saying it’s disrespectful and rude calling us names..And bonten doesn’t like that one bit..So yeah I want them to react to that

hope it makes sense 😔😍🤺🤺

SAVE ME FROM MY WRITER'S BLOCK, ANON - HERE WE GO, NO MARIO. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting~!

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, misogynistic undertones (from another gang), implied violence, guns mentioned, reader is criminally oblivious (love that for her), guard-god!bonten supremacy, sanzu gets his own warning lol and i think that's it.

notes: yall. can you believe i actually wrote this in one sitting? without stopping?? wild concept for me, haven't been able to do that in a good minute *knock on wood*, but i hope you enjoy! more stuff coming soon ♡

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

Upon the arrival of the recently developed organization, officially known as Kaiju, things already weren’t off to a great start. They were late, clocked at about twenty minutes past schedule. Excuses poured from them like a broken faucet, blaming their tardiness on traffic, which the members were willing to give the benefit of the doubt, some more than others. Then, they were unprepared. Scrambling about with their half-assed introduction mixed with a sloppily thrown together presentation, it was insulting at worst. 

Here they were, biggest in the game, offering an opportunity to help underground operatives make a name for themselves..and this is how they want to showcase their potential? Mikey waved it off when his number three voiced this flaw, merely chalking it up with inexperience–Everyone has to start somewhere, right? 

But. Finally came strike three. The one thing, the most damning thing they could’ve ever done to have mercy jump right out the window and straight to hell, was when one of their foolish members spoke ill of you. 

It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment. 

All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.

And it was going to stay that way. 

By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~” 

“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms. 

Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received. 

Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–

Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?” 

“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran. 

“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?” 

“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.” 

“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager. 

The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.” 

Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.

Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.

“Oh, is the meeting over already?” 

Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.” 

You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.” 

“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[lee-laurent]

California Lovin' - Quinn Hughes

Summary: quinn's new fling has an... interesting history

content: CHEATING (it's like the majority of the plot, so...), implied sex but no smut, heavy make out, angst (lots of it), cliffhanger

wc: 6.4k

notes: hey! maybe this is cliché. idk... but i wanna state that you're not really supposed to like izzy or be cheering for her. you'll see!! she has some likable characteristics but don't let her fool you...

Isabelle Abbott was the kind of girl who turned heads without even trying. Sun-kissed blonde hair that seemed to fall perfectly no matter how she styled it, legs that went on for miles, and a smile so effortlessly bright it could make you forget what you were saying mid-sentence. She had that kind of charm that made her seem both unattainable and approachable all at once.

She wasn't just beautiful; she was magnetic. The type of girl you'd expect to see on the arm of someone like Trevor Zegras.

They'd been official for just over a year, long enough that her presence had become a constant in his life. She'd been there for the big wins and the tough losses, the nights out with his teammates, and the quiet nights spent on their sofa. Izzy knew all his quirks--the way he tapped his stick twice before every faceoff, the bad jokes he told when he was nervous (something that rarely happened), the playlists he swore were good.

And just as importantly, she knew his friends.

Trevor had wasted no time introducing her to the core group of guys who meant the most to him: his teammates, his childhood buddies, and the Hughes brothers.

She'd met Jack first, a whirlwind introduction at a bar last summer when Trevor had dragged her out to meet "the boys." Jack, all grins, had immediately taken to her, cracking jokes and trying to get a rise out of her like they'd known each other for years.

Then there was Luke, quieter but just as sharp and sarcastic as Jack. Izzy had a soft spot for Luke; he reminded her of Trevor in his less flashy moments.

And finally, Quinn. She'd only met him a handful times compared to his brothers, but he still stood out. He wasn't as loud or playful as Jack and Trevor, but that made him all the more interesting. He wasn't the kind to fill silences with mindless chatter. When Quinn spoke, it was deliberate, like every word mattered.

Trevor thought Quinn was the greatest thing to ever happen to the world. Always trying to make him laugh but also teasing him relentlessly.

So when Trevor suggested that the three boys come stay with them in California for a week during the offseason, Izzy had been all for it.

"C'mon," he'd said, leaning against the kitchen counter while Izzy poured herself a drink. "It'll be fun. You like them, right?"

Izzy laughed. "I've only met them a couple of times, Trev. But sure, it sounds great."

"Trust me, you'll love it," he nodded, crossing the kitchen to wrap his arms around her waist. "We'll hit the beach, throw a party... You can show them what California living is all about."

She'd agreed without hesitation, jumping at the opportunity to play tour guide. But she didn't realize that the week ahead would be anything but carefree.

~~

The boys had only been in California for three days, but Trevor had wasted no time planning a party that would be, in his words, "one for the books."

The house was packed. Music blared and energy seemed to buzz from every corner. Friends, teammates, and a few faces no one seemed to recognize mingled in the open-concept living space, spilling out onto the backyard patio where string lights twinkled over their hot tub.

Quinn sat on the arm of the sofa, nursing a beer and half-listening to what Jack was talking about with one of their fellow hockey players. His attention kept wandering, and somehow always landing on... her.

Izzy moved through the crowd like she belonged there, laughing at something one of her and Trevor's friends said as she brushed a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder. She wore a sundress, the kind that fit her frame in a way that was impossible not to stare at.

She was radiant, and Quinn hated himself for noticing. But it wasn't just her looks that caught his eye--it was her laugh and the way her gaze kept finding him, even when it shouldn't have.

Quinn told himself he was imagining it. Izzy was Trevor's girlfriend, for God's sake. She wasn't looking at him like that. But every time he'd catch her glances, there was a moment--a flicker of something dangerous.

It made him feel sick to the stomach.

"Yo, you good?" Jack nudged him, bringing him back to the conversation.

"Yeah... sorry. Zoned out. What were you saying?" He focused on his brother, on anything but the girl across the room who was making it impossible to breathe properly.

Hours later, the party was still going strong. Trevor was in his element, leading the crowd in some ridiculous drinking game while Izzy stood by his side, laughing at him. Quinn tried to keep his distance, sticking with Jack and Luke, but as the night wore on, the crowd thinned, and it became harder to avoid her.

It happened in the kitchen. Quinn had gone to grab another beer, hoping the cool air coming through the open window would clear his head. Instead, he found Izzy already there, drink in hand.

"Quinn," she smiled. "Hiding out?"

"Not hiding," he said neutrally. "Just grabbing a drink."

She smiled, tilting her head. "You don't seem like the party type."

"I... I guess I'm not," he admitted.

Izzy laughed softly. "I figured." She stepped closer, and Quinn's pulse picked up. She wasn't doing anything overtly inappropriate--just standing near him--but the air felt charged.

"You've been quiet the last few days," she said, her tone casual but her eyes anything but. "Is something wrong?"

Quinn shook his head, gripping the neck of his beer bottle tighter than necessary. "Nope. Everything's fine."

"You sure?" she pressed. Her eyes lingering on him, the corners of her lips turning up in a knowing smile.

"I'm sure." He took a step back, desperately needing the space to breathe. "Shouldn't you be with Trevor?"

Izzy shrugged. "He's busy winning at every drinking game ever. I don't think he's even noticed I'm gone."

Quinn didn't respoind, his throat tight. He could feel her eyes on him, searching, waiting.

"Quinn," she said softly. "You don't have to avoid me, you know."

"I'm not--"

"Yeah, you are." She smiled again, but this time it felt different--sharper, more deliberate. "I've noticed."

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Before Quinn could figure out what to say, Izzy stepped back, brushing past him as she moved toward the door. "I'll see you later," she said over her shoulder.

Quinn exhaled slowly, the beer in his hand long forgotten.

~~

By the time the party started winding down, the house was a mess of empty cans and discarded plastic cups. Trevor was out cold on the living room couch, one arm draped over his face and a lopsided grin still frozen in place from whatever dream he was having. Jack and Luke were somewhere outside in the yard, their laughter carrying faintly through the screen door onto the patio.

Quinn felt like a ghost, floating through the night with a dull buzz in his head. He wasn't drunk, not completely, but he wasn't sober either. He just wanted to crash. The beer he'd been nursing for at least the past hour dangled loosely in his hand as he trudged down the hallway, trying to remember which room Trevor said the brothers could use.

He opened the wrong door.

The overhead light was off, but the soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminated the room. Quinn blinked, realizing too late that this was the master bedroom--Trevor and Izzy's room.

"Quinn?"

Her voice startled him. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, barefoot, her dress wrinkled from the night. A half-empty glass of wine sat on the nightstand, her blonde hair spilling over one shoulder like Rapunzel.

"Shit, sorry," he said quickly, backing toward the door. "I didn't--uh--I thought this was--"

Izzy smiled faintly, waving him off. "It's fine. You're not the first one to stumble into the wrong room tonight." She studied him for a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah... just tired."

"Me too," she admitted, gesturing to the wine glass. "Figured I'd stay out of the way while Trevor passed out. He's got a talent for snoring really fucking loudly."

Quinn chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Sounds about right."

"Do you not like me or something?" Izzy asked suddenly, her voice light, but with a certain edge to it. "I get the feeling I make you uncomfortable or something."

Quinn frowned, completely caught off guard. "What? No. It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Quinn felt the familiar sickness in his stomach--the way she commanded his attention with such ease. The alcohol in his system dulled the part of his brain screaming at him to leave, to walk away.

"It's nothing."

Izzy didn't look convinced. "You're not a very good liar, Quinn."

He exhaled, running his free hand through his hair. "Look, you're Trevor's girlfriend. I don't--this isn't--"

She stood then, stepping closer, and his breath hitched. Her bare feet made no sound on the rug, but in his mind she might as well have been stomping.

"You didn't answer my question," she teased.

"I don't think I should be here."

Izzy reached out, her fingers brushing his arm. "Why not?"

The contact sent a jolt through him that made his heart race. "Because," he said, his voice rough, "this is your room. Trevor's room."

She didn't step back. If anything, she moved closer, the scent of her perfume wrapping around him, dizzying and sweet. "Trevor's asleep," she said, her voice low, like a confession.

"That's not the point," Quinn said, though his voice lacked conviction.

"You're so serious all the time. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, trying to focus on anything but her face.

"I kind of like it," she said, her hand dropping to her side but her gaze still fixed on him.

Quinn shook his head, trying to clear the fog that had settled over him. "Izzy, I should go."

"Then go," she said simply, but there was a challenge in her tone, like she knew he wouldn't.

And he didn't.

Before he could stop himself, his hand was on her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was clumsy at first--driven by the alcohol coursing through their veins. Her hands found his shoulders, his neck, threading into his hair as he backed her up against the edge of the bed.

"Quinn," she murmured against his lips, her voice breathless.

His mind screamed at him to stop, to pull back, but his body wouldn't listen. He pressed her down onto the mattress, his weight pinning her beneath him as their movements grew more desperate, more frantic.

It was reckless. Stupid.

Unforgivable.

But in that moment, it didn't matter.

~~

It was months before they saw each other again. Months since the night at the party, since Quinn had told himself it was a mistake, a one-time lapse in judgement that would--could--never happen again.

He'd done everything he could to push it out of his mind. He didn't think about the way her lips tasted like expensive wine, or the way her nails had dragged across his skin. He didn't think about the way she'd looked at him in the aftermath, her chest rising and falling as if she'd won some unspoken challenge.

Quinn had convinced himself he'd moved on, that he could face her without feeling like his lungs had collapsed.

But now, standing outside the visitor's locker room at the Honda Center, waiting for the postgame media shuffle to finish, he realized how wrong he'd been.

He hadn't expected to see her. He wasn't even sure if she went to Trevor's games, but when he spotted her in the stands during warmups, it felt like he'd forgotten how to breathe. She'd been sitting near the glass with some of the other WAGs, smiling and waving at Trevor, looking just as amazing as he remembered.

Maybe even more so.

"Stop it," he'd muttered to himself, forcing his eyes back to the ice.

He hadn't said a word to her, hadn't even looked her way since he spotted her. But as the hallway finally cleared and Quinn started toward the bus back to the hotel, a voice stopped him cold.

"Quinn."

He turned before he could think better of it. She was standing a few feet away, dressed in a simple white blouse and dark jeans that clung to her legs. Her hair was loose, falling over her shoulders, and she had that same unreadable expression--the one that made him feel like puking.

"Izzy," he said flatly. "What are you doing here?"

Her smile was small, almost coy. "It's a Ducks game, Quinn. Where else would I be?"

He glanced down the hallway, as if Trevor might appear out of nowhere. "You shouldn't be here."

"Relax," she said, crossing her arms. "Trevor's still in the locker room. He takes a long postgame shower."

Quinn exhaled, shaking his head. "I don't have time for this."

"For what?" she asked, stepping closer.

"This." He gestured vaguely between them, his voice sharp. "Whatever you think you're doing."

Izzy's smile faltered, but only for a moment. She tilted her head, studying him with that same unsettling intensity. "You're still mad about the summer, aren't you?"

Quinn's jaw tightened. "I'm not mad."

"Really? Because you seem mad."

"I'm not," he insisted, though the heat in his chest told a different story. "I just--I don't want anything to do with this, Izzy. What happened was a mistake."

She took another step forward, standing right in front of him. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

"Then why are you still standing here?"

Quinn didn't have an answer for that.

Izzy reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his forearm. It was a small gesture, but it sent a shiver down his spine. "You can tell yourself whatever you want, Quinn," she whispered. "But that didn't stop you last time."

His eyes looked into hers, sharp and conflicted. "I should have."

"But you didn't."

Then tension was suffocating. Quinn could feel any walls he'd built up crumbling down, one by one, every second he spent standing there with her.

"This isn't fair," he said, his voice strained.

"Life's not fair, Quinn."

She looked around, stepping even closer, her hand sliding up his chest. He should have walked out of the building without looking back.

But then she rose onto her toes, her lips brushing against his jaw, and his mind blanked.

"What about Trevor?" he asked weakly.

"I'll tell him I'm getting drinks with the girls... and we can go to your hotel," she murmured, her lips now at the corner of his mouth.

And just like last time, before he could think, his hands were on her hips, pulling her flush against him. Their lips crashed together, desperate and heated, all the tension returning.

Quinn backed her against a wall, fingers tangling in her hair as the kiss deepened. Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, a voice screamed at him to remember who she was, who he was betraying.

But he ignored it.

He'd always ignore it when it came to Izzy.

~~

It became routine.

Every time Quinn and Izzy crossed paths, they found a way to each other. Whether it was after a game or an impromptu hangout the boys had when their schedules aligned, it was like clockwork. Quinn stopped pretending to resist, and Izzy didn't bother to hide her intentions anymore.

The thrill was addictive. Dangerous.

It wasn't just about the physical attraction anymore, though that part was undeniable. The heat between them was impossible to ignore, but it was the stolen glances, the late-night whispers, and the texts that came at all hours that made it impossible to walk away.

They texted constantly, their conversations ranging from innocent to anything but.

Iz: big game tomorrow... don't choke Q: Big game for Trevor, you mean Iz: aren't you just adorable when you're jealous Q: Not jealous. Just don't know why you're texting me when he's probably laying right beside you Iz: maybe i just like talking to you more

Quinn rolled his eyes every time she said things like that, but it didn't stop him from replying.

~~

It wasn't planned. It never was.

Quinn found her waiting for him in a dimly lit hallway leading to the parking garage, her arms crossed casually as if she belonged there.

"What're you doing?" he asked, glancing around nervously.

"Seeing you," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Trevor's gonna be looking for you."

Izzy smirked. "He won't notice. He's too busy bragging about the goal he scored."

Quinn frowned, but his resistance was already wearing thin. "Relax," she whispered. "No one's gonna know."

He sighed. "Iz, you need to stop doing this."

"Doing what?"

"This. You have to end it. End things with Trevor."

"We've been over this."

"And I'm serious. This isn't fair to anyone involved."

"You think I don't know that?" she blinked.

"Then why don't you stop?"

"Why won't you?" she countered.

Quinn opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, her lips were on his, silencing whatever argument he was about to make. It didn't matter how many times it happened--every touch felt like the first, and every kiss made it harder to remember why he'd even tried to resist.

~~

Trevor wasn't blind.

He'd noticed the way Izzy's phone was practically glued to her hand lately, the way she'd smile faintly at the screen before locking it when he asked what was so funny.

He wasn't the kind of guy to get jealous, though. Izzy loved him--he knew that. She'd been with him through the highs and lows of the past year, and she wasn't the type to mess around.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Still, the little things nagged at him. Like the time he caught her texting someone late at night and she brushed it off as her "group chat." Or the way she seemed to get a little too excited when they were scheduled to play in Vancouver.

"Everything okay?" he asked one night as they sat on the couch, her legs thrown over his lap.

"Of course, baby," she looked up from her phone.

"You've been on that thing a lot lately."

Izzy shrugged, setting the phone aside. "Just keeping up with people. You know how it is."

Trevor nodded, forcing a smile. He didn't want to push it. He didn't want to be that guy.

But later that night, as Izzy lay curled up beside him, her phone lighting up with a notification she didn't check, Trevor couldn't help but wonder who she was talking to so often.

~~

The next time Quinn brought it up, they were tangled in the sheets of a hotel room, the scent of her perfume still clinging to his skin.

"You have to end things with him."

Izzy sighed, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. "We've talked about this."

"And I'm going to keep talking about it," he said, his jaw tight. "You can't keep doing this to him. Or me."

"I love him, Quinn."

"Stop saying that," he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended.

"It's true," she continued calmly. "Just because this is happening doesn't mean I don't love him."

Quinn stared at her oddly. "If you loved him, you wouldn't be here."

Izzy didn't respond right away, mindlessly drawing shapes on Quinn's bicep. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. "Maybe I'm selfish," she admitted. "Maybe I want too much. But that doesn't mean I don't care about him."

Quinn looked away. He hated how easily she justified it, how effortlessly she made him doubt his own convictions.

And he hated that, despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

~~

Jack's invitation to the lake house was supposed to be simple--just a week of relaxation before the grind of training camps began. It was a tradition, one Trevor always looked forward to. But when he told Izzy about it, her reaction was electric.

"A lake house?" she said, her eyes lighting up. "That sounds amazing!"

"You'll love it, Iz," Trevor promised, pecking her lips. "You know the boys are a good time. You'll get along great with their mom too--she usually comes to check on us for a day or two.

Izzy was already planning her outfits by the time Trevor texted Jack back with a yes.

For Quinn, the news hit like a punch to the gut.

The idea of spending days in close quarters with Izzy was enough to make his head spin. He knew how she was--playful, bold, and dangerously good at making everything seem innocent. She had a way of looking at him when no one else was watching, a flicker of heat in her eyes that sent him into fight or flight.

And now he'd have to spend days around her, watching her with Trevor.

He could already picture it: Izzy lounging on the dock in a bikini, laughing at Trevor's jokes like she hadn't cheated on him multiple times. The thought made him sick, but it wasn't just jealousy--it was guilt.

She acted so in love with Trevor, so infatuated with him, like she wasn't betraying him every tim she texted Quinn late at night or met him in hotel rooms after games.

It wasn't fair, not to Trevor, not to him, and not to her.

But Izzy didn't seem to care about fair.

~~

Izzy practically bounced out of the car when they arrived, her sunglasses perched on top of her head and her tote bag slung over her shoulder. "This place is fucking stunning, Trev!" she exlaimed, spinning around to take it all in.

Trevor laughed. "Told you."

Quinn hung back as they entered the house, his chest tight as Izzy greeted Jack with a hug and her perfect smile. Luke gave her a quick wave before disappearing into the kitchen, and Quinn could already hear voices floating around him.

"Quinn," Trevor said, clapping him on the shoulder. "This is gonna be fun, man. Loosen up a bit, will ya."

"Yeah... fun."

~~

From that moment on, Izzy played the part of the perfect girlfriend.

She was all smiles and affection, her laughter filling the house like sunlight. She and Trevor were inseperable--always touching, always smiling, always wrapped up in each other like they couldn't bear to be apart.

She sat on his lap at breakfast, stealing bites of his toast and feeding him pieces of fruit while everyone else groaned about the PDA. She looped her arms around his neck whenever they were standing still, leaning in to kiss him without hesitation.

When they lounged by the lake, she curled up beside him on a towel, her head resting on his chest while he lazily traced circles on her back.

It was infuriating.

To anyone else, they looked perfect together--young and in love, the kind of couple that made people smile. But Quinn knew better. He knew what it felt like to have Izzy's hands on him, her lips against his, her whispered promises that didn't mean anything but still managed to undo him.

And now, here she was, acting like none of it had ever happened.

~~

Quinn wasn't sure if she was doing it on purpose at first.

The way she walked around in nothing but bikini bottoms and one of Trevor's oversized T-shirts, the hem just barely grazing the top of her thighs. They way she brushed past him in the hallway, her fingers grazing his arm like it was an accident.

But then there were the moments that felt too deliberate to ignore.

Like the time she came back from the dock, her skin damp and glistening from the lake, her tiny bikini barely covering her body. She passed Quinn on her way to the kitchen, her fingers toying with the string of her top as if she was adjusting it.

"You're looking a little sunburned," she said, her voice light and teasing. "Need some sunscreen?"

He gritted his teeth, staring at the table in front of him. "I'm fine."

Izzy smiled, lingering just long enough to make him uncomfortable before turning and heading toward Trevor, her laughter floating back to him like a challenge.

It only seemed to get worse as time went on.

She'd stretch out on the dock in the smallest swimsuits Quinn had ever seen, her body bathed in sunlight as she flipped through books or scrolled on her phone. When Trevor leaned down to kiss her, she'd reach up to tug him closer, her laughter sickeningly sweet as she teased him about his tan lines.

And yet, she never stopped looking at Quinn.

Every time he looked her way, she was already watching him, her eyes sparkling. When they passed each other in the house, she'd tilt her head just slightly, holding her bottom lip between her teeth.

The worst was when she leaned over him during a game of cards, pretending to reach for her drink. Her hand brushed his arm, her boobs were practically in his face, and Quinn had to pretend he wasn't staring right at them.

"Something wrong, Quinn?" she's whispered.

"Maybe you should worry less about me and more about Trevor," he spat back under his breath.

Quinn felt like he was unraveling. He tried to avoid her, but she was everywhere, always just within reach, always testing him.

Trevor, oblivious as ever, seemed the happiest Quinn had seen him. He spent hours attached to Izzy's side, partnering up for every game, whispering to each other. She laughed at all his jokes like he was the funniest man alive.

Quinn was starting to feel like he hated her. Hated her for what she was doing. But he hated himself more for letting her get to him.

~~

His breaking point happened the afternoon of the fourth day there. The others were down by the dock, preparing the boat for a trip around the lake. Quinn had stayed behind, claiming he needed a break from the sun, though really he just needed space.

He was sitting in his room, trying to focus on the latest book he'd picked up, when the door creaked open. He looked up, heart sinking the moment he saw her.

Izzy stood in the doorway, barefoot and dripping wet from the lake, her hair slicked back. One of Trevor's t-shirts was slung over her shoulder, but she hadn't bothered putting it on.

"What are you doing here?"

"You ask me that a lot," she teased, earning just an eye roll in return. "But I was looking for you." She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, standing up.

"Ugh, you keep saying that too."

"Because it's true, Isabelle. They're all right outside. Trevor's right outside."

"So? He's not gonna come looking for me."

Quinn clenched his fists. "Do you enjoy this? Pushing me until I can't think straight? Watching me lose my fucking mind while you play house with him?"

Her smile fell and Quinn thought, for a moment, she might actually leave. But then she stepped closer.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Quinn."

"Bullshit."

She flinched slightly, but didn't stop moving toward him. "You think this is easy for me?"

"Then stop," he said, his voice breaking. "Stop doing this. Stop looking at me like that. Stop--"

She placed a hand on his cheek and whatever argument he was building went out the window.

~~

Quinn didn't know how they ended up in the bathroom, their lips crashing together. Izzy's hands were on his chest, pulling him closer as the water from the shower rained down around them, soaking his clothes and her bikini.

"I hate you," he muttered against her lips, his hands gripping her hips like he couldn't bear to let go.

"No, you don't," she whispered back, her voice breathless and taunting.

He didn't. That was the problem.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed her against the tiled wall, the steam from the water quickly filling the air. Every kiss was desperate, frantic, like they were trying to drown out the real world.

Quinn knew it was wrong. He knew what it would do to Trevor if he ever found out, what it was probably already doing to him. But in that moment, with Izzy's body pressed against his and her lips on his neck, he didn't care.

When it was over, they stood in silence, the water still running as they caught their breath.

Izzy was the first to move, brushing wet hair from her face as she stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. She didn't say anything, just shot him a knowing smile.

"You should go find Trevor before he notices," Quinn said hoarsely.

She wrapped the towerl around herself and turned to face him. "You could've stopped me."

"I probably should've."

Izzy laughed, shaking her head. He leaned in to kiss him one last time before slipping out his room.

Quinn stood there for a while, the water still pounding against his skin as the guilt settled in. It wouldn't happen again. But he'd told himself that so many times before.

~~

It had been a long day, but a good day. Sun-soaked hours spent on the boat, laughter, and drinks passed around as they floated on the lake. By the time they returned to the house, everyone was tired, their energy drained.

Trevor was in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water when he heard voices coming from the hallway. At first, he didn't think anything of it. But then he heard his name.

"Trevor doesn't know, Izzy. But he's gonna figure it out eventually," Quinn's voice was low but firm, laced with obvious frustration.

Trevor froze, the glass halfway to his lips.

"You don't know that," Izzy replied, almost like she was trying to soothe him.

"Yes, I do," Quinn shot back. "You think he hasn't noticed how much time you spend on your phone? How distracted you've been? He's not an idiot, Izzy."

There was a beat of silence, and then Izzy said, "It doesn't matter. I love him."

Trevor felt queasy. He stepped closer, careful to keep his movements quiet as he strained to hear more.

"You keep saying that. But if you really loved him, you wouldn't be doing this."

"Quinn--"

"No," he interrupted. "You need to end this. You need to tell him the turth and end it, or I will."

Trevor didn't need to hear more. He turned and walked quickly back to the guest room, his mind running a mile a minute.

Izzy came into the bedroom about fifteen minutes later, her hair slightly damp from a quick shower. She was wearing a Ducks' t-shirt, the same one she always wore to bed, her expression calm, serene.

But Trevor didn't look at her.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he said shortly, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the floor.

Izzy frowned. "You don't sound fine."

"Who were you talking to just now?" he looked up.

Her eyes widened, barely, but it was enough. "What do you mean?"

"In the hallway. I heard you. You and Quinn."

Izzy froze. "Trevor, I don't--"

"Don't lie to me," he snapped, standing abruptly. "I heard you, Izzy. You think I haven't noticed? The way you've been acting? Who is it?"

"It's not what you think," she said quickly, her voice shaky.

"Then what is it?" Trevor demanded. "Because from where I'm standing, it sounds a hell of a lot like you're cheating on me."

"I'm not--" she started, but the words died on her lips.

"Don't. Do not lie to me, Isabelle. Just tell me the truth."

Tears welled in her eyes and she looked like she might actually come clean. But then she shook her head. "I love you, Trevor. I do"

"Stop saying that!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. "You don't get to say that when you're--" He broke off, clenching his fists at his sides. "Just tell me the truth. Who is it?"

Her silence spoke volumes.

Trevor laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "It's him, isn't it? It's Quinn."

Her head snapped up. "Trevor--"

"Don't," he repeated, his voice raw. "Just... don't."

~~

The shouting started quietly at first--muffled voices behind the closed door of Trevor and Izzy's room. Quinn was sitting on the couch with Jack and Luke, flipping through the channel guide, when the volume spiked.

"Are they fighting?" Luke asked, frowning as he turned his head toward the hallway.

"Sounds like it," Jack said, brow furrowed. "Weird. They've been grossly happy all week."

Quinn didn't say anything. His chest constricting with every shout that echoed down the hall.

"I heard you, Izzy!" Trevor's voice roared, loud enough to carry through the house now. "You think I'm stupid? You think I didn't piece things together?"

Jack and Luke exchanged a concerned glance.

"Should we like check on them?" Luke asked hesitantly.

Before Jack could answer, the door to the guest room flew open. Trevor stormed down the hall, his face red with anger, his fists at his sides.

"Trevor," Izzy called after him, her voice panicked. "Wait--"

But he wasn't waiting. He was heading straight for the living room, his eyes locked on Quinn like a heat-seeking missile.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked, standing cautiously as Trevor approached.

"You," Trevor snarled, pointing at him. "You've been fucking her, haven't you?"

The room fell into stunned silence. Jack and Luke froze, their eyes darting between Trevor and Quinn.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Don't play dumb," Trevor snapped, his gaze never leaving Quinn. "You've been sneaking around with her. Behind my back. Haven't you?"

"Trevor, you don't know what you're saying," Quinn started, his voice calm but strained.

"Don't!" Trevor barked, stepping closer. "Admit that you're a backstabbing piece of shit!"

Quinn's jaw tightened, his own anger bubbling to the surface. "It's not as simple as you think."

"Not as simple?" Trevor laughed bitterly. "What's not simple about you fucking my girlfriend?"

"Trevor--"

"Shut up!" Trevor's palm collided with Quinn's chest, shoving him back a step. "You don't get to talk. You don't get to justify this."

"I'm not justifying anything," Quinn snapped, shoving him back. "But maybe you should take a good, hard look at yourself before you start pointing fingers."

Trevor's face twisted in confusion. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been so busy treating Izzy like arm candy that you don't even know her," Quinn shot back. "You're too wrapped up in hockey and showing her off to even care about what's going on in her life. Do you even know her favourite book? Her favourite movie? Hell, do you even know where she grew up?"

"Don't you dare--" Trevor lunged at him, but Quinn sidestepped just in time.

"You don't care about her," Quinn spat. "Not really. You care about how she makes you look. About having the perfect girlfriend. And she knows it."

"You don't know anything about us!" Trevor roared, swinging.

The punch connected with Quinn's jaw, sending him stumbling backward. The room erupted into chaos as Jack and Luke jumped up, rushing to pull them apart.

"Z, stop!" Jack shouted, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him back.

"Quinn, are you okay?" Luke asked, standing between them.

Quinn wiped his mouth, tasting blood. "I'm fine," he said lowly. He straightened, his gaze locked on Trevor. "But you're not."

"Get the hell away from me," Trevor growled, shaking Jack off. "I don't ever want to see your face again."

"Trevor--" Izzy's voice broke through the chaos as she appeared in the hall, her face red and tear-streaked.

"Don't," Trevor snapped, his voice cold. "Don't try to talk to me."

Her stormed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him.

~~

The house was unnervingly quiet after Trevor stormed out. Luke had retreated to his room, clearly shaken by what had just happened, and Izzy had disappeared somwehere, leaving Quinn alone in the living room with Jack.

Quinn sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. His jaw ached where Trevor's punch had landed, but the pain was nothing compared to the heaviness he felt.

Jack stood nearby, arms crossed, his face stern. He hadn't said much during the argument, but now that it was over, the silence between them was deafening.

Finally, he spoke.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Quinn didn't look up. "Jack, I--"

"No," Jack cut him off, his voice sharp. "I don't wanna hear it. Do you have any idea what you just did?"

"It wasn't just me, Jack. Izzy--"

"Izzy?" Jack's laugh was bitter. "Don't trying to pin this all on her. You're my brother, Quinn. You're supposed to be better than this."

"I know I fucked up. I didn't mean for it to happen--"

"But it did," Jack snapped, stepping closer. "And now what? Trevor's out there thinking his friend and his girlfriend stabbed him in the back, and Luke and I are stuck in the middle of your mess!"

Quinn stood. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel like shit about what happened?"

"Good," Jack shot back. "You should feel like shit."

"Jack, you don't understand. She--"

"Stop! Stop trying to justify it. Don't try to make it sound like it isn't your fault, Quinn. It was selfish. All of it. You knew what this would do, and you did it anyway."

"You think I wanted to ruin things?"

Jack's voice softened, but the disappointment in his eyes cut deeper than his anger. "I don't know what you wanted, Quinn. But you ruined it anyway."

Quinn looked away, unable to look his brother in the eye.

Jack sighed, shaking his head. "Trevor doesn't deserve this."

Quinn didn't respond. What could he say? Jack was right.

"You need to fix this," Jack continued flatly. "I don't know how, but you do."

And with that, he walked away too, leaving Quinn alone in the living room to drown in the guilt.

[persicipen]

𑑛 “KEEP AN EYE ON ME” ﾉ WRIOTHESLEY. GENSHIN IMPACT

performer gn reader ﾉ words 1.0k ᯽ bodyguard wriothesley. reader goes on stage — no specifics, so technically it’s still canon au and could be a singer, a dancer, an idol. very suggestive with explicit language but it’s only teased once ﾉ rewritten (old request) because i saw mooties talking about this :3 ᯽ SUGGESTIVE CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

Wriothesley shifts nervously from one leg to another, trying to shake off the itch of an unspecified feeling. Hand brushing through the hair, hoping to gather back his thoughts just like the matted greying strands, but to no avail. You’re not leaving his head, your mirrored silhouette sparkling in his silver eyes.

The way you move, hips swinging to the side and down just as the music gets low, makes him gulp down and blink. He has to make sure he’s not imagining it, for it feels too good to be true.

Then, with a pop, you break out of your routine, the special dance you had trained repeatedly in secret exclusively to surprise the crowd tonight, all while never going against the melody nor losing the perfect rhythm. He’s amazed by your ability to become one with the sound, something he could only dream about.

He’s just here to observe you, but other than that — any possible interruptions or unpleasant events, such as nagging fans or worse. Standing still, silent, and leaning on the wall behind the scene where he can get just a glimpse of the grand performance; he’s cautious. Only pretending to be relaxed, a small part of him is enchanted and enjoying your view while the rest is ready to act. Just in case. He never wishes for anything to happen. The less work there is for him to do, the better for everyone around him.

Yet he lets his mind wander to what-ifs. His fingers tap lightly against the metal buckle of his pants, playing with the leather strap on the side of his thigh. How would you move to a slower song? Does your body still find harmony with this kind of cadence too?

Of course, it does. It has to.

You’re so hardworking, there’s probably nothing you wouldn’t be able to do. But currently in promotion are more dynamic performances, and you have to bounce across the stage, elegant and beautiful like the sight of a deer in the forest — almost magical if not for the heavy instruments buzzing through all the surfaces.

Despite everything, the shine in your eyes and the curve of your smile remain unmoving as ever. You’re captivating, stealing hearts and bringing people to tears of joy. You’re a star that gives them all the happiness they need.

And he’s no different. He sees you as the perfect being. It doesn’t matter if it’s the persona you use on the stage or the one that becomes you when you slump against him after every exhausting performance, mumbling how proud you feel and ranting about the soreness of your body, and other stuff like that. Truly, just incoherent babbling — but he loves to hear everything, making sure at the same time that you two won’t get caught by any pair of prying eyes.

(He always thinks about that, so you don’t have to.)

As the mood slightly changes, the tunes mellow down. Not as much as Wriothesley would love to hear, that would be too good — and you bend down on your knees as you prepare for the next piece. It’s the one he called the sexy one when you were sharing the plan with him a few weeks ago, something you giggled away and shushed him immediately, not wanting to agree out loud.

But it was true. And the live dance was no better.

So now he has to endure watching you twirl on your toes, arching your back, sliding your hands along the curves of your body, all that sensual shit that drives him crazy and yet— and yet he cannot do anything about it, just taking the spectacle as it is, so thrilled to be able to see it from a different perspective.

It’s almost burning, this feeling inside, as his thoughts involuntarily drift off towards lustful imagination. Could it be possible to ask you to do the same move that you just did, but right in front of him? Or maybe even on his lap, the one where you crouch down innocently just to act provocatively once again?

Damn, that would be so hot. He has to clench his fist to calm down and return to the present moment.

When you at last walk offstage after another successful performance, your footsteps sound strangely satisfying as they click-clack down the corridor. There is no doubt about the fatigue and thirst in your expression, yet he has a feeling that you wouldn’t ask for a break aside from a quick few minutes to cool down and change your outfit.

Sweat glistens on your skin, sticking to your hair, making you sparkle in the harsh lights of the changing room. You’re beautiful like that; it’s the sweat of success and because you’re doing something you love. It’s not the same sweat when you stress over something or get sick and have to stay wrapped in hot blankets to fight off the illness.

Nonetheless, it feels nasty, so you quickly grab a towel and hug it closely, tapping gently on your face so as not to ruin your makeup. The cool and soft fabric works wonders on your excited body.

You tell the others it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, while in reality, you glance towards your bodyguard, and that’s all he needs to know. He thinks that if you could only give him even a light kiss on the cheek, that would be enough, that would make him happy and fill him with a new surge of motivation. Oh, that would be so great.

But everything is different…

As soon as there are just the two of you, he pulls you close, failing to control his rapturing emotions. No, of course, he will not do anything stupid now — you only have a minute or so for him, but he wished for it to be untrue. His lips barely graze against your temple, leaving a tender peck there; you hear his low and velvety voice whisper right into your ear some words.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard later tonight…”

And that’s the only praise that makes you genuinely know that you did exceptionally well on the stage.

[artsy-book]

using only song titles of one artist/band, cleverly answer the questions and then tag people

Thank you for the tag @ellalily !! This was really fun ^-^

Artist: Derivakat

1) What is your gender?

FIREBORN

2) How do you feel?

Smile

3) If you could go anywhere?

Lost In Space

4) Favourite mode of transportation?

Viper

5) Your best friend-

Honey

6) Favourite time of day?

Night Before Dawn

7) If your life was a TV show-

Cycle

8) Relationship status?

In My Head

9) Your fear?

Last Goodbyes

no pressure tags: @sincerely-nines @stitchthesewords @snaxle @heroblender @enbyandyy and anyone who wants to as well ^-^

[sendmyresignation]

Heavy Metal MCR Manifesto

At long last it has arrived from the depths of hell...... the essential guide to all things metal, at least in the context of My Chemical Romance, its members and its musical history! Have you ever wondered exactly how My Chem has been influenced by metal? We all know Ray loves Iron Maiden and Gerard can do black metal vocals, but just how deeply is My Chemical Romance connected to metal music and culture?

The answer is probably longer and more elaborate than you thought!

In this primer you will discover why Frank and Ray work so well together, how Maiden jump-started Ray and Gerard's creative partnership, what sex and satan have to do with Gerard, and what it is about metal that has made it such a significant sonic and aesthetic influence on every album My Chem have ever released. Check all this and more out at the place posers go to die!!! The MCR METAL PRIMER!!!

(Image by Mark Beemer)

[lilacerull0]

[mysticalcats]

ooh okay I want to hear one thing you think about skimble!!! It can be a headcanon or a little stage detail or whatever! Tell me about your guy :D

THANK YOU FOR ASKING ABOUT MY GUY YOU'RE SO NICEEE

i accidentally wrote so much it's kind of embarrassing so let me just say a little detail i like which is this lil thing skimble does in 1998 during theee "they all could reflect it was very nice" line i think??? not really a small detail but i always smile when i see it

ough he's just so happy... (this gif is from @noriseyebrow btw!)

okay i didn't want this to be so long for people who like. do not care lol so i just put it under the cut because im not even sure how coherent this is but bear with me while i rant for a sec

something that's been on my mind lately is ross finnie as skimble singing the "it was very pleasant when they found their little den" part.. this goes for both the 2002 and the 2015 productions. because they're like. so different. and i love them both so very much!! i really like 2002's because he sounds so sweet and like. his voice is very happy in the calmest way possible yknow. and i really like how he talks. oh and i especially like after the cats say "weak or strong?" and he says "oh, alright!" i just think it's so cute and it's a very little detail but you know. i get hung up on tiny details about my fav guy. ALSO i really like how he says "and" in the "you could make it dark or bright, and! a button you can turn to make a breeze" like he just remembered it and he's excited to say it

AND THE 2015 PRODUCTION. HE'S SO LOUD AND EXCITED AND IT'S JUST. he's just so fucking excited and how loud he gets because he's just so hyped to talk about trains that he can't control his voice and he's yelling and it's just!!! it makes me crazy. especially in the "you could make it dark or bright!", "and a funny little basin you're supposed to wash your face in!", and "then the guard looked in politely and would ask you very brightly, 'WOULD YOU LIKE YOUR MORNING TEA?'" and then the other cats say "weak or strong" and it kind of sounds like he's just yelling incomprehensibly for a second after they say that, like he's so excited he's just gotta scream. could just be me imagining it though

and these two versions of the song are so so different but they both communicate his character so well i feel!! i love you ross finnie you understood skimble like no one else

here's the clip of the two songs btw!

[whenthewallfell]

Finally ready to share this beast of a playlist :D Highly recommend having shuffle off for this, as it's in chronological order

---

THE HUNGER GAMES

i say "don't let me go" // and you say "why can't we be friends?"

Gallows Pole. Satellite. Talk. Happiness. Later On. Why Can't We Be Friends?

CATCHING FIRE

part-time soulmate, full-time problem // so hold me like a grudge

(pre-tour) We Have It All. Fourth of July. Nine Lives. Everybody Wants Somebody

(Victory Tour) Spiraling. Easier. You've Haunted Me All My Life. Tongues & Teeth. Real Love Song. Hold Me Like A Grudge

(Quarter Quell) Someday You Will Be Loved. The Last of the Real Ones. My Love Will Never Die

MOCKINGJAY

now my neck is open wide // begging for a fist around it

I Found. Control. Deep Sea Diver. Who Are You Really? Castle. The Sharpest Lives

EPILOGUE

no grave can hold my body down // i'll crawl home to her

Jet Pack Blues. begin again. I Wish You Would. Like Real People Do. This Must Be the Place. Work Song

[cathalbravecog]

i'm the antonymph of the internet

[synthaphone]

so there's a Stop Making Sense cover album coming out in honor of the movie's 40th anniversary, and i listened to the preview tracks that are out, and the best thing about it so far, for me, is that its reminded me that Girlfriend is Better is a really fucking good song

[girlivealwaysbean]

sometimes my bestfriend is like an angel in disguise istg

[by-your-leave]

Despite only having one snow map Genealogy of the Holy War is actually a winter game

[whenthegoldrays]

sigh

[sanzuphobe]

part of me is sad that no one i know knows strangers from hell because i dont get to talk about it with anyone but the other part is really glad because if they did know it and heard me talk about it they would be very concerned for my mental health im sure

[bl00dh0rs3]

the way i have absolutely no business being the way i am