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frmisnow · 5 months ago

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ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw)

summary. what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!

notes. guysss i changed my mind! there will be a fifth chapter because there is something that i want them to do- a refrence to chp. 2 + they need to get lil cheonsa duh?? ✶𝄞 if y'all are currently reading this, i'm probs already on vacation! so it'll take a minute, regardless, i hope everybody enjoys!!

warnings/includes. non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smut described/implied multiple times!! (morning sex, very slight voyeurism / heavy flirting in a boutique, NASTY dirty talk) , drabble-ish (idk i just want them to be happy), cheonsa mention (we cheered)

the morning had begun in the best way possible. the bright italian sun on your face, the hotel sheets lightly crumpled, well- and jungkook.

jungkook who had woken you up with gentle kisses starting from your face, moving to your shoulder, all the way to your tits. kissed your sore little thighs too, because "they deserved it" after all the things they've gone through - sure.

he made love to you. moaned how beautiful you were along with some other sweet dirty nothings.

it was the kind of sex that made you feel cherished, worshipped even, as if all of his love was burried solely in his tip and he poured all of it into you, when you both came.

after spending what felt like hours wrapped up in each other, you had finally left the bed, your body still tingling from the morning’s activities. the first spot was a cat café, jungkook had read about it somewhere, thinking of you.

you both had spent a few hours in there, sipping on your respective lattes, playing with the little cats while their tiny paws brush against your legs. jungkook had his polaroid camera out at all times, clicking away.

showed the photos to you, told you how cute you looked, how the kitten in your lap looked just like you. how you both should get little cheonsa just like that.

closely after, you both took your time strolling through the streets, hands intertwined, ending with him pushing you into a high-end boutique. you smiled at his eagerness, it wasn't the first time he spend that black card of his on you.

jungkook handed you a dress, that reminded more of a whisper of fabric rather then a real garment, leaving little to the imagination. but you instantly nodded, that's what you liked about being with him; you didn't feel shy, there was no reason to. not with every single thing jungkook has said about your body this far.

the fitting rooms were large, they felt like rooms by themselves. jungkook sat outside patentily, tapping his legs. when you walked out you could clearly see him trying his absolute best not to reach out his hands, his pupils widening ever so slightly, taking a deep breath to compose himself, "turn around, angel, for me."

you did as he said when done, walking over to take a seat on his thigh while his fingers immediately moved to stroke your thighs, mumbling how pretty you were.

the way you were sitting, so close to him, he could make out your pretty panties peeking under the dress. black lace, with little bows he had gifted to you when you visited that lingerie place a few days ago, thinking of you in that store didn't make his growing buldge any better.

and you most certaintly made it even worse by whispering into his ear, how much you needed him and how wet you've been ever since this morning.

he bit his lip, your body was so painfully close and your skirt only rode up, gently pinching your thigh almost as a light warning, "remember where we are"

following you made a little pout, but mumbled a reluctant 'fine' anyway, making your way back into the fitting room.

next stop was a restaurant, you hadn't even noticed that it had gotten late by this time but jungkook took care of it, as always. how he managed to get a reservation at this place, you didn't quite know but you certaintly weren't complaining. he had pulled your leg over his some time ago, running his hands over the skin, the action innoccent in a way caring, like he was so sorry that you had to walk this whole day even though he had spoiled you shamelessly.

his fingers drew patterns and tiny circles over the skin, his face glowing from what was left of the sun through the large windows.

"i'm so happy" you smile, your fingers moving through his hair lightly.

jungkook's lips curl into a soft smile, just like yours, leaning into your touch, "i'm happy too, angel" his voice low and affectionate, "everday"

the evening went exeptionelly well, he talked you stupid about some of the other things he wanted to do, didn't mention business even once.

you both walked back to the hotel, you liked the city at night and had asked him to walk instead of taking a taxi. he didn't let go of your hand, swinging.

he walked back to the hotel with you, holding your hand tightly, it had been your wish to stroll back, you liked the city at night. it all reminded you of that night but it was different this time, it felt good not having wine in your system.

for once you felt like you actually could love jungkook, without alcohol, without your job, any other factor in your way. you could fuck him freely without having to blame the alcohol for it, after.

love is lust. that's why he pounds you into the large matress, tells you how bad you've been, how greedy you were.

he asked questions, dirty ones, you were way to brain fucked to understand dare to say even answer.

asks how much you'd like it, him filling you up everywhere, in the bathrooms, around his apartment, in the elevator, during your shifts at work, how he'd make you walk around feeling full, feeling dripping and sticky under your skirt.

describes how he'd call you into his office just so he could take you nicely on his desk. have you walk out later, nod to all your colleagues, like a good girl.

you barerly hear him and the words make you moan out are vile things that people only say when they are about to come. how you wanted to marry him, have him around you all times, how much you wanted him every minute.

you thought about how small you'd want the wedding to be, you, him and little kitten cheonsa. and you moan again, like a porn star.

and he responds, gripping your hips tighter, "i'd marry you tomorrow if you asked me to, hell i'd make a baby with you right this second if you wanted."

he let out a grunted string of 'please's though you weren't even sure what he was begging you for. your brain felt so incredibly mushy.

few seconds later, he filled you up, making a mess of you. he instantly reached out to touch your chin gently to look at you, "you okay, princess?"

you managed to nod but he shock his head, "words, i need to hear you, angel" it was a soft order, one you couldn't look away from.

so you reassure him that you are happy and so content, he seems to like your words, smiling. lifting you up and maneuvering you on top of him, still inside of you. his fingers trace over your bare back soothingly as he lights a cigarette with his other hand, just like that night.

and you smiled to yourself because you knew. you knew that this time when you woke up, you wouldn't have to leave, you would be able to look at his sleeping smile as long as you wanted. it was a comforting thought.

— cheonsa means angel.

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub , @yoongznme , @snow-strawberry , @ttanniett

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vifilms · 8 months ago

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❝ DO YOU FEEL ASHAMED? ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, ex!ellie, heavy angst, cheating, heartbreak, moving on, reader going through it, no happy ending y'all, this one has a little kick, ellie is a bit of a dirtbag in this, next time i write for her it'll be the most fluff.

RAYNE RAMBLES ★ wrote this last year after getting cheated on and it's just been sitting in my docs, forever. enjoy my pain?? idk, possible abby x reader sequel

ex!ellie who avoids you for a very long time after the breakup. she wishes it could be amicable between the two of you too, but it can't be. it never will be. ellie made sure of it. all of her belongings are still littered across your apartment, though her scent is gone, you still see her everywhere. you can't bring yourself to remove the framed photos of the two of you hanging across your home. she was happy, or so you thought, and you were. but today was the day. you were letting all of it go and her with it. your roommate had taken it all down for you, the strength to remove the past three years of your life just couldn't be found.

ex!ellie who doesn't really want to think about the way you'll look at her. her emerald eyes were always your favorite, you used to go on about how much you love them. how soft they looked at you, the light shining beneath them whenever she said something stupid and ellie just waited for your giggle or a hint of it anyway. they used to be kind to you, careful, even calm but it didn't seam to be the case anymore. ellie knew you wouldn't be either — not after she’s hurt you. carelessly, abusing your kind-hearted spirit, turned you to something resembling unbridled rage with a large dosage of resentment.

ex!ellie who is met with your roommate instead of you, before the door is slammed in her face. she expects to be met with sharp behavior. there wasn't a shadow of a doubt she did. ellie just wished it wasn't your best friend who she fucking hated. ellie never liked them. they never liked her and now she didn't have to hide it. what ellie couldn't stand was that they were right about her. three years in and instead of doing the decent thing, ellie chose to betray you. those closest to you were going to protect you from the enemy at all costs. the only you trust the most and cut you the deepest. as much as she despised it, it was all true.

ex!ellie who eventually gets you, after you hear her voice carelessly arguing with your friend. you place a box at the entry in front of her feet, before you walk away. ellie peaks through one foot in the door, but then you're already back with the second box. ellie can see the tears in your eyes and you see the guilt in hers. almost shining brighter than the shame. she knows how much it hurts you, her being here, being so close but so unimaginably far away it makes you want to hurl.

ex!ellie who watches you breathe deeply, your hands clenched into fists. before you're rubbing them at drained eyes, dark circles underneath them. she's to blame for everything you're going through. if she had just been honest from the beginning, maybe the two of you could've been friends and just left your love there. you were nothing but good to ellie, pure like white snow, and now the blood from her hands fell over you, staining you a violent red. you would never be pure again. no. not like before. you wouldn't ever blindly trust anyone just because you simply fell in love. putting yourself out like this again? no, you couldn't do it.

ex!ellie who tries to speak with you, mouth open, but no words are able to come out. she tried her best to put off this moment, the confrontation of the aftermath, facing the fact she had treated you like an afterthought, but you were more than just a thought ellie had tried to push away. you were a person she had left abandoned. she had promised you the world and caved when the time came to give in. she become everything you feared she would be, tearing you in little shreds of yourself as you tried to piece back what she had broke.

"you look like you haven't slept." ellie states, not really a question, but she almost phrases it as one. she doesn't have a right to ask. the two of you know she's forfeited knowing you, your life, how you're doing — she's the one whose damned it all.

"i don't really. not right now at least." you look anywhere but her eyes, your eyes concentrating towards the freckles meticulously scattered along her shoulders, her cheeks, and along her button nose. “anyways, should be everything of yours. i’ll contact dina if anything else shows up.” your tone sharp, clearly cutting through.

there’s no malice when you utter her girlfriend’s name, but ellie senses you’ll reserve the tone of betrayal just for her. she’s the one who abandoned her commitment to you.

not dina.

“can we talk? please?” ellie flashes her beautiful puppy eyes at you, once would make you melt, now you feel like throwing up.

“ellie.” there is it is, ellie thinks, betrayal and brutality laced in the voice who promised her a future. there once had been one, house, kids, a ring. it seems so silly now. it’s a warning the way you speak to her. don’t push your luck, williams.

she’s with dina. why does she even care?

she’d never seen you so upset, so vengeful, so tired of her. you weren’t lying when you never said you never wanted to see her again. every single beat of your heart meant it, the emotion cut off when you spoke to her, how you looked at her with this cold look in your eyes. arms crossed over your chest as if looking at her is the most taxing task in the world.

ellie was supposed to not care. she couldn’t, yet it bothered her you clearly didn’t.

“i have nothing i want to say, especially to you.” you bark, for the first time, ellie fears there might be a bite.

“i-i know i fucked up, okay? i just can’t stand the thought of you fucking hating me.” ellie pleads, a longing look in her eyes.

“well, i never thought i would, so i guess we’re all evolving and changing into horrible people.” you roll your eyes at her, watching as she struggles to pick up the boxes laid at her feet.

you loath how much you want to help her, but don’t.

you can’t.

“you’re not horrible.”

“well, you are.” your insult slapped her right across the face, the burning sensation stung but what hurt more was knowing you meant every word.

“this isn’t fair, i know what i did was bad, but i told you the truth. i didn’t lie, i confessed. isn’t it worth for at least, i dont know, a little empathy? something?” ellie sighed deeply, shoulders tense from the altercation with you. “

“you didn’t tell me because you’re a honest person. it’s because i would have found out and you were scared.” you scoff. “fuck you. wanting brownie points for admitting you cheated? go to hell.”

“what else could i have done? it was already too late.” ellie admits, shame laced in her eyes. you hope she feels every bit of shame for all the hell she’s put you through.

“i wonder why it was too late?” your sarcasm slicing through the air. ellie finally managed to get a grasp on boxes in her shaky hands as she tried to not crumble under your death glare from hell. “i was the last one to show up at the party to your new fucking relationship. huh, guess i would be one not invited? some weird fucking placeholder until you found something better. right under my fucking nose.”

she deserves every bit of it.

painfully, you were met with silence. ellie couldn’t do anything, apologize in a way she hadn’t before, beg for forgiveness, grovel for your compassion.

you were too angry, too heated, too fucking hurt. there’s only a split second of it, ellie almost missed it, but she saw it clearly. the gloomy blues hidden beneath your beautiful eyes, slowly becoming more evident. you’re trying your best to hide it beneath anger, mask it from her, but she sees it.

tears building the more your voice escalates and ellie would truly hate herself if she made you cry in front of her, again. she’s can’t see you do it again. it’s the last thing she wants. she can’t keep hurting you.

dina, fuck. she has to protect her. ellie’s unsure if you’ll lash out on here. you haven’t yet, but breakups pull the worst out of you and she’s fearful for the women she does love.

“just…don’t take it out on dina, alright? if you wanna be mad, fine. as much as i wish i could fix it, i know nothing i can say or do will earn your trust back. okay?”

your heart breaks at her instinct to protect dina, how she used to do the same for you. it nearly splits you into an abyss, cracking your soul just where she had nicked it. almost seemed intentional at this point.

“i would never be mean to her. she didn’t promise me a future together, you did. hope you have lovely fucking life with her.”

ex!ellie who is met with the wooden door being slammed in her face, nearly kissing her chin. she stayed there long enough to hear you cry, sitting on the concrete to hear the consequences of loving someone else who wasn’t her girlfriend, well now ex. she craved to punch something, someone. you whined, a name quietly dropped from your perfect lips, abby, your fucking best friend. she would be the one to comfort you, pick up the pieces of the wreckage ellie had left you with. it scorned her, letting a flame loose on her skin, with the thought of you with her. but she didn’t get to have feelings, she couldn’t be upset with how you chose to reassemble your sanity. not when she’s the one who broke you. even if it’s with the woman she always feared you love more than a friend.

DAILY CLICK + DONT BUY TLOU + DONATE

#AHHHH PAIN ?#GO AWAY ???!!!?????#yeah ... </3 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfiction #tlou2 #ellie williams angst

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im-so-normal-iswear · 3 months ago

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Hiii, could I request like the ‘06 gang (Sonic, Shadow, Silver) x reader (platonic or romantic is fine) that’s scared of vaccines/shots since I have to get ones soon and I like shake just thinking about it (I’m really sensitive (idk why) and my arm always hurts way longer than other people’s for some reason)

GRAHH SORRY FOR RANTING I LIKE NEVER EVER DO REQUESTS SO I’M REALLY NERVOUS ANYWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS OR NOT‼️‼️‼️

A/n: dw lol, ur not rambling

Triple S x reader scared of shots

Sonic:

Sonic’s the first to notice your nervousness as you anxiously tap your foot. He gets it, sitting still isn’t his thing either, so having to go through something uncomfortable? No thanks! But he’s not about to let you do this alone.

Sonic want to make sure that you aren't just suffering the whole time, so he tried to keep things light hearted. Making jokes, random distractions, etc to get your mind off the shots. Maybe making you do trivia of him

He’s tossing questions at you like, "What’s my favorite food? Wrong! It’s a chili dog AND cola! Gotcha"

When you reach the clinic, Sonic sees how tense you are, so he offers his hand with a smirk. "It's fine, you can hold on if you need to!" He’s playful about it, but his hand is warm, steady, and there for you to grip onto if you need. He’s always right there, "You got this! Think of it as just a tiny pinch!"

Once it’s over, Sonic doesn’t let you dwell on the soreness. Instead, he’s already planning a day full of fun things. "Hey, I know the perfect way to forget about that shot, let’s go grab some food or go to an arcade!"

He’s all about making sure you end the day on a high note, reassuring you every time you wince. He’ll even make you laugh by pretending his arm hurts too, just to keep your spirits up.

Shadow:

Shadow is the quiet support type. He notices how your usual energy fades the moment you realize you need to get a shot, and he can see the worry in your eyes even if you try to hide it. He may not say much, but he’s not about to let you go through this without his support.

Shadow isn’t big on comforting words, but he has a way of grounding you when you’re feeling anxious. He’ll place a steady hand on your shoulder, looking you in the eyes. "You’re stronger than this. You’ve faced worse." A bit of a tough love guy.

He knows you’re sensitive and that your arm tends to ache more than others afterward. So, he might take some to reassure you that when you get the shot, it'll be okay, and it won't be as harsh as other injuries you've attained.

When it’s over, Shadow stays by your side, silently making sure you’re okay. He’ll help you find a comfortable way to hold your arm, reminding you to relax the muscles around the injection site to ease the soreness. He even surprises you by making tea. If you wince, he might mutter, "hm, humans and your sensitive bodies..." but he'll still massage your arm, it'll probably hurt more than just getting the shot tho tbh-.

Silver

Silver is the most empathetic. He sees how anxious you are about the shot and starts trying to comfort you to the best of his abilities.

He knows fear is a big deal, and he’s very vocal about it. "Hey, it’s okay to be scared!" Silver’s the type to assure you it’s natural to feel nervous, and he offers to be there for you.

Silver tries to create the calmest atmosphere possible. He takes deep breaths with you, even suggesting meditation or some grounding techniques to help soothe you. "Let’s just close our eyes and focus on something peaceful for a minute."

After the shot, Silver feels terrible seeing you in any discomfort, so he’s extra attentive. He’ll offer to massage your arm if you’re okay with it (it's way more gentle than Shadow) or bring you anything to help ease the soreness, will give cuddles to ease the pain.

All 3 of them:

He’s the one to keep you smiling, whether with jokes or challenges to keep your mind busy. He’d bet Silver and Shadow on who can make you laugh the fastest, anything to keep you from focusing on your anxiety.

Shadow’s calm presence is there as a constant reminder that he's there, I mean if he didn't want to be there, he just wouldn't, but he is there. He doesn’t need to say much, but the way he holds your hand or pats your shoulder speaks volumes. He keeps things practical, making sure you know that your strength is what’s helping you through this.

Silver would be the one to say the gentle words that help you accept your fear without feeling judged. If you’re feeling sensitive afterward, he’d be there. "You did amazing. You’re stronger than you think, and you’ve got us all here to take care of you."

A/n: sorry if you expected Archie silver, you’re getting idw

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic x yn #sonic x reader #shadow x reader #silver x reader #silver the hedgehog #silver #shadow the hedgehog x reader #team triple s #triple s #sonic #shadow #scared of needles #scared of shots #reader scared of shots

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lee-laurent · 21 days ago

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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.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine

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nothorses · 5 months ago

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So I'm thinking of going on low dose T, and ofc I'll get more feedback from doctors when I see them, but I know one of the changes is that you run warmer and have lower heat tolerance, and I'm already kind of heat sensitive (sweating is a sensory ick). Do you or your followers have any kind of coping strategies that have helped with that?

I ran warm before, too, and I'm definitely warmer now! I also have Raynaud's which kind of makes the whole experience a clusterfuck, but that's besides the point. lmao.

I live in a pretty cool/temperate area, so it isn't normally an issue except in the (increasingly horrible) summers, but I've found that the hardest time to stay cool has been at night. I share a bed with my partner who runs even warmer, and it's been 2.5 years of struggling to figure out how to be a comfortable temperature together.

The best advice I can give you is to just stay as far away from synthetic fibers as you can; "sweat wicking" and "cooling" and "athletic" stuff included. It's a lie. They're all plastic, and while they might feel cool to the touch at first, plastic doesn't breathe. It'll trap heat and moisture against your skin after enough time, especially in the form of blankets. (Fuck the Rest Evercool. Worst recommendation I've ever gotten.)

Look for 100% linen, or 100% cotton. I've heard wool also works well, but I haven't had luck with that personally. Woven fabrics are going to be cooler and more breathable than sateen, and waffle weave is like, the single most breathable weave afaik (it's more common in blankets, but some clothes are waffle).

Some of these things can be pretty scratchy at first, and I recommend a couple of washes on a high heat & some fabric softener before you start using them. We were able to break in our waffle blanket super quickly this way! (I know some folks recommend against softener for breathability reasons, but it's the only thing that actually worked for us, and it hasn't impacted breathability). After you break them in, though, cotton and linen fabrics are SUPER soft!

I also recommend staying away from leather. It's natural, but trust me: it's not breathable. It's coveted in outdoor rec spaces BECAUSE it's somewhat waterproof.

Outside of that, I'd really encourage you to lean towards multiple light layers that you can change/remove throughout the day to suit your needs (ex: light tee + fleece + wind/rain layer, maybe throw in a flannel somewhere), instead of one or two heavy ones (ex: shirt + big puffy cold weather jacket). It's a strategy common in the PNW that works great for regulating your temperature when you're dealing with humidity and somewhat unpredictable weather, and imo, it also really translates if you're just generally sensitive to heat and sweat.

Outside of that... depending on where you live, I really recommend having an AC/dehumidifier. Don't bother with trying to rig up a swamp cooler if you're sensitive to sweat- the increased humidity will make things worse. The general advice I heard when researching a good AC was that window units will always be more efficient than portable units (and a mini split is better than either), but if you have to go with a portable unit, go with a dual-hose. They'll be more efficient just because they don't create a vacuum that pulls in warm air from outside. This is the model we settled on- it was really highly recommended and cost effective for what it is, and it's been absolutely fantastic this summer.

Idk how you are about pits, but I wash mine with a benzoyl body wash and then use a deodorant with antiperspirant every day, and I virtually never smell or sweat. 🤷‍♂️ ymmv though

I'm sure folks will have things to add, so check the notes on this post- and good luck!

#advice

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

Text

7.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussion of feelings, nudity, mentions of some sexy stuff.

Word Count: 3.2k

Previously On...: Idk; it's been so long. Who can even remember? Just kidding-- Bucky blew off his plans for a 'friend-date' with Lily to talk to you about what happened that morning.

A/N: And we're back!

Hi, besties! I confess to not getting as much writing done as I had hoped on my break-- cursed writer's block! Then, last night, I ended up scrapping most of the writing I did do and started over, lol. However, I've got a bit of a back log again, and a four day weekend starting tonight, and now that I feel reinvigorated with the story, we'll be able to resume our regularly scheduled program!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

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Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You pulled up to the destination Bucky had sent you as dusk was falling. Langston Park. A weird spot for dinner, you thought, but you’d double-checked the location with Bucky, and he’d assured you that you were in the right place.

Glancing at your map, you noticed that the pin he’d sent you was a little ways up a trail. You parked your truck and double checked your bag to make sure you had your pepper spray at the ready– not that you were afraid that Bucky was going to harm you– just that, a woman alone in the woods at dusk? You could never be too careful. It actually went against your better judgment to go in there at all, but you trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lead you into danger.

If I do come across something unexpected, you thought to yourself, please let it be the bear.

You cautiously made your way up the trail, using the nearly useless flashlight feature on your phone to keep yourself from tripping over anything. It was difficult adjusting your eyesight from the bright light of the map you were following on your phone screen to the darkness gathering around you. After you’d been walking for about fifteen or so minutes, you had to turn left to go off-trail, cutting off your access to the dwindling daylight even more. You gently pushed branches of leaves aside as you made your way through the woods, until you noticed a soft, orange glow coming from up ahead of you.

When you broke through the tree line, your breath caught in your throat. The pin Bucky had sent you had led you to a small clearing nestled along a stream, with a melodious waterfall cascading down into a pool that held a handful of floating lanterns. The entire clearing was lit with hanging lanterns that gently swayed from the branches of the surrounding trees, washing the entire space with low, warm light. Spread out on the ground was a large blanket with some throw pillows, extra blankets, and a picnic hamper. And in the center of the clearing, crouched Bucky. He’d appeared to have just finished setting up his phone to stream some soft music. The entire tableau was the most romantic thing you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” you called softly as you turned your flashlight off, dropped your phone into your bag, and made your way into the clearing.

Bucky stood and turned to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Major, hi,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Did you do all this for me?” you asked in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You could feel a lump form in the back of your throat, and you had to actively tell yourself not to cry. No one had ever done anything so absolutely romantic for you in your entire life. Not once had Connor ever made a fraction of the effort Bucky had made tonight.

Bucky’s face took on a look of panic. “Is it too much?” he asked, nervously glancing around as though he were trying to judge it anew through your eyes to see what you might find wrong with it.

You smiled, reaching for his hand to offer a squeeze of reassurance. “It’s lovely,” you said. “No one has ever done something so amazing for me, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky visibly relaxed at your words. “Figured I owed you something special, to make up for this morning.” He motioned to the blanket, guiding you to sit down with him. “I brought dinner,” he said, opening up the basket. Inside were several subs, a couple of bottles of lemonade, and a few bags of chips. “Sweet onion teriyaki chicken with cucumbers, extra pickles, and red wine vinegar,” Bucky said, handing you a sandwich. You held the sandwich to you for a moment, your chest filling with warmth at the fact that he’d remembered your offhand comment about your favorite sandwich.

You put the wrapped sub down on the blanket in front of you. “Could we talk before we eat?” you asked him. “I’ve got some things I want to clear up first.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, putting down the sandwich he had gotten for himself and looked up at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, sugar,” he said.

You took a breath. “I get why you didn’t tell Lily about me,” you said slowly. “It’s new, and we’re not even really anything. So, what’s there to tell her, really? Plus, she and I didn’t really have the best first impressions of one another, so that part, I understand. What I don’t get is why you felt you needed to lie about being out on a date at all.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you weren’t finished.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I got toward the end of my marriage that went just like the one you had with Lily last night. All the times Connor assured me he was just “out with the boys,” when, in reality, he was with his mistress. So, I guess, hearing you tell Lily you were with Sam for a ‘guys’ night’ was kind of triggering.” You sighed, heaving your shoulders. “I need to know, and I need you to be honest with me: Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that why you felt the need to lie to her about being out with me?”

Bucky shook his head vehemently and made a face of mild disgust. “Major, no– there’s never been anything between us,” he said. “I won’t lie, Lily is very important to me– as a friend– she was the first new one I made in almost eighty years, and she stuck by me when I was going through a really difficult time in my life, when I really hadn’t given her much of a reason to, but in terms of anything romantic, or sexual? Never.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. He seemed sincere, though if you had been a good judge of when a man you had feelings for was lying to your face, your marriage to Connor would probably only have been a fraction as long as it was.

“Alright,” you said, choosing in the moment to believe him, “so, if you’re as close as you say, and there’s nothing romantic between the two of you, it makes it even stranger that you lied to her about being out on a date last night.”

Bucky looked down, toying with a loose thread on the blanket you both sat on. “At the time,” he said, not looking up at you, “not telling her the truth seemed like a good idea. It didn’t really cross my mind that I was lying… more like ‘just not telling her the truth yet.’ I was really looking forward to seeing you again, doll,” he told you, his eyes now rising to meet yours, “ and telling Lil… well, it felt like I was needlessly complicating things."

You let out an exasperated sigh. “None of that explains to me the why behind it, Bucky,” you said. “Why would telling your best friend complicate things?

“I just didn’t want her getting involved in our business before the two of us even knew what our business was,” he said, as if that made everything clear.

“But, shouldn’t your best friend knowing your business be, I dunno, a good thing?” you asked him in frustration, wanting to reach out and shake him. You felt like you were going around in circles. “Shouldn’t she be happy for you?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Of course she’ll be happy for me. It’s just…” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Lily’s always had… opinions about every girl I’ve ever dated, and she’s never made it a point of keeping them to herself. I mean, most of the time, she ends up being spot on, and the relationship flops, but this…” he moved to place his hand over yours where it rested on the blanket, “with you? I wanted to enjoy it before she makes those opinions known.”

You turned your hand over and squeezed his. The full truth of the situation had clicked into place for you at his words, and the realization brought both intense clarity and an all too familiar heartache. “All my life, I’ve been… impulsive,” you told him. “I jump head first into things, without thinking about the consequences. It’s how I got into the Army, ended up with Connor, hell, even how I started my business. Sometimes it works out, but…” you heaved a sigh, “usually it tends to blow up spectacularly in my face. I don’t want this to blow up in my face, Bucky.”

The confusion in Bucky’s face as he took in your words was evident. “What are you saying, doll?” he asked.

You took a moment, considering your next words carefully. “I… I really like you,” you began as a wide grin broke out across his face. “Probably more than I should for a person I just met a few days ago, but the truth of it is, I’ve seen this story play out before, and I’m not sure I could handle opening my heart to you, only to have you leave me for the best friend you swore I’d never have to worry about.”

Bucky took both your hands in his own, a look of desperation crossing his face. “Sugar,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Major. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that I just don’t see Lily that way,” he said. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any dame the way I see you. You’ve got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before.”

His words were sweet, and you felt your heart soften, but you had to remind yourself: you’d heard words just like it before. “Look,” you said, pulling your hands away from his, “maybe you don’t , but it seems pretty obvious, even as an outsider, that her feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I don’t want to lose my heart to you if you’re going to realize that you belong with someone you’ve known for years, instead of a one-night stand that went on for too long.”

Bucky reeled back as if you’d slapped him and closed his eyes in a grimace. “That is never,” he began, a pained expression clouding his handsome face, “ever all that you could be to me, Major.” When he opened them again, his eyes were boring into yours, the blue gone cobalt in the growing night. “I’m not going to wake up one day and decide I want to be with Lily. I’ve had four years in close proximity with her for those feelings to develop, and they never have. I honestly can’t see why that would change, especially now that I’ve met you.”

God, you wanted to believe him, but you’d already played this role and it had nearly destroyed you, despite how nonchalantly you acted about it. “Does she know that, Bucky? Because, to be completely honest with you, on the night we met, both Nat and Wanda advised me not to get involved with you, because of her.”

His face blanched at the admission. “What?! Why would they say that?”

“They warned me,” you clarified, hoping that you weren’t betraying any trust with your new friends and only feeling mildly bad that you were divulging Lily’s secret, “that Lily wasn’t a ‘girl’s girl;’ she was a ‘Bucky’s girl,’ only, you didn’t know it.”

“But she–” he spluttered, “she– we– she never– she’s never said anything. She’s never acted…” He was at a loss for words, and you could tell that the information had genuinely taken him by surprise. Despite what Lily may feel for him, it didn’t seem like he ever suspected it.

“Maybe I should leave you to think that over,” you said, making motions to start standing up. “Thanks for the sandwich.” Before you could even get your legs under you, though, Bucky reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, gently tugging you back down to the blanket. “Why are you leaving?”

You shrugged, confused. “I figured you’d want some time,” you told him. “Decide what you want to do about her feelings.”

Bucky looked at you like you were crazy. “Doll, in what world do any feelings Lily may have about me concern how I feel about you?”

“I just assumed…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“Assumed what? That just because she’s got a crush on me, I’m gonna ignore this thing between you and I? That I’m gonna develop feelings for her, outta nowhere, I might add, and just forget all about you?”

You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” you said.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, shaking his head with a gentle smile and a soft laugh. He put a hand behind your head and pulled you forward until your foreheads were leaning together. “I sincerely mean this when I tell you I don’t give a fuck about Lily’s feelings,” he said.

You both widened your eyes at the perceived callousness of the statement.

“Fuck,” Bucky backpedaled, backing his head away from yours a little “that came out soundin’ awful, and definitely not how I meant it.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Of course I care about her feelings– she’s my friend– I just mean… shit. Just, obviously, I feel bad if me not reciprocatin’ hurts her, but there’s nothin’ I can really do for it, y’know? Because it doesn’t change my feelings, and it’s not gonna change my feelings.

And shit, you believed him.

“You know what?” Bucky said, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. “Here.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out his military dog tags. Lifting them over his head, he slowly draped them around your neck.

“Bucky,” you said, fingering the embossed metal, “what…?”

“Think of it this way,” he said, “you, of all people, know what these tags mean to a soldier. Since I came outta cryo, came back to myself, not a single person has worn them, ‘cept for me. I’ve had girlfriends ask– hell, Lily’s asked– but it never felt right.” He brushed a strand of hair back from where it had fallen into your face when you’d looked down at the tags. “But with you, it feels right. So, if you’re afraid that I’m gonna up and decide that I’d rather be with Lily, or fuck, anyone else but you, I want you to look at those tags and remember that you’re the one I’m picking, Major.”

You swallowed. You did know what those tags meant. Commitment. Trust. An unbreakable bond. Wordlessly, you reached around to the back of your neck, unclasping the chain that rested against your skin.

Bucky watched your motions carefully. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “that was probably me moving too fast, huh? I get it– you don’t have to wear them if—”

“Shut up,” you said gently, as you removed your own dog tags from around your neck and fastened them around his. “I don’t need to wear two sets, and your neck looked so lonely without one.”

Bucky held up one of the tags so that he could examine it, and you caught the moment he registered your name and information catching the candlelight.

“Sugar,” he said, his voice cracking on the nickname.

“You’re not the only one making a choice, Bucky,” you assured him.

He leaned in closer, taking your lips with his own, the kiss filled with the fire you’d come to associate with him, and only him.

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, and you could make out the glassy sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

You admired the way they hung from his neck for a moment, and were overcome with the sudden urge to touch them. You placed a hand over the dog tags, your name, now resting over his pounding heart. Bucky cupped his own hand over yours, pressing it against his chest.

“These look awfully handsome on you, Sergeant,” you told him with a soft smile. Bucky let out a low groan and you looked up at him, eyes questioning. “What is it?” you asked him.

Bucky’s face turned bashful and he shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he said. “Forget it.”

Oh, you weren’t going to have any of that. “Come on, Bucky,” you said, playfully poking him in his rock hard stomach. “You can tell me anything. I’m wearing your tags now,” you added in a singsong voice. “We’re practically going steady.”

Bucky’s gaze on you darkened, and he tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Okay then, if you’re sure you really wanna know.” You mirrored him, biting your lip and nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to know what was going through his head to cause him to make such sexy sounds. “Just imagining what you’d look like wearing nothing but the tags, sugar,” he responded, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Bet it’d be the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Well, if you weren’t going to take that as an invitation. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, you got up so that you were standing before him. Bucky moved forward, as if he were going to follow you up, a question ready on his lips, but you leaned down and gently pushed him back to the blanket, so he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Not once breaking eye contact, you slid your hands to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up, over your head before tossing it to the side. Next, you toed off your shoes while you worked the buttons of your jean shorts, letting them slide down your thighs until you were standing in just your balconette and panties. You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a public park and you were undressing for a man. All that mattered was that you were undressing for this man, and in the moment, you were willing to do almost anything he asked of you.

Bucky’s eyes roamed your body from head to toe and back again, but you weren’t finished. He’d said ‘nothing but the tags,’ after all. Reaching behind your back, you skillfully unhooked your bra, but didn’t pull it off, instead letting it sit on your chest while you slowly shimmined your panties down your thighs and kicking them off to join the rest of your discarded clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched as he took in your near nakedness, and you almost giggled at the visible tenting taking place in his jeans.

Clutching the bra to your chest, as if you were shy, you slowly got down on your knees and crawled up Bucky’s thighs. Finally, you let the bra fall away, and Bucky’s wide eyes never left your breasts as he licked his lips. You palmed him through the fabric of his pants.

“I believe I once said something about wanting this down my throat,” you told him with a wicked smile.

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