#and because she helped me a bit with writing this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

youunravelme · 2 days ago

Text

meant just for you // part one

author's note: long time no see! i'm (somewhat) back! i'm really excited to share this story with everyone, but it wouldn't be possible without bestie girl @thewintersoldierdisaster who has helped me tremendously along the way. thank you so much, p! this is for you :)

summary: you have a history of dating around and hooking up. after seeing your teammates start to settle down, you and mat make a bet to see who can fall in love first.

pairing: mat barzal x pwhl!reader

warnings: mentions of sex (though no actual smut because i can't write that to save my life), cursing, toxic boyfriends

the meeting

being selected for the all star pwhl 3 on 3 showcase was an honor in and of itself, one you didn't take lightly. it was even sweeter since it was held in your hometown, ubs in elmont, new york.

you worked hard to get where you were today, not coming from money. sure your parents would be upper class anywhere else, but on long island? middle class. add on the extra expenses of skating lessons, goalie gear, and club fees on two teachers’ salaries, there wasn’t much cash left over when it was all said and done.

safe to say, your mom and dad shed actual tears when you were drafted to the sirens. whether they were tears of joy or tears of relief (from the fact that they hadn't wasted money on a career that would never be), you weren't sure. they probably would've cried regardless of what team, but knowing you were just across the river was a huge relief for them.

“proud of you squirt,” your dad said into your hair. “it’s time for you to start carrying your own goalie bag and peeling your oranges, now.”

you rolled your eyes. “i've been doing that for years, dad.”

“not the oranges,” your mom chimed in.

you grimaced. “i don't like the feeling of the peel getting under my nails. it’s gross.”

safe to say, you were ecstatic to tell your parents you were playing in the 2026 pwhl showcase. your parents had squeezed you so tightly in a group hug that you were sure some of your ribs cracked.

“you’re gonna be great!” your mom cheered.

“we can rent out our driveway to lazy tourists!” your dad said. you pulled back and gave him a strange look, but he didn't even look the least bit sorry. “i’m trying to earn back all the money i spent on your goalie gear, squirt.”

you'd rolled your eyes at the time, thinking it was just an over exaggeration, but when you saw how bad traffic was in elmont, you were grateful for the reserved parking for players.

you pulled into ubs’ reserved parking area, feeling the excitement hit you all at once.

you were at ubs for the all star red carpet event you'd grown up watching from the rug in front of the tv in your parents’ house. sometime that week, you’d be on the ice instead of watching the islanders from the stands like you had the last few years. you grew up down the street, and later that week, you would play on that ice in front of thousands of hockey fans.

you could feel the excitement singing in your veins, you were bouncing on your toes, tapping your feet in your heels as you got out of the car. you straightened your teal patterned pant suit and black corset top, before pulling your phone out of your pocket.

you: are you here yet?

you texted jessie eldridge, not sure if she arrived with everyone else. for the first time ever, you were running late. the anxiety (and probably the undiagnosed adhd) meant you spent more time fretting at your parents’ house than you anticipated, hence why you were arriving at the very end of the pwhl segment of the red carpet.

you’d have to apologize to your agent later.

now that you’d arrived, more anxiety started setting in. the cruel, self deprecating words inhabiting your brain told you to go home, that you didn't belong among “real hockey players.”

jess: not yet. pulling up now! traffic is insane!!!

you sighed and tried to touch up your lipstick in the reflection of your car window while telling yourself mentally that you could be brave, you could do hard things. you were the starting goalie on one of the six inaugural teams in the professional women’s hockey league, you were used to fear, or not feeling like enough. there was a reason you didn't check the comments on tiktok or instagram, or the replies on tweets after the games. people were cruel.

despite the shaking in your knees, despite the anxiety threatening to swallow you whole, you remembered the tears in your parents eyes when you got drafted, the hugs they gave you after each game.

you remembered the little girls you'd seen in the crowd with signs and your jersey on. that had to mean something, even if there were sexist pigs out there who didn't.

before you started walking, another car pulled into the parking lot and parked a few spaces away. you paused, recognizing the car, and waited for your teammate to get out.

jess eldridge popped out of her car, smiling wide as soon as she saw you. “long time, no see,” she joked, considering you saw her earlier that morning for practice. her eyes widened as she took in your outfit. “jesus fucking christ,” she said. “tryna get laid tonight?”

you grinned like a child and waited for her to catch up before you both started walking towards the red carpet. “we’re at a work function, jess,” you chided, knowing good and well that had never stopped you before. “how was the drive?”

jess shrugged. “traffic was not fun, you're lucky your parents live around here.”

“did everyone else ride on the bus?”

“they did if they’re from out of town.” jess pulled out her phone and checked the time. “i think we might be the last ones here. which, i’m always late, but you being late is unheard of.”

you shrugged. “i figured i could be late this one time. i’m early to every other event.”

the two of you walked towards the fan area, smiling as the noise levels increased. you started bouncing on your feet once more, grinning from ear to ear.

there were little girls who gasped when they saw you both. you pointed out a little redhead wearing jess’ jersey and the two of you quickly made your way to her.

sharpies were being pushed in your line of sight, it felt like there were so many people yelling at once. the announcer said your name, followed by jessie’s. little girls were asking for your autographs, social media interns were interviewing sarah nurse and emma maltais, there were random cheers at random intervals.

it was overwhelming.

somewhere along the autograph lines, you lost sight of all the other girls, only realizing when you looked up from yet another jersey and noticed you were standing alone.

an assistant called your name and gestured you down the line to take a few photos. you were on your way when a shoulder hit yours and nearly sent you sprawling on the ground had it not been for a firm grip around your bicep.

you glanced to your left and saw a man with a dazzling smile you knew all too well through the screen of your parents’ tv and your social media.

mat barzal.

“sorry,” he grinned. “didn't see you there.”

you weren't sure how, you two were standing eye to eye, it wasn’t like you were as short as emma, you were pretty tall, even without your heels on.

“oh,” you said. “you're mat.”

he nodded and stuck his hand out to shake before saying your name. you must've looked surprised because he laughed when he dropped his hand from yours and gestured to you. “you play for the sirens, right? goalie?”

you smiled and nodded before an attendant was ushering you down the carpet. you fully expected him to wave bye, but he kept up.

“you watch our games?” you asked.

he nodded again. “went back and watched the shut out you had against montreal. it was impressive, especially going against poulin.”

you beamed under his praise, remembering the amount of times you tapped the goalposts for blocking shots you couldn't or the twelve cherry starbursts you ate before the start of the game like you’d done since you were seven.

the game before, you only had eleven and lost by two goals. you weren't taking any chances anymore.

another attendant rushed you to stand in front of the banner to take your photo. mat caught up with you again after his picture was taken. “it’s nice to meet you,” you started when he was close enough to hear you. “my parents love you.” you blinked. “i mean, i grew up with islanders fans for parents.”

mat’s eyebrows rose, a small smirk on his lips. “really?”

you smiled. “grew up right down the street actually.”

he gave a low whistle. “bet that’s convenient.”

“my dad joked that he was gonna rent out the driveway to lazy tourists.”

mat threw his head back and laughed as the two of you continued down the carpet, stopping to sign autographs along the way.

“your teammates here yet?” he asked.

“i was definitely like the last one to arrive. jessie eldridge showed up around the same time but i don’t see her...” you noted for the first time that you'd lost her somewhere along the way. “whoops,” you said. “are any of your teammates here? is sorokin?”

“big fan?” mat snickered.

but your mind was already moving on. your eyes widened as you grabbed the sleeve of mat’s suit. “oh my god, is patrick roy gonna be here?”

he shook his head, still grinning like an idiot. “he’s taking the bye week to ignore our phone calls.”

you huffed.

the closer you got to the end of the red carpet, the more you realized you were going to have to leave mat, the handsome stranger who wasn't really much of a stranger considering how much you knew about him already.

he was starting to get tugged in different metaphorical directions by the fans reaching out for an autograph while it was obvious your popularity was nowhere near his.

“i’ll see you later,” you said.

mat’s brows pulled together. “you're leaving?”

you jabbed a thumb over your shoulder. “gotta catch up with the girls before the game tonight.”

“you feel good about it?”

your fingers twitched against your legs with more excited energy as you backed away from him, a smile on your face as you shook your head. “uh uh, nope. i don't talk about the game before the game, goes against my beliefs.”

mat cackled. “i’ll see you around, good luck!”

you spun on your heel and walked off the carpet. you walked until you saw familiar faces. emma and jess were standing at the end, looking at you and smiling as they talked among themselves.

“when i asked if you were planning on getting laid tonight, i didn't think you were going to go after barzal,” jess laughed.

you shoved her shoulder good naturedly. “we just ran into each other.”

emma snickered and shook her head. “he's hotter than all the other guys you've hooked up with, twitchy. why not give it a shot?”

it was true, you and emma went to ohio state together before being drafted to two separate teams. she was your roadie roommate and often saw the guys you'd swiped right on.

she was also the one who gave you what some might consider the offensive nickname of twitch.

“you keep spazzing out and twitching before games,” she noted.

“i’m practicing my eye and hand movements,” you said before popping a red starburst in your mouth.

you rolled your eyes but a smile was still on your face. “i don't hook up with hockey players.”

“why not? they’d be the perfect match, they'd understand your schedule, the intensity of the game. they could make a great boyfriend...” jess replied.

but you shook your head. “hookups are the only relationship i can commit to right now. i’ve got too much else going on. and hooking up with a hockey player just seems like bad news.”

emma and jess shrugged before you followed the two of them to your seats.

winter olympics - milan

the lack of travelling you did for the all star week was made up when you flew to milan for the winter olympics. it was a beautiful city to be in, no doubt about it. though, by the time you got to your room, you weren't interested in doing anything but collapsing face first into your bed. the six hour time difference and the flight immediately after all star weekend was starting to catch up with you.

safe to say, you felt like death heated up.

you shared a room with alex carpenter, your alternate captain. you loved alex like the older sister you never had, she was the picture perfect roommate.

except you were staring at her sleeping body like a weirdo because you were wide awake. how the hell had she fallen asleep so fast? it felt like your body was still in new york.

you finally accepted that you weren't going to sleep anytime soon, and instead of scrolling on tiktok and waiting for sleep to hit you in the face (and risk waking alex up), you grabbed your phone, your bag, and headed outside towards the dining hall.

it wasn't too long of a trek, though you were wishing you'd put on more than a pullover and leggings when the wind blew too hard. when you finally made it in the dining hall, your cheeks were both warm from the blood rushing to them, and cold from the wind.

you looked around the large room, for what, you weren't sure. maybe it was for people you knew, or the food options, but you had red starbursts in your bag so you weren't too concerned on the food front. still, you wandered around, looking at the food anyway, just to see if anything piqued your interest.

you'd gotten to the dessert section when a mop of dark brown hair caught your attention. at first, you weren't sure if it was him, so you approached him in a way one might back away from a lion in the safari: slowly. it wasn’t until you saw his jawline and profile that you knew for sure

mat barzal had a stack of cannolis on his plate when you moseyed up next to him.

“i feel like four cannolis at two in the morning is a bit excessive.”

to his credit, mat didn't jump when you spoke. “leave me alone, we burn like thousands of calories doing this shit.” he piled another cannoli on his plate before turning on his heel and searching for what you assumed was a table (and hopefully not more food). “what're you doing up?”

“my brain says it’s only 8pm. i didn't wanna wake alex with my doom scrolling,” you said as you followed him to a table.

mat set his plate down and pulled out his chair, gesturing to the one across from him for you to sit. “jet lag is a bitch,” he said. his head tilted when he saw the bag you placed in the chair next to you. “what’s in the bag?” he asked before taking a bite of one of his cannolis.

your eyes lit up as you smiled. “glad you asked.” you reached in and pulled out a starburst stick before ripping the top of it off with your teeth. you frowned when a pink one fell out. “dammit,” you grumbled, letting the pink starburst rest on the table. “pink is the worst.”

mat eyed you and the starburst for a moment before reaching for it. he unwrapped the paper and popped it into his mouth.

you did a little dance in your seat when the next starburst was red. it took no time for you to unwrap it and pop it into your mouth much like mat did with the pink one.

mat stared as he took a sip of his water. “is there something i’m missing? bringing a whole ass bag for just one thing of starbursts seems a little excessive.”

“you are correct,” you said, a smug smile on your face as you reached into your bag and pulled out a box. “i’m actually glad i ran into you. i was hoping i’d get to use this while i was here.”

mat blinked. “you brought battleship to the olympics?”

you nodded eagerly. “wanna play?”

mat sighed and shook his head, a smile on his face anyway. “you're so weird.”

maybe it should've hurt your feelings, but you'd been called weird all your life, this was no different. you shrugged. “maybe, but you didn't answer the question.

mat stared for a minute before pushing his plate aside. “no cheating.”

by 3am, you'd beaten mat twice and were on your way to your third win. “a7,” you said.

mat rolled his eyes and groaned. “you're definitely cheating. there’s no fucking way you're not.”

you laughed and fell back into your seat. “how would i cheat, mat?”

“i—i don't fucking know!” he sputtered and pointed an accusatory finger. “but i know you’re doing it! no one is ever this good at this stupid fucking game.”

“i played a lot as a kid,” you said like it was an explanation. “sometimes by myself.”

“how the hell did you play with yourself?”

you snickered, the joke was coming out of your mouth before you could stop it. “vibrators exist, you know.”

mat looked at you like you'd grown another head before bursting into laughter. “i fucking hate you,” he managed to squeeze out between wheezes. “you win.”

you giggled a little at his reaction, preening at the attention. “what do i get for winning?

mat slid the plate across the table to you. “pick a cannoli, any cannoli.”

you looked at the cream filled pastry, the way most of the cream had cooled to room temp and lost its volume, looking rather melted and unappealing. you twisted your face into a look of disgust. “i beat your ass three times and all i get is melted cannoli?

mat rolled his eyes, though the small smile on his lips betrayed his fake annoyance. “what do you want?”

you thought about it, thought back to the last few weeks, and what the next two weeks would look like. “you have to peel my oranges for the rest of the olympics.”

“...that's not a euphemism, is it?”

you cracked a smile. “no, i don't hook up with hockey players. my dad would peel my oranges because i hate the way the peel feels under my nails and oranges are my favorite fruit so it poses quite the problem.”

“so whenever i see you with an orange, i’ll peel it for you?”

you nodded.

he nodded and stuck his hand out. “you've got yourself a deal.”

you didn't see mat until two days later when you ran into him at the figure skating pairs event. well, “ran into” might be a bit dramatic. in reality, you were sitting in the stands with alex and emma when an unfamiliar (yet growing more familiar) body plopped down next to you.

before you could even react, a peeled orange in a ziploc bag appeared in your line of sight. “want it?” mat asked.

your eyes lit up when you saw it, your hands immediately reached out for the bag. “oh my god, i’m starving.” you did your best to not snatch the bag from his hands in your hunger, but you shoved three pieces in your mouth almost immediately after opening the bag.

mat cackled. “were you hungry?”

“starving,” you said through a mouthful of fruit.

emma laughed from her spot next to you. “oh my god. did anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”

you shrugged. “i don't know, men are usually too busy getting the best head of their life to complain.”

alex choked while emma threw her head back laughing. mat froze next to you.

“you’re insane, twitch,” emma managed to say between laughs. “absolutely batshit.”

but you shrugged and kept eating your oranges.

“twitch?” mat said after a moment. “who’s twitch?”

you raised your hand like you were sitting at a desk at school. “that’s me,” you said after swallowing more oranges.

mat blinked. “why?”

emma piped in. “in college, she would look like she was twitching—”

“—i was practicing my hand and eye movements—”

“—in college?” alex interrupted. “she still does it.”

“and hence the name twitch was born,” emma concluded.

you rolled your eyes and looked at mat. “they're exaggerating.”

he only smiled and shrugged. “more creative than our nicknames.”

“well, the bar’s in hell then,” you said.

“barzy! we gotta go!” all four of you looked over and saw bo horvat standing at the end of the aisle, gesturing for mat to get up.

mat, to his credit, looked a little sorry to leave, even as he stood up. “i’ll see you around, twitch,” he said.

your friends, to their credit, waited until he was out of sight to start elbowing and shoving you around.

“he brought you a peeled orange? how did he even know to do that?” emma pestered.

once again, you rolled your eyes. “it was my reward when i beat him in battleship.”

“battleship? when did you have time to play that?” alex asked.

“the other night when i couldn't fall asleep.”

“are you gonna hook up with him?” emma bounced in her seat, her blonde hair falling around her face.

“i don't hook up with hockey players,” you said. “too close to home. besides, there are plenty of men to sleep with while i’m here.”

you found yourself making out with (and fucking) a french snowboarder before the night was over. he wasn't bad, he used a lot of tongue, that was certain. which begged the question: was it a french kiss in france? or was it just a kiss? you'd never know, you forgot to ask him.

alex was getting in bed by the time you got back to the room, your hair mussed and lips swollen. “eventful night?” she asked.

you shrugged and changed into your pajamas. “you could say that.”

“how was he?”

“sloppy kisser. how’s steph?” you asked.

a smile you could only describe as soft graced alex’s lips. “great, we spoke an hour ago. she told me to tell you good luck.”

“she’s so sweet.” you groaned as you fell back into your bed. “none of the guys i’ve been with have ever been that nice.”

the room was silent, yet so loud. “twitchy,” alex started. “they're hook ups, not boyfriends.”

you sat up in bed and looked at alex. “what do you mean?”

“hook ups have no emotional investment, twitch. why would they care if you did well or not?” she asked. and the truth stung a little, you weren't going to lie about that. after a beat of silence, she continued. “could it be possible the hook ups aren't enough anymore?”

you shrugged and fell against the bed. “i don’t know,” you groaned. “it’s not even like the sex is good anymore. i mean, it’s not bad, but it’s like i have to give a beginner’s lesson every time.”

“that is a benefit of a committed relationship. you're not starting over every time you have sex.”

you turned your head and saw how alex was scrolling on your phone. you weren't sure how she could do it when you were having a slight crisis. “but i don't know that i have time for a boyfriend and hockey. how the hell am i supposed to manage that?”

alex turned to look at you. “if he wants to be with you, and if you want to be with him, you both will find a way to make it work. but you have to get over this fear of commitment for it to work.”

you turned back to look at the ceiling and said nothing.

alex fell asleep shortly after your conversation ended like she didn't just wreck your worldview. and like a few nights ago, you got up and went to the dining hall, except this time without battleship or your bag of starbursts.

you should've been surprised when you saw mat again, but instead of focusing on why he was stuffing his face with cannoli, you just plopped into the chair across from him.

“do you ever wanna settle down?”

mat coughed and choked on a cannoli. “w—what? with you?”

you rolled your eyes. “no, just in general. aren't most of your teammates married? do you ever want that?”

he swallowed and nodded, taking a sip of water before speaking. “i mean yeah, eventually. why?”

you fell back into your chair and sighed. “i feel like my friends expect me to grow up at some point. i mean i’m almost thirty, shouldn't i be committed to someone by now?”

he shrugged. “i don't know, should you?”

“don't your teammates ask you about that?”

“i don't know, maybe. but i just ignore them.”

“you do?”

“...no. okay? no. it gets to me too. but it is what it is. i can’t manage hockey and—”

“—dating, right?”

he nodded.

“what if we made a deal?”

“a deal?” he leaned in. “i’m listening.”

“you and i, we both want to stop being single, right?”

“right.”

“but we’re athletes, we’re competitive. so what if we made this a competition?”

mat took a bite of cannoli. “so what’re you thinking?”

“first person to fall in love wins. we try dating around and finding our people but the first person to fall in love wins.”

mat’s eyes widened. “just like that? we’re going from an inability to commit to falling in love?”

you nodded eagerly. “it’s like exposure therapy! grabbing the bulls by the horns.” you inhaled.

“what does the winner get?”

you hummed. “a favor that can be cashed in at any time.” he nodded, looking lost in thought. “so what do you think? are you in?” you stuck your hand out, ready for him to shake it, but anticipating that he won't.

a moment passed. mat ran a hand down his face. “god i must be desperate,” he mumbled before he shook your hand. “i’m in.”

guy one: paul

you were soaked in sweat and your lungs were burning. with the water bottle attached to the back of the goal, you sprayed yourself in the face, the cold liquid doing wonders to cool you off.

you skated off the ice and towards the locker rooms. you shucked your jersey and chest protector off almost immediately.

“you in a rush, twitchy?” jess said from her locker across the room. “hot date?”

“maybe,” you replied.

truth be told, yes. you were meeting this guy named paul that you met on hinge. he seemed nice enough. granted, the bar was in hell. “nice enough” was the result of him not sending you a dick pick within the first three texts. he had yet to send an inappropriate text or photo, which gave you a little bit of hope.

so when you looked at your phone, you expected to see a message from him. but it was mat’s name on your home screen.

mat barzal: what time is your date tonight?

after that night in the dining hall, you and mat exchanged numbers. it was his idea, saying it’d be better if the two of you didn't leave meeting up to chance anymore. you'd hardly call meeting at two work events “chance” but you weren't going to protest.

you: 7, why?

you continued undressing until you were just in a pair of spandex shorts and a sirens shirt.

mat barzal: just curious.

mat barzal: you ready to hang it up?

you: hang what up?

mat barzal: your hoe stage. may she rest in peace.

a snort came out before you could even think to stop it.

you: i’ll hang mine up if you do the same.

mat barzal: i thought that was the deal.

you liked the message and locked your phone.

jess slid into the spot next to you and tried to peer over your shoulder. “what’re your plans for tonight?”

you shrugged and began untying your skates. “hinge date.”

her eyes widened as she smirked. “ooo with who? the mystery man you were texting?”

you rolled your eyes. “no, that was just barzal.”

it was almost like someone had used a clorox wipe on jess’ face, because any trace of her smugness was gone in a flash. “barzal? barzal who? barzal as in mat barzal of the new york islanders?”

you blinked. “yep.”

her jaw dropped. “when did you get his number? is he the one you're going on a date with?”

as if the word “date” was a beacon in the night, every single one of your teammates’ heads turned your way. “you have a date tonight, twitchy?” ella shelton asked. “who is it?”

“mat barzal!” jess replied quicker than you could.

it was silent for just a moment before a million questions were fired your way. since when were you dating him? how did you two meet? when was your first date? is this your first date? why didn't you tell us?

“we’re not dating,” you said over the noise.

“then why is he texting you?” ella asked.

“because we made a bet.” the girls leaned in. “whoever falls in love first, and by proxy gets someone else to fall in love with them, wins.”

alex carpenter blinked. “why?”

you blinked back. “why what?”

“why make it a competition? i thought you weren't interested in dating?”

you glanced around the room, most of your teammates were in committed long term relationships with someone and those who weren't had just gotten out of one. then there was you, and maybe one or two other stragglers left to go bar hopping with the potential of taking someone home.

sleeping around was fun, but maybe you were ready for someone to understand you, to not laugh when you say you love sleeping in socks. you were tired of falling asleep with cold feet anytime you wanted the other side of your bed warm.

but how could you say that? a post practice gossip session was not really the place you wanted to lay your heart bare.

“maybe i just wanted some consistency.” you gestured to alex. “i mean, i see steph at nearly every game. it would be nice to have someone show up for me other than my parents.”

the mass interrogation dispersed not long after that confession, with you heading off to the showers before heading home to your one bedroom jersey apartment. to pass time, you took a nap while watching gilmore girls.

you met paul at the chipotle not too far from prudential. he suggested it and though you'd had chipotle plenty of times that week, you agreed because it was easy enough.

you filled your bowl with your usual and watched as he only got chicken and white rice. part of you tried to brush it off by thinking maybe he had food allergies, but why would he suggest a place where he couldn't eat most of anything on the menu?

he picked a table in the middle of the restaurant, which was also odd, but you went along with it. he was already seated and mixing his dry ass bowl together by the time you made it to the table with your drink.

it was weird, you'd admit. it wasn't like you expected him to pull your chair out for you, but you did at least expect him to wait until you sat down to start eating. maybe his family was different than yours.

“so,” you started as you mixed your bowl with your fork. “what do you like to do for fun?”

god you were horrible at this.

he shrugged and stuffed his mouth full of rice and chicken. “i’ve been reading rich dad poor dad.”

oh god. he was even worse at this than you were.

okay, okay, maybe this date could still be saved. “so you like to read?”

paul shrugged again. “sometimes.”

you blinked and took a bite of your burrito bowl while you waited for him to ask you a question.

he kept munching on his chicken and rice.

“so,” you started. “do you have any hobbies?”

“running.”

more silence.

“what do you do for work?”

“i’m an accountant.”

you stabbed your bowl with a little fierceness, but tried to taper your frustration. “i play in the pwhl.”

you waited and watched, hoping if he didn't understand what you did, that he'd at least try to act interested. but he just kept eating.

“have you ever run a marathon?” you asked.

“no.”

the date continued on like that, your questions answered followed by painful silences that served to exacerbate how one sided the whole experience was. at the end, he stood up to throw his things away without saying a word. you followed, because you were ready to say goodbye and end the disaster you were ashamed to call a date (god you can’t believe you shaved for this).

the two of you stood on the sidewalk, letting people move around you.

“we should do this again. this was fun,” he said.

and without even thinking about it, you said, “was it?”

paul blinked. “why wouldn't it have been?”

you laughed until you saw he didn't join in. “oh,” you stopped, “you're serious.”

paul just stared like nothing had happened. before meeting him, you weren't sure what a blank stare looked like, but after seeing it on his face, you could safely say the lights were on but no one was home.

“paul, you didn't ask me a single question, the only reason we didn't sit in silence was because of me.”

he blinked like he was getting paid to do it. honestly, at that point in the night, it seemed to be the only thing he did.

“you have nothing to say?” when he didn't respond fast enough, you rolled your eyes. “bye paul.”

before you could stop yourself, you started the drive to elmont to see your parents. you could go back to your apartment tomorrow, but you really needed to touch grass after that date, even if it was the small yard behind your parents’ house.

you were at a stoplight five minutes from your parents’ home when your phone rang.

mat barzal.

you squinted at your phone but picked up anyway. “hello?”

“hey! are you currently at a stoplight?”

that was an odd coincidence. “yeah?”

“about two blocks from ubs?”

“...yeah.”

“okay cool, i see you.”

you look around alarmed until you saw a hand waving in the car next to you. you couldn't help the smile on your lips when you saw him sitting in the car to your left. his phone pressed to his ear with one hand, his other waving at you. “what the fuck are you doing out and about?”

mat jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, like he was pointing at ubs’ general direction. “just had a game. you? i didn't think you lived on the island.”

“visiting my parents. i need to touch grass, my date was rough.”

mat grimaced.

the light turned green and you half expected him to hang up, but he kept the call going. “what happened?”

“i would’ve rather watched paint dry than relive that date again. he was the most boring person i think i’ve ever met. i asked him questions and he'd give me one or two word answers and then wouldn't ask me anything. and then at the end of the night, he said we should go out again because it was ‘fun.’ and then he had the audacity to be surprised when i told him it wasn't!”

“how boring could he possibly have been?”

you groaned. “his order at chipotle was white rice and chicken.”

“and what else?” mat asked.

“that’s it. that’s the only thing he ordered.”

“oh my god.”

“and he reads fucking rich dad poor dad for fun i guess. and he likes to go running. he’s also an accountant, but don't ask me for any more information because i think he’s allergic to details.”

mat cackled through the phone. “what was his name again?”

“paul.”

“hate to break it to ya, twitch. with a name like paul, you really should've expected it.”

before you could stop it, a laugh bubbled out of your chest. “that’s super judgmental.”

“and maybe if you were as judgy as me, you wouldn't have gone on a date with the human equivalent of wet cement.”

you turned your blinker on and got into the turning lane for your parents’ neighborhood. “not all of us can be as discerning as you.”

“hey, if you wanna run your hinge matches by me next time, i’ll gladly provide my expertise, free of charge.”

“i’ll keep that in mind for next time, barzy. thanks for listening to me bitch.”

the smile on his face was audible when he spoke to you. “anytime, twitch, anytime.”

guy two: nathan

the second date only happened after an extensive vetting process, aka sending screenshots and screen recordings of hinge profiles to mat and jess (in separate threads of course. there was no way you were starting a group chat with the both of them).

jess had been more forgiving than mat had, which surprised you. she pointed out her fair share of red flags, but it was nothing compared to mat’s.

mat met you outside sweetgreen where you went inside to collect your mobile orders. to his credit, he did have a beanie (for once, it wasn’t islanders related) and sunglasses on in a sorry attempt to not be spotted. it was clear the attempt didn’t work because there were two kids asking for autographs when you came out.

you stayed back far enough where it wasn’t obvious you were with him and waited for the kids to leave with their parents.

“i swear i’m not trying to attract attention,” he mumbled to you when the coast was clear.

you handed him his order and rolled your eyes. “you're one of the most recognizable faces on long island, and you thought a beanie and sunglasses would save you?”

he shrugged before popping a pickle chip in his mouth and started walking down the sidewalk. “do you have any updated matches you wanna show me?”

without even responding, you handed mat your unlocked phone.

“oh immediately no,” mat said, looking at some guy named jonathan.

“what's wrong with him?” you asked, peering over his shoulder.

mat flashed your phone at you for a brief second. “he has a neck beard!

you grabbed your phone and looked at the photos again. huh, you hadn't noticed that before. “he can shave it!”

it was mat’s turn to roll his eyes. “he posted that picture because he thought he looked good in it, he's not shaving that fuckass beard.” he continued swiping through your matches and scoffed at most of them.

“this one has too many group photos, and i guarantee you, he's not the guy you think he is.”

two minutes later, mat scoffed and said fishing photos were a bad sign.

“it’s just fishing.”

but mat shook his head and offered no explanation. “didn't your friends tell you these things?”

“jess and ella were looking at the answers and content more than photos, i think they’re concerned about my safety.”

“and neckbeard passed the test?” mat’s eyebrows practically raised into his hairline. “twitch you are way too hot to be dating neckbeards and men whose only personality is fishing.”

“how is that fair to them? my only personality is hockey!”

you stumbled over the uneven sidewalk before mat’s hand steadied you by your elbow.

“try to stay on your feet, twitch.”

you stopped walking long enough to give him a look of disbelief. “i know you're not talking to me about staying on my feet. you fall down like four times each period.”

part of you expected mat to get defensive, but he smirked instead. “aw, you watch my games?”

you glowered and kept walking.

that was two days ago. you were currently getting ready to go on a date with nathan who had (somehow) managed to be approved by your board of trustees as mat called them. ella, jess, and mat couldn't seem to agree on anyone collectively until you matched with nathan.

he graduated from penn state law before he moved back to new york. he was the oldest of three boys and had played football since he was a kid. he doesn't play anymore now, you figured, but still got together with his friends at least once a month to play in prospect park.

it seemed like a good fit. ella pointed out how having friends was a good sign. jess said that he seemed to be passionate about his line of work and lighthearted. and judging by the dms you’d been sending each other, nathan was also way more charismatic and entertaining than paul, which was a win.

you met him at a coffee shop in manhattan, he didn't pull your chair out but he did stand when you walked over with your coffee in hand. which was fine, you weren’t old fashioned or anything, it was more than paul had done.

“hey,” he greeted with a thousand watt smile.

dear god, he was handsome.

it’s okay, you told yourself, you had marie philip-poulin shoot pucks at you a million times before, and she was way scarier than any man.

“hi,” you smiled back.

the two of you took your seats.

“hi,” he said again. “you look great!”

“you do too, handsome, i mean.”

he nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “what did you order?”

“mocha frappe,” you smiled. his face pinched in a small frown before it was covered up with yet another smile. “what about you?”

“americano,” he said. “i like it bitter.” he took a sip. “so i saw you're a fan of hockey, what’s your team?”

“oh, i’m actually a professional hockey player,” you gently corrected. “so, my go to team is the new york sirens, but if we’re talking nhl, my parents are huge islanders fans so i’ve been pulling for them as long as i can remember.”

his eyes lit up. “oh cool! i didn’t know you were a professional hockey player, i wasn’t aware they had a league for women now.”

“yeah! the inaugural season was last year, but we didn’t have official team names until this year.” you took a sip of your frappe. “what about you? do you follow the nfl closely? i know your profile said you played football.”

he smiled sheepishly. “unfortunately, i’ve been a jets fan since birth.”

you grimaced. “yikes...”

“take pity on me, i’ve been through a lot, my trust is damaged.”

you snorted before you could even think to stop yourself. your eyes widened as you made eye contact with nathan whose shocked face did nothing for your confidence. an apology was about to come out of your mouth before he changed the topic and pretended like nothing happened.

the rest of the date went so well, you exchanged numbers at the end of the afternoon. it was a little odd when you saw his phone, it looked older than you thought it should’ve, but maybe he was an old soul and didn't want the newest iphone just because he could have it.

on the second date, a week later, you met up on your side of the hudson. you were fresh from practice while nathan took his lunch break to see you.

his phone kept buzzing on the table, but he brushed them off as work emails, which made sense. he was a lawyer, he probably had hundreds of emails to answer on a regular basis. when his phone started ringing, he held it kind of awkwardly in a way where you couldn't see who was calling. he held a finger up at you and excused himself from the table.

you watched as he paced up and down the sidewalk, confused as to why he was so agitated. sure, you hadn’t known nathan long, but he didn't seem to be the type to frustrate easily.

your own phone vibrated on the table, and since nathan was on a phone call, you checked it.

mat barzal: when are you free next? i have raya matches and i need a girl’s perspective.

you: don't you have teammates?

mat barzal: they’re all practically married.

you: i’m failing to see the disqualifications

mat barzal: they’re all dudes, they don't know what they're talking about

you: and i do?

mat barzal: you’re a girl, aren't you?

you: i’m not even going to dignify that with a response

mat barzal: photo attachment

when you opened the text, it was a picture of what you assumed was child mat in hockey gear.

mat barzal: would you say no to this face?

you: i’m on a date, but when it ends, i’ll call you.

mat barzal: :)

nathan came back in, looking more flushed than usual. “everything okay?” you asked.

“huh? oh, yeah, just a work thing.”

you blinked. “seemed a bit intense for work...”

he shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. “it’s just a lawyer thing.”

the lunch continued for another twenty minutes before he rushed off saying he had to get back to work. he pressed a sweet but brief kiss to your lips and promised to call you.

there was no reason to not believe him.

as you walked out of the restaurant, you pulled up mat’s contact and called him. he picked up on the second ring.

“hey! are you free?” he asked.

“just left my date.”

“oh...sorry, did i interrupt?”

you smiled despite yourself at the slight apologetic tone in his voice. “no barzy, you did not, he had to go back to work.”

“oh...so you’re free? right now?”

“yep, just headed back to my apartment. do you wanna come over?”

“yeah, just send me your address.”

an hour later, you were buzzing mat up to your apartment. he immediately started scrutinizing the space. it wasn't much, probably nothing like he was used to considering the giant salary gap between the two of you, but it was lived in. your grandmother’s quilt lay across the back of the couch you saved for. you'd thrifted the floor lamp and the rug (and the money you saved on it went to getting it professionally cleaned). on the coffee table was a candy jar full of only red starburst, the others were in a gallon sized ziploc bag in your pantry.

“cozy,” mat said.

“i know it’s not much—”

“do you like living here?” he asked.

you nodded.

“that’s what matters. that it feels like home.” he pulled his phone out and pulled up raya. “can you help me with this? the guys keep mentioning wife material and telling me i’m not gonna meet a wife on a dating app.”

you rolled your eyes. “your teammates have also been dating their wives since high school so i wouldn't take everything they say so seriously.” your thumbs began scrolling through his matches, taking mental notes of the girls flying across the screen. “not this girl,” you said, showing him a picture of a red head.

mat’s eyes widened. ”what? why? she volunteers at the animal shelter!”

“taking a picture at the animal shelter and volunteering at the animal shelter are two different things. besides, it’s the fact that all her group photos are with guys, not a single girl spotted.”

“so? she says she's one of the guys.”

“and in girl words, that means she’s dealing with a lot of internalized misogyny and might be a pick me. she’d probably see any woman in your life as a threat.”

“huh.”

“and this girl,” you showed him another one of your matches. “she seems nice, but if you look in the background of one of her photos, there’s a rangers jersey on the floor.”

mat physically recoiled like you'd just slapped him.

“but the other girls seem fine, especially this grace girl, she seems cool.”

“thanks, twitch,” mat said reaching for his phone.

you picked yours off the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. “wanna watch a movie?”

mat nodded and watched as you put on the mighty ducks. sure it was a bit on the nose and the two of you had already been submerged enough in hockey culture, but you were ready to turn your brain off and just be a kid again. besides, the two of you would probably end up scrolling on your phones most of the time anyway.

you opened instagram and saw a dm notification from an account you didn't follow. hesitantly, you clicked on the message and promptly felt you stomach drop to your ankles.

hey girl, the message started. the guy you’ve been seeing, nathan, is my fiancé, we’ve been dating since high school. i would really appreciate if you ended things with him.

“oh my god,” you mumbled.

“what? have you never seen this movie before? it always starts like this,” mat laughed. his laugh stopped short when you showed him the message. “shit.”

“yeah,” you said. “shit.”

mat’s girl one: lauren

the final buzzer sounded, signifying the end of the game, a 4-2 win over toronto at prudential. alex skated over to you first, wrapping you in a hug and patting your helmet. “good job, twitchy,” she smiled. your other teammates followed suit.

jess was last, embracing you as tightly as she could with both of your pads in the way. she skated alongside you back to the locker room. while you loved being one of the three stars of the game, you were glad you weren't chosen that night because nothing sounded better than showering and going home.

after the game debrief in the locker room, you rushed to the showers to scrub the layers of sweat off your body. only when you felt human again, did you get dressed into your sirens sweatsuit. sure, maybe you should've put your cute outfit on again, but you could already feel how exhausted your body was and couldn't imagine putting on an underwire bra and real pants after the game you just had.

on your way to your car, you checked your phone for the first time since getting to the arena. your mom and dad were the first texts you saw, both apologizing for not being able to make the game tonight and inviting you over to dinner the next night.

the most recent text was from emma maltais who told you to let her score next time just because you used to be on the same team in college. after all, weren’t you both forever buckeyes?

but it was the fourteen texts from mat that caught your eye. they all ranged in length with most of them being short exclamations and questions. the last text just read:

mat barzal: can you call me asap? i think i’m losing my mind.

as soon as you got in your car, you called him.

he picked up on the second ring.

“do i need to go to college?” he asked immediately.

what. the fuck.

“huh?” was the only intelligent response you could give him.

“do i need to go to college?”

“mat, what the fuck are you talking about?”

a loud sigh echoed through your phone as you pulled out of the parking lot. “you know how i went on a date tonight?”

“yeah, with that lauren girl, right?”

“mhm, have you read any of the texts i sent you? i feel like that would make more sense.”

“i’m driving right now, i just saw your text asking me to call you, i hadn't had time to go through the rest of them. why? what happened? was she secretly a serial killer?”

“what? no! she said hockey is barbaric and started quoting cte statistics to me.”

“what the fuck? who does she think she is?”

“she’s about to graduate from med school.”

“and she was on raya?”

“...she has a following on tiktok doing ‘days in the life of a med student.’”

if you weren't driving, you would've face palmed. “and she was telling you about how unsustainable a hockey career is?”

“she said i’d retire at thirty-five and probably have a mid life crisis that would be exacerbated by head injuries and how rough i’ve been on my body so it’s probably best that i look at going to college to find a real job.”

“oh my god—”

“so should i go to college?”

you sighed as you pulled up to a stoplight. “mat, how long have you known this girl?”

“...um, a week?”

“you're gonna let a stranger convince you to spend money on a degree you probably won't use? you get chirped a thousand times a night and yet you're not contemplating quitting the game just because someone you've played against for years says you suck.”

he paused, the only sound on the other side of the phone was his breathing. “okay okay, you're right. god i don't know why i freaked like that.”

“i don't either, you don't know this girl, you don't owe her anything.”

“what’re you doing tomorrow?” he asked, suddenly changing the subject. “do you wanna come to my game? i’ll get you a ticket.”

“i’m getting dinner with my parents tomorrow—”

“your parents can come! i’ll get the tickets for all three of you, if you think they’d be interested.”

if they’d be interested? what a joke! your mom and dad had been isles fans as long as you'd remembered. when you were growing up, your dad said you should play for the isles if they weren't going to make a women’s league.

“first woman to play on an nhl team would be quite the honor, don't you think squirt?”

“i’m sure they would love to be there, mat. thank you.”

you could hear his grin through the phone and imagined seeing his eyes squint from his big smile.

“i’ll send you the tickets.”

you woke up the next morning with a text from mat with the tickets enclosed; you shot back a quick thank you, and that you'd see him later.

when you called your parents the night before and gave them the news, they were ecstatic, asking a million questions about how you knew mat barzal, why he was giving you tickets, why you hadn't told them you knew him earlier. you'd told them you'd drive to their house after morning skate and you could walk to ubs together.

more than anything, you were excited to see sidney crosby playing up close. mat had gotten decent tickets after checking to see how close to the ice you'd want to be. he even told you to meet him at ubs before heading to your parents so you could get the family passes to come to the locker rooms after the game. you weren't sure why he was being so nice, but you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

you waited in the parking lot of ubs, leaning against the driver side door when mat sped into the lot and parked, rather chaotically, two spaces away.

he hopped out in his game day suit with mostly dry hair and three passes in hand.

“hey,” he smiled. and if nathan’s grin was a thousand watts, mat’s could power the entire island alone. “here are the passes.”

you took them from his hand with a matching grin. “thanks, mat.”

he shrugged like it was no big deal. “no problem. you got the tickets, right?”

you nodded. “they’re in my phone.

“great! i’ll see you later then?”

“try not to fall down this time, barzal.”

“no promises,” he said. “is that what you're wearing to the game?”

you glanced down at the black sweatshirt, jeans, and black and white dunks. “is this not fashion forward enough for you?”

“i don’t know, black’s not really an isles color...” he teased. “if you need any gear, i’m sure i can find a jersey—”

“i’m sure my dad has a t-shirt i can wear if it would really mean that much to you.”

mat slapped a hand over his heart. “would you do me the honor of not wearing the colors of the team i’m playing against? i would really appreciate it.”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“only for you, twitch.”

you laughed and shook your head. there was a moment where it looked like mat lit up at the sound of your laughter, but you were probably reading into things.

“i’ll see you after the game?”

he nodded. “see you then.”

you left him in the parking lot and headed down the street to your parents’ house. to no one’s surprise, they were both fully dressed and ready to go to the game that didn’t start for another four hours.

“how do you know mat barzal, sweetheart?” your mom asked as soon as you got settled on the couch. “i don't think you ever really explained it.”

“we met on the all star red carpet fan event. i was late, he was early.”

your dad cocked an eyebrow. “and he gave you tickets to a game after one interaction?”

you shook your head. “we ran into each other at the olympics, started talking more after that.”

“well, i think it’s very nice of him to invite us to his game tonight,” your mom replied, but there was a tone in her voice that had you looking at her suspiciously.

“you're not dating him are you?” your dad asked flat out.

you choked on your own spit, hacking and coughing until you felt like you could breathe again. “what?! no! we’re just friends.”

“hm.” your parents hummed in unison.

it used to unnerve you how many times your parents did things in sync. walking, talking, humming together, they did it all. but they’d been married for thirty years, maybe it would've been odder if they weren't so in tune with each other.

the three of you watched a rerun of ncis before you started walking to ubs together. the walk was only twenty minutes, but the wind was brutal that evening. by the time you made it in the arena, you couldn't feel your face.

you made your way down to your seats and watched as the kids gathered in the space in front of you. mat wasn't fooling around, they were great seats, right behind the bench, across from the penalty box.

the area had cleared out mostly by the time the game started, leaving you and your parents to freak out about being so close to one of your childhood heroes, patrick roy.

god, you'd have to see if mat would let you meet him.

the game itself was an ugly one, ending in a win for the islanders, but it didn't really feel like one. it didn't take you playing hockey your whole life to know that there were penalty kills that should've never happened, sloppiness on both teams. hell, you probably didn't even have to be anything more than a fan to realize that.

nonetheless, you and your parents made your way down to the locker rooms where you saw a crowd of blonde women and their children. you could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel judgmental, just curious if anything.

there was no telling how long you waited before players started coming out of the locker room and greeting their partners. you recognized them all, but had never met any of them but mat, so you kept to yourself and your parents, looking up occasionally to look for mat.

when he finally walked out, you called his name and waved, cheesing like you did for your kindergarten school photos. in real time, you watched his face light up as he walked over to you.

“great game,” your dad greeted.

mat immediately stepped up and stuck out his hand to greet your father. “thanks, sir. it’s nice to meet you, i’m mat.” he looked at your mom. “and you must be twitch’s sister.”

on cue, you could’ve sworn your mother swooned. you rolled your eyes.

what a charmer.

you watched with a smile as your dad and mat talked about the game. your dad, while quite knowledgeable, was sensitive enough to not mention the multitude of mistakes made that night.

“we definitely need to clean up a little during practice this week,” mat started. “i think roy is gonna address it...”

you couldn't hear another word after he said patrick roy’s name, like you suddenly remembered mat was being coached by your childhood hero. you tugged on mat’s arm like a child asking for another cookie.

“mat,” you started. he immediately turned to look at you, his brows pulled together in confusion. “can i meet coach roy? please?”

“oh lord,” your mother said. “you’ve started it now, mat.”

“squirt, he's probably busy, mat’s already been kind enough to invite us—”

mat glanced over his shoulder to the locker room, then looked around the hallway, like he was taking attendance. “you wanna meet him?”

you nodded emphatically, bouncing on your feet.

mat placed a hand on your back. “i’ll introduce you.”

your parents eyed mat’s hand but said nothing. you were too busy hearing the rush of blood in your head to fixate on it. “squirt, we’ll meet you at the house, you too mat! join us for dinner if you’re not too tired!” they turned on their heels and headed out of the tunnel towards the exit.

mat led you towards the locker room, but made you wait outside while he glanced around to make sure there were no naked men inside. when the coast was clear, he gestured you to come inside.

you were practically skipping into the room.

patrick roy stood by one of the lockers talking to anders lee when you entered the locker room. your jaw dropped at being so close to the man whose film you watched over and over again on youtube.

“don’t be weird,” mat mumbled. “he's just a guy.”

“you shut the fuck up,” you mumbled in reply. “he’s patrick fucking roy.”

as soon as anders finished talking to roy, he started towards the exit, nodding at you (albeit a little confused) and clapped mat on the shoulder.

the hand on your back pushed you forward until you were just a few feet away from mat’s coach.

“barzy? what’s up?” patrick roy asked before his eyes landed on you.

mat pushed you forward a little more. “coach, this is twitch, she’s the goalie for the new york sirens.”

“you're literally my hero,” you blurted out. “you made me wanna be a goalie.”

to your relief, he smiled and stuck his hand out. “it’s nice to meet you, how’s the season looking so far for the sirens?”

“not too bad, we could definitely be doing better.”

“sounds familiar.” roy’s eyes cut to mat in a sarcastic way.

“well, you met him, we gotta go, though,” mat said, already leading you away from his coach. “don't wanna keep your parents waiting.”

roy’s eyes twinkled and his lips slid into a smirk, like he knew something you didn't. “it was nice to meet you, twitch.”

“you too!”

the hallway was mostly empty when you and mat exited the locker room. you glanced up at him and smiled. “oh my god thank you! i don't think anything will live up to this moment.”

he shrugged like he didn't just do the biggest favor for you. “don't worry about it.”

“do you think i could meet sorokin next time?”

mat guffawed and lightly shoved you. “don't get ahead of yourself, that would require you to come to another game.”

“deal.”

the two of you walked towards the parking lot mat parked in. “i’ll drive you home,” he said.

“you really don't have to come for dinner, i know you’re probably tired.”

he scoffed. “and miss out on the chance to get a home cooked meal and look at your baby pictures? never.”

“you're not gonna see my baby pictures.”

“i'm sure your mom would pull them out if i asked nicely.”

you shook your head. “nope. nope. nope. invitation rescinded. you can't come over.”

“not your house, you can’t rescind an invitation you didn't give.”

you groaned. “this isn’t fair, it’s not like i can go to your childhood home and look at baby mat pictures.”

he shrugged and opened the passenger door of his car for you. “you can always visit during the summer.”

you thought about it. “summer in vancouver doesn't sound bad...”

he smiled and shut the door behind you before walking around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. “just let me know, i’m sure my mom would be happy to have you. she’s always happy to host my friends.” he pulled his phone out. “can you put your parents’s address in?”

you typed in their address and handed the phone back to him while you picked at the dirt under your nails. mat pulled out onto the turnpike and down a few side streets until you were pulling up to the house.

“i’m sorry your date didn't work out.”

mat turned towards you. “huh?”

“your date,” you explained. “with lauren.”

“oh,” he said. “it’s fine. tonight made up for it.”

it took your mom no time at all to sell you down the river (read: pull out the photo albums). as soon as dinner was over, mat asked, and your mom immediately went and grabbed the albums without hesitating.

mat was all too giddy to see your photos, he was nearly bouncing in his seat when your mom came down the stairs, armed with blackmail material.

“this was when she was six months old,” your mom started, pointing at different photos. when mat cackled and smirked at you, you knew he'd found the bathtub pictures.

a few pages later and mat’s eyes went wide as saucers as he looked in your direction. “why’re you dressed as an amish woman?” he cackled.

your dad smiled. “she went through an amish hyperfixation after we went to pennsylvania and saw an amish family riding in a horse and buggy.”

mat pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos, snickering to himself all the while. “this is so cute,” he said, pointing at a photo he wouldn't let you see.

your dad continued. “she even asked us to have candlelight dinner for her birthday because the amish don’t have electricity.”

mat couldn't stop laughing.

you shrugged, not even the slightest bit embarrassed. everyone had their weird fixations, yours happened to be the amish. “i tried wearing the dress with my goalie gear and cried when i couldn't,” you said.

mat continued to scrutinize the photos, flipping pages as he smiled. “you were so cute.”

for some odd reason, heat flooded your cheeks. but you brushed it off as a side effect of the glass of wine you had with dinner.

it was nearing 1am when mat finally said goodbye. you walked him out, not noticing the smug look on your parents’ faces.

“thank you for letting me crash your dinner tonight,” mat said, leaning against his car. “it was nice. your parents are great.”

you shook your head and smiled. “thanks for the tickets and the passes. the game was really fun, and i know mom and dad appreciated it.”

a cold wind blew that made a shiver run down your spine. mat took a step closer, then a step back, like he thought better of it.

“when’s your next date?” mat asked.

“not sure,” you said, scuffing the ground with your shoe. “haven't found anyone yet. you?”

he shook his head. “trying to focus on getting to the playoffs, can’t afford any distractions.”

you nodded emphatically. though his playoff run started before yours did, the urgency was still the same.

“let me know if you wanna come to another game,” he said.

before you could stop yourself, you were already shaking your head. “mat you don't have to—”

he held up a hand to quiet you. “you can make it up to me by giving me tickets to see you play.”

you smiled and couldn't stop. even as he got in his car and drove out of sight, you wore that smile inside, missing the knowing looks from your parents.

“he’s nice,” your mom said, a strange tone in her voice that you paid no mind to.

“he’s pretty great.”

mat’s girl two: grace

when mat texted you that he had gone on a date with a girl named grace and was planning another one with the same girl, a strange sinking sensation happened in your stomach. you weren't overly familiar with the feeling. you just assumed it was because you hadn't eaten much.

when he facetimed you a few minutes later, you were shoving a handful of spinach and cheese in your mouth.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he asked. his cackle echoed through your kitchen

“it’s dino time,” you said through a mouthful of spinach.

mat blinked. “‘dino time?’ as in dinosaur?”

“what else would it be for?” you scoffed. “c'mon mat, i know you grew up in canada, but you should've learned this in kindergarten.”

“okay sure, but why?”

“why what?”

“why are you eating a handful of lettuce?”

“...it’s spinach.”

mat dragged a hand down his face and sighed. “okay so it’s spinach. why are you eating a handful of spinach?”

“i saw a girl on tiktok doing it.”

“huh. and you do whatever people on tiktok do?”

you rolled your eyes. “oh get off your high horse, mat. i’m only doing it to get more veggies in. it’s not like i’m snorting cocaine because i saw the wolf of wall street.” only after you shoved more spinach in your mouth, did you ask another question. “why did you call anyway?”

“i was wondering if you'd be able to get two tickets to your game tomorrow.”

“who’s going?” you asked with your mouth still full of leafy greens. “you and bo? duclair? lee?”

mat rubbed the back of his neck. “i was actually planning on taking grace, if that’s okay.”

“oh,” you said, swallowing your spinach. there was that strange sensation in your stomach again. it was odd though, because you were eating, so the feeling should’ve been gone by now, right?

right?

“yeah,” you nodded. “yeah i can get some. i can also see if i can get passes so you can come down to the locker rooms after the game.”

he smiled brightly. “you’re the best, twitch. i’ll talk to you later?”

“mhm.”

he ended the call shortly thereafter, leaving you with your bag of spinach and a quiet room.

he planned on taking grace to your game.

suddenly the greens didn't taste as good anymore. but you had no idea why.

“you’re jealous,” jess deadpanned in the locker room a few days later.

you scoffed. “i’m not jealous. i’ve just been feeling weird.”

“and that all happened to coincide with when mat got a girlfriend?”

“one date hardly makes her his girlfriend.”

jessie eyed you, but you kept taping your stick as if you didn't see her in your periphery.

there was no way she was right. you still texted the tickets to mat. but instead of meeting him outside like he did for his game, you sent one of the attendants out to give him the passes. your reasoning was simple: you weren't feeling well for some reason, and the idea of seeing grace in his passenger seat only made your stomach twist more.

“listen, all i’m saying is you might have a little crush. it doesn’t have to be devastating.”

devastating? devastating?

devastating was losing 4 to 5 to toronto. devastating was smiling through the irritation and disappointment when emma maltais skated over after celebrating with her team.

devastating was not looking over at mat and who you assumed was grace standing at the glass, close enough that you wanted to vomit.

you were only halfway listening to your coach’s lecture after the game, knowing damn well it would lead to bag skating tomorrow. the idea of even touching the ice made you want to slam your head against the wall until you forgot about the game you just played.

when you showered, you originally just stood there, letting the water drown you briefly before you actually washed your hair and body. there was no shot you were drying your hair, you were willing to risk getting a cold if it meant leaving that godforsaken arena as soon as possible. so you slapped a sirens beanie on top of your wet hair and walked out of the locker room.

only to be met with mat and grace standing outside.

fuck.

you'd forgotten about the family passes after three periods of shitty goaltending. the last thing you wanted to do was see mat after your performance that night. the only thing that could top it was meeting grace.

of course she was lovely, smiling at you and offering her hand when mat introduced her. you weren't an asshole, so you shook her hand and did your best to smile even though you wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep off the loss.

however, you did your best to look as interested in the conversation, you pretended to be genuine when grace said you did a great job, that she had fun at the game. all her words should've lifted your spirits, but you didn't know her from a can of paint and you weren't up for conversation. maybe after the next game (that you'd hopefully win) you'd be more up for talking.

“hey,” mat nudged his foot with yours. “it’s not your fault.”

you rolled your eyes, even though they started stinging. “i should've blocked that last goal.”

“and your team should've scored or kept the puck away from you,” he said matter of factly. “the puck has to get through three forwards and two defensemen before it gets to you.”

“but if i—”

mat shook his head and placed his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the bones there. “you're gonna keep yourself up all night overthinking this.” he leaned his head down to look you in the eyes. “it’s not your fault, you've gotta let it go.”

you scoffed. “i can’t just ‘let it go—’”

“you can, and you will if you wanna prevent yourself from making the same mistakes.”

you nodded. “thanks mat,” you mumbled, standing there in the moment until you remembered grace was right there. “it was nice to meet you, grace,” you said, doing your best to smile at her without it looking like a grimace. “maybe next time, we’ll win and i’ll be in a better mood.”

she smiled so bright that it nearly blinded you. “no worries, i look forward to your next game.”

“i’ll see you later, mat,” you said. with your goalie bag on your shoulder, your tired legs started to carry you down the hall towards the parking lot, but a hand reached out and slipped the bag off your shoulder.

“i’ll walk you to your car.”

“but grace—”

“she can come with, right, grace? we’ll drop twitch off and then i’ll drive you home?”

you and mat glanced at her, she seemed frozen in her spot, but she slipped a smile on her face with minimal faltering. “that’s fine,” she said.

mat carried your bag all the way to your car and tossed it in the trunk without breaking a sweat. when he closed the trunk door, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “text me when you get home,” he said.

“you're the one with the hour long drive, mat. you should text me when you get home.”

he laughed and tugged on the ends of your hair. “will do. let me know what your schedule looks like this week!”

you nodded as he walked away and watched as he took grace’s hand. your stomach lurched again, but you wrote it off as a side effect of losing that night.

but the sight of mat and grace reminded you of the bet you'd made at the olympics.

you still had some falling in love to do.

guy three: peter

when you were in high school, you watched a movie called serendipity and fell in love with love. the idea that the right person could be in front of you the whole time made your sixteen year old heart beat like wild.

so when you ran into your ex, peter, at a coffee shop in manhattan, you knew it was your moment.

he was the one.

he had to be.

god and to think you two broke up in college and somehow found your ways back to each other? it had to be a sign.

“it’s not a sign, it’s a coincidence,” emma said over facetime.

you rolled your eyes. “how else would you explain him being in manhattan now? i met him when we were at osu.”

“just because you exchanged numbers again doesn't mean you should date him.”

“we ran into him in the most densely populated city in america, emma. i don't think that’s by chance.” you inhaled. “besides, i think he’s changed. i know i have. maybe it was the right person at the wrong time.”

emma blinked like she didn't believe you. “what does mat think?” she asked.

that was an odd question.

“what do you mean? why would he care?”

she shrugged. “i just thought you two were talking to each other about your dates. thought he might have an opinion on the matter.”

“eh, haven’t spoken to him much.” and truthfully you hadn't. between practicing, games, and dates with peter, you two hadn’t spoken in about a week and a half. which, for anyone else, wasn't that deep, but for you and mat, it was a little strange.

“maybe you should fix that,” emma said.

almost like he knew you were talking about him, mat texted.

mat barzal: would you be up for a double date? you, me, grace, and pete?

that sounded like a comically bad idea.

you said yes anyway.

peter chose the restaurant after mat suggested meeting in manhattan, a suggestion he probably made with you in mind. it was a bit fancier than you would've liked. you were fully expecting on finding a little mom and pop hole in the wall with some indoor seating and calling it a day, but you should've known peter was more refined than that.

you were in a black dress with his jacket draped over your shoulders when you walked in the restaurant. mat had texted you earlier to let you know he and grace were already seated.

peter’s hand was on the small of your back as he led you back to the table. he plastered a polite smile on his face and whispered in your ear. “why did you agree to this?”

you shrugged. “thought it would be fun.” you glanced back with a smile on your face. “i think you'll really like mat, he's cool. and grace is nice too.” though, admittedly, you didn't know as much about her as you did mat. after all, he was the one you quieted the anxieties you were feeling about this date entirely.

“it’ll be great!” mat said as the two of you walked around a park. “you and i already get along,” he passed back your now peeled orange. you immediately shove three pieces in your mouth. “it would only make sense that our partners would also get along.”

not even peter’s cynicism could put a damper on your mood.

mat and grace stood as the two of you approached. mat hugged you first, then shook peter’s hand. you and grace waved at each other before you took your seats. mat pulled grace’s seat out before he sat down, peter was seated before you could even blink.

you shrugged it off, pulling out a chair wasn't that big of a deal. but you saw mat’s lips pull down in a frown before it was gone entirely.

“what’s good here?” mat asked. “i've never been.”

you glanced at the menu, your mouth started watering already. “the lobster ravioli looks good,” you noted. “god my stomach is growling already.”

peter made a noise in the back of his throat. “have you looked at the salads?”

you froze. in the corner of your eye, you saw mat’s head snap up from where he sat diagonally from you. “why would i look at the salads?” you asked. “i want pasta.”

peter shrugged. “just think the salad would be healthier.”

“so you can get a salad. i want pasta.”

“if i’m paying, i think you should get—”

“it's on me tonight,” mat interrupted. his eyes met yours. “get what you want, twitch.”

you closed your eyes and sighed when you felt peter tense up next to you at the mention of your college nickname. in your head, you said a little prayer that he would drop it, or at least wait until the two of you were alone to address it.

grace cleared her throat and smiled at you. “has your season gotten any better?” she asked.

grateful for the sudden change in topic, you smiled back. “it has, i feel much better now. sorry that you caught me on a bad night.”

“it wasn't that bad, twitch,” mat said. “it was an off night for everyone. you did the best you could.”

you shot him a grateful smile right as peter cleared his throat. “how’s your season going, mat? i’ve been trying to keep up but you play so many games and so does this one,” he nudges you. “it’s hard to keep track.”

mat shrugged. “we have to get better at putting pucks in the net, that’s for sure.”

“don't let his modesty fool you, peter,” you started. “mat’s on an eight game point streak right now. he’s killing it.” mat looked up and smiled at you. on reflex you smiled back at him until peter cleared his throat.

peter blinked, then gave mat a smirk. “must be cool playing for the rangers,” he said. “has to be the greatest team in new york.”

your brows furrowed right as mat’s jaw clenched. you'd told peter about mat, how he was a forward for the islanders, and was a strict rangers hater. so it was a mystery how he confused mat for a rangers player at all.

“i don't play for the rangers,” mat replied coolly.

“my mistake,” peter shrugged before taking a sip of water. “i assumed your team was the winning team.”

your eyes widened and you nudged peter in the arm. “can you chill please?” you mumbled.

grace, sensing the tension, turned the conversation back towards you. “mat told me you grew up on long island, is that true?”

you nodded and smiled widely, grateful for the topic change. “yes! right down the street from ubs. my parents and i walked to the arena to see mat play not too long ago.”

“it’s like a five minute drive,” mat chimed in.

grace nodded, then froze. “how do you know that?”

he shrugged. “we ate dinner at her parents’ after the game.”

you could cut the tension with a knife. based on grace’s thinned out lips, she wasn't necessarily enthused about the idea of mat eating with you and your parents. granted, you didn't think anything of it, but maybe it was cause for concern for her.

thankfully, the server came over and took your orders. you told the server you wanted lobster ravioli before peter could order for you and sipped your water as he rolled his eyes.

when the food came out, you were too busy eating to notice the looks mat and peter were sending each other or the way grace kept glancing back and forth from you to mat. the lobster ravioli was just too good to focus on anything else.

when the time for the check came, peter scowled when mat paid for it, but said nothing. your mood soured the longer peter was grumpy. by the end of the date, you were rushing him out the door, but not without waving goodbye at grace and hugging mat.

peter didn't say anything until you got into his car. “i didn't know mat had met your parents.”

you blinked. “i didn't think it was worth mentioning. do you want me to tell you that jess and ella met my parents on draft day?”

“that’s not the point and you know it,” he scowled. “and why is he calling you twitch?”

you shrugged. “because it’s what everyone calls me. he heard it from emma and jessie and it’s stuck since then. why is it a problem?”

he huffed. “i never said it was a problem.”

“you're acting like it is.”

“that’s because you're too old to be going by a college nickname. when you meet my coworkers, can you just give them your real name?” he asked.

there was a sinking sensation in your stomach that you hadn't felt since you were twenty. “sure,” you tried to smile. “if it’ll make you happy.”

two days later, you were drying your hair after a 2-1 loss against montreal. peter had texted you earlier that week asking for days you were available to hang out with him and his friends.

truthfully, you didn't want to, especially after losing. but peter was so sweet last night. he brought you flowers, though you weren't really a fan of daisies, a bottle of his favorite wine, and pizza from a place down the street from your apartment. he let you pick the movie out and said you were beautiful.

you were willing to endure a night with his finance bro friends because he sacrificed his free time last night to see you.

you put your walk in outfit back on and sighed when you looked in the mirror. the last thing you wanted to do was go to a bar where you only knew your boyfriend.

but love was about sacrifice, right?

you drove home and ordered an uber to the bar in manhattan. when you finally arrived, it took you a second to realize where your boyfriend was.

he was propped against the wall while one of his friends was shooting pool. peter kept talking and didn't notice you walk up until you were right next to him.

“oh hey!” he kissed your cheek, which made you grin just a little. he was so sweet and you loved the affection. “how was your game?”

your smile faltered. “you didn't watch it?”

a light bulb went off in his mind. “oh, i mean, they had the islanders game going on, so i didn't get a chance to see it. i’m sorry, babe. i would’ve if i could’ve.”

you nodded, not wanting to fight in public. because your game ended over an hour ago, and peter, according to your texts, had only been at the bar for forty-five minutes.

he seemed to take your silence as a sign that you were okay and ushered you forward towards his friends. “guys, this is my girlfriend,” he said before looking at you, expecting you to introduce yourself.

you waved and said your name. peter’s friends nodded back at you and got back to their game. peter was cheering as one of his friends, whose name you didn't know, shot a ball in the hole.

“peter,” you said over the loud music. “peter!”

he finally glanced at you, eyebrows raising like he just remembered you were there. “yeah?”

“i’m going to get a drink,” you said.

he nodded before turning back to the game.

your heart sunk as you walked to the bar, dodging bodies like your teammates did on their way to the net. in your backpocket, you could feel your phone vibrate. you reached back and pulled it out, smiling when you saw a text on your screen.

mat barzal: do you feel as shitty as i do?

you pulled up the nhl app and saw the score. a 4-5 loss against the rangers.

stupid fucking rangers.

you: i feel like absolute dog shit. like the kind i would have to pick up when i took benny on walks.

mat barzal: who’s benny?

you: my childhood dog, sweet as can be, but took massive dumps on every walk.

mat barzal: what’re you doing now?

you: at a bar with peter and his friends.

mat barzal: ...that’s fun?

you laughed at his message.

you: if only, but i’m hopeful it’ll get better.

mat barzal: where are you right now?

you dropped him a pin.

you: why?

mat barzal: i’m like five minutes away, would it be weird if i joined you?

probably yes, given how mat and peter’s last interaction went, but you glanced back at your boyfriend who was laughing with his buddies. he didn't notice you'd been gone for almost ten minutes now.

so maybe you were feeling petty, but you didn't care at that point. maybe you'd pay for it later, but the price of not feeling alone in a dive bar was worth any tension that would inevitably come.

you: it wouldn't be weird! i’d actually appreciate some company right now.

mat barzal: bet.

you were alone for another seven minutes before you saw a mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors. you watched as his eyes searched the room until they landed on you. it was like someone flipped a switch, the way his face immediately lit up at the sight of you. the very sight made your stomach twist in a way that had you buzzing in your seat.

mat shoved his way through the crowd of people before he flagged down a bartender and took the seat next to you.

“hey,” he huffed, out of breath.

you laughed. “did you run here?”

he shrugged, even as his cheeks turned pink. “maybe. that’s not the point. what’re you drinking?”

you held up your half empty cup. “moscow mule.”

“you want another?”

you let mat buy you another drink. you let him pay for it. you let him ask you about how the game was and in turn, you asked how his went. you let him tell you about bo’s kids as well as matt’s, how the bet was going, how grace was doing.

he seemed ambivalent to that last conversation topic, the spark in his eyes when he talked about his teammates died quickly.

“i don't know,” he said, tracing the bar top with his pointer finger. “things are good.”

“but?” you asked.

“but i thought falling in love would be different.”

your heart lurched in your chest, your stomach twisted like you were about to vomit. there was no reason for it though, maybe it was the alcohol?

“you're in love with her?” you managed to get out.

he shook his head, and the pressure building in your chest lessened. “no, but maybe i should be.”

mat’s eyes looked past you, when you turned around, you saw he was staring at peter and his friends. “do you love him?” he asked quietly, just loud enough for you and only to hear.

the truth was, you used to when you were in college. you thought he hung the sky, the moon, and the stars. you thought he put the earth into motion. he was your sun. but now things were different, he was different, you were different. it was like a piece of a puzzle that almost fit but not completely, like you were forcing it into a spot and saying it was close enough.

“i don't know,” was the answer you settled for. “maybe in time, i will again.”

mat let out a breath. “but you don't right now?”

“not yet.”

he nodded.

a beat later, an arm slid around your waist that had you tensing until you heard his voice. “hey sweetheart, you'd been gone for a moment, i got concerned.” you could hear the tension in peter’s voice as he spoke to you. if you were a betting woman, you'd gamble your bottom dollar on mat being the reason for it.

“pete, hey,” mat said with a wave.

“it’s peter,” your boyfriend said. “hope you’re not feeling the sting of a loss too bad, mat.”

you whipped your head around to look at peter, confusion written all over your face. “you watched the game?”

peter shrugged like he barely heard you. he wasn't looking at you anyway, his gaze was locked on mat. “we pregamed before coming here.”

“you watched the rangers play but couldn't watch my game?”

but he didn't even acknowledge what you said. “it was nice seeing you mat, but me and my girlfriend are going to go play pool. have a good night.” peter steered you away from the bar and back towards the pool tables.

it was like someone was draining the life out of you like one would tap a tree for sap.

“i think i’m gonna go home,” you said, pulling away from peter. “i’m really tired and i have practice tomorrow.”

peter’s brows pulled together, he frowned. “but you just got here. i barely got to see you.”

“that’s because you were playing pool with your friends. i’ve been here for over half an hour, peter. i lost tonight and i just wanna go home and lay on the couch and watch trashy reality tv.”

“fine,” he huffed. “i’ll see you later.”

you went on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, but at the last minute he turned his head away so your lips met his cheek instead. you stepped back, a little hurt before you spun on your heels and headed for the exit.

“you're leaving?” you glanced over your shoulder and saw mat shoving past people to get to you.

“yeah,” you said. “i’m tired and wanna get in bed.”

“have you ordered an uber yet?”

you shook your head.

“let me ride home with you, i don't want you going home alone.” you were already shaking your head, telling him to catch uber back to long island, but he held a hand up. “it’s late and i don’t want to have to tell your mom that i let you catch an uber back to your apartment without making sure you got there safely.”

you held up your phone. “i can give you my location.”

“not good enough. i need to see you walk into your apartment building.”

“seriously, mat, i’d feel bad that you're adding more time to your commute.”

he shrugged like it was no big deal. “don't think of it like that, just think of it as me wanting to spend more time with you.”

the ride back to newark was short, but you felt bad knowing that mat had an hour trip back home because of you. but he shrugged your worries off and said he'd text you when you got home.

that night, after your second shower, after crawling into bed to watch the bachelor, you went to sleep smiling.

your mood over the next two days fluctuated, with you rarely hearing from peter. if you got any response, it was strictly five words max per text message. and each message took him at least thirty minutes to reply.

safe to say, when you arrived at prudential for another game, you were ready to devour the red starbursts you saved in your goalie bag.

except the bag was empty.

and really it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, but you'd been eating red starbursts before every game since you were six and your mom stopped caring about red dye 40. your shaking hands reached for your phone and hit peter’s contact.

the phone rang and rang and rang and rang only to go straight to voicemail.

so you called again.

same thing.

so you called again.

same thing.

you called one more time and it went straight to voicemail.

peter: can you chill? i’m busy.

you: i need red starbursts. do you think you could bring me some?

radio silence.

so you waited five, ten minutes. and not a single reply.

you: peter? will you?

peter: i’m busy. why don’t you get that?

tears welled up in your eyes. you were starting tonight, you couldn't afford to not have the candy. what if you lost because you didn't have them? would the whole team blame you? you know you would.

you walked into the hallway and scrolled through your contacts. you hit the contact of the person you were searching for.

two rings.

“hello?”

“mat,” you sniffled, trying to keep the crying to a minimum, thankful you'd gotten there early enough, no one else was in the locker room. and no one was in the hall.

“hey, you okay? are you crying?”

“can you do me a huge favor?” you asked.

“anything.”

“can you bring me red starbursts? i tried asking peter but he’s busy and my parents are at work still and—”

“i got you, don't worry. where do you want me to meet you?”

a sob escaped your lips as relief crashed over you. “thank you thank you thank you, mat. just call me when you get here, and i’ll meet you.”

he was there in forty-five minutes with a ziploc bag stuffed full with your favorite candy.

you about tackled him in the hallway. “how did you get down here?” you asked, bouncing on your feet as he handed the bag over.

“apparently my face is familiar,” he joked. “when i told one of the social media interns i was here for you, she led me down here.”

without even thinking about it, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for the tightest hug possible. “i owe you one. seriously.”

when you pulled back, his cheeks were a light pink, something you could've read into had jess and ella not come bounding down the hallway.

“twitch! who is this?” they asked, wide smiles on their faces.

“no,” you mumbled. “mat, run.”

you tried pushing him away, but he turned around and smiled at your teammates. “i’m mat,” he said.

jess’ lips formed a smirk. “i’m jess, the best friend.”

“ella, the other friend.”

“are you staying for the game?” jessie asked, mirth rolling around in her irises.

“he can’t he's busy—”

“sure,” mat smiled. “i’d love to.” he turned back to you. “are your parents coming?”

you nodded, a little sheepishly. “they have my tickets—”

“you can have mine!” jess cut in. “they should be next to yours anyway.”

“you really don't have to come, mat—”

but he shrugged. “i’d love to. do you think your mom would cook again tonight?”

“i’m sure if you asked, she’d make a five course meal just for you.”

you missed the looks passed back and forth between jess and ella, only focused on the way mat’s lips curled up into a smile. “then i’ll see you out there, twitch.”

as he walked away, jess and ella smirked at you, waiting until he was fully out of sight (and earshot) to shriek at you.

“he’s eaten dinner with your parents?!”

“shut up,” you groaned, walking back into the locker room. “it’s not that deep.”

“girl, what was he even doing here?”

you held up the bag of starbursts. “i ran out.”

jess paused. “...and he brought you some?” she reached for the bag, testing its weight in the palm of her hands. “girl, this is like several packs worth of starbursts.”

you shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. “he was being nice.”

but when you skated out for warm ups and saw him sitting next to your parents, you could see the blue of the sirens jersey he was wearing, you could see your number 26 on his sleeves. he was leaning down to listen to what your mom was saying when you skated past their seats.

your parents were sporting a homemade t-shirt of you in goalie gear at the ripe age of six, if you had to guess. on any other day, you wouldn't have felt the heat flooding your cheeks, but something about mat standing next to your parents wearing those shirts felt a little too intimate. it felt like something peter wouldn't be happy about if he found out.

the same peter who brushed you off, you reminded yourself.

suddenly, you cared a little less.

you skated to the crease and started scuffing it up before prepping for the rest of the warm ups.

by the time the game ended, you were exhausted. it ended in a win, something you were grateful for. ottawa put up a good fight, but you felt every one of those twenty-three shots on goal in your bones. you were so tired, you didn't even bother checking your phone, you just shoved it in your back pocket and walked outside of the locker room.

what you saw in the hallway had to be some sort of nightmare. standing with your parents was mat, jess, and ella all of whom were pointing at the homemade shirts they wore.

you immediately started walking towards them.

“you have to make me a shirt next time,” mat quipped.

““no—” you cut in.

“of course, mat! if you come over afterwards, you can pick which picture you want on your shirt!” your mom crooned.

your eyes widened. “mom no—”

but mat was already smirking and cutting you off. “i have just the picture in mind.”

jess’ eyes brightened, like a lightbulb went off above her head. “is it the amish picture?”

he shook his head and smiled. “nah, i got a better one.” when ella and jess opened their mouths to ask, he shook his head again. “and it’s a secret. you'll all find out one day.”

you laughed while your teammates rolled their eyes. it wasn't long before they were saying their goodbyes and walking out while you, your parents, and mat just stood around.

“you know, mat,” your dad started. “the offer still stands if you want to come over for a drink.”

mat’s eyes met yours. a silent are you going? passing between the two of you.

you thought about how you should probably go home, how you'd be better just going to your apartment instead of driving an hour to your parents’ house.

but your parents made cute shirts and sat in the arena cheering you on like they had been doing for years.

“your call, barzy. but be warned, we will probably play spades. so if you're game—”

“i’m down,” he smiled.

which is how you ended up throwing cards at mat because your parents set the two of you in the card game.

“what the fuck mat!” you yelled, but it was drowned out by your parents cackling and mat groaning.

“language!” your mom chided.

mat threw his hands up at your accusation. “i've never played this before! your parents have been playing together for years!”

“not an excuse!”

“oh c'mon, squirt, don't be such a sore loser, it’s mat’s first time playing.”

you huffed and sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “i don't remember being this bad,” you said.

“you were a concussed fifteen year old, i doubt you remembered much from that time,” your dad quipped as he shuffled the deck of cards.

mat choked on a laugh that he quickly stifled when he saw your glare. you opened your mouth to retort when your phone started vibrating in your back pocket.

peter.

you sighed and held your phone up. “i've gotta take this, i’ll be back.” you pointed at mat. “make sure they don't cheat.”

mat held his hands up. “i wouldn't even know how they could cheat at shuffling cards, but okay.”

you stepped into the living room, just far enough for a little privacy, but close enough to monitor what was being said by your parents. “hello?”

“where are you?” peter asked immediately. “i tried ringing your doorbell but you haven't buzzed me in. i’m freezing my ass off, here.”

“huh?” you asked, wondering if you heard him wrong.

“i’m outside your apartment,” he sighed.

“wait,” you said. “why?”

a moment of silence and then a deeper sigh. “to apologize. i feel like you were angry with me earlier. so i wanted to make things better.”

you blinked. “so you're at my apartment?”

“with daisies, your favorite. so, are you going to stop ignoring me and let me in? it’s way too fucking cold for this, baby.”

you grimaced at the idea of telling him the truth. “i would peter, but i’m not in jersey right now. i’m in elmont, with my parents and—”

mat’s loud ass laugh cut you off.

the silence on the phone was deafening.

“is mat there? was that him?” peter’s voice was cold in a way you hadn't heard before.

“yeah,” you said, not seeing an issue with it. “he's here. we’re playing spades.”

a long pause. “why?”

“why what?”

“why are you at your parents’ house with another guy? can you tell me how that makes sense?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose and moved upstairs to your bedroom so your parents and mat couldn't hear. “we’re just playing a card game—”

“why is he there?”

“because he came to my game,” you said.

“why was he at your game?”

“because he didn't hang up on me when i asked for red starbursts, peter.”

“oh my god,” he groaned. “i was in a meeting! you seriously can't be mad at me for not getting stupid candy for you this one time.”

“well, you asked why he was here and i told you. he brought me red starbursts, jess gave him one of her tickets, and my parents invited him over for dinner.”

“why?”

he couldn't be serious.

“because they're my parents, and they've never met a friend of mine that they didn't like. which you would know if you'd had more than three conversations with them.”

“oh don't turn this around on me, sweetheart. you’re the one with a guy at your parents’ house right now.”

“you know what?” you started. “i’m not even gonna entertain this bullshit. why did you stop by my place again?”

“to apologize!”

“for what?”

“i don't know,” he admitted. “i could tell you were mad and probably blamed me so i came to apologize for whatever i did to piss you off.” you could practically feel the sarcasm in his voice seeping through the phone.

“okay peter,” you said. “i’m going to hang up now because you're being an ass and if we continue this phone call any longer, you're going to be single. i’ll talk to you when i’m back in jersey.”

before he could say another word, you hung up and took a deep breath to steel your nerves. you took a moment to pull yourself together as you headed down the stairs and back into the dining room.

“everything okay, squirt?” your dad asked.

you nodded and did your best to smile. “just peachy.” you walked back to your seat and pointed at mat. “don't fuck this up for me, okay?” you said. “i have a lot of pride riding on this game.”

“language,” your mom scolded.

but mat smiled anyway and slapped your hand out of the air. “wouldn't dream of it.”

mat left around 2am and you were asleep in your childhood room by 2:15.

#mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

183 notes · View notes

littlelovelunette · 2 days ago

Note

would you be willing to write pt. 2 to Not in control, where reader quietly reassures Sevika with some soft smut?

Not In Control (2)

Contains gentle sex, oral, sub!sevika

"Oh, sweetheart, you know you're the only one who I want," you said as you helped Sevika take her mechanical arm off before bed. She always slept without it because she was afraid of hurting you with it accidentally.

"I know." Sevika grumbled, pulling her hair off from the half updo.

But you knew it, Sevika hated feeling jealous. Hated feeling to vulnerable to the bubbling in her chest as if she didn't matter to you and as if she couldn't hold your loyalty down. Sevika hated every little bit of it.

"You know, but you don't feel it," you said, rubbing Sevika's flesh arm as you tried to get her to listen but she didn't look at you. She avoided your gaze as if, if she looked at you she'd see you with another woman.

"I'm fine," Sevika said, waving a dismissive hand as she sat down at the edge of the bed, swinging her long legs over, the mattress dipping.

"No, you're not," you clambered onto her lap, resting yourself over her thighs. Sevika instinctively wrapped her arm around your waist to stabilise you. "Let me prove it to you."

Sevika raised a brow, leaning her back against the headboard, she watched as you undid the buttons of her nightshirt, opening it up. She didn't have a bra on, you grinned. "Mmmm, so pretty, see," you heaved both mounds on hands, massaging the nipple between two fingers.

Sevika let out a low throaty moan, rubbing her flesh thumb over your hip bone, "Fuck."

She threw her head back once she saw how you grabbed the hem of her boxers with your teeth, maintaining undeterred eye contact with her as you slowly pulled it down. "Mmmm..."

You hummed as you nibbled at her inner thigh, taking your time to savour every little bit of her exposed flesh. Sevika clenched around nothing, pussy already getting aroused with the filthy thoughts that threatened to consume her brain into a mush. The moment she felt your breath hit her pussy, her body trembled a little, "Eat it," her words were a whisper, a command and you were more than happy to listen and service.

You moaned when her musky scent hit your nose, burying your face into her cunt. Your tongue found her hole and you slipped it inside, coercing out her wetness, "Mmm... So sweet," you whispered and continued devouring the taste of her pussy.

Sevika moaned, grabbing the sheets with her flesh hand as she rutted her hips against your mouth, trying to get more friction against her aching heat desperately but you grabbed her hips and pushed her back.

"Let me work, baby," you licked circles around her clit, "I promise I'll make you cum."

"Oh, fuck," Sevika cursed under her breath, her thighs were almost about to close around your head but you held them open. Her big, muscly, shuddering thighs. You dipped your mouth deeper, slurping loudly.

With another circling of her clit with your tongue, you pressed it flat against her sensitive nerves causing her hips to leave the mattress, Sevika creamed on your tongue. You were gentle with her as you helped her down from her high. Not because you thought she was fragile, but because you wanted to show her how much you loved her.

"I'll always be yours, 'Vika," you whispered as you cleaned her juices off with your tongue. "Always."

267 notes · View notes

l-starsz · 2 days ago

Text

a/n: finally got around to this😛 i hope this is good, i got a bit carried away writing this.. also it won’t let me tag so i left the @ in🥲 (also last request done!!! still not taking any rn though since i still have loads added to my list of things i need to write and post😋)

billie knew how to get a girl. and it showed. she knew the right things to say and when to say them. although she hadn’t been with many girls, she knew the right way to get a girl without making her uncomfortable. and that’s what she did to me.

i’d had men approach me in the past who definitely didn’t know how to properly make a girl feel right, let alone treat one right. but there was something about billie. probably because she was a girl herself, but i could tell that i wouldn’t regret getting her number. she was sweet, and caring, and she knew that. she knew that she could probably get any girl she wanted with just a few simple words.

from that night forward, billie and i talked a lot, and ended up being friends. but there was always something more there. i fell for her the night i saw her, but i didn’t want her to know that. there were obviously feeling on her part too, though.

like the time i told her i’d never actually had an orgasm when someone touched me. i’d been fucked before, but not well. the people i’d been with just waited until they came, and didn’t bother about me. and billie took it upon herself to advise me i guess? well it was more like an offer to help me out. i laughed it off, i thought she was joking, but then she added onto her words.

“baby, when you need the job done, you can call me.” it was a whisper, but loud enough for me to hear.

my cheeks turned pink and i attempted to change the conversation, but her words lingered in the back of my mind. since i didn’t know she liked me back, i was trying so hard to forget about her. i tried talking to people, but they weren’t like her. i even tried to push her away, but it didn’t work. we had plans, and i could barely cope without her.

the day came, i was seeing her for the first time in a while. i’d missed her. and i felt so bad for pushing her away. i was just finishing getting ready when i heard her car revving outside. i knew the sound of her car. i knew it was her. i was going to her house just to hang out for a while, but she insisted on picking me up.

i ran downstairs and after locking my door, i hopped into her car with a smile on my face.

“hi bil!!” i smiled, hugging her tight, and as best i could sitting down, before buckling my seatbelt.

“hey angel! i’ve missed you.” she pouted and pulled off the curb.

“i missed you so much more.” i giggled, leaning back slightly in my seat.

we spoke for a few minutes before i mentioned something.

“it’s so difficult finding good people around here. i swear things will be going well then all of a sudden they’re either a horrible person, or they can’t be bothered to make me finish.” i rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

“well you know that if you’ve never had the one, you can call me, baby.” she smirked, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shifter.

of course, my cheeks turned pink again, just like the last time she said something like this. the day went smooth after that, we watched movies, had dinner together, and when it was getting a little late, she drove me home again. i told her i’d get a taxi, but she wouldn’t accept that, she wanted to drive me home.

when i’d got into the house, i immediately showered, trying to clear my mind. i needed her so bad. i couldn’t get her to leave my mind. when i finished my shower, i did some self care, and immediately got into bed. my favourite tv show was calling to me when i turned my tv on, but even with it playing i couldn’t get her words to leave my mind.

when it reached 1am and her words still hadn’t left me, i knew to the only option was to call her. i was soaked just thinking about her, i was desperate. i’d pushed my feelings away for way too long and i couldn’t help myself any longer.

i unlocked my phone and found her contact, clicking on the ‘call’ button with shaky movements. she answered in the first ring, her voice keeping the usual soft edge to it. the one that she only used when she was talking to me. i could hear the smile on her face as she spoke.

“hey pretty, everything okay? i only dropped you home a couple hours ago.”

“i.. billie.” i breathed out. i didn’t even know how to word what i needed.

“tell me, love. what’s the matter?” she sounded more concerned now because of my lack of words.

“i.. need you.” i admitted quietly, closing my eyes, worried for her response.

i knew she wouldn’t react badly, she told me to call her, but i was just nervous to admit it.

“i’m on my way.” i heard her smirk.

“hurry. please.” i groaned, laying my head back and listening to her moving around her room.

i heard her grab her keys, put her shoes on, lock her door, the slam of her car door. the whole time she was driving to my house, we stayed on call making small conversation. it felt like forever before i heard her car pulling into my driveway. i didn’t even need to unlock the door for her, she already had a key.

once i heard her walk into my house, i ended the call and waited for her to come to my room.

the second she was in my room, her lips found mine. her hands were all over me, finding the waistband of my shorts almost immediately.

“bil.. i haven’t-“

“shh, it’s okay i’ve got you. no need to tell me, just let me take care of you.” she cut me off.

i nodded and allowed her hand to slip lower, under my shorts and into my underwear. her fingers slid through my soaked folds, my wetness getting on her knuckles just from brushing against my underwear. the tips of her fingers pushed inside me, causing me to let out a breathy moan.

her thumb was resting over my clit, and when her fingers pushed completely inside me, her thumb applied more pressure.

“please billie! please touch me more.” i pouted and scraped my nails along the sheets.

“no need to hurry, baby. let me make you feel good, take my time, yeah?”

i whined in response. as long as she was here i was happy, so i nodded, but my back still arched up, longing for more. her fingers weren’t too quick, nor too slow. they were perfect.

she knew what i needed. like she’d had my body memorised for years. as if this wasn’t the first time she’d ever touched me this way. i could feel my walls clench perfectly around her fingers, my juices getting all over them.

she found the perfect spot soon enough, making me cry out her name, practically begging for her. that was when her thumb moved away. her fingers kept working inside me, but her tongue replaced her thumb. this was going way better than i could’ve imagined, and i thought that my constant daydreaming about her was perfect.

she flicked, sucked, and carefully bit on my clit, giving me as much pleasure as she could without overwhelming me. that was what got me close. ready to cum.

“that’s it, pretty girl. let go for me.”

she moved away from my pussy, just for a moment to speak, before going right back at it. when my walls were basically crushing her fingers, she worked faster to make me finish. and it worked. i was sent straight over the edge, moaning out her name loud. i tried to stay quiet, considering the time, but she was just too good. too perfect.

“there you go. so perfect for me. took my fingers so good.” she spoke against my lips, carefully pulling her fingers out at the same time, using her words as a distraction.

we got cleaned up after a few minutes of laying in each others arms, and when we were curled up together under my blankets, freshly showered. and i was falling asleep, i heard her speak.

“i get the job done, hm baby?”

“definitely. thank you billie.” i mumbled, before falling asleep with my face pressed against her chest.

#billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #fanfic #fanfiction #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #wlw #wlw post #billie eilish smut #wlw smut #wlw blog #smut #the giver

153 notes · View notes

rafesbabygirlx · 2 days ago

Note

hi im new hear but I absolutely love your smuts. I specifically love how they're written where you could imagine the reader any way but I was wondering if I could specifically request a plus sized reader? If not that's completely fine but I was specifically wondering if you could do a rafe's first time with a girl he actually loves and he's terrified to mess it up please. Also reader being a virgin and a pouge.

dont forget to take care of yourself love <3

Hi sweetie <3

I appreciate your sweet words. You have no idea how much they mean to me!

You're right, I don't usually give my readers any attributes for the reason of imagining whoever you want but I am always happy to write something that gives some sort of representation to some! I hope I do her justice and I hope you like <3

Coming back to note but I couldn’t help make this super sweet and sappy. Wanted reader to feel special and wanted Rafe’s nerves throughout the date and build up to their first time. I am a bit nervous to post this btw 🥲

𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 - 𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎!𝚙𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖, 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎- 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍

You sat at the beach with your friends, thinking about what Rafe had planned for you and him later that night. The cool breeze brought you back to reality, you wore a sexy red 2 piece that flaunted every inch of your curves.

You and Rafe had been together for 8 months now, and tonight you planned to get serious with him. You had never been with anyone the way you have with Rafe. Compared to the girls who you’ve seen him with before, you didn’t think he’d look once in your direction.

You’ve never been ashamed of your body. Even around your friends. You watch the way Kie and Sarah come up from the water with their slim legs and toned abs. But you just weren’t built like that and you loved that about yourself. You were a bit taller, thighs thicker, ass fatter, breasts were more filling in your tops, stomach poked out a bit. But you felt hot in your skin and that’s all that mattered.

What you’d never expect is to be with the Kook Prince himself. Looks matters to him. Image mattered to him. He worked out 5-6 days a week. You worked out with him from time to time. You loved the way his eyes would follow you up and down when you’d squat.

He was pure muscle. The girls before you matched his image. Long, skinny, and toned. Again, it didn’t bother you because the way he adores every inch of you, drowns any thought of it.

The day that he came up to you, palms sweating, avoiding eye contact, asking you if he could take you out for the first time you were taken aback. You’d never really interacted with him in the past. You’ve seen the way he acted though. You knew he was Sarah’s brother, you knew your friends hated him. But you were never mingled into all that mess. You’d stay quiet on the sidelines.

Your first date he took you to a small restaurant on the mainland. It was a simple place, cozy. He asked you a million questions, to learn all about you. You work a simple black dress, one that hugged you in all the right places. He couldn’t keep his hands off you.

The second date he brought you a gift of all the little things you mentioned on the first. He learned all about your favorite hobbies and even began to open up about him a bit.

The third date ended with his lips finally meeting yours and you both knew at that moment you were hooked.

Your friends weren’t happy at first when you brought up the dates. But Sarah mentioned a shift in his attitude and she saw how you meant the world to him. She didn’t see a shred of doubt when he’d speak about you. The other Pogues were going to have to get used to it because you know from that moment you kissed you were totally smitten over the Kook Prince.

His friends never understood how you two ended up together. Kelce and Topper would try to push his buttons about your size and how you were a Pogue. But nether mattered to Rafe. You made him feel seen and wante. Nothing anyone in his life had ever done for him.

Those dates were 8 months ago. Tonight was your 8 month anniversary. You were ready. Rafe was patient with you. He was kind and sweet and even made attempts to make amends with the Pogues for the sake of you. They could all see it by this point. You were so happy in your relationship.

Rafe was as nervous wreck making sure tonight was perfect. You had expressed your motives recently and knew you were finally feeling ready and he wanted to make every moment special for you tonight. What you didn’t know was that this was his first time too. He had an image as player but all those girls that hung around him and tried to get with him, he’d never let them.

He could feel his hands tremble as he drove to the other side of the island. He could already feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He needed tonight to be perfect. Just for you. For the both of you.

He arrived at your house to pick you up at 3, you emerged from your house in a silk sage green dress he’d sent to you for tonight. A slit so high up your thigh he thought he couldn’t faint from the sight of your leg peaking through as you strutted towards him. Adorned with the gold jewelry he’d showed you with over the past few months - you told him he didn’t have to but he was never one to listen. Once you met him, next to his truck, he was swarmed with the scent of you. Vanilla. Head to toe in vanilla. It was the first thing that drew him into you when he first approached.

The warmth of the sweet scent enveloped him when you wrapped your arms around his waist. He wiped the palms of his hands on the pants of his suit before wrapping his arm around you, running down yours feeling the softness of your skin. Taking you all in. You pulled back slighted to look up at him.

“Hi,” your eyes beamed looking into the ocean blue abyss of his.

Rafe smiled back down at you. “Hi. You look - wow.”

His eyes raking you in, mouth that’s stuck open, and loss of words has you giggling.

“Such a way with words, Mr. Cameron. Could you at least tell me what we’re doing?” You cock your head to the side in a teasing way.

“Can’t that’s a surprise. Come on now, we’ll miss the ferry.” He helped you grab your overnight bag, placing it in the trunk of his car. He raced back over to the passenger side before you could reach the handle, opening the door for you. Following every rule he drilled into his head.

“Such a gentleman,” you smirked as he helped you up into the car.

He got in and started heading towards the ferry. His hand was on your thigh. Kneading the supple flesh, it’s become some sort of coping mechanism for him when his mind races. You felt content. The car was silent and you peaked over to take a look at Rafe. His eyes were steady on the road, cheeks were flush and jaw was tense. Your hand loved on top of his rubbing soft circles into the top of it.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m perfect.” He forced a smile at you, fighting through the nerves.

“Are you sure, the quiet is normal but your never usually this tense around me.”

“I’m ok, I just want tonight to be perfect. For you. For us.” He took a sigh of relief, finally able to get that off his chest.

“Rafe, I get to be with you tonight. It’s already perfect. I promise.”

An hour later you reached the mainland. You and Rafe walked along the storefronts on the boardwalk, stopping in front of a pottery shop. Something you used to love to do before you had given up all extra curriculums to work to help your mom.

He lead you inside, your favorite music was playing, the lights were dim and a bouquet of your favorite flowers were sitting on the table. You turned to Rafe with a huge smile on your face. He cupped your cheeks pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

You each sat with a pile of clay in front of you. Rafe snickered as he pulled a screen in between the two of you. You fake gasped at the action, a giggle following after.

“Let’s surprise each other.”

You and Rafe got to work on each other’s pieces. It was about 3 hours to finish. Between making, painting, and firing, the two of you spent the time in a peaceful quiet.

When each piece was done. You couldn’t wait to present so you needed to go first. It was a ring holder painted in his favorite colors. Included was a small stand to hold a photo of the 2 of you. Rafe smiled from ear to ear, then placed a kiss on your temple.

“My turn, go ahead baby.” He placed the object in your hands.

It was a vase, covered in handmade seashells with the words - “yours forever and always. Rafey.” carved into it.

Tears welled into your eyes. 2 of your favorite things. Seashells- from when you told Rafe you and your dad would walked the beach collecting them before he passed. Flowers- the one extra thing you buy yourself with tips from the country club every week. That extra thing that became you and Rafe’s where every Sunday morning you were greeted by a new flower delivery.

“Thank you Rafe, I love it,” he wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Leaving another lingering kiss on your lips.

“Come on Angel, we’ve got reservations.” You follows him out of the studio, gifts in hand.

The car arrived in front of the beach front restaurant where the two of you had your first date. You fought back tears as you realized where you were. Rafe greeted the host at the entrance, trying to keep his cool for you. You passed the table you two sat at for the first time and followed the host outside to a secluded patio rimmed with candles and flower petals. The two of you shared stories, ate in a comfortable silence and spent time just listening to the ocean waves embraced in each other.

You and Rafe made your way to the hotel. Nerves wreaking havoc through the both of you.

You feel ready. You know you’re ready. You’ve just never felt anything like this and that’s what made you nervous. Rafe has showered you with love these past 8 months. You dived into the deep end and you never thought anyone could love you this much. It’s making you over think. Getting to this point means everything and what if you end up ruining it.

In Rafe’s mind he’s worried HE’s going to be the reason everything gets ruined with you. He’s ashamed this will be his first time too. He thinks he should know something. How to make sure you’re comfortable, how to treat you, how to make you feel good and he knows nothing. His mind is whirling, his hands are sweating again. He’s terrified but too terrified to let you know.

The hotel room is once again littered with flower petals and candles, mirroring the serene scene of your dinner. You sat quietly at the edge of the bed watching Rafe place your bags on the couch in the corner of the room. He turned and just stared at you.

“Come sit,” you motioned by patting the empty spot next you.

Rafe obliged, crossing the room and taking the seat next to you. His hand immediately went to your thigh, kneading the soft skin.

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong.” You readjust to face him.

“Nothing is wrong. I’m perfectly happy.” He fakes but you’ve gotten to know his little tics since being with him. He’s lying through his teeth, pretending to be alright.

“You’re not and that okay. Just tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours.”

“I’m nervous, okay? I want this night to be perfect for you and I’m a nervous wreck that it won’t be.”

“What would make you think it won’t be?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You’re taken aback just a bit by the confession. “You’re a..?”

“Yeah I’m a virgin. It’s embarrassing I know.” Rafe ran his hands up and down his face. Cheeks flushed a cherry red and hot to the touch.

“Why would you think that’s embarrassing? I’m a virgin too.”

“Because I’m not sure if I know how to make you feel good the way you should.”

You couldn’t believe it for a second. You were at a loss for words. The Rafe Cameron was a virgin? The same Rafe Cameron who had girl swarming him at every chance during a party? Your eyes softened as you took a real good look at him. He really was nervous.

“I think you hang around your friends a little too much. I’m just as nervous. But I’m ready. I was ready before you told me and I’m ready now. I want you Rafe, even if that means learning this together. Please?”

Rafe looked at you with wide eyes. He was so in love with you. He was so ready for you. The proclaimed player of OBX waited his whole life for someone to give all of himself to and that person was you. “You got me.”

“You’be been full of surprises all night. Now it’s my turn.” You stood from the bed, grabbing your duffle and taking it to the bathroom with you.

As Rafe waited he pulled your vase out with the flowers from the pottery shop and placed them on the table. Then he grabbed his new ring holder. Placing the three rings from his finger onto it admiring it for a few seconds before returning to the bed.

You returned to the bedroom a few moments later. Rafe lifted his head and his jaw dropped. You were a sight for sore eyes. A literal dream pulled from his sleep and brought into real life. An angel sent down from heaven to save him.

You stood there, one hand on the doorframe. The other resting on your full hip. In nothing but a two piece lace lingerie set. Your thighs thick and luscious, your breasts on full display for him.

You walked over to him and stood in between his legs. His hands ran from the back of your knees, up your thighs, to your butt giving it a firm squeeze. It was like all his nerves rushed out the window the minute he laid his eyes on you. He just wanted to be engulfed in your body.

“I’m ready for you Rafe.” You spoke softly but confidently.

“You know I love the way you look right? How I can hold you like this. I’ve never wanted anything more.” He said back before pressing light kisses along your stomach.

You moved past him to lay on the bed. Rafe stood and slowly removed his clothing until he was just in his boxers. He climbed on the bed and hovered over you. His arms a bit unsteady as the thought of what is about to happen settles in. But the excitement of making love to his girl means more.

He took his time making sure you were okay with his next moves. No more words were being shared. The both of you too indulged in the moment. The movements between you two were enough communication.

You arched your back as he undid the clasp of your bra. Revealing your large perky breasts. He holds both of them in his hands as his mouth slowly descends onto one of your nipples as his swirls his tongue around it.

He sat up and removed his boxers. Rafe was on full display and you gulped softly at his size. He reached the hem of your panties, looking back up at you for approval. Once you nodded he slowly pulled them down and off.

He leaned back down so you were chest to chest. He lined himself up with you and slowly pushed himself inside. You let out a gasp at the feeling. There it was, that infamous pop. Your cherry was popped. Your innocence gone. You thought you could hear it happen for a second. You had no regrets of it now missing from your life. The right person took it. Your person.

Rafe stalled for a second. Waiting for the discomfort in your face to leave before rocking his hips against yours. The sound of your skin rubbing together was music to his ears. All his nerves of wanting this night to be perfect were gone. Because this night turn out to be more than perfect.

He began to pick up the pace just a bit. You felt so good around him. He wasn’t bound to last long. But he wanted you to finish too. Rafe knew what to do, he’d just never done it on anyone before. He took initiative and sat up. He lifted your thighs to get you at a better angle. One hand kneaded at the skin of your plump hip, the other came down to your clit. His thumb started rubbing circles to the speed of his hips.

You let out soft moans letting him know how good he’s doing. You weren’t quite ready to get loud yet, but he got the point. He sped up a little bit more when he knew you liked what he was doing.

Eventually your back arched and you came. Your legs shook around Rafe’s waist and you let out the most beautiful sounds. This got Rafe to his point. He came and collapsed onto you.

Here you were, 8 months later with the love of your life. You were someone who was doubted by many on his side of the island. Talked about, talked down to. Made it seem like she wasn’t worth Rafe’s time or trouble. But now he was the one you were falling asleep with as he was nestled in between your breasts. Just like how it felt like it was meant to be.

Tags + some moots 💕

@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @littlelamy @maybankslover @nemesyaaa @writingroom21

145 notes · View notes

yesihaveaobsession · 3 days ago

Text

Beneath the Static: Alastor’s Breaking Point

Alastor x female!reader

Summary: Alastor like the reader (you) but never announced it until Mimzy comes around and pokes around the bush.

A/N- This mini request was from @hazbin-collection I did half of it because I might write the other half in another fic, so I hope it's okay! And I hope y'all enjoy :)

You'd always known Alastor—and the bit of a mystery he was. The smooth-talking, always-grinning guy was the very definition of unreadable. While you could feel something in the way his gaze lingered when you laughed at one of Angel Dust’s bad jokes, or how he just so happened to show up whenever you needed help—even if you hadn’t called for him... he never said anything.

That day, you were sitting on the plush furniture in your usual spot, sipping some tea and flipping through a worn book, while Alastor stood a few feet away, speaking animatedly with Charlie and Vaggie—probably about the hotel or something. That’s when the doors swung open with a flair.

“Miiiimzy!” Charlie greeted with a surprised smile.

The platinum-haired flapper floated into the room like she owned it, dripping with glitter and sass. She greeted everyone with a bright smile—until her eyes landed on you. You hadn’t been there since the last time she showed up, and judging by everyone’s faces, you pieced together that they were all surprised she had the audacity to come back.

As Mimzy looked you up and down, her painted-on smile twitched. You weren’t sure why.

“Oh. And who’s this?” Mimzy’s voice was sugary, with a bitter aftertaste. “The hotel really has changed, hasn’t it?”

Alastor’s smile didn’t budge, but his eyes snapped sharply to Mimzy.

“This is Y/N,” Charlie said, still chipper. “She’s been staying with us for a while. Everyone here adores her.”

Mimzy tilted her head, clearly unimpressed. “Adorable, sure. She’s got a... rustic kind of charm, I suppose. Like a chipped teacup. Functional, if you squint.”

Your fingers froze around your teacup. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You weren’t one to pick fights—especially in a place like the hotel—but the jab stung.

Before you could open your mouth, Alastor’s laugh cut through the room like static.

“Hehehe~! Oh, Mimzy, still as sharp-tongued as ever.”

You glanced up. His tone was jovial, but there was something tight in his voice. Controlled.

“But do be careful,” he added, stepping closer, his shadow stretching oddly long across the floor. “Wouldn’t want that silver tongue of yours to rust with all that petty spite, now would we?”

Mimzy blinked. “Excuse me?”

Alastor’s smile grew wider—maybe a little too wide.

“Y/N has done more for this hotel and its guests than you’ve ever bothered to, my dear Mimzy. She’s clever, warm-hearted, and doesn’t need sequins to shine.”

You just stared at Alastor—and frankly, so did everyone else. He never spoke like that. Certainly never about someone. Especially not about you. Your heart couldn’t help but skip.

“She’s not here to impress you,” he continued, his voice dipping into something darker. “And I don’t recall anyone asking for your opinion on her worth.”

Mimzy’s eyes narrowed. “Well. Aren’t we touchy.”

Alastor’s grin flickered. “Only when it’s warranted.”

There was a tense silence before Mimzy rolled her eyes and flounced toward the bar. “Whatever. I need a drink.”

Once she was out of earshot, Alastor glanced your way. His voice softened, just a bit.

“Apologies, my dear. Mimzy’s… well. She’s Mimzy.”

You gave a small smile, touched. “Thanks. I didn’t think you cared that much.”

Alastor cleared his throat and looked away, the red in his eyes glowing faintly, though his smile didn’t fade. “I don’t care for rudeness. That’s all.”

But he refused to meet your eyes the rest of the night.

And you knew—he definitely cared more than he’d ever admit.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #i have an obsession

118 notes · View notes

spidercatweb · 2 days ago

Text

Perfect Match ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: fem!bau!reader, a little bit of jealous!Spencer 😊, plenty of nervous!Spencer, fluff, a tiny bit of angst i guess, happy ending, r uses dating apps, Garcia and r are besties!!, umm nothing else!

Description: Garcia's wonderful idea of getting r to use dating apps to find her perfect match is not working very well. Spencer gets a little distant when r mentions her plans for a date. r confronts him about this, which leads to confessions, a cancelled date, and a date to take it's place. <3

Word Count: 1,843

Request: "for spencer x reader? early spencer is too shy to ask reader out but reader starts talking about dating and dating apps and Spencer gets really jealous and ends up telling reader he likes them but hes a stuttering mess the whole time?"

A/n: oh em gee 😈😈😈 i enjoyed writing this... i have no experience w dating apps so uhh idk 🤷‍♀️ but i hope this is what you asked for! <3

You weren’t desperate for a boyfriend, you were just getting tired of waiting for the right guy to miraculously appear. So, per Garcia’s suggestions, dating apps seemed to be the best choice. She had also suggested speed-dating at one point, but that was definitely not your thing. So, dating apps it was.

For the past few weeks, you’d spent around twenty minutes a day on these apps. So far, you haven’t had any luck.

Boring. Gross. Likely to become an unsub.

These were the types of men you’d been seeing on the several dating apps you had downloaded.

Maybe the problem was that you were looking for perfect.

On a slow day at the BAU, you sat in Garcia’s office. Her chair was pulled up close to yours as she peered over at your phone screen. It was fun to look at different men’s profiles with a friend.

“Come on, he’s cute!” Garcia swoons.

“No!” He looks like that enucleator we caught last week.” You laugh, swiping left.

Garcia sighs dramatically, “You’re no fun. If you keep up with that attitude you’ll never find a date!” She nudges you with her shoulder while catching a glimpse of the new profile that appeared on your screen.

“I just have standards! Unlike some people.” You tease.

Your attention flashes back to your phone screen. You swipe through the man’s several photos. Attractive. And none of him holding up a fish he caught, that’s a good start. “Hmm.” You go to read his profile information.

“Enjoys reading, quiet nights in, and… horror movies. Okay…” You nod slowly, “Average height, same age as me. Aww, he has a cat.”

“Perfect! I don’t need to know anything else! Swipe right, give him a chance!” Penelope urges you to swipe right.

“Okay,” you giggle, “But if he’s a creep it’s your fault!”

“Oh if he’s a creep, I’ll find out before you do. I am definitely going to background check every single one of your potential partners. Only the best for my girl.”

Your investigation of another man’s profile is interrupted by a knock at the door of Penelope's office.

“Come in!” She shouts loud enough for whoever’s on the other side of the door to hear.

Spencer enters the room with a slight look of confusion on his face, “Hi. What are you guys doing?” He closes the door behind him.

Garcia cheerily explains the situation, “Well, I’m helping Y/n find her dream man. She’s very picky though, maybe you could help find her perfect match with that genius brain of yours.”

“Oh, um-” he laughs nervously, “how exactly are you finding her perfect match? And, statistically speaking, it’s incredibly rare for someone to find their so-called perfect match. There are too many variables to consider. You’d need a very specific set of traits, and of course, nobody is perfect-”

Garcia cuts him off, something she doesn’t do often, “Ah ah ah! You will not make her feel like this is useless!” She points a finger in his face. “And we’ve got her on a few dating apps, of course. Also, not that I don’t enjoy your company, because I love it very much, but why are you in here?”

“JJ wanted you to see her in her office, something about a new case, I think. She texted you but you weren’t answering.”

“Oh I’m so sorry! I guess I was pretty distracted. I’ll go see her right away!” She hops up from her chair and heads towards the door, “You two lovelies have fun while I’m gone! Don’t touch my tech!”

You both giggle as she leaves the room.

An awkward silence washes over the two of you as you’re left alone. You swivel slightly in your chair, phone in hand, your bright screen shows a photo of a man you and Penelope were looking at before Spencer came in. You catch Spencer staring at it from across the room, so you shut your phone off and laugh nervously.

“I, um- Garcia wanted me to try some dating apps, she thinks I’m lonely.” You laugh slightly, “I really don’t know how people are okay with just dating absolute strangers who they know nothing about. That’s really scary to me, I’d much rather date someone I’m already friends with.” You hope Spencer doesn’t think too hard about that last part. Because it would certainly be embarrassing if he figured out you meant him. You’d much rather date him.

“Romantic relationships started online do tend to have a higher failure rate than relationships started in person. And romantic relationships started with someone you’re already close with have the highest rate of success. I really don’t see how people could form a meaningful connection with someone they’ve never met or even spoken to before. I think I would find it hard, not even hearing someone’s voice.” Spencer fidgets with the sleeve of his sweater.

You nod your head, agreeing with him. “I don’t know why I’m using dating apps. It’s not like I have time to date anyway. I spend all my time here.” You huff out a sad laugh.

“No- you- you deserve to have someone, you shouldn’t say that.” Spencer strides closer to you, leaning against Penelope’s desk. “I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually. I mean, you’re incredibly intelligent, you’re funny, kind, attractive-” He pauses, stopping himself, “It’s really only a matter of time.” A slight blush tints his cheeks, he gives you a kind smile.

You look up at him, mirroring his smile. “I guess so.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t had much luck then? With dating apps, I mean.”

“No, not really. But there is this one guy I’ve been talking to.”

“Oh.” he nods, you notice something in his eyes. Disappointment? He was never very good at hiding his feelings. “What's he like?”

“Well, his name is Nick. We’ve been talking for about… a week? I think? We might go on an actual date soon, I think I’m going to ask him.” You grin, thinking about the kind exchanges you’d been having with the man.

“That- That’s really nice. I hope it goes well.” No extra statistics, straight to the point. Odd.

***

A conversation later that day led to you actually asking Nick on a real, in-person date. You only have so much free time, why not spend it enjoying yourself? So, that was it. You officially had a date scheduled for Saturday night. Only three days away.

***

Nothing of note happened for the next three days,though you did see Spencer acting differently. Less rambles, less conversations in the break room, more silent glances he thought you didn’t notice.

At the end of the day on Friday, you catch him before he gets to the elevator. “Spence!”

He turns around to face you, clearly a little startled, “Yeah?” He clutches the strap of his satchel that goes across his chest.

“Are you- Did I do something? Why haven’t you been talking to me?” You attempt to keep a neutral tone, but sadness seeps through.

“I have been talking to you, what do you mean? We talked about the case today-”

“No. You know what I mean, Spencer. You haven’t- went on a fifteen minute ramble about like- sea urchins and their contributions to the ecosystem- or whatever. You’ve been avoiding me.” You can barely look him in the eyes. He’s been one of your closest friends for years and now he’s acting differently. It hurts.

He rushes to explain himself, “Y/n, no. I- You were um-” He pauses. Lying will only make it worse. “You told me about how you were going on dating apps, and how- how you’re going on a date this weekend and-” He takes a breath, “It just really- I was jealous.” He sighs, his face reddens immediately.

“What?” Did I just hear that correctly? Jealous?

“I was jealous I-” He runs his hands over his face, “I am jealous. I’m sorry.”

“So you… are jealous… that I’m going on a date?” You’re still confused.

He nods slowly, avoiding eye contact with you. His face gets more red by the second.

“Because… you want to go on a date with me?” You feel your cheeks warming up, your tone is soft, you ask the question carefully.

“I-” He clears his throat, “Yes. I really- Yeah.” He sighs like he was holding his breath. “I’m sorry, that’s so unprofessional, and I know I shouldn’t treat you differently because of how I feel. I should’ve been thinking about how it would affect the team-”

It takes you two tries to interrupt his nervous ramble, “Spencer.”

His mouth hangs slightly open, you stopped his train of thought completely.

“If you really feel that way, then I’d love to go on a date with you.” You give him a reassuring smile.

He stays silent for a few moments, processing. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You nod.

His smile grows, “Yeah?” he huffs out a surprised laugh. “But what about your other date?”

You giggle, “He- I think he’ll understand. I’m also pretty sure Garcia found some weird stuff about him while she was snooping around so…”

“Ah. Okay.” He nods, “So when… When were you thinking? I mean you don’t have to decide right now of course.”

You can’t hold back a giddy smile. “How about tomorrow? Lunch at the cafe by the used book store?”

“That sounds really nice.” He nods again, eagerly.

“Okay, great. Um- does sometime around twelve work? I can text you when I’m on my way?” You fidget nervously with your necklace.

“Yeah, of course.”

You both stand silently for a few moments, both in disbelief that this is actually happening.

“Um- I should-” Spencer points behind him to the elevator doors.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Your face warms even more, you’d forgotten he was about to leave, “See you tomorrow.”

He echoes back, “See you tomorrow.” He grins as he walks into the elevator. As the doors shut in front of him, you both wave happily at each other.

***

Penelope comes running out from the glass doors of the BAU, “What was that!?” She rapidly waves a pointed finger between you and the elevator.

“Nothing! It was nothing! I was just saying goodnight!” You laugh nervously.

“Liar!! I know that face!” She gasps, “You asked him out!? Oh my gosh! Finally!!” She takes your wordless grin as a yes, and catches you in a tight hug. “You two are going to be so cute, I just know it!” she lets you out of her grasp, “And I won’t tell anyone, pinkie promise.”

***

The Tuesday after your’s and Spencer’s date –which went extremely well, ending with a promised second date after your next case– you notice the rest of the team snickering about the two of you not-so-subtly. The next time you see Penelope, you give her a knowing glare, but you don’t scold her. Really, it’s better the team finds out now rather than later, in some horribly embarrassing way. Unfortunately, this means you’ll have to be signing some paperwork soon.

Thank you for reading! <3

Feedback is very much appreciated!

My requests are open!

🪻

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #🪻📖#🪻🐝

114 notes · View notes

mywritersmind · 10 hours ago

Text

SILVERWARE - LN4 spy au

summary : She gets flirted with all the time, called hot by attractive men, offered drinks by ugly ones. She’s seen it all. Tonight however, is a first for her. Called beautiful by a stunning man himself, and shooting the same one twenty minutes later.

listen up : spy!landonorris. suggestive comments. blood. guns. talk of sewing skin. knives. fighting!! hope you enjoy! this is very different from what i normally write but i loveeeed it! also spy carlos cameo.

words : 4615

⋆｡‧˚⋆

He’s been watching her. She knows it. It’s only a relief to one of them when he finally walks up to her and gives her the peace of mind that he wasn’t about to kill her.

She wants to say something first, but then she remembers her role. A role that isn’t too hard to play when a handsome curly haired man is trying to flirt with her.

“I’m sorry to bother you… I don’t know if you noticed me staring… building up the courage to talk to someone so gorgeous is harder than you’d think.” she switches her drink into her other hand and smiles innocently, liking the sound of his accent against the chatter filled room.

“With a face like that, you don’t need to apologize.” She sips out of the martini glass, her lipstick transferring on, “And thank you.”

“I’m Bob.” She doesn’t laugh, but is tempted. Instead she eyes his hand that’s being offered to her and shakes it. His eyes are a mix of blueish green, something only she could pick up in this environment.

He watches her face as she tries not to laugh, something he’s seen far too often when introducing himself with that name. Her hands are soft, his a bit ragged, but they both notice the shocking difference in size as they pull away. “Nic.”

“You here all alone, Nic?” His eyes still glance to the crowd, making sure to not miss the one thing he’s here for.

He knows he would get scolded for getting distracted, but he could easily argue that she was simply too beautiful to overlook. She wouldn’t get scolded, she’s a great multitasker and her team knows it.

“I’m here with my friend.” She lies, “She went off with someone a while ago. You?”

“Alone.” He nods, “Much happier now though, this is horribly boring.”

She nods at this, “Less boring when you’re a few drinks in.” She isn’t a few drinks in, in fact, she’s regretfully been sipping on the same martini for two hours.

He smiles at this, something devastating because she knows she won’t see his stunning smile again after this sad little conversation. He’s stunning and his smile is something she would love to explore.

She eyes his suit, perfectly fitted to him with a couple buttons undone. He likes her dress. It hugs her body with a perfect elegance, an almost hidden slit is what draws him in the most, that and her straps practically falling off her shoulders.

He doesn’t know that the slit is for easy access, and not the sexual kind. The metal kind that is strapped to her thigh and loaded.

She looks around the room, eyeing the man she’s been watching. What she doesn’t expect, is him to look at her. She turns quickly back to Bob, stepping closer and resting a well manicured hand on his chest, touching the collar of his shirt. “Breaking dress code… how bad boy of you.”

He smirks at her touch as she tilts her head, “What if I said a kid nicked it off me?”

Her fingers slip below the fabric, “I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Smart girl.” He says. It makes her want to roll her eyes but she’s quickly distracted by the hand that rests on her waist. “I like your dress.”

“You like my dress or how my boobs look in my dress?” her manner drops for a second, something she can’t help. To her luck, he laughs.

“Both?” He watches her eyes, knowing she can’t decide between being charmed or confused. He really has got to work on that-

“I’ve got to go.” She says suddenly, backing away. His eyes dart to the figure moving across the room.

“Me too! Lovely meeting-” But she’s already gone, taking off in the other direction, her drink discarded on the bar counter. He shakes his head, walking away and trying to focus on the job at hand, not the beautiful woman who just left him in her dust.

⋆༺

The gun is in her hand now, pointed at an old man who’s struggling to open a door. He clumsily fiddles with the key, apologizing over and over again to the three men that stand behind him. They don’t seem to care, standing pin straight in their suits.

The one in the middle is who she turns her gun at, Mickey Chavez. Her old partner and new target. The two behind him are the large, silent, you look at Mickey wrong and you die, type.

The hallway is long and shaded at both ends, she stands in the corner, looking around it with her gun poking out just enough. She won’t shoot, not yet.

The man finally gets the door open and she knows what she has to do. Except, someone seems to do it for her. Right as her trigger is pulled, two shots are fired but not from her gun. The two men fall to the floor in agony.

Her shot flew right over their heads and landed in the wall. She never misses. What the hell is happening?

The two men weren’t shot to kill, they hop around and groan because they were shot in their… feet?

She turns the corner, her gun out and her eyes narrowed, ready to meet whoever just ruined her perfect shot.

She expects someone she knows, at this point, she knows every woman and man on the circuit. She does recognize his face, but she’s never held a gun to him before, she only held her hand out.

“What the fuck!?” They say at the exact same time. He’s standing in the exact same position as her but at the opposite end of the hallway. They shoot at the same time, Y/n ducking even though the shot was nowhere close to her head. Lando turns, trying to get out of the way but the bullet grazes the back of his arm.

“Bob!?”

He groans, “Why is it always the pretty ones!?”

And then the hallways fills with gunshots.

In a temporary lapse of insanity, they apparently both forgot the two wounded men had guns.

She ducks instinctively, rolling to the side and shooting right back. Mickey doesn’t carry a gun, she knows this. It’s the exact reason why the old man and Mickey dive into the room and shut the door.

One man is running at her, a flash of blue behind him tells her that ‘Bob’ (Something she definitely knows is fake now) is charging at the other man.

The one that comes at her is honestly short, which makes her smile. It isn’t a long time until he’s on the floor in front of her. Thank you seven years of training and a lipstick taser.

He’s knocked out, slumped at her feet. She steps politely over him and struts down the hallway in her red bottomed heels. The other bodyguard is still fighting with the handsome not so stranger, something she rolls her eyes at as she shoves the door open.

“Y/n!” Mickey screams, scrambling up from the door and clearly not expecting her.

“Mouse!” She scoffs, using his old codename and pointing her gun at him. “Get on the wall or I shoot!”

“What are you doing here?” He stands, pulling his knife out. Ah yes, Mickey was always one for theatrics.

“Take a guess.” She steps closer, glancing at the whimpering old man, “Shut up, you’re not gonna die. You will be going to jail for having a hand in a murder and tampering with evidence!” She yells probably louder than needed, but so worked up about this case. “Oh and jewel theft.”

She glances at the giant glass box with a crown in it. The historic fashion girly in her wants to totally geek out over seeing the jewels but when the light hits them, she looks back at Mickey. “I always hated you.”

He rolls his eyes, “It’s cause i’m gay, isn’t it.”

She shoots the wall behind him, “You’re not funny either. You sold me out! You were a shitty spy and now you’re a lousy thief.”

“I had to!” He whines as ‘Bob’ runs in behind her, out of breath and heading straight for the old man.

“Cut the shit and get on the ground!” I yell, “Where’s the crown.”

‘Bob’ is already getting to work on the glass, having tied up the old man already. He raises a brow but doesn’t say anything as he cuts the glass with a tool from his suit pocket.

“It’s right there!” He points to the glass, frowning.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” she hears the dropping of glass as she keep my eyes on Mickey, and then, because apparently no one trusts her, Bob drops to the floor.

What she doesn’t expect is someone to charge through the door and spray her in her shocked face, falling right next to Bob as the world fades away.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

He wakes up hungover with a girl next to him, or at least, that’s what he thinks at first. It wouldn’t be the first time, but they’re both fully dressed and when she wakes up, she screams.

Now that would be a first for him.

She goes to sit up but is yanked back down by something. He looks up and gets a horrible feeling because it’s the same thing on his wrist. Rope. He comes to the horrible realization that the pounding in his head is not from too much alcohol and the sharp pain on his back is not just because he slept funny.

Rope is tight on both of his wrists, except there’s someone else’s skin against one.

One wrist is tied to the headboard, the other is tied… to her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She says, staring at their bound wrists.

Wiggling around a bit, she groans even more, “They took my gun.”

He leans over, not feeling the familiar weight in his pocket, “Same.”

He frowns, not really knowing what to do and going through options in his head. They took his watch, glass cutter, knife- What the fuck is she doing.

Her leg is stretched out in front of her, through the slit in her dress and bending her knee to get her foot close to the banister. He gets distracted for a moment, watching her long tanned leg slip away from the fabric.

“What are you-” He doesn’t need to finish his sentence because she slips the heel of her shoe between the rope and it falls right off. “Christ, you’re flexible.”

She gives him a look, sitting up and untying their wrists, “You’ve got a blade in your heel?” She doesn’t say anything, just slips the rope off and stretches her arms, looking around.

“Who are you?” She turns to him, “Actually. And why are you in my way?” He tries to get himself untied, fiddling with the rope and staying unsuccessful.

“I’m Lando.” He sits up, reaching across him and wondering who tied this horrible knot, “And i’m not in your way- you’re in mine.”

“You’re a spy?” She says, quite rudely in Lando’s opinion.

“I don’t look it?”

She doesn’t respond, standing up and walking around the room that seems to be a basic hotel suite. “Why would they throw us in here…?”

“What’s your name?” Lando asks as she checks the room for weapons and people, peaking into the bathroom, then under the bed… giving Lando a great view of her ass-

She sits up suddenly, sending a sharp look his way. “I told you- It’s Nic.”

“Okay love, you’re awfully pretty but please don’t lie to me. I’m a spy too.” The fact that they met, both armed and on a mission, and She didn’t realize what he was concerned her.

Maybe he’s a better spy than she thought. But then again he didn’t know what she was either. She stands, moving her hair over her shoulder,

“Y/n.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/n. For real this time.” He smiles, “Now… could you help me out here?” He’s still tied up, something that makes Y/n a bit too happy about.

“You’re supposed to be a spy. You’re not good with your hands?” A cool smirk slides over his face.

“If you untie me i’ll let you find out.”

She rolls her eyes at his line and walks over to the window. It’s fully clear, the night sky looking back at them with winks of city lights.

“Y/n.” He says her name softly, something that makes her pause, “I’m on your side- I mean… I want to get out of here as much as you do. And I don’t mind a little competition along the way.”

“Competition you can eliminate easily to win.”

“I pinky promise I won’t hurt you.” He holds up his free hand, sticking his picky finger out with a hopeful smile, “My wrist really hurts.”

She sighs, walking over to him and sitting on the side of the bed, trying to untie him with her hands first. He watches her intently as she makes the attempt. “Hard, isn’t it?”

“Shut up before I make you.” She whips off her heel and cuts him out.

“So I'm the one who should be worried then…” He rubs his wrist, now red and burned, “Doubt i’d mind having you shut me up.”

Her heel is at his throat in seconds, “Say it again, Curly.”

His smirk stays in place on his face, his hands up in surrender, “Jeez love… I’m sorry.”

“Help me with the door.” She slides her shoe back on, something Lando doesn’t understand considering her feet must hurt by now, and walks over to the door.

The second she touches the door handle, she flinches back, “Shit.”

He reaches into his pockets, just to be disappointed. “They took my shock blocker.”

She looks at him, slightly amused as her hand still tingles, “You have a shock blocker?”

“I get electrocuted a lot…”

“Is that how your hair ended up like this?” She steps closer, running a hand through his hair as if they’re back at the bar.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t back away, “Windows are locked?”

She drops her hand. “We’re on the Fiftieth floor. They don’t open at all.”

“Shame.”

“What would you do?” She crosses her arms, “Jump?”

“Better than getting shot again. Thank god they took your gun away-” He turns his arm, showing where he was sliced by the bullet through his suit and skin on the back of his bicep.

“Holy shit!” He’s bleeding still, soaking his shirt with deep crimson as she stares wide eyed at it. “Lando!” She hits, actually hits his arm! “Why didn’t you say anything!?”

She physically drags him by the collar of his shirt, proving to be far stronger than she looks before shoving him back onto the bed that they now realize has blood on it.

“It’s fine- i’m fine…” Until he sees the blood on her hands, making him a little woozy. “Okay maybe not…”

She marches over to the closet, throwing it open and pushing past the fluffy robes and safe, going straight for the tiny emergency kit.

Apparently their kidnappers did not have much time to think because most everything is still in this room. To her luck, there’s a small sewing kit. When he sees her pull out a needle and thread, he tries to get away, “No!”

“Yes.” She slams his shoulders back down, making him groan in pain.

“You are not sewing me up-”

“Yes the fuck I am!” She pulls his jacket off of him, unbuttoning his shirt next. He frowns, watching her hands move and pull the fabric off his skin. She tries not to have her gaze linger on his body, something even a highly trained spy struggles with. “Go ahead, make the dirty joke.”

He smiles despite the pain, “I wasn’t going to. But if you have one i’m all for it-”

Y/n huffs and climbs onto the bed behind him, hiking up her skirt so he can sit between her legs. “It’s going to hurt so just breath, yeah?”

She gets straight to it, wiping the dried blood with a washcloth and piercing his skin with no warning. “Fuck!” He bites his lip, hard. “Ah!”

She scoots her leg closer to him, “Grab my knee.” He does with no hesitation, the pain too great.

He leans his head back, “I hate you. Why did you have to shoot me!? Oh fuck-” She doesn’t cringe at the sight, having to do this to herself too many times. Her hands are shaking though. They always shake when she sees blood.

“Tell me about your mission. Tell me about why you shot those two idiots in the foot- I mean why the foot!?”

“Ugh!” He groans, “Um- I don’t shoot to kill. I can’t- Ow! My mission- to get Mickey. Just Mickey, I don’t know why.” She watches his jaw tense, making her oddly even more attracted to him.

“Interesting… He used to be my partner.” Everything in her screams to not tell him more, but the groan he lets out makes her continue, “Shitty partner. Only uses knives, likes the gore of it I guess. Creepy right? Anyway, He sold me out. Got me kidnapped too so I guess this is the second time.” She sighs, pushing the needle through skin as if it’s nothing.

“That- sucks!” He squeezes her knee tightly, hurting a bit but not complaining since it can’t be worse than what he’s going through.

“I always work alone but my team said I needed to be less of a loner or something- look where that got me.”

Lando chokes out a laugh, “Same- I mean, I only trust myself. Why complicate it?”

His curls brush her shoulder as he leans back into her, “Shit, Are you done yet!?”

“Actually…” She ties it off, “Yes!” She rubs his arm soothingly, something Lando could fall asleep too, “You did good.”

The words and touch combine make him shudder, standing up and rolling his shoulder, “Sorry about the blood…” He looks down at her hands, Her eyes leaving his only to glance at his body.

“I’m sorry about shooting you… And what’d I tell you?” She slides off the bed, “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well if I don’t then you definitely shouldn’t either. You didn’t know who I was.” He shrugs, “You wouldn’t shoot at me now, right?”

Y/n nods slowly, not making him feel any more confident, “Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Curly.” walking past him, she goes straight to the bathroom to wash the blood off her hands.

There’s a bang at the window, making them both jump. Y/n hurries out of the bathroom, Lando pausing as he pulls his shirt back on.

The whole thing happens in seconds, there’s glass everywhere and a breaking noise coming along with it. It’s not very loud, but a glass wall shattering isn’t quiet either.

The man that swings in has a harness on his waist, staring at the two people who hold up a lamp and a hanger to defend themselves. Y/n has no clue who this is, and is even more confused when he laughs.

He pulls his goggle like glasses off, “Wow you look stupid.” She’s about to be offended but then she realizes that his words are directed fully at Lando. He’s got thick dark hair and a spanish accent to match, wearing dirty jeans and a navy button down, he hugs Lando.

“What are you doing here!?” Lando says as if they’re old friends catching up at a highschool reunion! Y/n just drops the lamp and brings her hand to her hair.

“Saving your ass!” The mystery man claps Lando on his back and finally looks at Y/n who has been watching their bromance intently. “Of course you’d get stuck with a pretty one.”

“She shot me!” He says, turning to show his cut just as she groans and stomps over to the two men.

He’s still looking at the cut as if it’s the greatest thing on TV. “Hello!? You said you’re saving our asses?”

“Oh so you’re including yourself?” The man says, “I guess that’s fine.”

“Dude!” Lando says, “I just said she shot me!”

“Yeah mate… I'm taking her with if she got you.” He turns to her again, “Slippery fuck is impossible to shoot in drills, i’m impressed.”

“Back to the issue at hand!” Lando interrupts them, looking disgusted at his friend speaking to her, “You saving us or what?”

Turns out, he is! Lando steps into a harness as the man turns to her, “I’m Carlos, by the way. I don’t usually save Lando’s ass for fun but there was a call and I was the only one in office.”

Y/n smiles at this, liking the man more and more by the second, “I’m Y/n. How’d you get here…?”

“Chopper.” Carlos explains, “Not very inconspicuous so you better hurry!” Lando is all clicked in and ready to go, “Look, Y/n, I only planned on one damsel in distress today so you’re gonna have to piggyback off of Lan.”

Y/n’s heart drops, “Sorry?” but Carlos is already pulling himself back up the building.

“Don’t worry!” Lando smiles, “You trust me, right?”

“No!” Her eyes widen as his hands wrap around her waist, “Lando, No!”

“You’ll be fine, love, we only have one story to go-” he steps closer to the broken glass, the sound making Y/n nauseous as the open air hits her.

“No!” She stops in her tracks, “Lando- You don’t get it. I actually can’t.” Shes a world famous spy, she’s been shot, kidnapped, cut, and used, but her worst fear is still heights. “I’d rather try my luck with the door again.”

Lando stops, understanding her fear now and putting his hands on the sides of her arms, “Y/n. You just put a needle through my skin. I trust you enough to do that. I pinky promised you I wouldn’t hurt you. So please, trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His eyes are so sincere and oddly comforting in the moment.

He’s holding onto her dress only, her hands wrapped around the harness and rope that holds him up. Her eyes squeeze shut as they start dangling. Lando keeps his promise. He doesn’t let go.

It isn’t long until they reach the top, but for Y/n, it feels like years. She didn’t dare open her eyes, still keeping them shut as her heels met the gravel of the roof.

She intends to keep them shut, until she hears a thud. Carlos is on the roof, groaning at the impact as Mickey stands over him with a knife. “No!” Lando jumps into action, tackling Mickey and definitely getting cut in the process.

He’s holding the crown, she realizes. The real one. It gets flung out of his hand and as he scrambles to grab it, Lando kicks him in the stomach.

Y/n forgets every doubt she’s had about the two men, hurrying over to help Carlos, “He just knocked the wind out of me- Just, try to get Lan into the helicopter.” He stands and Y/n runs at Mickey.

This asshole. He sells her information. He gets her kidnapped. He tortures her. He kidnaps her again. And now he wants to hurt her hot new spy man!? No fucking chance.

She sees the knife get slashed across Lando’s chest, his shirt still unbuttoned and barely holding on as they roll around. Carlos is in the helicopter by now, starting it up and yelling over the noise.

Carlos throws a knife at her, apparently having enough faith in the woman who does catch it. “Mouse!” She screams as Lando pushes him off, the two now standing, “You always begged me to spar with silverware only, now’s your chance.”

Mickey grins, malicious and full of a sick want to see her bleed. The crown is on his shoulder, not going anywhere unless someone chops his arm off. If it’s going to be anyone, it will be her.

He runs at her, almost making her want to roll her eyes. Amateur. She stabs the knife right into his shoulder, but he uses these things more than she does, reciprocating the slice across her stomach.

Still, her corset keeps her safe. “Fuck you I liked this dress!” She goes for his chest, then neck, missing both as he sidesteps her.

“Y/n!” Her name is yelled over the whipping of wind, distracting her for a second too long and letting Mickey cut her ankle.

She kicks him in the face, making him fall over and blood start pooling out of his nose, “Cunt!” He yells as her heel grinds into his arm.

He grabs her ankle and twists it, forcing her to the ground and trying to climb over her. He makes an attempt to straight stab her neck but she swerves out of the way.

The movement and grunts next to her makes her realize that it was Lando’s voice who distracted her, the bodyguard from earlier pointing a gun at Lando and Carlos. “Shit, Mickey! You’re ruining my impression with my new friends!”

A knife comes at her again, her shoe intercepting it and making the silver clatter to the ground feet away. She gets him then, Stabbing his collar deep. She looks away, the sound making her sicker than usual. She doesn’t want to kill him, oh no, she wants him alive for what she’s going to do to him.

She doesn’t hesitate, standing up and throwing her knife straight at the bodyguard. Carlos is still in the helicopter, Lando standing below and watching her with wide eyes.

The knife hits the man right in the side of his neck, slicing through far too easy and making him shoot his gun. Except with the knife in his neck, he cries out and misses either of the men, shooting upward.

Lando runs to her without hesitation, “Are you okay!?” Is not what she expects him to say.

“I- yes!? Help me!” Mickey is half passed out, the pain too much. She grabs his feet, Lando grabs his arms.

Carlos helps throw him in, tying his wrists just in case, even though he’s fully out now. By the time they’re in the air, Lando and Y/n aren’t even strapped in.

They’re both breathing heavily, Y/n leaning back into Lando as they turn. His hand goes around her waist again, feeling the cut on her dress and panicking for a moment before he realizes it’s only the fabric. He holds onto the seat, as she leans her head back into him this time.

“I guess that’s why people have partners, huh?” Lando says, holding her tighter in his arms as they turn.

She nods weakly, “We both got what we wanted.” She holds up the glittering crown, proud of herself this time. Even if it took some blood.

“You basically brought my mission to me.” He says, “I owe you.”

She laughs dryly, “Buy me dinner and a a fucking trophy.”

Even though she laughed when she said it, he takes it to heart. “You know… having a partner might not be too bad.”

She looks up at him, her eyes narrowed, “I am not the person for that job.”

He smirks, a sense of warm relief finding its way back into her chest when she sees it, “Thing is love… I think you might be.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris spy au

103 notes · View notes

kurithedweeb · 2 days ago

Text

Dear Sir Garroth,

You may have noticed, if you ever read this, that I did not try to set this letter on fire. Perhaps I should have. I am, after all, still pissed at you and lacking anything better to do. Still bedridden. It hasn't been all that long since my last letter, in truth.

Dante's been visiting us a lot, whenever he can spare the time. He's trying to catch everyone up on what we missed the last fifteen years. He's the only one who's been here the entire time. He never stopped writing reports, so those have been helping some when I can make out the words. Fifteen years and his writing still looks like chicken scratch. At least one thing's still the same.

He has children now. His oldest daughter is six years old. I haven't met her yet. It's hard to imagine Dante as a father when less than a week ago he was sixteen. He turned sixteen in the middle of a war and now he has a six year old daughter. And guess who the mother is? Miss Nana. I remember his cute little crush on her, I remember the way she could make him smile when the rest of us could barely get him to respond at all. They're a good match, aren't they?

She came to see us with Dante. She brought a basket of pastries like she used to bring to the barracks. She made some old favorites to welcome us home. She thought you were with us. She asked where you were.

I couldn't tell her. I couldn't utter a single word. All I could do was sit there, clutching the edge of my cot, eyes on the floor. She figured it out before anyone could explain. She apologized to our lady, and then she sat beside me and put her hand on mine and said nothing. She didn't need to.

So much has happened. Half the village moved away. Dante and Miss Nana are married with a family. All the little ones are grown up. Our little Levin is Lord of Phoenix Drop and can't walk on his own. Cadenza is Lord of Meteli. My father is dead.

For all I know, so are you. I turned back just before I went into the portal. It was only long enough for a glimpse, but I saw him run a sword through you. In your back and out your chest. Did you see me as I turned back? Was I the last thing you saw? I hope I was, if it was between me and him.

I haven't told our lady yet. I haven't told anyone. They still hope that we might be able to go back for you, or that we might be able to find some way to bring you home. I know what I saw, but there's some part of me that thinks you could have survived. If anyone could do it, you could.

I lit a candle for you. You don't know what that means. It's something we do along the Trail for lost souls. We make candles that don't burn out and when someone goes travelling we light one; Dante kept the ones he found in my bunk years ago. The flame is a part of the person the candle is for. It's supposed to guide them home, only going out when someone dies. Your candle is beside me right now. It's been burning bright since I first lit it. I want that to mean you're still alive, but for the first time in my life I'm wondering whether the candle knows. I hope it does. I want you to come home. I want to be there for you the way you were for me. The way you always have been.

My sister lit a candle for me. For fifteen years it has been burning. She wrote a letter to me when it went out. She spent half the flint she had to relight it, and cried over the page when it finally caught. Some lines are illegible, ink warped by wet spots. I haven't seen Seafarer's in writing in so long that I can't believe there was ever a time I struggled to write in anything else.

We spent countless nights transcribing my reports into something you could actually read. The night before you took the amulet from me, it was just like all those nights. Oddly enough, that night out of all the rest feels so far away. Maybe it's because of what almost happened between us that night that never did, maybe that makes it all feel a bit like a dream. Were you thinking of that night when you saw me last?

I don't know if I will ever be able to stop being angry with you. I still watch your candle burn until I fall asleep. I still miss you terribly.

Sincerely yours,

Your second-in-command, Sir Laurance Zvahl of Phoenix Drop

90 notes · View notes

femininefables · 3 days ago

Text

Left Astray

p2! Pls go read part one as well🩷

a/n: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I have an awful procrastination problem and I even tend to re write chapters I don’t like, which only prolongs my writing process. Anyways, I hope your wait was worth it, and thank you for the support!

cw: 18+, smut(doesn’t go that far) and that’s really it ig.

Thunder shakes the whole apartment, making it difficult for you to sleep. The last couple of days have been rough on you mentally. For some reason, you’ve been thinking about your mother and your family. Everything’s been triggering you lately, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by Sevika.

So when you appear in her doorway at two am in the morning, she only grunts and pats the space on bed next to her.

“Nightmares again?” She questions. Not feeling like explaining yourself, you meekly nod in response. “S’okay…just stay here with me.”

Sevika likes moments like this. She likes feeling like you need her. Years of running around the undercity for a cause, only to be under appreciated, and harassed by Jinx. But helping you? It’s like it was all worth it. She kept putting up with Silco and Jinx’s bullshit for people like you.

“You know…if you don’t want to, you don’t have to move out so soon… I’m not here most of the day, so you’re free to stay longer.” That excuse was terrible, but she hopes you’ll believe her anyways. “Thanks Sevi..” That’s a new one. “S’no problem bunny rabbit.”

When you’re finally asleep again, Sevika gets up and lights a cigar. To make sure you don’t inhale any of her bad habits, she goes out on the balcony. Looking out at the twilight, Sevika starts to think. Does she really care about you, or is this all to fulfill some hero complex she has?

When you wake up, Sevika’s gone. She’s probably already at work. The bed smells like her, and a little bit of smoke. That’s when you remember: you slept in her bed. You feel hot. Had you cuddled her? You probably looked so pathetic, wanting someone to snuggle like some stupid kid.

You swing your legs over the side of her bed and get up, stepping in something soft. Looking down, you see a pile of her clothes. A tank top, boxers, and socks. What she always sleeps in. You lift the pile, and drop it into the hamper. All except the tank top. It smells like her too. Whiskey, and the distinct smell of cigar smoke.

The sky is unusually blue today. From Sevika’s balcony, you can see its natural color without any smoke in the way.

Sevika’s balcony has become a favorite spot of yours. Now, you’re sitting down in a folding chair enjoying a book she bought you the other day. A romance novel to be specific.

You’ve gotten more comfortable in your mind, and skin. Reading no longer opens an old wound like it used to, and you’re less jumpy. This doesn’t mean Sevika calling you “bunny rabbit” has ceased in the slightest. It’s grown on you.

Suddenly, a thought strikes you. Ever since you’ve gotten here, it’s always take out for dinner. Usually because Sevika gets home too late to cook anything, or maybe because she just doesn’t like to. So today, you’ll be cooking.

The whole idea is perfect… Surprising Sevika, your savior, with a nice, home cooked meal. Hopefully she’s impressed. The thought of her smile, and some words of gratitude make you all giddy. So you get to it. Sevika doesn’t have a lot of groceries in her house, but you find what you can.

Your final ingredient list comes out to some pasta, cheese, milk, butter, and a couple garlic cloves. You could make a nice sauce with these.

And so you do. Halfway through dinner, Sevika comes through the door. Shoot. You think. You really wanted to surprise her with the table set and the kitchen not a mess.

While you’re busy lost in your thoughts about how ruined the surprise is, a pair of arms snakes around your waist from behind. Sevika’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head. “What are you gettin up to? Making me dinner?” You continue to stir the pot like nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

“yes… it’s just-we always eat takeout so i just thought something homemade would be nice…”

“hmm…haven’t eaten anything homemade in a while..” Her voice sounds slightly distant… like home cooked meals mean something sentimental to her. She unhands you and turns towards her bedroom.

“I’m gonna go change into something not…covered in blood. Call me when dinners ready.” You look over your shoulder in surprise. You hadn’t even noticed the blood stains lingering her clothes, and the bruises on her arms and face.

When you’re sitting across from her eating, you notice more little scratches and cuts all over her.. She’s not acting hurt or upset at all though. Just eating quietly. “Uhm…what happened to you?” You question. Her eyes look up to meet yours and she shrugs. “Ran into someone today… I don’t know where you were a couple years ago, but Vanders girl.. the older one.”

She’s back? You kind of forgot about her after everything that went down… “And you fought with her?” Sevika seems a little frustrated now. “Correction, she jumped me. In the middle of a game too. Just as I won, I get pummeled across the cheek. Damn brat…”

You can’t help your curiosity. “Where’d she go?” Sevika runs a hand through her hair “Hell if I know.. she ran away with some enforcer shootin at me…” “oh wow…” is all you can say in response. You examine her face a little more, and before you know it you speak again. “Do you want me to help?”

“Help with what, bunny?” She raises her eyebrow at you. “Uhm.. with your injuries. You have a first aid, right?” She nods. “If you really want to help I won’t stop you.”

“Hold still..” You press the alcohol soaked cotton ball to a scratch on her cheek. “It stings..” she keeps flinching and turning away. “I know but I gotta clean them! You lean forward in an effort to reach her better. “Just stay still…” Sevika then chuckles. Her hand finds its way to the top of your head and she messes with your hair. “ I feel so special. My very own personal nurse.” The way she’s looking at you makes your heart flutter.

“yeah uh.. I guess I am!” Sevika suddenly pushes against you and sits up, gently holding your wrist to stop you from tending to her. “You have no clue the affect you’ve had on me, bunny. If not for you, I’d probably be smoking a blunt and getting drunk off my ass.” You can’t speak. She’s so close.

“I want to do something to return that” She sounds so sincere. Your voice returns ��letting me live here is really enough! Cooking for you and helping you out is just thanks for that.” She shakes her head. “Maybe, but I feel like you’ve done more for me than I have for you.” A silence fills the small space between you. Sevika’s grip on your wrist tightens slightly. She lowers you down slowly, pinning you down by the wrists. “Uhm.. so do you need help with another bruise? Or..”

She kisses you. You’re caught off guard even though you expected it. you don’t resist though, and kiss her back. She’s holding your wrist above your head while her mechanical arm holds you tight against her. “Sev..” is all you can get out when you part before she kisses you again.

After around five minutes of just making out, she finally stops. The both of you are catching your breath. “Such a pretty girl…” Sevika murmurs affectionately, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “You’re not moving out any time soon baby.” You’re in Sevika’s bed again that night. Not because of any nightmare, but because she carried you here right after you finished patching her up. She’s lying on top of you, human hand caressing your cheek, mech hand lifting your shirt. She’s kissing you slowly, occasionally opening her eye’s to look at you.

“So pretty…wanna make you mine…” her lips trail down to your neck, sucking on the skin and leaving it a dark purplish-red color. “Sev…” is all you manage to say before she latches onto your right nipple. A whine slips from your lips, and her eyes meet yours. An almost mischievous glint appears in her eyes. She has experience with this. You remember your conversation about the brothel.

She shows your other breast some attention before lowering herself between your legs. “Sev?” She stopped moving. She looks back at you with a concerned look on her face. “Are you…okay with this?” You nod. “Sorry…I shouldn’t have.” She gets up and puts a cigar between her lips, looking for a lighter.

“We don’t have to stop… I wanna keep going.” She looks back at you with the unlit cigar hanging from those lips you wanted back so badly. “It just…feels wrong. You’re vulnerable, and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

“you’re not! I love you too..” “Don’t say that…” She sighs, and sits back down on the bed. “I never had time for an actual relationship with anyone..I want to do this right for you. Not just casual sex like I’m used to.” You sit up, pulling your shirt down and leaning on her shoulder. “I haven’t had a lot of relationships either. Being homeless never gave me a lot of free time.”

She chuckles and pulls you closer. “Guess we’re both just figurin’ things out huh? We’ll just figure it out together.” You sleep in her arms that night. Things didn’t go any further, but you couldn’t be happier.

Sevika, meanwhile, was feeling conflicted. Is she just taking advantage of the fact that you look up to her so much? She’s not good when it comes to love. So how can she be genuine for you? Maybe this is all some fantasy she has, and once she sleeps with you she’ll stop caring.

Sevika was even surprised with herself. She knew she’d had some commitment issues, but she didn’t know it’d be this bad. She’s terrified to commit, because what if what she has with you isn’t even real love? What if it’s only lust?

“Sev?” Your sleepy voice snaps her out of it. “Uh- yeah?” She looks towards you. “I love you.” She sighs. “I love you too.” Sevika almost feels bad. She sees how your eyes shine when they look at her, or every attempt from you to gain her approval. She wants to love you just as much. All she knows is that she would give her life for you. The beacon of light in her dreary life.

Maybe she can love you.

just as much.

Not sure if you guys wanted to be tagged, but I wanted y’all to know my slow ass finally posted part two

@lift-heavy-be-gay @adora-moonshine

#sevika x reader #arcane x reader #sevika x you #sevika fluff #sevika my love #sevika x female reader #lgbtq #arcane sevika #sevika #arcane #sevika headcanon #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika angst #arcane league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane art #arcane au

68 notes · View notes

imhappierthanever · 2 days ago

Note

Hey girly, can you make a fic about billie taking care of a sick!reader but they are like very very sick and can it be a longer fic? BTW I love your writing your so talented.💜

Hi angel! Thank you for being so sweet! I hope you like it! 💕💕💕💕

It all started with a little sniffle. Your little sign that you were getting sick. “What was that?” Billie asked you the night before. “What was what?” You asked jokingly trying to hide the fact that you had felt poorly all day.

But you couldn’t trick Billie. She knew you inside and out. She also knew that when you started to get extra cuddly that you were under the weather.

So naturally, when the next morning had come you knew there was no more holding it.

Billie woke up before you, rubbing her fingers through your hair trying to soothe you as you held on to her childhood bunny Lily.

“I’m going to go make you some soup my love. And bring you medicine and tea.” Think you’ll be okay without me for a little bit?” You nodded in response before feeling her lips on your cheek, kissing softly.

She turned on the tv as background noise, but you still heard her in the kitchen singing and cooking away. You smiled to yourself thinking how cute your girlfriend was before you drifted off to sleep again.

When you woke up again, Billie was placing your tray down beside you telling you everything was ready. You scrunched your face, hiding under the blanket, not wanting to eat a single thing whilst feeling this way.

Billie peeled back the covers, pretending she couldn’t find you before acting surprised once she has. “There’s my beautiful girl.” She said propping your pillows, helping you to sit up. “Are you going to be my good girl and eat for me?” Billie asked wiping your face down with a cool cloth before holding up a spoonful of soup.

She was being so incredibly sweet about it all, how could you resist her as you opened up your mouth, ready to get it over with. Once you were all done and you drank your tea and Billie gave you medicine you were ready to lay back down yet again. Which she knew. She herself slipped back into your shared bed, bringing you into lap. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed, your head resting on her chest as she cradled you, trying to comfort you as much as she could.

“Don’t you have work today?” You asked her as she pulled a blanket over you. She shook her head no before responding, laying her head on top of yours. “I took the day off to take care of you, baby. We’re only in the beginning of the first few steps for the album. Besides, it can all wait. You’re what’s most important to me. Just want you better my love!

“Aww Billie.” You sighed, snuggling into her more, just wanting to be close but not wanting to get her sick. But you know it was impossible to argue. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Together, you watched tv and took naps. You played games and Billie even made you a bath. She put your hair up in a little bun for you, baiting you in lavender as she sang to you, her voice so velvety and gorgeous. You felt yourself slipping into another universe from just her voice and the sweet way she was caring for you.

Once you were all finished with your bath, Billie helped you do your skincare routine, knowing you didn’t want to miss it ever. Once you were all done, she picked out your favourite pyjamas, helping you to slide into them before carrying you back to bed.

“Thank you, Billie. For everything. You’re literally too good to be true and I can’t believe you’re all mine.” Your thumb caressed her cheek, before she lowered herself onto your lips.

“Billie!” You said onto her lips. “You’ll get sick!” You exclaimed, knowing you’d feel awful if she too had been feeling poorly because of you.

“I won’t.” She simply said before going back in, kissing your lips softly. “And besides, if I do I’ll get to spend more time with you!”

Now she was the one caressing your cheek, stroking gently with her finger before she stood, changing into something comfortable to join you.

“I hope you feel better soon, mama.” Billie said, pulling you closer to her, kissing your head. “How could I not when u have the most wonderful girlfriend in the entire world?” You said smiling against her, feeling her do the same.

And it was true. You really did find the best in each other no matter what. If you were sick or in good health- you were always there for each other and nothing felt better. Nothing was better than the love you had for each other. Maybe just the fact that that love grew everyday. But you couldn’t ask for anything more.

You slipped back into slumber, hoping you would dream of Billie even though you had the real thing with you always. And she wasn’t going anywhere as she continued to wrap you up in her arms, keeping you safe and warm and loved.

#billie eilish #billie x reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie x imagine #billie x fem!reader #Billie x fluff #Billie

74 notes · View notes

magnagaruzenmon · 2 days ago

Text

Hybrid Theory IX

Dino said let’s write Yel, so we wrote yel. Dio wanted to continue the story and I wanted to celebrate Asa’s birthday so a lot of stuff is going on in this chapter.

Asa sat anxiously in the small waiting area, her leg bouncing with restless energy as she stared down the sterile white tiles. It had been a few days since Doflamingo was officially called in by CONHA for a psych evaluation. Despite Dioyoza’s protests, the higher-ups had insisted. Asa couldn’t help but worry; Doffy hated being poked and prodded by suits who didn’t understand him.

What made it a little easier, though, was knowing Dioyoza was still around.

She had been quietly amazed at how different Dioyoza turned out to be compared to the stories she’d heard. For someone nicknamed a “failsafe,” a supposed weapon to stop Doflamingo if needed, he was so… normal. Kind, even. His laid-back attitude and steady presence made Asa feel strangely safe, like he was the cool older brother she never had.

The sound of the entrance doors sliding open pulled her from her thoughts. Dioyoza strolled in, his coat draped lazily over one shoulder, a casual smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, Sirius! Hey, Asa!” Dio called out cheerfully, giving a lazy salute with two fingers as he passed by.

Asa hesitated, then gathered her courage. “Hey, Dio! Can I ask you something real quick?”

Dio stopped mid-stride, flashing her a curious but patient look. “Sure, shoot.”

She twisted her fingers together for a second before blurting out, “Why are you so kind to Doffy and me? I mean… you’re technically here in case things go wrong. You don’t have to be so nice.”

As she spoke, she watched Dio carefully. His easygoing expression didn’t waver, but she could tell he took her question seriously. He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully before answering.

“I trust you two,” he said simply, his voice steady and warm. “You both want to put the war behind you. You’re not trying to stir it back up, not looking for revenge. I respect that a lot.”

Asa nodded slowly, digesting his words.

There was something about the way Dio talked to her—no judgment, no superiority. Just genuine understanding. It made her chest loosen, made the constant, anxious coil inside her relax a little. Around him, the scars the war had left didn’t feel as raw. They were just… there. And he didn’t make her feel broken because of them.

Dio gave her a small, lopsided grin before continuing down the hall. “Besides, if we’re all stuck together, might as well not be assholes about it, right?”

Asa chuckled quietly, feeling warmth spread through her. Yeah, she thought, Dio’s like the brother I never got to have. Cool, calm, and somehow always making the world feel a little less heavy.

As Dio disappeared around the corner, Asa found herself smiling, the tension she’d been carrying easing just a little bit more.

Not long after Dio disappeared down the hall, the door to the evaluation room opened with a soft hiss. Asa shot to her feet instantly, her heart pounding.

Doflamingo stepped out, looking a little dazed but unharmed. His eyes searched for her automatically, and when he saw her standing there, a small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Asa hurried over, gripping his hands tightly. “Hey, are you okay? How was it?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

Doflamingo squeezed her hands back, grounding himself. “It was… annoying, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” He glanced over his shoulder and added in a near-whisper, “They’re just making sure I’m not going to explode or something stupid.”

Asa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, nodding. “Well, you survived. That’s what matters.”

Doflamingo chuckled softly. “Always do.”

As they walked together back toward the lobby, Asa thought about how much lighter things had started feeling lately. Between Doffy finding his footing and Dio somehow becoming a reliable presence, it wasn’t as bleak as it used to be.

An idea formed in her mind—something small, something normal.

“Hey, uh…” Asa started awkwardly, tugging on Doffy’s sleeve to get his attention. “My birthday’s in a few days.”

Doflamingo blinked at her, then grinned. “Yeah? That’s awesome.”

She nodded quickly, feeling a little shy. “I was thinking of doing something really small. Just dinner, maybe. You, me… and maybe Dio and Magenta too?”

Doflamingo arched an eyebrow, surprised. “You want Dio and Magenta there?”

“I mean, yeah,” Asa said, fidgeting with her fingers again. “Dio’s been really cool, and Magenta’s… intense but she’s been good to you. Plus, it’d be nice to actually celebrate something with people who get it, you know?”

Doflamingo’s grin softened into something gentler, almost proud. “I think that’s a great idea.”

He ruffled her hair affectionately, making her huff in protest but secretly enjoy the rare sign of affection.

“I’ll make sure they come,” Doflamingo said with a wink. “No way we’re letting your birthday pass without a little trouble.”

Asa smiled brightly, feeling a warmth spread through her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

For the first time in years, she was actually looking forward to something.

A few hours later, Doflamingo found himself in the communal lounge where Dio and Magenta were half-heartedly playing a card game. Magenta looked bored out of her mind while Dio kept humming tunelessly to himself, casually stacking the cards into tiny towers instead of playing properly.

Doffy plopped down onto the couch across from them, causing the card tower to collapse.

“Hey, Dio, Magenta—got a question for you.”

Magenta gave him a lazy side-eye. “If it’s about fixing that busted training drone, I already said—”

“It’s not that,” Doffy interrupted with a grin. “Asa’s birthday’s in a few days. She wants to have a little dinner. You two are invited.”

Dio’s face lit up instantly. “Birthday dinner? Count me in!” he said without hesitation, tossing the deck of cards into the air with excitement.

Magenta, on the other hand, leaned back with a scoff. “Tch. Birthday parties are for kids.” She crossed her arms, trying to look unimpressed.

Doflamingo wasn’t fooled for a second. “Come on, Magenta. You’re not gonna leave Asa hanging on her birthday, are you?”

Magenta’s lips twitched, betraying her cool act for a moment. She shrugged with an air of faux indifference. “I guess… if you need me there to make it less lame.”

Dio snorted with laughter, earning a glare from her.

“Magenta’s just shy about being soft,” Dio said in a stage whisper to Doffy.

Magenta flicked a card at his forehead like a bullet, but Dio only laughed harder.

“So that’s a yes?” Doffy pressed.

Magenta sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m not singing ‘Happy Birthday.’”

“No promises,” Dio teased, winking.

Doffy chuckled. “Good. It’ll mean a lot to Asa.”

As he got up to leave, Dio called after him, grinning wide. “Hey, make sure there’s cake!”

Doffy threw a lazy thumbs-up over his shoulder as he walked off, feeling more and more confident that Asa’s birthday was going to be the best one she’d had in a long, long time.

After their little chat the various groups went home.

The afternoon sun filtered through the windows of Dio’s apartment, casting warm golden hues across the living room. He and Magenta were sprawled out on the couch, a lazy, comfortable silence settling between them. Magenta was absentmindedly flipping through channels on the TV while Dio leaned against the armrest, half-watching, half-lost in thought.

At first, Magenta barely noticed anything unusual. But as time went on, she caught Dio shifting—a lot. His usual stillness, that almost eerie composure he carried, was gone. His muscles tensed and relaxed in quick succession, his fingers drumming against his thigh before balling into fists. He kept rolling his shoulders, stretching his neck, his whole body moving in a restless, almost agitated manner.

Her nose twitched. That was when she smelled it.

Pomegranate. A little richer than usual, deeper, spiced with something heady.

Magenta’s ears perked up as realization hit her like a truck.

“Oh my God,” she snorted, sitting up straight.

Dio blinked at her, a little dazed, shifting his weight again. “What?”

Magenta smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re going into a rut.”

Dio furrowed his brows, his expression a mix of confusion and mild irritation. “What the hell do you mean, I’m going into rut?”

Magenta bit her lip to keep from laughing outright. “I mean exactly what I said, babe. You’re squirming, your scent is getting all thick and heavy, and—” she inhaled dramatically “—yep, that’s definitely a rut scent. Strong, needy.”

Dio gave her a look. “That makes no damn sense,” he said, but as he spoke, he shifted again, his body betraying him. “I don’t get ruts. I’m not a hybrid.”

Magenta leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “Correction—you weren’t a hybrid.”

Dio narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

Magenta grinned. “Simple. When a coyote hybrid chooses a mate, our partner—whether they’re hybrid, human, or in your case, a variant— they start going through mating cycles. Guys get ruts, girls get heats.”

Dio blinked, his scientist brain immediately kicking in. “That’s… biologically impossible.”

Magenta shrugged. “Not for us coyotes.”

Dio gave her a deadpan look. “How?”

Magenta stretched, clearly enjoying herself. “Because our bodily fluids contain a chemical that triggers a mutation in our mates, entangling them with us on a genetic level. It makes the bond stronger—more intimate.” She leaned in closer, voice dropping into something teasing. “Deeper.”

Dio stared at her for a long moment, then ran a hand down his face. “Are you telling me,” he said slowly, “that because we’ve… y’know…” He gestured vaguely between them.

Magenta smirked. “Oh yeah. You’ve been marinated in coyote hybrid essence, babe. There’s no going back now.”

Dio let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “This is ridiculous.” But as he said it, another shift ran through his body, the restlessness getting worse. He clenched his jaw, breathing through his nose. Damn it. He could feel it.

Magenta just laughed, utterly delighted. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Dio pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “Okay. Is there anything else I should know about being mated to a coyote hybrid? Or am I just gonna wake up one day howling at the moon?”

Magenta snickered. “I mean, that would be hilarious, but nah, you’re safe on that front.”

Dio gave her a flat look. “Somehow, I don’t feel reassured.”

Magenta stretched lazily, resting her arms behind her head. “Well, since you asked… yeah, there’s more.” She tilted her head, watching him closely. “The cycles? They get stronger over time. The more we bond—physically, emotionally—the more intense they’ll be. My heat will hit harder, and your ruts? Brutal.”

Dio frowned. “Define brutal.”

Magenta waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, you know. Just the overwhelming need to claim, possess, breed—”

Dio held up a hand. “Alright, stop.”

She laughed, leaning into his side. “I’m serious, babe. Your first rut is gonna be rough because you’ve never had one before. Your body’s confused, and it’s gonna hit you all at once.” She traced a finger along his arm, smirking as his muscles tensed involuntarily. “By the time it’s in full swing, you’re gonna be begging me for relief.”

Dio exhaled sharply, eyes flicking away as if focusing on something else would help. It didn’t. “Great. So I just have to ride it out?”

Magenta’s grin turned sly. “Well… I could help you ride it out. Literally.”

Dio shot her a warning glare. “Magenta.”

“What?” she said innocently, then burst out laughing.

Dio sighed, rubbing his temples. “So let me get this straight: the more time we spend together, the worse this gets?”

Magenta nodded. “Yup.”

Dio’s mind was already racing, calculating. “And given my variant biology, there could be… other side effects.”

Magenta shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, hybrids follow a pretty standard pattern, but you? You’re uncharted territory. Your DNA already doesn’t play by the rules, so who knows? Maybe your rut will be worse—or maybe it’ll trigger something else.”

Dio’s jaw clenched. He hated unknowns when they involved him. “And how long until we know?”

Magenta smirked, dragging a hand slowly down his chest. “I guess we’ll find out soon, won’t we?”

Dio groaned. “I hate everything about this.”

“No, you don’t,” she said, grinning as she caught the faintest shiver that ran through him. “Admit it, babe. You’re curious.”

Dio scowled, but he didn’t deny it.

It wasn’t long after that Dio’s cock was surging with malicious mating intent and his scent had reached a peak letting Magenta know of he was ready. She watched as his brown eyes changed into a deep crimson and she smiled.

“Are you ready for me?” She asked . Dio sighed

“If I say no will this all end,” he said but as soon as he said it a wave of lust ran through his body and before he could think straight he was naked in front of and equally nude Magenta. His body roared at him demanding to satisfy the itch that had been building he breathed heavy and magenta whispered a lustful and calming,

“Breed me. It will be fine,” Dio groaned as he blacked out. He plunged his cock into Magenta and his mind cleared for a moment finally easing the need clouding his mind only to feel a greater need to breed her even more. Dio lifted Magenta up before thrusting into her with rapacious appetite. Magenta moaned with satisfaction but hoping to burn more of that energy and she knew was burning inside of Dio she said,

“Come on fuck me harder I can take it,” she said. She smiled as Dio’s scent took on an even richer as his eyes became darker and he fucked her harder. In the full throes of his rut Dioyoza callously ripped Magenta’s shirt. Her breasts meandered marvelously as she moaned and said, “god you animal. I love it.” She growled possessively as she clawed into Dio’s back as Dio continued fucking her. Feeling the familiar feeling in his gut he told Magenta he was close. Magenta responded with

“Fuck fill me up and Dio did so gladly, rope after rope filled Magenta’s womb as their bond deepened even more. When they finished Dio and Magenta caught their breath. But even so the heat inside of Dio kept raging and before he could think he was achingly hard again inside of Magenta. Magenta smirked and said “you’re insatiable”

Dio smirked, before saying,” you made me like this!” Magenta smiled and said yes I did as Dio began thrusting into her again.

While Dio spent the next few hours breeding and claiming Magenta Doflamingo and Asa arrived back home.After a long day filled with clinical white walls, endless questionnaires, and awkward silences during Doflamingo’s psych evaluation, he and Asa finally got back to their apartment.

The second the door clicked shut behind them, Doffy let out a loud, exaggerated groan and flopped face-first onto the couch, arms and legs spread out like a starfish.

“I feel like I just fought a war with boredom,” he mumbled into the cushions.

Asa giggled quietly, setting her bag down by the door. She toed off her shoes and walked over to stand above him, arms crossed.

“I don’t know,” she said, cocking her head with a teasing grin. “You were kinda cute answering all those psych questions like an awkward schoolboy.”

Doffy turned his head to glare up at her, one eye peeking through his messy hair. “You’re evil,” he said dryly.

Asa knelt down next to him, poking his shoulder gently. “Maybe a little.”

Without thinking, Doflamingo grabbed her finger and lightly tugged her closer, making her yelp in surprise as she lost her balance and toppled halfway onto him. He smirked up at her, his hands bracing her at her waist.

“You keep poking the bull, Asa,” Doffy teased in a low voice. “You’re gonna get the horns.”

Asa flushed bright pink but didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned in just a little closer, her hair brushing his forehead.

“Maybe I’m not scared of a little bull or a robot dragon,” she whispered back.

For a second, they just looked at each other — breathing the same air, their hearts racing just a little faster.

Doflamingo was the one who pulled away first, laughing under his breath as he ruffled her hair, breaking the tension before it could boil over.

“Come on, shortstack,” he said fondly, sitting up and bumping his forehead against hers playfully. “Let’s order some food before you start trying to wrestle me.”

Asa stuck out her tongue at him but smiled warmly. She didn’t mind the teasing — in fact, she kind of loved it.

“Fine. But you’re paying,” she said, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and waving it at him.

Doffy just laughed again, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. Asa’s laughter echoed in his ears like a melody, and for the first time that day, he forgot about evaluations, war records, and the heavy weight of the past.

The next morning, the sun was just starting to rise, casting a warm glow over the Animus complex. Asa and Doflamingo, still a little groggy from a lazy breakfast of cereal and toast, stepped out into the hallway just in time to see Dio and Magenta exiting their own apartment, hand in hand.

Asa, spotting them, couldn’t help but grin mischievously.

“Hey, Genta! Hey, Dio! Where are you two sneaking off to so early?” she called, leaning casually against Doffy’s arm.

Dio looked over at them, his usual sharpness dulled by a lazy, glazed-over look in his maroon eyes. Asa caught a whiff of his scent riding the hallway air and instantly stifled a giggle — Dio was in a rut.

She elbowed Doffy lightly and turned back to Magenta, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well then,” Asa said, struggling not to laugh, “should we be expecting a litter of pups soon?”

Magenta barked out a laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a cocky grin. She leaned into Dio’s side, who just groaned quietly, trying to keep himself together.

“Not this round,” Magenta said, giving Dio a teasing little pat on the chest. “But trust me, you’ll be the first to know when it is time.”

Asa laughed brightly, the easy camaraderie lifting her spirits. Feeling bold, she turned and poked Doflamingo in the side, giving him a sly smirk.

“What about you, huh?” Asa teased, her voice light but her words heavy with a joking promise. “When are you gonna knock me up?”

Doflamingo immediately stiffened like he’d been hit by lightning. His body jolted instinctively, his pupils dilating just a little too wide.

Asa caught it immediately — the subtle ripple of tension that shot through him. She watched, amused and curious, as something ancient and primal flickered behind Doffy’s usually laid-back gaze. His hands twitched at his sides like he wanted to grab her, pull her close, claim her.

For a split second, Asa felt the shift — the subtle heat of his hind brain kicking in, whispering, breed, protect, make her yours.

Her smile softened, but before things could spiral too far, she put a hand gently on his chest and said warmly, “I’m kidding, dummy. We’re not ready for kids yet.”

Doflamingo visibly relaxed, letting out a slow breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His hands settled on her waist lightly, grounding himself with her touch.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, but steady. He gave her a small, almost bashful smile — a rare glimpse of the boyish farm boy still tucked inside the man.

Magenta, watching the whole interaction, laughed under her breath and nudged Dio, whispering, “Give it six months, tops.” Dio just grunted in agreement, pulling Magenta along as they headed toward the elevators.

Asa giggled and leaned into Doflamingo’s side, feeling how he subtly tucked her closer against him as if to shield her from the world — or maybe from himself.

And deep down, Asa couldn’t help but wonder: Maybe someday…

But for now, they were just happy being wrapped up in each other’s messy, imperfect lives.

After the teasing died down, Asa stretched and let out a satisfied sigh. “Well, since everyone’s up and about, how about breakfast? There’s that cute little café down the street.”

Magenta’s ears perked up. “The one with the giant cinnamon rolls? Say less. I’m in.”

Dio gave a slow nod, the promise of food clearly helping him keep his rut-fogged brain somewhat functional. “Food’s good,” he mumbled, earning a quiet laugh from Magenta as she ruffled his hair.

Doflamingo, who was still trying to recalibrate after Asa’s little joke, just smiled softly and took her hand in his. “Yeah, sounds nice. Let’s go.”

The four of them headed down the sidewalk, the morning air crisp but not too cold. Dio and Magenta walked ahead slightly, her tail flicking playfully against his side while he tried (and failed) to act unaffected. Asa and Doflamingo trailed behind, swinging their joined hands casually.

The café was small, tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop, and it smelled like heaven the second they pushed through the door — cinnamon, fresh bread, and coffee. A sleepy-looking hybrid waitress waved them to a booth by the window.

They slid in — Dio and Magenta on one side, Asa and Doffy on the other — and started scanning the menus.

Conversation flowed easily. They talked about nothing serious — favorite breakfasts, the weirdest dreams they’d had lately, and even a debate over whether waffles or pancakes were superior. (Magenta was violently pro-waffle.)

At one point, Asa caught Doflamingo just smiling at everyone around the table. She squeezed his hand under the table and leaned her head lightly against his shoulder.

He turned to her, soft and warm, and whispered, “Thanks for dragging me out here.”

Asa smiled back. “Always.”

The four of them spent the morning laughing over greasy food, stealing bites off each other’s plates, and for a little while, it felt like the war, the experiments, and the darkness of their pasts were just distant memories — faded and powerless against the simple peace of friends sharing a meal.

After the haze of Dio’s rut finally cleared it was time for Asa’s birthday.

Asa couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at peace.

The little private dining room Magenta had booked for her birthday was cozy, tucked away from the noise of the main restaurant. The low lighting cast everything in a warm glow, and laughter flowed freely between her, Doflamingo, Dio, and Magenta.

There was no tension, no fear — just comfort.

Doflamingo kept a protective hand resting lightly on Asa’s knee under the table, a grounding touch that made her heart flutter. Dio was his usual easygoing self, teasing Magenta between bites of food, and even Doflamingo had let his walls down for once, smiling wide and easy.

As the plates cleared, Magenta clapped her hands and said, “Alright, alright — time for the birthday song!”

Asa groaned playfully, hiding her face. “Nooo, don’t make it a thing—”

But it was already happening.

Dio started singing loudly and terribly, Magenta harmonizing horribly on purpose, and Doflamingo — sweet, off-tune Doflamingo — joined in, their voices filling the little room with chaotic joy.

As they sang, Asa’s chest swelled — not just with laughter, but something deeper. Something primal.

The scent hit first: Doflamingo’s scent — strong, warm, possessive.

Then her body reacted.

Heat rushed through her so quickly it made her head spin. Her skin burned, her thighs clenched, and an unsteady whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Her hands clutched at Doflamingo’s sleeve instinctively, her face burying into his shoulder as she shook slightly. Doflamingo’s hand flew up to steady her, concern flooding his features.

“Asa?” he murmured, voice thick with worry.

She whimpered again, her hips shifting closer to him automatically, the teasing grin she gave him full of needy, desperate energy. “Doffy,” she breathed, voice husky and pleading without her meaning to.

Across the table, Magenta’s nose twitched. She inhaled once, then twice, her eyes going wide as realization dawned.

“Oh boy,” Magenta muttered, standing up and dragging Dio up with her by the collar.

“What? What’s happening?” Dio asked, blinking.

“She’s going into her first heat,” Magenta hissed, already backing toward the door. “Big time.”

Doflamingo froze, his hand tightening around Asa’s waist as he stared at her wide, dilated eyes and flushed cheeks. She whined softly, nuzzling against him, fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

Magenta gave Doflamingo a cheeky thumbs-up as she hauled a very confused Dio out the door. “Happy birthday, Asa! You’re in good hands!”

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Doflamingo and Asa alone in the heat-thickened room.

Asa whimpered again, grinding her hips into his thigh without thinking, her body completely overtaken by the wave of hormones. She stared up at him, pupils blown wide, voice breathy and pleading.

“Doffy… please…”

His throat worked as he swallowed hard, instincts roaring to life inside him. His hands came up to cradle her face gently.

“I got you,” he whispered, voice low and thick. “I’ll take care of you, Asa. I promise.”

Doflamingo scooped Asa into his arms without hesitation, cradling her carefully against his chest as he left the restaurant. She clung to him, pressing herself tighter into his body, whimpering every few seconds like she couldn’t help it.

He managed to make it to the car without incident, though every step tested his control. Her scent was overwhelming now — sweet, heady, absolutely intoxicating.

Once they were in the car, Asa curled into the passenger seat, her knees pulled up, her body trembling lightly. Doflamingo kept glancing over at her, jaw tight, one hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

The moment he started driving, Asa let out a broken whine, her forehead pressing to the cool window.

“I wasn’t supposed to get heats anymore,” she whispered shakily, voice cracking.

Doflamingo’s heart twisted. “What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked gently, forcing his voice to stay calm for her sake.

Asa whimpered again, shifting restlessly in her seat, trying to find relief from the burning ache in her body. “Because of what I am…a quadbrid. They said…they said my genetics were too jumbled for a real heat cycle.” She turned her head toward him, eyes glassy, desperation pouring off her in waves. “I didn’t think this would ever happen to me…”

He reached over at a red light and squeezed her hand, grounding her. “It’s okay, Asa,” he said softly. “We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you.”

As the car sped toward home, Asa grew needier by the second, whimpering and breathing heavily. Her thighs squeezed together, but nothing helped; her scent filled the confined space, stoking Doflamingo’s instincts until he was almost trembling himself.

She turned toward him again, voice soft and pleading. “Doffy… I need you…”

His heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice.

“We’re almost home, baby. Just a little longer,” Doflamingo murmured, voice low and soothing even though every nerve in his body was screaming at him to pull over and claim her right then and there.

He focused on the road like his life depended on it, hand never letting go of hers, her warmth grounding him even as his mind whirled with the reality of what was about to happen.

She needed him — and he would be there for her, no matter what.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Asa was a trembling mess. She barely waited for Doflamingo to park before she unbuckled herself, still whimpering under her breath, so desperate she could hardly sit still.

Doflamingo rushed to her side, opening the door and helping her out. She clung to his arm, burying her face against him as they hurried inside.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Asa’s knees buckled slightly. Doflamingo caught her easily, lifting her into his arms again.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, carrying her toward the bedroom with careful urgency.

He set her down on the bed gently, brushing the hair from her flushed face. Asa whined again, reaching for him immediately, but Doflamingo forced himself to slow down. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, “Give me two minutes, sweetheart. I need to make sure you’re comfortable first.”

Asa pouted but nodded, whimpering softly as she curled up on the bed, watching him with wide, glassy eyes.

Doflamingo moved quickly, dimming the lights to make the room softer, safer. He pulled out clean sheets from the closet, throwing them over the bed in case things got messy, and turned the thermostat up a little — Asa’s body was trembling enough without her getting cold. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge too, setting it on the nightstand.

When he finally turned back to her, Asa was pawing lightly at the sheets, shifting restlessly, her pupils blown wide, her breathing shallow. Her entire body was practically vibrating with need.

“You’re doing so good, Asa,” Doflamingo murmured as he approached, his voice a low rumble that made her shiver. “Just a little more patience, baby.”

Asa whined again, lower this time, almost a growl of frustration and desperation. She reached out both arms for him, her entire being crying out for comfort, for him.

“Doffy… please…”

The soft, pleading way she said his name almost broke him.

Doflamingo finally knelt on the bed, cupping her face in his hands. “I’m here now,” he whispered, eyes locked on hers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Asa leaned into his touch, her body relaxing just a little as she rubbed her cheek against his palm, instinctively scent-marking him like he was hers — because he was.

Doflamingo smiled gently despite the heavy tension in the air, leaning in to kiss her forehead again, steadying himself, preparing to take care of her the way she needed.

Tonight wasn’t about control. Tonight was about Asa — about making sure she felt loved, safe, and wanted in every possible way.

Doflamingo kissed Asa’s forehead as he joined her in the bed. Asa to far gone in her own heat pounced on Doflamingo tearing through her clothes as well as his.

When they were both bare Asa ran her hands over her body as she finally took what was hers. She slowly sank onto Doflamingo’s dick feeling relief.

Breathing heavily she just said,” just breed me you dumb dragon,” and Doflamingo obliged.

Over the course of the next week Asa and Doflamingo fucked over every inch of their apartment, and with the help of care packages from Dio and Magenta Asa survived her heat. When the couple finally came up for air they decided to meet their friends for a light lunch.

Asa stepped inside first, Doflamingo trailing close behind her protectively, his hand lightly resting on the small of her back. Almost immediately, the lively chatter of the group died down as everyone turned to look at her.

For a moment, nobody said anything.

Then Koby, wide-eyed and trying to be subtle about it, leaned over and whispered loudly to Hiro, “Is it just me or does Asa look… different?”

Hiro, less subtle, squinted at her and said, “Nope, not just you.”

Sakura, ever the bold one, gasped and pointed in playful accusation. “You look softer! Fuller! It’s like someone flipped the ‘dangerous apex predator’ switch to ‘hot future mom’ overnight!”

Asa blinked, cheeks instantly burning. She instinctively reached up to adjust her jacket, but it was impossible to hide the truth — her body had changed.

Where once she had been sharp angles and coiled muscle meant for war, now she was softer, curvier. Her hips looked a little wider, her chest fuller, her whole frame giving off a new, lush kind of energy — one that spoke of nurturing and new beginnings instead of pure survival.

Mina clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh my gosh, it’s like you went through a metamorphosis!”

Eunbi tilted her head thoughtfully. “It actually makes sense. Certain hybrids experience physical shifts after an intense first heat. It’s like the body… reprograms itself to prepare for the possibility of bearing children.”

Magenta, smirking from her seat, added, “And given how much Doffy’s been hovering over her lately, I’m guessing it wasn’t a mild heat either.”

Asa groaned and covered her face with both hands. “You’re all the worst.”

Hina, trying (and failing) to hide her grin, leaned in and said, “You’re glowing though. Like, really glowing. It’s a good look on you, Asa.”

Doflamingo chuckled lowly behind her, clearly proud and thoroughly enjoying himself. He wrapped an arm loosely around Asa’s waist and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“She’s perfect,” he said simply, the pride and love in his voice unmistakable.

The group cooed and teased even harder at that, but under all the playful ribbing, it was clear — they were genuinely happy for her.

Asa peeked out from behind her hands, cheeks still pink, but the small, shy smile she gave Doflamingo said it all.

She was happy too.

After breakfast, as the group lingered lazily in the café, Mina, Sakura, Eunbi, Hina, and Magenta shared a few mischievous glances before suddenly springing into action.

“Asa, girl talk. Now.” Sakura grinned and grabbed her by the wrist before Asa could protest.

“Wait—what?” Asa squeaked, trying to dig her heels into the floor, but the girls were relentless, pulling her toward a quiet corner of the café.

Doflamingo rose slightly from his seat, ready to intervene, but Hiro casually patted him on the arm and said, “Relax. They’re just gonna mess with her a little. You can go rescue her if it gets bad.”

Reluctantly, Doflamingo sat back down, though his sharp gaze stayed locked onto the girls.

In the corner, Asa crossed her arms defensively and gave them a half-hearted glare. “Okay, what’s the ambush about?”

Hina leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand with a sly smile. “You know what this is about.”

Eunbi giggled, her voice lilting. “Come on, Asa, you’re literally glowing. Your scent changed, your body’s changed… you’re basically halfway to nesting instinct territory!”

Mina, ever the more blunt one, nudged her. “And don’t pretend you didn’t notice Doffy looking at you like you hung the stars. He’s obsessed.”

Magenta added with a teasing wink, “You should see the way he keeps scanning the room like someone’s gonna steal you away. It’s adorable, honestly.”

Asa felt her ears burning as she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “I just… I wasn’t expecting this. I thought being a quadbrid meant I wasn’t supposed to have heats, or body changes, or any of that.”

Sakura nodded sympathetically. “Normally, yeah. But you’re a special case. You finally found someone who makes you feel safe. Your body’s reacting to that.”

“Exactly,” Hina chimed in. “It’s not about biology ticking on a clock. It’s about finally being happy. And Doflamingo? He’s your person. So your body’s like ‘cool, time to thrive instead of just survive.’”

Asa’s stern facade cracked, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling. “You guys are embarrassing.”

“But you love us,” Mina said, bumping her shoulder playfully.

Asa huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Magenta leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “Just wait till the next heat. It’ll be even more intense. You might actually knock him off his feet next time.”

The girls burst into giggles as Asa covered her face again, half-mortified, half-warmed by their teasing.

Across the room, Doflamingo, still watching carefully, caught Asa’s eye. She dropped her hands long enough to flash him a shy but brilliant smile.

And just like that, all of his protective tension melted away. He smiled back, slow and sure, the same way he had when they were still tentative with each other.

Yeah. She was happy.

And so was he.

A few days later things returned to normal for the most part.

Donny very rarely ventured far from home. Being born and raised a lion bull hybrid made any sort of travel… difficult, but when old rugby teammate and elephant hybrid named Hiro invited him out to the big city he decided if Hiro could fit in so could he.

So he took the flight and met Hiro at a bar called Concrete Jungle it was sleezy and incredibly horny which awakened something in Donny as soon as he walked in.

As soon as Donny stepped into Concrete Jungle, the air hit him like a freight train. It was thick with the scent of lust, heat, and pheromones—so much so that his body reacted instantly. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and a slow, simmering burn settled deep in his gut.

He clenched his fists, fighting the sensation, but it was already taking hold.

This was the problem.

Being a lion-bull hybrid meant dealing with an almost constant state of heightened virility. Male hybrids of his kind were genetically wired to be breeders—their instincts programmed for strength, dominance, and, most of all, reproduction. It wasn’t just about wanting to mate; their bodies demanded it. Anytime they were around a fertile female, their biology shifted into overdrive, priming them for a rut-like state that never fully faded.

And here?

Here, in a club like this, packed with humans and hybrids drenched in pheromones?

It was hell.

Donny exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to keep his steps measured as he pushed deeper inside. His mind screamed at him to leave—to get out before things spiraled—but another part of him, the deeply ingrained predator, thrived on it.

“This was a bad idea,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oi! Donny!”

He turned and spotted Hiro, the massive elephant hybrid grinning from a booth near the bar. Hiro was built like a tank, his broad frame somehow managing to look at ease in the dimly lit, neon-soaked club.

“Figured you’d chicken out,” Hiro teased, waving him over.

Donny forced a smirk. “Figured you’d pick a place that wasn’t a damn breeding ground,” he shot back.

Hiro just laughed. “What, this? This is tame for the city.”

Donny swallowed another sharp breath as a particularly strong wave of pheromones rolled over him. He needed to get a handle on himself—fast. Because if he didn’t?

Well.

Things were about to get a whole lot worse.

Donny was already struggling to keep himself composed when he heard a whistle from the side.

“Holy shit, Hiro, you didn’t tell me your friend was a damn mountain.”

He turned to see a petite but striking woman staring up at him with wide, appraising eyes. She had soft, caramel-toned skin, sleek black hair tied up in a messy ponytail, and a confidence in her stance that immediately told him she wasn’t afraid of anything.

Hiro snorted. “Hina, this is Donny. Donny, this is my girl, Hina.”

Hina stepped closer, placing a hand on her hip as she continued to stare. “No offense, but I thought Hiro was exaggerating when he said you were built like a goddamn war beast. Turns out, he might’ve undersold it.”

Donny huffed, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny. He was used to people gawking, but there was something too amused in her expression.

“Yeah, well, Hiro’s no small guy himself,” he muttered.

Hina waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, he’s big, but you? You’re like… ‘pick up a car and throw it’ big. Like ‘probably cause minor earthquakes when you walk’ big.”

Hiro chuckled, slinging an arm around Hina’s shoulders. “Told you he was a tank.”

“I thought you meant, like, linebacker big,” Hina continued, still eyeing Donny. “Not ancient demi-god who wrestled lions for fun big.” She smirked, crossing her arms. “What the hell do they feed lion-bull hybrids?”

Donny, trying to suppress the heat already simmering in his veins from the club’s atmosphere, just sighed. “A lot.”

Hina grinned, clearly entertained. “I bet.” Then, glancing at Hiro, she added, “You better hope I don’t start liking your friend more than you.”

Hiro rolled his eyes but smirked. “Don’t get any ideas, babe.”

Donny just groaned. This night was already shaping up to be way more exhausting than he’d anticipated.

As Donny nursed his drink, trying to ignore the heady mix of scents swirling around him, another presence slid into his space with the grace of a seasoned predator.

“Well, well, well… I thought I felt something huge enter my club tonight,” a sultry voice purred.

Donny turned his head and immediately recognized the woman standing before him. Jennie Kim. The infamous co-owner of Concrete Jungle. Her reputation preceded her—ruthless in business, shameless in pleasure. And right now, she was looking at him like he was the next course in a very indulgent meal.

“Damn,” she murmured, her sharp eyes trailing up his towering frame before locking onto his face. “I knew you’d be big, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this big.”

Hiro chuckled beside him, clearly enjoying the show. Hina, too, was smirking, leaning into Hiro as if ready for entertainment.

Jennie stepped closer, close enough that Donny could smell her—an intoxicating blend of jasmine and warm musk. “You must be Donny,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “I love big, powerful men, and you… you might just be my new favorite.”

Donny exhaled sharply through his nose. His body was already on edge from being in the club, and now Jennie’s presence wasn’t making things any easier.

She reached out and casually traced a finger down his bicep, her touch featherlight but deliberate. “So, tell me, handsome… have you ever thought about being one of my cubs for the night?”

Donny felt a sharp pang of heat roll through his core. His lion-bull hybrid instincts were already in overdrive from the club’s atmosphere, and now this—this was damn near a test of his willpower.

Hina let out a low whistle. “Oh-ho, Jennie, you’re really going for the jugular, huh?”

Jennie didn’t even look away from Donny as she smirked. “Can you blame me? He looks like he was sculpted for a goddess’s personal use.”

Donny cleared his throat, his voice rougher than he intended. “Tempting offer, sweetheart, but I don’t think you could handle me.”

Jennie’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Oh, I love a challenge.” She leaned in just a little, voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “You sure you don’t want to test that theory?”

Donny clenched his jaw, his hybrid instincts roaring in his veins. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose whatever restraint he had left.

Hiro clapped a heavy hand on Donny’s back, laughing. “You better watch it, Jennie. He’s new to the city—you might break him before he even gets settled in.”

Jennie finally pulled back, but not before giving Donny one last slow, appraising look. “Mmm… shame. But if you change your mind, big guy, you know where to find me.”

And with that, she sauntered off, leaving behind only the lingering scent of jasmine and a very, very riled-up lion-bull hybrid.

As soon as they stepped out of Concrete Jungle, Donny sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, trying to cool the fire raging in his blood. The club had been too much—too many scents, too much tension, too much temptation. He had held it together, but just barely.

Hiro, noticing his friend’s struggle, clapped him on the back. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you back to my place before you do something you’ll regret.”

Hina snickered. “Or something you’d regret?”

Hiro rolled his eyes, but Donny was too distracted to engage. His body was on edge, his instincts screaming at him to find someone—anyone—to ease the overwhelming need simmering beneath his skin. He had always been good at keeping it in check, but the city was different. The sheer volume of hybrids, the lust that permeated the air—his lion and bull halves were at war inside him.

They made their way to Hiro’s high-rise apartment, but before they could enter, they were stopped at the door by the building’s head of security.

A towering figure loomed in the dimly lit entrance, arms crossed, golden eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. He was massive—nearly as big as Donny himself—with a sharp, angular face and broad shoulders. His presence alone radiated authority.

“Who’s this?” the hybrid asked, his deep voice laced with suspicion.

Hiro sighed. “Relax, Sirius. He’s with me.”

Sirius—clearly part lion, part direwolf—stared Donny down, nostrils flaring as he took in his scent. His expression darkened slightly, muscles tensing. “He’s riled up,” he noted. “Smells like a damn rut waiting to happen.”

Donny grimaced. He knew how dangerous his kind could be when their instincts kicked in full force. He had no intention of causing trouble, but Sirius had every right to be wary.

Hina stepped forward, waving a hand. “Relax, Sirius. Donny’s harmless��just a big farm boy lost in the big city. Right, Donny?”

Donny, despite his nerves, smiled sheepishly. “I swear I don’t bite. Or claw. Or, uh… do anything aggressive.”

Sirius inhaled deeply once more, this time catching the underlying sweetness of Donny’s natural scent—warm, comforting maple.

The change was instant.

Sirius’s stiff posture eased, his tense shoulders relaxing. “Huh,” he muttered. “You’re one of those kinds.”

Hiro smirked. “Yeah, he’s a gentle giant. Soft as hell unless you piss him off.”

Sirius exhaled through his nose and nodded. “Alright. Just keep him on a leash if things get out of hand.”

With that, he stepped aside, allowing them through.

Inside, Hiro’s place was already lively. A few familiar faces were lounging in the main area—female hybrids chatting, drinking, and relaxing after their own nights out.

The moment Donny stepped in, every single one of them turned their heads.

Ryujin, a sharp-eyed fox wolf, raised an eyebrow. “Who the hell is that?”

Sullyoon, a soft-spoken deer hybrid, tilted her head. “Oh my god, Hiro… why didn’t you tell us you were bringing home a mountain?”

Karina, a sleek and confident lion hybrid, smirked as she leaned back on the couch. “That’s not a mountain, that’s a farm boy,” she purred, immediately picking up on the hints of open fields and fresh earth lingering in his scent. “Let me guess—raised on hard labor, all muscle, no brain?”

Donny, shifting uncomfortably under their gazes, scratched the back of his neck. “Uh… I mean, I did grow up on a farm, yeah.”

That was all it took.

Ryujin’s lips curled into a grin. “Oh, you poor thing. You have no idea what kind of danger you just walked into, do you?”

Heejin, a bunny hybrid, laughed as she moved closer, eyeing him up and down. “Big, strong and naive? Hiro, where have you been hiding him?”

Hiro, clearly enjoying the show, threw an arm around Donny’s broad shoulders. “Oh, Donny here doesn’t get out much. Too busy with his cows and fields and whatever the hell farm boys do.”

Sullyoon, ever the sweetheart, placed a gentle hand on Donny’s arm. “That’s actually really cute,” she said, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You must be so hardworking…”

Donny felt his face grow warm. He wasn’t used to this—being openly admired, teased, flirted with all at once. His instincts were at war inside him—his lion side preening under the attention, his bull side growing restless, demanding action.

Karina, sensing his unease, leaned in with a knowing smile. “You feeling a little overwhelmed, farm boy?”

Donny exhaled, trying to steady himself. “I, uh… I just wasn’t expecting this kind of welcome.”

Heejin grinned. “Oh, honey. We’re just getting started.”

The room filled with soft laughter, playful glances exchanged between the girls as they continued their little game.

Donny, despite himself, was struggling. The combination of their teasing, their scents, and his already heightened instincts was pushing him dangerously close to the edge. His body ached—every fiber of his being screaming for him to claim, to breed, to take one of them and—

He clenched his fists.

No.

He had control.

He had to have control.

Hiro, catching onto Donny’s inner turmoil, finally stepped in. “Alright, alright, ladies. Let the poor bastard breathe.”

Ryujin smirked but relented, while Sullyoon giggled and gave Donny’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

Hiro turned to Donny, grinning. “Welcome to the city, farm boy. Try not to get eaten alive.”

Karina circled Donny like a predator sizing up its prey, her sharp feline eyes gleaming with mischief. She reached out, gently tugging at the strap of his overalls, her fingers barely grazing his chest. “But he’s just so cute,” she cooed. “The overalls? They make him look so soft and warm. Like a big ol’ teddy bear.”

Ryujin, ever the instigator, leaned against Sullyoon with a smirk, her own wolf-like gaze sweeping over Donny from head to toe. “Mmm, and that scent,” she murmured, inhaling theatrically. “It’s just so inviting. Like a hot breakfast on a crisp morning.”

She grinned, flashing her sharp canines. “I kinda wanna take a bite.”

Donny, already struggling to keep his instincts in check, felt a fresh wave of heat rush through him at their words. His hands clenched at his sides as he fought the overwhelming biological response threatening to take hold.

Hiro chuckled at his friend’s predicament but decided to offer a lifeline. “Alright, alright, calm down, you two,” he said, shaking his head. “I did not bring Donny here just for you guys to break him in like some new farmhand.”

Karina pouted but backed off with a sultry shrug. “Fine. But if he sticks around, I call dibs on making him blush again.”

Ryujin simply chuckled, giving Donny one last slow once-over before turning away. “Yeah… he’s definitely not ready for the city.”

As the girls sauntered off, Ryujin lingered just a moment longer. With a sly smirk, she let her tail flick behind her, the fluffy tip smacking right against Donny’s firm, muscular backside. The unexpected contact made him jolt slightly, his ears twitching in surprise.

Ryujin paused, giving him a slow, shameless once-over, her eyes gleaming with playful intent. “See you later, big guy,” she purred, her voice dripping with mischief.

She winked before turning on her heel and strutting away, her tail swaying behind her with deliberate exaggeration. Donny, still trying to process everything that had just happened, swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his neck.

Hiro, stifling a laugh, clapped a heavy hand on Donny’s shoulder. “Welcome to the city, bud.” Donny sighed and Hiro said.

“You actually handled last night better than i thought you would. I for sure thought you were gonna be entangled in some pretty hybrid’s game all last night,”

Donny sighed, “You know I’m not like that. Granted I was struggling. Some of the girls put out some very alluring and compelling “arguments,” Hiro laughed as Donny helped get breakfast ready. Hina woke up as they finished breakfast.

The morning light filtered through the large windows of Hiro and Hina’s apartment, casting a warm glow over the cozy living space. Donny sat at the kitchen table, a massive mug of hot chocolate in his hands, looking slightly more put together than he had last night. His overalls were still in place, but his flannel was unbuttoned at the top, showing a hint of his broad chest.

Hina, perched on the counter with a plate of toast, kicked her legs idly. “So, Donny,” she started, giving him a curious look. “What’s life like out on the farm? You been doing that full-time?”

Donny nodded, taking a sip of his coffee before answering. “Yeah, been helpin’ run the family farm since I was a kid. It’s good, honest work—keeps me busy.”

Hiro leaned back in his chair. “Didn’t know you were the settlin’ down type. Thought you’d have taken that brain of yours and gone corporate by now.”

Hina blinked, looking between the two men. “Brain? What brain?”

Donny chuckled, a little sheepish. “Well, I guess I don’t really talk about it much, but I actually finished my master’s in computer science last year.”

Hina nearly choked on her toast. “Wait, what?” She stared at him, eyes wide. “You—you’re telling me that you, the big, sweet, overalls-wearing farm boy, have a master’s degree? In computer science?”

Donny rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little bashful. “Yeah, I’ve been workin’ on a second app, too. First one did pretty well—helped local farms optimize crop rotation. This one’s more focused on livestock management.”

Hiro smirked. “I keep tellin’ people, Donny’s not just brawn—he’s got a hell of a brain, too.”

Hina, still processing, pointed at Donny dramatically. “So you’re out here programming complex farm software and wrangling cattle? That’s so unfair.” She squinted at him. “Are you secretly some kinda genius?”

Donny chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothin’ like that, just grew up with computers and saw ways to make things easier for folks like my family.”

Hina whistled. “Damn. Country boy and a tech wizard? You might be the most interesting man I’ve ever met.”

Donny’s ears twitched at the praise, his maple scent subtly sweetening the air. Hiro just laughed. “Told ya he’s a gem.”

Hina crossed her arms and smirked. “You ever think about sticking around the city for a bit, Donny? ‘Cause I think you’d be very popular here.”

Donny, ever humble, just smiled. “Guess we’ll see.”

Hina tapped her chin thoughtfully as she stared at Donny, gears turning in her head. Hiro recognized that look immediately and groaned.

“Oh no,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “She’s matchmaking again.”

Donny blinked, glancing between them. “Matchmakin’?”

Hina ignored Hiro’s complaint, snapping her fingers as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. “Donny, have you ever dated a hybrid before?”

Donny scratched his cheek, his expression a little bashful. “Can’t say I have. Dated a couple of human gals back home, but, uh… well, never got serious with any of ‘em.”

Hina’s smirk widened. “Okay, so hear me out—I know the perfect girl for you.”

Hiro sighed. “Here we go.”

Donny tilted his head, intrigued but a little wary. “Who?”

“Her name’s Yel,” Hina said, grinning. “She’s a giraffe-bear hybrid, absolute sweetheart, and she’s huge.”

Donny blinked. “Huge?”

Hina nodded enthusiastically. “Like, taller than Hiro. She’s built, but in a soft way, you know? She’s super strong, but also the gentlest, most affectionate thing you’ll ever meet. And she loves farm life—she’s always talking about wanting to leave the city for somewhere quieter.”

Donny took a sip of his coffee, thinking. “She sounds… real nice.”

Hina’s grin turned mischievous. “Oh, she is. And honestly, you two together? It’d be adorable. You’re like a golden retriever in overalls, and she’s this big, shy cinnamon roll. You’d balance each other perfectly.”

Donny’s ears twitched, his maple scent growing a little sweeter as he mulled it over. He’d never thought much about hybrids when it came to relationships, but the way Hina described Yel made something stir in his chest.

Hiro shook his head, though he was clearly amused. “You’re relentless, babe.”

Hina flipped her hair. “I have a gift.”

Donny chuckled, setting his mug down. “Well… I wouldn’t mind meetin’ her.”

Hina clapped her hands together. “Perfect! I’ll set it up.”

As Donny turned the idea over in his head, he had to admit—he was curious. And maybe, just maybe, Hina was onto something.

While Hina chatted with Yel Donny and Hiro were out behind the apartment building, tossing trash bags into the large bins. It was one of those quiet moments where the city felt like it had just paused—no loud music, no rush of people. The sun was starting to dip, casting long shadows over the alley, and Donny, feeling the weight of his day, stretched his broad shoulders. The air was warm and sticky, but Donny was used to it—he was a farm boy, after all.

Hiro, already done with his task, leaned against the wall, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Man, you’ve got the strength of a bull for sure. You should’ve been a bodybuilder instead of a farm guy.”

Donny chuckled, wiping his brow. “Nah, farm life’s where I’m at. Lifting bales of hay and fixing fences is what gets me by.” He shot a glance at Hiro. “Don’t know if I’d last long in a gym.”

Hiro raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Right, right. But I bet you’d last longer than you think.” Just as Donny was about to respond, he caught a whiff of something new—something sharp and wild. A familiar scent of pine, earth, and something more primal.

He turned his head, instinctively drawing in a breath. It was a woman, tall, with striking eyes that gleamed under the fading sunlight. She was walking toward them with purpose, and Donny’s senses were immediately on edge.

“You smell that?” Donny asked, his voice low but steady. Hiro followed his gaze, smirking as he spotted the wolf hybrid approaching.

“Yeah,” Hiro said, his grin widening. “You’re in trouble, big guy.”

Hyeju was a wolf hybrid, sleek and confident with dark, well-kept fur running down her arms. She had the appearance of someone who was both graceful and dangerous, yet there was a calmness about her, too. Donny could see how her eyes flickered over him, like she was trying to gauge something.

As she closed the distance, her lips curved into a playful smile. “Hey there, I couldn’t help but notice your scent,” she said, her voice warm but with a hint of mischief. “It’s… very distinct.”

Donny smiled back, his posture tense despite himself. His body was still in a semi-raging state, his pre-rut instincts running hot. He fought the urge to shift his stance or flex too much, keeping his demeanor casual. “I get that a lot,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “I’m Donny.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing between him and Hiro. “Hyeju,” she said simply. “I was just finishing up my workout when I smelled this.” She chuckled, “Didn’t expect to run into a literal bull hybrid in a trash area, but here we are.”

Donny chuckled along with her, even though his mind was racing. “Guess I’m not exactly used to being in the big city,” he said. “But I’m learning.”

Hyeju’s gaze lingered on Donny, especially as she noted his toned physique, still tinged with that raw, untamed energy. She took in his scent, recognizing the earthy undertone that was unmistakable. She tilted her head curiously. “You’re a farm guy, right? I can tell.”

Donny nodded, still trying to calm the swirling intensity inside him. “Yeah, that’s right. I run a farm back home.” He felt a sharp flicker of heat in his chest when she stepped a little closer, his body reacting to her proximity despite his efforts to stay composed.

Hyeju’s nose twitched as she took in his scent again, and Donny noticed the slight flash of interest in her eyes. But instead of pushing him, she kept her demeanor playful. “I like that—there’s something… grounded about you. But I bet you’ve never had anyone challenge you at a game, huh?” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

Donny raised an eyebrow. “A game?”

Hyeju smirked, clearly enjoying the teasing dance. “I’ve been looking for someone to go up against me in something—maybe chess, maybe a good old-fashioned card game, something that’ll make you think.” She held up her phone, pulling out a piece of paper. “Here, take my number. You look like the kind of guy who’s got a bit more to him than just muscles.”

Donny looked down at her phone, his gaze flicking between it and her. His body was still screaming for release, every muscle tense with the undercurrent of his rut, but he didn’t let it show. He took the phone carefully, trying to ignore the heat building up inside him. “I’m always up for a challenge,” he said, a slow smile curling his lips.

“Good,” Hyeju replied, her voice quiet but firm. “I’ll hold you to that. And maybe I’ll see if you can beat me in something else, too. But for now, take care, Donny.” She offered a sly wink before turning to leave.

As she walked off, Donny stood there for a moment, his mind whirling. Hiro, having watched the entire exchange with quiet amusement, finally spoke up.

“Well, well, well, looks like you’ve got yourself a little challenge.” Hiro’s voice had a teasing edge to it.

Donny glanced at him, his mind still spinning. “She’s something else. But… I don’t know. There’s something about her scent that’s got my head all over the place.”

Hiro smirked. “I bet. But remember, Donny, you’re here to enjoy the city, not get tangled in every scent that comes your way.”

Donny nodded, trying to ground himself. “Yeah… I’ll keep that in mind.” But deep down, he knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.

Donny had spent most of the afternoon wandering around, trying to clear his head after his brief but intense encounter with Hyeju. His mind was still buzzing, his instincts more on edge than usual, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was missing something. He didn’t mind the chaos of the city—it was the kind of distraction he needed—but there was always this lingering pull for something more.

As he walked through the hallways of Hiro’s building, he was distracted by the muffled sounds of intense battle music and button mashing that echoed from an apartment on the floor above. The bass-heavy tunes and the distinctive battle cries coming from a nearby room piqued his curiosity. Donny hadn’t been much of a gamer in the past, but Under Night In-Birth II had always been one of his favorite fighting games. He’d even gone to EVO a couple of times to compete, though his results never matched the hype. Still, the game was a comfort—something about the fast-paced action got him in the zone, making everything else fade away.

The sounds were loud enough that he figured someone had the volume cranked up, and his curiosity got the better of him. He knocked on the door of the apartment, not bothering to wait for an invitation—he had always been a bit direct in that way.

The door swung open to reveal a familiar face. Sullyoon, the cool and composed doe hybrid he’d met a few nights ago, was standing there with a confident smile. Her eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint.

“Donny,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “I was wondering when you’d find your way here. I guess I’m not as quiet as I thought.”

Donny stepped inside, noting the cozy setup. The living room had a large flat-screen TV, with controllers scattered on the coffee table, the sound of a fighting game still playing loudly in the background. He didn’t recognize the game, but the voiceovers and punches were unmistakable.

“Is that Under Night In-Birth II?” Donny asked, his voice full of curiosity.

Sullyoon chuckled, nodding as she gestured to the couch. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites. And I’ve been kicking everyone’s ass in it tonight.” She grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “Wanna try?”

Donny hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “I’ve been known to play a round or two,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. “But I’ll give it a go.”

As he made his way further into the room, he noticed two other figures sitting on the couch. It was Koby, the trybrid with his usual laid-back demeanor, and Sakura, the small but fiery cat hybrid girl who lived under Hiro and Hina . Both of them had controllers in hand, visibly focused on the screen.

“Hey, Donny!” Koby called, glancing up with a grin. “We were just taking a break, but Sullyoon here is impossible to beat. Thought we’d give it one more shot.”

Sakura flashed him a teasing smile. “Yeah, we’ve been trying to figure out her secret, but it’s like she’s got a sixth sense when it comes to this game.”

Sullyoon smirked and leaned back on the couch, clearly enjoying her undefeated streak. “What can I say? I have good reflexes.” She turned her gaze to Donny. “So, if you’re up for a challenge, I’m happy to add another victim to my list.”

Donny chuckled at her confidence, feeling the warmth of the moment despite the growing intensity of his body’s need. He took a seat next to Sakura and Koby, trying to stay composed as the tension in the air shifted. His body was still in the early stages of his rut, and with the other hybrids around, the primal urges he was trying to suppress were slowly starting to resurface. But he pushed that feeling aside, focusing on the game instead.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Donny said, cracking his knuckles. “I may not play much, but I’ll give you a run for your money.”

Sullyoon raised an eyebrow and picked up her controller, clearly amused. “Alright, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The game loaded up, and the digital characters began to square off, the sounds of punches and energy blasts filling the air. Donny found himself instantly drawn into the gameplay, his competitive nature kicking in as he focused on the match. He wasn’t just here to play casually—he was here to win, and it showed.

Sullyoon quickly realized that Donny wasn’t the “casual” player he’d made himself out to be. His combos were crisp, his decision-making was solid, and the pace of the game seemed to flow in a way that told her he had serious experience. She had to scramble to keep up as Donny launched into his next series of attacks, each one landing with precision.

“What—how are you this good?” Sullyoon grumbled under her breath, trying to regain control of the match, but Donny was relentless.

Before long, Donny’s character cornered hers, executing a flawless finishing combo that sent her flying off the screen in a blaze of light. The announcer’s voice declared him the winner, and Donny leaned back in his seat, satisfied.

“Well, guess that’s me winning,” Donny said with a grin, wiping the back of his neck, though his eyes were still bright with the rush of victory.

Sullyoon blinked, stunned. “Wait—hold up, you’re really good. I thought you were just being modest.” She shook her head in amazement. “Alright, looks like I’ve met my match. You might have a shot at EVO next time.”

Koby slapped Donny on the back with a loud laugh. “Damn, Donny, you’ve been holding out on us. That was a crazy match.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “I’ve got to admit, I didn’t think anyone could beat Sullyoon at her own game. That was… something else.”

Donny chuckled and leaned back, his competitive streak still running high. “Guess I’ve got a thing or two left to show, huh?”

Koby raised his hand. “I’m officially challenging you to a rematch next time, Donny. You’re going down!”

Sullyoon grinned and turned to Donny. “Alright, you got me this time. But if you want to stick around, I’m always down for another round.”

As Donny sat back and caught his breath, he noticed that the tension in the air seemed to have shifted slightly. His primal instincts were still there, the pull of his rut constant, but for the moment, he was able to keep it in check. Still, there was something about the scent of the other hybrids around him that kept tugging at him, making it harder to concentrate on anything else.

“Yeah, I’ll stick around for a bit,” Donny said, giving Sullyoon a playful grin. “But I might need a breather first.”

Sullyoon chuckled, her doe hybrid instincts undoubtedly picking up on the underlying tension. “Take your time, big guy. We’ve got all night.”

As the group continued their casual banter, Donny let himself enjoy the moment for a little longer, knowing that, for now, he had control. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this city—and the hybrids in it—would only continue to push him further.

As they continued gaming Sakura and Koby left leaving just Sullyoon and Donny to play.

The rhythmic clicks of controllers filled the room as Sullyoon and Donny sat on the floor in front of the TV, locked in an intense match of UnderNight II. The neon lights of the game cast a faint glow across their faces, highlighting the focus in their eyes.

Donny’s Carmine clashed against Sullyoon’s Yuzuirha, their characters exchanging rapid blows. Sullyoon was good—damn good—but Donny had the edge. He’d already downloaded her playstyle, adapting to every feint and counter she threw his way.

“Damn, you really are an EVO player,” Sullyoon muttered, clicking her tongue as her health bar dwindled.

Donny smirked slightly, his hands fluid on the controls. “Didn’t win, though. Just made it to top 64.”

“Still further than I’d get,” she admitted, eyes flicking to the screen as Donny landed a devastating combo, pushing her into the corner. “Alright, maybe I need to pick up Carmine.”

“Nah your yuzu is still solid,” Donny offered. “But she’s more read-heavy.”

As they played, Donny shifted slightly in his seat. Something was off. He’d been trying to focus on the game, but his senses kept picking up something… different.

Then it hit him.

Sullyoon’s scent had changed.

At first, it had been light and pleasant—something faintly citrusy, crisp like early spring. But now? Now it was richer, warmer, and laced with something unmistakable. It wasn’t overpowering, not like some of the hybrids he’d been around lately, but he could tell she was fighting it.

Oh.

His body, already teetering on the edge of pre-rut hell thanks to all the hybrids in heat around him, definitely noticed. A slow, creeping heat spread through his limbs, his instincts sharpening in response. But more than that, he saw it in her.

The way she shifted in her seat. The way her grip on the controller tightened just a little too much. The way her ears twitched—subtle, but telling.

‘Oh, she’s feeling it too,’ he realized.

Donny swallowed, trying to keep his cool. Be normal. Just be normal.

“So… you always this massive, or did you just decide to be built like a tank for fun?” Sullyoon asked, her voice light but forced.

Donny smirked, playing along. “Farm work’ll do that to you. Lotta lifting, hauling, plowing.”

The moment the word left his mouth, he felt the shift in her scent.

He blinked. Oh. Oh.

Sullyoon sucked in a sharp breath before quickly covering it up. “Right, right. Makes sense.”

Donny wasn’t the most socially sharp guy in the world, but he was part lion. He could smell when someone was affected, and right now, Sullyoon was trying really hard to pretend she wasn’t.

A small, wicked part of him wanted to push it—just to see her squirm. But the rest of him was too busy trying to hold onto the last shreds of his own restraint.

He turned to look at her, brow raised. “You good?”

For the briefest second, she hesitated. He saw the way her pupils dilated slightly before she forced a smirk. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, thinking about how I’m gonna wipe the floor with you this match.”

Donny exhaled a slow breath through his nose. Right. Okay. Keep it cool.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, rolling his shoulders.

Sullyoon tensed.

Donny smirked.

Sullyoon hummed, but there was a distant look in her eyes, her fingers moving on autopilot.

A long silence settled between them, only broken by the sounds of the game. Eventually, Sullyoon let out a quiet sigh, glancing at Donny. “You know… I never really wanted to be part of the war.”

Donny didn’t look at her immediately, but his fingers hesitated over the controller for half a second before he finished his combo.

“…Yeah?”

She nodded, leaning back against the couch. “I tried to avoid it at first. I thought—if I just kept my head down, if I didn’t get involved, it would pass me by.” A humorless chuckle left her lips. “But I was naive. It pulled me in anyway.”

Donny remained quiet, letting her speak at her own pace.

“I became a medic,” Sullyoon continued. “Not because I believed in the war, but because I couldn’t just sit back and watch people suffer. It didn’t matter if they were hybrids or humans—both sides were bleeding out all the same.”

She exhaled sharply, gripping the controller a little tighter. “I saw some of the worst things imaginable. People torn apart by experiments, entire platoons wiped out by biological warfare. And for what? Territory? Revenge?” She shook her head. “By the end of it, I wasn’t even sure who was right anymore. It just felt like we were all losing.”

Donny finally set his controller down, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it.”

Sullyoon tilted her head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He exhaled through his nose. “I was never in the war, but I spent a lot of time protesting it. Not just because of the fighting, but because of what both sides were doing to themselves.” He looked at her now, his expression grim. “The experiments? The forced evolutions? None of it was sustainable. It wasn’t just about which side won—it was about whether anyone would even be left by the time the dust settled.”

Sullyoon blinked, surprised. “You actually thought about that?”

“Of course I did.” Donny leaned back, stretching his arms. “The hybrids were being pushed past their limits, and the humans were scrambling to keep up with technology that was warping their bodies. If we kept going down that path, it wouldn’t have mattered who was left standing. We were heading toward extinction, one way or another.”

Sullyoon studied him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah… I see it now. And you were right.”

She sighed, draping her arms over her knees. “The war was a mistake. But it’s over now. All that’s left is trying to pick up the pieces.”

Donny chuckled dryly. “Easier said than done.”

Sullyoon smirked slightly. “Maybe. But at least we have video games to keep us sane.”

He snorted. “Guess that’s true.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence, the weight of the conversation lingering between them. Then, after a moment, Sullyoon grabbed her controller and smirked.

“Alright, rematch. This time, I’m winning.”

Donny grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

As Sullyoon and Donny continued their match, the sound of the front door opening caught their attention. Ryujin had just returned from work, her sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on Donny, comfortably seated on the couch with a controller in hand. A flicker of something unreadable—curiosity, maybe even jealousy—passed through her expression as she strutted over.

“Oh, farm bull, it’s great to see you,” she purred, her voice playful but laced with a teasing edge.

Before Donny could react, she plopped herself right onto his lap, settling in as if she belonged there. Sullyoon barely concealed her amusement as she noticed the shift in Donny’s demeanor. At first, he stiffened—an instinctual hesitation—but then, something in his eyes darkened. His pupils dilated, and a slow, primal hunger settled into his gaze.

Ryujin, oblivious to the change, reached up and ran her fingers over his horns, tracing their curved ridges with gentle fascination. “You know, farm bull, you have such nice horns,” she murmured, her voice laced with mischief.

That was it.

Something inside Donny snapped.

His nostrils flared, his muscles tensed, and his hands gripped the couch as he tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping into a dangerously smooth cadence.

“And what do you want to do about it?”

Ryujin’s breath hitched.

She felt the shift in him—the way his presence suddenly dominated the room. Gone was the bashful, wide-eyed farm boy. In his place was a confident, unshaken lion-bull hybrid whose patience was wearing thin.

Ryujin’s heartbeat stuttered for half a second before she forced herself to smirk. “I think I’m going to bed,” she said, her tone light, but there was no mistaking the heat lingering in her voice.

Donny, ever the gentleman—at least when he wasn’t being provoked—stood up, adjusting his posture as he stretched. “Good night, Sully. Good night, Ryu,” he said smoothly, his deep voice still carrying that lingering intensity.

Just as he turned to leave, Ryujin’s tail flicked, snapping against his backside in a playful smack.

Sullyoon raised an eyebrow.

But Donny didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he turned back, slow and deliberate, his amber eyes locking onto Ryujin’s with a knowing smirk.

“Are you trying to ride the bull tonight?”

Ryujin’s confident facade cracked just a little as she let out a choked sound—a mix between a groan and a mewl—before quickly turning away.

Before things could escalate any further, Sullyoon swiftly stepped between them, grabbing Donny by the arm and escorting him toward the door. “Alright, cowboy, that’s enough,” she said, half-laughing, half-scolding.

As soon as Donny was out of earshot, Sullyoon turned back to Ryujin, arms crossed.

“What exactly was that?”

Ryujin, still a little breathless, grinned. “Listen… I may have underestimated just how much farm bull is hiding under all that polite country charm.”

Sullyoon sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, and if you keep pushing, you’re going to find out the hard way.”

Ryujin’s grin widened.

“…Would that really be such a bad thing?”

Sullyoon sat on her couch long after Donny had left, the glow of the TV screen flickering in the dim room. Her fingers idly traced the outline of her controller, but her mind was somewhere else. Somewhen else.

She’d been fine. She’d been fine. She’d gone through the motions, kept herself busy, stayed in control. But Donny—his scent, his voice, the effortless way he carried himself—had knocked something loose inside her. And now, he was on her mind again.

Her husband.

A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. It’s been years, Sully. You need to let it go.

But she couldn’t.

She still remembered the day he left for battle. The way his golden-furred ears twitched nervously as he adjusted his uniform. The way his tail swayed ever so slightly, betraying the excitement he didn’t want to admit. He’d kissed her, promised he’d come back, said they’d figure out their future together.

And then Doflamingo’s final stand against the hybrids happened.

1,000 hybrids. Against one man.

The war had been hell, but that day… that was when she lost him.

No body. No final words. Just a name on a list.

She clenched her jaw, willing the sting behind her eyes to fade.

She hadn’t been on the front lines. She’d been in the med tents, patching up those lucky enough to make it back. And after the battle, when the reports started coming in, she remembered how the other medics went silent when they saw his name. How they looked at her, pity in their eyes.

She had kept working. She hadn’t cried.

She still hadn’t.

Sullyoon exhaled sharply and rubbed her hands over her face, willing herself back to the present.

She wasn’t some grieving widow anymore. She was Sullyoon. Strong. Capable. She’d built a life for herself after the war, away from the pain.

So why did Donny—some massive, naive farm boy—make her feel like this?

She scoffed, shaking her head. Maybe it was just his scent. That stupid, warm, comforting scent of maple and earth. Or maybe it was the way he’d looked at her—sharp, perceptive, like he actually saw her.

You need to get a grip, she told herself.

Because no matter how kind Donny was, or how much he made her heart stutter—he wasn’t him.

And she wasn’t sure she was ready for anyone who wasn’t.

It was the dead of night when Donny shot up from the couch, his body burning with unbearable heat. A deep, primal ache coiled in his gut, making his skin feel too tight, his muscles tense with need. His breathing was ragged, his hands gripping the blanket as if grounding himself would do anything against the suffocating sensation overtaking him.

His rut had begun in full force.

And it wasn’t just his own body betraying him—he could smell it. The pheromones thick in the air, subtle yet maddening. Several female hybrids in the building were in heat, their scents mingling, intensifying his already overwhelming instincts. It was like standing too close to an open flame, his body reacting on sheer biology, his mind struggling to keep control.

“Shit.”

He needed fresh air.

Moving quickly, Donny threw on a hoodie—one that barely helped disguise the sheer mass of his frame—and stepped outside onto the apartment’s rooftop. The cool air hit his burning skin, offering a momentary reprieve, but it wasn’t nearly enough to ease the restless energy coursing through him. His rut was only just beginning, and the tension in his body told him this was going to be a rough one.

“Damn, you look like you’re about to lose your mind,” a familiar voice drawled.

Donny turned, finding Hyeju leaning casually against the railing, her sharp eyes locked onto him. The wolf hybrid was dressed comfortably in joggers and a cropped hoodie, her dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Despite her relaxed posture, there was an unmistakable glint of mischief in her expression.

“I—” Donny exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, uh… it’s bad.”

Hyeju took a slow step forward, inhaling deeply. Her nostrils flared slightly before she smirked. “No wonder. You reek of rut.”

Donny groaned, bracing himself against the railing. “Don’t remind me.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “Let me guess—first time dealing with it in a city full of hybrids?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, jaw tight.

Hyeju chuckled. “Rough luck, farm boy. You picked the worst place to be when it hit.”

Donny let out a frustrated breath, his hands clenching into fists. Every part of him was screaming to act, to do something about the throbbing ache in his gut, but he wasn’t about to let himself spiral in the middle of the city.

Hyeju watched him for a moment before stepping closer. “You know… I could help you out.”

Donny stiffened, eyes snapping to her.

She grinned, unbothered by his reaction. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. You’re clearly struggling, and I happen to be feeling generous tonight.” She reached out, running a single finger along his forearm, her touch light but teasing. “All that tension—must be driving you crazy.”

Donny swallowed hard. A dangerous part of him wanted to accept her offer immediately. His body was in agony, his instincts howling at him to take whatever relief he could get. But even as his control wavered, he hesitated.

“You’re really offering?” His voice was rougher than he intended.

Hyeju’s smirk widened. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn��t mean it. And don’t worry—I don’t do things halfway.”

Donny inhaled sharply, his scent thick with barely restrained need. The city was already pushing him to his limits, and now this—temptation standing right in front of him, playful, willing, and completely unbothered by the storm raging inside him.

His fingers twitched at his sides. His body wanted.

Hyeju noticed.

She leaned in just a little closer, her voice dipping into something softer, almost coaxing. “So, what do you say, farm boy?”

Donny closed his eyes, inhaling deeply in an attempt to steady himself. His body was seconds away from betraying him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep control. Then he snapped when Hyeju said,

“A big bad boy like you has probably been going crazy with all this going on around. Let me give you some relief,” she smirked and Donny’s instincts pushed his usually thoughtful and careful side to the inside of his psyche. Right now he needed to fuck and the lion and bull inside were driving the wheel.

Donny followed Hyeju to her apartment on the way Sirius saw the couple and knew what was about to happen.

When they arrived Hyeju looked at Donny before taking his overalls off she was shocked to see a massive 8 in cock she groaned in pleasure before taking her top and wrapping her titanic tits around them. Donny groaned as she gently fucked him with her tits. Hyeju smirked and said, “does that feel good?” Wordlessly Donny moaned as she continued.

Unfamiliar with this level of pleasure meant that Donny couldn’t last long and exploded a massive load all of Hyeju’s face and chest to the point of almost drowning her in cum. Hyeju smiled then rubbed in the Bull’s cum into her skin causing Donny to harden again at the lewd scene. Hyeju smiled then presented her pussy to Donny and said

“Fuck me like the cumslut puppy I am,”

After getting his fill of Hyeju Donny was finally able to think clearly. Just in time for the cafe date with Hiro,Hina, and Yel

Yel barely made it through the café meetup without combusting on the spot. Every time Donny spoke, every time he laughed in that deep, rumbly way of his, every time his scent drifted in her direction, her body betrayed her.

She managed to keep it together—mostly. But the moment she got home, the second she was alone in her apartment, the full weight of what had happened crashed into her.

And then the heat hit.

At first, it was a slow burn, a gentle warmth curling in her stomach. But within minutes, it spread, setting every nerve ablaze. Her skin felt too tight, her thoughts too foggy. She pressed a hand to her chest, breathing heavily. No, no, no—this isn’t happening. Not now. Not because of him.

But it was because of him.

Donny’s scent—his presence, his everything—had triggered something deep in her hybrid biology. Her body had made its decision before her mind could catch up: He’s strong. He’s kind. He’s perfect. He’s the one.

And now she was going into heat.

Yel stumbled toward her bedroom, stripping off her jacket as the waves of desire crashed harder. Her whole body ached, but worse than that—she needed. Needed touch. Needed relief. Needed—

A groan ripped from her throat as she buried her face in a pillow, trying to suppress the whimper that followed. She had been through heat cycles before, but this? This was worse. So much worse.

And it was his fault.

Her phone buzzed.

She reached for it with shaking hands, eyes barely focusing on the screen. A message from Hina:

Hina: Sooo what did you think of Donny? Cute, right?

Yel let out a strangled noise—half laugh, half cry.

Cute?

No. No, this wasn’t just cute. This was biological warfare.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She could tell Hina what was happening. Maybe Hina would understand. Maybe she could—

Another wave hit, harder than before, and Yel dropped the phone with a frustrated growl.

There was no escaping this.

No denying what her body already knew.

She needed Donny.

And the worst part?

This was only the beginning.

Donny had just gotten back to Hiro’s place, kicking off his boots and stretching his massive frame when he heard a frantic knock at the door. It wasn’t the polite kind. It was desperate.

Before he could even take a step, the door flew open.

And there stood Yel.

She was flushed, her breaths uneven, and her pupils were blown wide. Her scent hit him like a freight train—thick with heat, sweet and intoxicating. It made his head spin, his body tense, his instincts stir.

And then she spoke.

“You did this.” Her voice was raw, accusing, pleading. She took a shaky step inside, and Donny had never seen her look so vulnerable. So needy. “And I need you to fix this.”

Donny’s breath hitched. His rut had been looming for days now, barely held back by sheer willpower, but Yel’s presence—her scent, her words—sent cracks through the walls of his restraint.

His jaw clenched as he swallowed thickly. “Yel, you sure about this?” His voice was lower than usual, rough around the edges.

Yel’s expression twisted into something between frustration and desperation. “Donny, I am burning,” she practically whimpered. “Please.”

That one word nearly undid him.

His hands flexed at his sides, his body screaming for him to take what was right in front of him. To give her exactly what she needed.

After a long, heavy pause, Donny exhaled sharply, eyes dark with something more primal.

“Alright,” he said, voice steady but laced with heat.

He stepped forward, towering over her, his presence wrapping around her like a vice.

“I’ll help you.”

The second Yel climbed onto Donny’s lap, something in him snapped.

She wasn’t just sitting on him—she was claiming him, her legs draped over his massive thighs, her hands pressing against his chest as if she were trying to mark him with her touch alone. Her scent was everywhere, wrapping around him like a vice, thick and all-consuming.

Donny’s usual self—the thoughtful, careful man who always made sure everyone else was comfortable before himself—was drowning under the weight of his own biology.

The bull in him demanded to take. To claim. To breed.

The lion in him growled possessively, his instincts screaming at him to sink his teeth into her throat, to let her know exactly who she belonged to.

His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging in hard enough that even in her heat-addled state, Yel gasped. But she didn’t shy away. If anything, she pressed closer, whining as she rubbed against him.

Her body was practically begging him to break.

Donny’s breaths were ragged, his pupils blown wide as he fought to keep control, but it was slipping—fast.

“Yel,” he ground out, his voice barely human, a rough growl vibrating in his chest. He was trying to warn her, trying to give her one last chance to back out before the real him—the beast inside—took over completely.

But Yel just whimpered in response, leaning up to press her forehead against his.

“Donny,” she whispered, voice wrecked with need, “I want—”

That was the last straw.

A deep, guttural growl rumbled from Donny’s chest, and his arms locked around her, pulling her flush against him as his lips crashed against hers.

The last of his self-restraint was gone.

The lion wanted to claim.

The bull wanted to breed.

And Yel had just given herself to both.

The moment Donny’s lips crashed against Yel’s, something inside him broke.

Not just control. Not just restraint. But something deeper.

A fire, hotter than anything he’d ever known, roared through his veins, burning away the last shreds of his careful, considerate nature. His body wasn’t just reacting to Yel—it was demanding her, claiming her, answering a primal call that he’d never experienced this intensely before.

His rut had hit, and it was unlike anything he’d ever felt.

His vision blurred, the edges of his world turning red as his instincts took over completely. His breath came out in ragged pants, his chest rising and falling like a beast on the edge of losing himself.

Yel’s scent was everywhere, overwhelming, drowning out everything else. It coiled around his brain like a vice, tightening until all he could think about was her.

Breed.

Claim.

Make her yours.

A deep, guttural snarl tore from his throat as his hands gripped her waist, hard enough that she gasped. But she wasn’t resisting—she wanted this. She needed this just as badly as he did.

His muscles tensed, his body locking up like he was a spring seconds away from snapping. His bull instincts screamed to take, to mount, to fill her until his scent was woven into her very being.

The lion in him growled in approval, every fiber of his being focused on one singular, undeniable fact:

Yel was his.

And after tonight, she’d never belong to anyone else.

Yel’s fingers dug into Donny’s shoulders, her breath hot against his ear as she whimpered, “Don’t fight it… Donny, please.”

Her voice was thick with need, every syllable dripping with desperation. She wasn’t just asking—she was begging.

His entire body locked up at her words. The fragile, fraying tether he had on himself snapped like an overdrawn wire, his instincts roaring free.

Yel shifted in his lap, pressing closer, her heat searing through his clothes like a brand. Every movement, every needy gasp sent another shockwave through his already burning nerves.

She smelled like everything he needed. Like a promise. Like a challenge. Like a mate calling for her alpha.

“Donny,” she breathed, rolling her hips against him, her voice breaking into something between a moan and a whimper. “You did this to me… now fix it.”

His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Every last bit of logical thought was gone, drowned under the sheer force of his rut and her heat.

He bared his teeth, his breath ragged, his grip on her tightening. He should say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

All that was left was instinct.

Primal. Overpowering. Unstoppable.

His vision blurred at the edges, his body burning hotter than it ever had before. There was no hesitation anymore, no restraint—just raw, unfiltered need.

And he was done fighting it.

Yel took off her top revealing her sizable soft breasts which Donny grabbed possessively. She moaned as he sucked Yel could barely contain herself as she lowered herself on his cock and could barely contain herself as she came all over him. Donny smirked and said. I guess you needed that. Yell poured as her tits bounced mesmeric.

“Yes and I need more!” She growled before riding him for the next several hours

The Animus Apartment Complex stood like a defiant relic of the past, its concrete walls scarred with the remnants of war yet still standing strong. It was a haven for those who didn’t belong anywhere else—hybrids, ex-soldiers, people trying to outrun their pasts.

And, if the rumors were true, it also housed war machines—living weapons that should have been decommissioned long ago.

That was why he was here.

The journalist adjusted his bag strap, keeping his head low as he approached the entrance. The neighborhood had eyes—sharp ones, watching from windows and doorways, sizing him up.

Before he could even knock, the door swung open. A woman stood there, arms crossed, brows raised in mild amusement.

She was striking—not in a way that screamed for attention, but in a way that made him notice. Her dark hair was long, her eyes keen and assessing, but also strangely caring. She had the casual confidence of someone who had lived through things.

“New face,” she remarked, tilting her head. “Let me guess—reporter? Cop? Or one of those conspiracy nuts who thinks we’ve got a secret underground lab in the basement?”

He smiled. “What gave me away?”

“The posture. Too stiff to be a resident, too casual to be lost.” Her gaze flicked to his hands. “No callouses—means you work with words, not weapons. So… journalist?”

“Guilty as charged.”

She smirked. “Well, unless you want someone to throw you out the back alley, you’ll need a guide. Lucky for you, I’m feeling nice today.”

She turned on her heel and walked inside, expecting him to follow.

He did.

The air inside was thick with the mingling scents of different hybrids, faint traces of machinery, and something warm—like spices and home-cooked meals. The walls had patches where bullet holes had been filled in, the floor creaked in certain places, but it was alive.

As they walked, he glanced at her. “You got a name, or should I just call you ‘my savior’?”

She snorted. “Chowon. I live here with my roommate. Cat hybrid, lazy as hell, you’ll probably meet her.”

“Sounds like a good setup.”

“Most days.” She gave him a sideways glance. “What about you? What should I call you, reporter?”

He hesitated just long enough for it to be noticeable. Then, with a smirk, he said, “Surak.”

Chowon stopped walking and raised an eyebrow. “Surak?”

“Yep.”

She narrowed her eyes, amused. “That’s not your real name.”

“Maybe.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “You one of those guys? Always playing mysterious?”

He chuckled. “It’s a code name.”

“Ohhh, a code name,” she mocked, nudging his shoulder. “What, you a spy now?”

“Maybe I just like keeping people on their toes.”

She laughed, a genuine, light sound that made the dimly lit hallway seem less heavy. “Alright, Surak. You keep your secrets, then.”

With a grin, she motioned forward.

“Come on. Let’s see if you survive a walk through Animus.”

Surak followed Chowon through the apartments taking notes at what he saw: residents renovations romance ( he noticed a lot of that)

“Hey Aurelion!” Chowon said to an approaching Lion hybrid Surak looked closer and realized that he had scales around his neck. He wondered how of him was his original species and how much was not. Surak couldn’t ask though because Aurelion was with another young lady a bat hybrid.

“Hey Cho Cho.” Aurelion said while rustling her hair. Chowon sighed as he did so. Surak smirked behind her.

“How’s my favorite human?” He said

Chowon rolled her eyes before smiling and saying, “I’m good how about you,”

“Pretty good just heading on a date with Mina and then we’re gonna take her back to her place,”

Surak and Chowon nod in understanding as the two leave.

Chowon had seen plenty of outsiders come through Animus. Some were curious, some were afraid, and some were just looking for trouble.

But Surak—whoever he really was—was different.

As they walked deeper into the apartment complex, she stole glances at him, studying his movements. He wasn’t tense like a man expecting a fight, but there was an awareness to him. Like someone who had learned, maybe the hard way, that danger could come from anywhere.

Then she saw it.

A brief shift of his collar exposed the side of his neck. There, just above his pulse point, was a mark—faint but unmistakable.

Three interlocking rings, barely raised against his skin.

Chowon’s stomach clenched.

That wasn’t just any mark.

It was the same one she had seen before—on someone who had been ripped apart and rebuilt in a lab. The same one branded onto Dio’s files when she had dug too deep into the wrong records.

The same one tied to the Cosmic Conquest experiments.

Her mouth went dry.

Who the hell are you, Surak?

She didn’t say anything. Not yet. But she watched him even closer now.

And what she saw only made her more confused.

As they passed through the hall, a young hybrid—a rabbit girl barely out of her teens—was struggling with a bag of groceries. Without hesitation, Surak stepped forward.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

The girl blinked up at him, ears twitching. “Oh! Uh—sure?”

Surak took the heavier bags like it was second nature, carrying them up the stairs for her. He didn’t even look back to see if Chowon was following—just acted like helping was the most normal thing in the world.

Later, an older fox hybrid with a prosthetic leg was trying to fix a broken light fixture in the hallway. Surak stopped, asked a few questions, then offered to help stabilize the ladder while the man worked.

No hesitation. No wariness.

He shouldn’t be this comfortable around hybrids. Not with that mark on his neck.

Not with what had been done to people like him.

Chowon folded her arms, leaning against the wall as she watched him. Finally, when he came back down the stairs, she met his eyes with an unreadable look.

“You’re not like most humans who come here.”

Surak arched an eyebrow. “That a compliment or a warning?”

She tilted her head. “Maybe both.”

He smirked, but she could tell by the flicker in his eyes that he knew she had noticed something.

For now, she didn’t push.

But the question burned in her mind:

Just how deep do your scars go, Surak?

The Animus Apartment complex was vast, a living, breathing community of hybrids and those who had found a way to coexist with them. As Surak and Chowon made their way through the corridors, the scent of oil, metal, and something almost predatory lingered in the air.

Chowon nudged Surak’s arm. “You’re about to meet a legend, you know?”

Surak chuckled, his voice light. “Oh, I know of him. But meeting him? That’s different.”

As they stepped into a communal lounge, Doflamingo leaned back in one of the oversized chairs, his ever-present smirk playing on his lips. Beside him, Asa stood, arms crossed, watching them with an unreadable gaze.

Doflamingo’s signature pink coat draped over the back of his seat as he tilted his sunglasses down just enough to glance at Surak. “So, you’re the journalist sniffing around?”

Surak offered a lazy smile, his demeanor effortlessly friendly. “I prefer ‘investigative reporter.’ ‘Sniffing around’ sounds so invasive.”

Chowon rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, Doflamingo. He’s been nothing but nice.”

Doflamingo chuckled. “Oh, I like nosy people. Means they care about the answers.”

Surak nodded. “Exactly. And from what I hear, you’ve got plenty of answers worth caring about.”

His questions started off light—Doflamingo’s thoughts on the city’s current state, how hybrids were faring post-war, his opinions on the apartment complex’s reputation. But there was something calculated about them, like each was a piece of a puzzle he was assembling in real time.

Asa picked up on it almost immediately. Her sharp eyes never left him, analyzing his every word, his posture, the too-easy charm he exuded. Then, in a brief movement as he adjusted his collar, she saw it—the faint but unmistakable mark on his neck.

The Cosmic Conqueror symbol.

Her entire body tensed.

“Excuse us for a second,” Asa said abruptly, gripping Surak’s wrist and dragging him away before Chowon or Doflamingo could protest.

She shoved him against a dimly lit hallway wall, her golden eyes burning with unmasked hostility. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed.

Surak, despite being cornered, remained utterly unbothered. He simply raised an eyebrow, amused. “Getting to know people. Making friends. You should try it.”

Asa’s grip tightened. “You have the mark. I don’t care what act you’re putting on—stay the hell away from Doflamingo. If you hurt him, I will kill you.”

For the first time, Surak actually laughed. A genuine, amused chuckle as he leaned in slightly, voice dropping into something almost dangerous in its softness.

“If I wanted someone hurt,” he murmured, “it would have been done already.”

Asa’s breath hitched. It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact.

He held her gaze for a long moment, watching as her instincts screamed at her to either attack or retreat. And then, just as smoothly, he flipped the energy entirely.

“But I like y’all,” he said cheerfully, stepping back as if the tension had never existed. “So, I’ll keep you safe.”

Asa blinked, thrown completely off guard. “What—?”

“Come on, let’s not keep them waiting,” Surak interrupted, clapping her shoulder as if they were old friends.

By the time they returned, his easy-going friendliness was back in full force.

“Everything good?” Chowon asked, looking between them.

“Great,” Surak said with a grin. “Asa was just giving me the ‘respect the family’ speech. Love that kind of loyalty.”

Doflamingo laughed, shaking his head. “She is protective.”

Asa, still reeling, said nothing. She just watched Surak closely, trying to understand what exactly he was. But as he slipped effortlessly back into casual conversation, she realized—

That’s exactly what he wanted.

A Moment of Truth

As Doflamingo and Asa disappeared down the hallway, Surak exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting across the apartment complex. The air here carried a strange warmth, the kind of atmosphere that made people want to stay. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake the weight of his thoughts.

“This place is nice,” he murmured. “I hope it stays that way.”

Chowon nodded, watching him carefully. “It will… if people like you don’t dig too deep.”

A ghost of a smirk played on Surak’s lips. “Touché.”

Chowon tilted her head, studying him. “So, what’s next, mystery man?”

Surak stretched his arms over his head, feigning nonchalance. “I think I got enough for my report.” He adjusted the collar of his jacket and offered her a small smile. “Thanks, Chowon.”

She expected him to leave right then, expected him to vanish as effortlessly as he had appeared. But as Surak turned to go, something in him twisted, a nagging voice in his head refusing to let him walk away so easily.

This wasn’t just work anymore.

His foot paused mid-step. He clenched his jaw, battling his usual instinct to keep things detached, to move on like he always did. But instead of leaving, he turned back.

His voice, usually smooth and measured, came out lower, more uncertain. “Despite me being here for work… I’ve fallen for you.” His fingers flexed at his sides before he forced himself to meet her eyes. “And I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime. If… if that’s okay with you?”

Chowon blinked, her expression unreadable at first. The moment stretched, thick with unspoken weight. Surak almost second-guessed himself—almost.

Then, her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. She took a step closer, just enough for her presence to brush against him like a whisper.

“Follow me,” she murmured, voice laced with something coy, something inviting.

Surak swallowed, his pulse quickening despite himself.

Chowon was surprised by Surak’s request but smiles. She leads him to a small closet and says,

“I’ll go on a date with you if you can satisfy me for two rounds or more,”

Surak’s heart and pulse raced as Chowon took off her top revealing more of her mouth watering body on instinct Surak put one of her tanned breast in his mouth while Chowon moaned.

“Fuck! Keep going!” She says. Surak complies as he carefully sucks and devours her breast.

Breathlessly Chowon grabs his pants and manages to get everything off of him before she can start grinding her pussy on his cock.

Surak moans as she does. Unable to help himself he pushes her panties to the side and pushes his cock in her pussy. As Chowon’s folds accept Surak’s cock she smiles.

She tilts his head to her and she sees he’s sex drunk off of her. And she smiles.

“You’re like a goddess of fertility,” Surak says and Chowon smiles before saying

“then breed me like one,”

Those words set Surak over the edge as he thrust into her before exploding inside of her

Chowon moans as his cum fills her womb, but Surak can’t stop he keeps pounding her pussy till she cums moments later. Their eyes lock and the lust that radiates between them. Chowon notices Surak’s eyes have changed color a sorrowful teal had taken the place of the dark maroon they were before. Chowon raises an eyebrow curious as to why or what happened. Never the matter she drags Surak to her apartment where her cat hybrid roommate Nayoung is sleeping peacefully on the couch her cat ears flicked up as she noticed the two. Nayoung tilted her head and said, “who’s this?”

“My new boyfriend,” Chowon declared before looking back at Surak, then adding “well maybe” Nayoung smiled knowingly before drifting back to sleep.

After the doors closed Chowon was back on Surak again. Unfettered kisses and untamed passion as she mounted him again. She moaned and said,

“Moment of truth play boy.” She declared as she slowly rode his cock. She did everything she could do make him explode inside of her. She was delirious and cock drunk as he filled her again. She felt his tip hit her cervix as she ground on his pelvis. She would moan and wail as she felt him throb and ache inside of her sopping pussy. Her tightness and body began to radiate an almost malicious level of lust as she drowned the entire room in it. Despite her pretty face and innocent features there was a ravenous animal inside Chowon and she was finally getting to let it all out.

As time passed the two kept this slow vicious sex cycle up. Chowon smiled, “you know most guys have failed long before this Surak.” She said as she picked up the pace. Her breasts jiggling with unrepentant glee. Surak smiled as he took one in his hand, “I didn’t want to disappoint ,” he said as Chowon came. Surak continued his thrusts inside of her and she screamed at the overstimulation before he pulled out and put her in Doggystyle. Chowon moaned as his cock rammmed into her.

“Fuck! Dick me down and cum in me,” she growled and Surak obliged continually upping the pace before he came in her. Chowon came again pushed way past her limit sexed out beyond belief as she fell into his arms and they passed out on her bed

“How did I do?” Surak asked smirking. Chowon turned to him and said, “you passed. Now you can take me to dinner,”

Meeting the Roommate

Surak followed Chowon down the dimly lit hallway, his sharp eyes scanning the little details of her apartment’s decor. It was surprisingly cozy—warm lights, soft blankets draped over the couch, and the faint scent of vanilla and something floral. It suited her.

As Chowon pushed open the door to her room, she called out, “Nayoung, we have company.”

A soft rustling came from the other side of the room before a figure appeared, stretching lazily. Nayoung, a cat hybrid with sleek dark hair and golden feline eyes, yawned as she took in the sight of Surak standing behind Chowon. Her tail flicked once, her gaze settling on him with obvious intrigue.

“Well, well,” Nayoung drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “So this is the mystery man.”

Surak merely raised an eyebrow, hands casually tucked into his pockets.

Nayoung smirked at Chowon before turning back to him. “I gotta say, I’m impressed. Chowon’s not exactly easy to please—physically or mentally. She’s a demanding one.”

Chowon rolled her eyes. “I’m right here, you know.”

But Nayoung ignored her, stepping closer to Surak and inspecting him like a cat assessing a new toy. “You must be something special if you managed to satisfy her. Congratulations, by the way—she’s been insatiable lately.”

Chowon gasped, her cheeks turning red. “Nayoung!”

“What? It’s true,” Nayoung said with a playful shrug. Then, her eyes glinted mischievously. “Just a heads-up, though—under that sweet, innocent face, she’s as fierce as a lioness. She will devour you if you let her. She can be… intense.”

Surak met Nayoung’s teasing gaze without flinching. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and smirked. “I hunt monsters. A lion is no big deal.”

Nayoung blinked, then let out a delighted laugh. “Oh yeah, you’ll be real good for Chowon.”

Chowon groaned, covering her face as Nayoung continued giggling. Surak just smirked, his confidence unwavering. He had faced things far more terrifying than a mischievous cat and a so-called lioness.

And honestly?

He liked the challenge.

#k pop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #h1 key #h1 key smut #yel smut #asa babymonster #asa enami #asa smut #magenta smut #magenta qwer #qwer fanfic #qwer magenta

57 notes · View notes