#matt tempe x reader

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone 6  | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 PART ONE HERE. PART TWO HERE. PART THREE HERE. PART FOUR HERE. PART FIVE HERE. 21,261 words

The Finale

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A/N: alright i'm not sure how well this flows, and its got a lot of build up that could probably be cut out, but i've been working on this draft for a month so here it is! thank you all so much for reading it and I swear when I revisit writing about Matthew Rempe it will be better and less parts lol. ENJOY IF YOU CAN! -alt

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It had been a few days since Matt left, and we’d barely talked. His hoodie had become a fixture in my wardrobe—not because I was making some grand romantic statement, but because it was comfortable, and maybe also because it felt like a small piece of him was still here. Still, the silence between us gnawed at me.

I was at the coffee shop near campus, pretending to study while nursing a lukewarm chai latte, when Rachel, Jessie, and Mae appeared. I glanced up just as Rachel sat across from me, her expression far too smug for my liking.

“Hi?” I said, confused.

“Don’t ‘hi’ us,” Rachel replied. “We’re here for answers.”

Mae and Jessie sat down on either side of me, boxing me in. My stomach twisted.

“Answers about what?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jessie said, her tone light but determined. “We’ve been piecing things together. The hoodie, the airport, the guy Rachel saw picking you up from class—you’ve got some kind of secret life going on, and we want to know why.”

“It’s not a secret life,” I said defensively.

Mae arched an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you told us anything about this mystery guy? If he’s important enough to have you walking around in his clothes, shouldn’t we know who he is?”

“It’s not like that,” I muttered, tugging at the hoodie’s sleeves.

“Y/N,” Rachel said, her voice softer now, “we’re your friends. We just want to know what’s going on with you.”

“That’s the thing,” Jessie added. “You’re clearly into this guy—or at least he’s important to you. Why don’t you trust us enough to tell us about him?”

“It’s not about trust!” I snapped, louder than I intended. Heads turned at nearby tables, and I lowered my voice, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “It’s just…complicated, okay?”

Mae exchanged a look with Rachel, who leaned forward. “Complicated how?”

“I don’t know!” I said, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t even know what’s happening with him right now. We haven’t really talked since he left, and I feel like I’m stuck in this weird in-between where I don’t know if I’m his friend or…” I trailed off, biting my lip.

“Or something more?” Mae finished gently.

I dropped my gaze to my coffee, my fingers tightening around the cup. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Jessie sighed. “Y/N, we’re not trying to make you feel bad. But you’re obviously struggling with this, and we just want to help.”

“I know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s not just my thing to share. He’s…he’s private, and his life is really different from ours. I don’t even know if I should be talking about him.”

Rachel’s expression softened. “Okay, we get that. But, Y/N, you don’t have to deal with this alone. We’re here for you, no matter what.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Thanks,” I said quietly.

The table fell silent for a moment, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Mae broke it with a small smile. “Well, for the record, we still think he’s lucky to have you, whatever he is to you.”

I managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Mae.”

They let the subject drop after that, but the weight of their concern lingered. As I packed up my things to leave, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. They were only pushing because they cared, and here I was, keeping them in the dark.

I slipped out of the coffee shop, pulling Matt’s hoodie tighter around me as I headed home. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and for a moment, I thought it might be him. But when I checked, it was just a reminder for an assignment deadline.

With a sigh, I shoved the phone back into my pocket.

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That night, I lay in bed, staring at my phone. I’d stopped myself from texting Matt at least five times throughout the day, telling myself that if he wanted to talk, he would. But the silence was getting to me.

I sighed, rolling onto my side and pulling his hoodie tighter around me. Maybe he was just busy. The team’s schedule had been a mess ever since he left, and I knew they were dealing with rink issues, travel changes, and constant meetings. But still… it wasn’t like him to go this long without checking in.

Before I could overthink it any further, my phone vibrated.

Thursday, September 19, 2024 Today, 11:34pm

MATT: You up?

I blinked at the screen. Speak of the devil.

ME: Maybe. MATT: That’s a yes. ME: What’s up?

There was a long pause, and I could see the three little dots flicker on and off. Finally, his reply came through.

MATT: Just wanted to hear from you. It’s been a few days.

My stomach flipped at that.

ME: Yeah, I noticed. MATT: Sorry. It’s been nonstop since I got back.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I didn’t want to sound needy, but I also didn’t want to pretend like it hadn’t been bothering me.

ME: I get it. Just felt a little weird, that’s all. MATT: Yeah. Me too.

I frowned at the screen. Me too? What did that even mean?

ME: Weird how?

This time, the dots lingered for what felt like an eternity before disappearing. I sighed, rolling onto my back and staring at the ceiling. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

But then—

MATT: I guess I got used to being there. Seeing you.

I swallowed, my pulse quickening.

ME: You were here for, like, two days. MATT: And?

I chewed my lip, trying to ignore the way my heart was beating way too fast.

ME: And… I guess I got used to it too.

The second I sent it, I wanted to throw my phone across the room. But before I could spiral too hard, his reply came in almost instantly.

MATT: So what are we gonna do about that, San Diego?

I stared at his message, my brain short-circuiting. What were we going to do about it?

I exhaled, shaking my head at myself. I wasn’t even sure what this was.

ME: I don’t know. You tell me.

A full minute passed. Then—

MATT: How do you feel about New York?

My breath caught. Was he serious?

ME: You mean, like, in general? Or…? MATT: No, I mean you. Coming here.

I sat up in bed, my heart hammering against my ribs. Was he actually asking me to visit? After weeks of dancing around whatever was happening between us, was this it?

ME: You want me to come to New York? MATT: Yeah. I do. MATT: Unless that’s weird. Is that weird?

I laughed out loud, shaking my head.

ME: You’re the one inviting me. You tell me if it’s weird. MATT: Not weird. MATT: Kinda feels overdue, actually.

I inhaled sharply, warmth creeping up my neck. He wasn’t wrong.

ME: You realize I have a whole life here, right? I can’t just drop everything and fly across the country. MATT: I know. I’m just saying… think about it.

I flopped back onto my pillows, staring at the ceiling. New York.

The idea of seeing Matt again—seeing him there, in his world—sent a rush of nervous excitement through me.

I didn’t know what this was between us. But maybe it was time to find out.

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The idea of New York lingered in my mind for the next few days. No matter how much I tried to focus on school, on my friends, on anything else, it was always there—this nagging little thought that wouldn’t leave me alone. I hadn’t given Matt an answer yet. Part of me wasn’t sure why. Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

Going to New York—seeing him again—felt like stepping over some kind of invisible line. And I wasn’t sure what happened once I did. Would we still be the same? Would it feel like those months of texting and late-night FaceTimes, or would it be different? And what if different wasn’t good? It was stupid. I wanted to see him. I just didn’t know if I was ready for everything that might come with it. I was mulling it over again when my phone rang.

Matt.

I hesitated for half a second before answering. “Hey.”

“You still thinking?” he asked, skipping the greeting entirely.

I huffed a quiet laugh. “Maybe.”

A pause. Then—“I miss you.”

I froze, gripping my phone a little tighter. He said it so easily, like it was just a fact. And maybe it was. My heart flipped. “You saw me a week ago.”

“Yeah, and?”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “You make things complicated, you know that?”

“I make things simple,” he countered. “You’re the one overthinking.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe.”

“So stop thinking,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Come to New York.”

I bit my lip. I could hear the distant hum of traffic behind him, the city moving at its usual breakneck pace. The sound sent a thrill through me. “I have school,” I reminded him, but it was a weak excuse.

“It’s one weekend.” I hesitated. “San Diego,” he said, softer now. “Just say yes.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

I smiled. “Yes, Matt. I’ll come to New York.” He let out a triumphant yes on the other end, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t make me regret this,” I warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. 

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll look at flights tonight and let you know—”

“Yeah… about that,” Matt interrupted, a little too casually.

I narrowed my eyes, immediately suspicious. “Matt.”

“So, I may have already booked one for you,” he admitted, completely unapologetic.

I sat up straighter. “You what?”

“Well, I assumed you’d say yes,” he said, as if that was a completely reasonable explanation. “And flights were getting expensive, so I just figured—”

“You figured?” I repeated, incredulous.

“Yes,” he said, shameless. “Don’t act like you weren’t gonna come anyway.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Annoyingly, he wasn’t wrong. Still, I wasn’t going to let him get away with this that easily. “What if I had said no?”

“You wouldn’t have,” he said confidently. “But worst case scenario, I guess I’d be spending a suspicious amount of time in San Diego until you changed your mind.”

I groaned, pressing a hand to my forehead. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re coming to New York,” he said, smug. “So, really, everyone wins.”

I sighed, but a small smile tugged at my lips. “Send me the details.”

“Already did.”

I glanced down at my phone, and sure enough, there was an email confirmation sitting in my inbox. Unbelievable.

“This is insane,” I muttered, clicking it open.

“Correction: this is happening,” Matt countered. “And you’re gonna love it.”

I shook my head, fighting back the warmth blooming in my chest. “Guess I better start packing, then.”

“Guess so,” he said. Then, a beat later, “Told you you’d say yes.”

I hung up on him. His laughter was still ringing in my ears.

I clutched my phone in my hand, staring down at the screen. I could finally stop wearing this oversized hoodie in all this summer heat just to feel like he hadn’t had to disappear. He hadn’t forgotten about me, hadn’t left me behind in the whirlwind of his life in New York. I was going to him. A grin broke across my face before I could stop it, warmth rushing through my chest.

“Okay, what just happened?”

I looked up to see Rachel and Mae standing a few feet away, both watching me like I’d just grown a second head. They must’ve just left their last class of the day, but whatever they’d been talking about before was clearly forgotten now.

Mae crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Five minutes ago, you looked like you were about to fight God. Now you look like you just won the lottery.”

Rachel tilted her head. “Did mystery guy finally text you back?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to reel in my expression. “Maybe.”

Mae scoffed. “Oh, come on.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes. “You know, you’re really bad at being secretive.”

I sighed, pressing my phone to my chest. “It’s—he just… invited me to visit.”

Both of their eyebrows shot up.

“And?” Rachel prompted.

I hesitated for half a second before exhaling. “And I’m going.”

Mae’s jaw dropped. “Oh, now this is getting interesting.”

Rachel pointed at me. “So, let me get this straight. You won’t tell us who he is, but you will fly across the country to see him?”

I winced. “That… sounds bad when you say it like that.”

Mae just shook her head. “Girl, at this point, I don’t even care who he is—I just want to know what he is to you.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but for all the excitement bubbling up inside me, I still didn’t know how to. What was he to me? A friend. A secret. A boy who had somehow become a part of my life in ways I never saw coming. And now, I was about to find out what happened next.

"He's…" I started, then hesitated. My fingers tightened around my phone as I searched for the right words, the right way to explain something I barely understood myself. Rachel and Mae both stared at me expectantly, waiting. Finally, I exhaled. "Matt." Silence.

Mae’s eyes narrowed. "Matt what?"

Rachel’s expression flickered with realization first. "Matt—" She cut herself off, her jaw dropping slightly. "No way."

Mae glanced between us. "Wait, what? What am I missing?"

Rachel turned to her, then back to me, then exhaled like she was trying to put together a puzzle that suddenly made way too much sense. "Is he—?" I didn’t confirm or deny it. I just lifted my coffee cup to my lips, taking a slow sip like that would somehow make me invisible.

Mae let out a dramatic groan. "Oh, come on! What is happening? Someone explain!"

Rachel ignored her, still studying me with wide eyes. "You’ve been talking to him this whole time?"

I swallowed hard, then gave the tiniest nod. "Yeah."

Mae threw her hands in the air. "Okay, clearly, I am not connecting the dots fast enough here, but you are going to explain everything to us before you get on that plane."

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the secret I’d been carrying start to lift—just a little. Because for the first time since this all started, I wasn’t keeping Matt completely to myself anymore.

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By the time we got back to my apartment, I was exhausted from all the questioning. But I knew they weren’t going to let this go, and honestly, a part of me didn’t want them to. Keeping this secret had been weighing on me more than I realized. I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the couch as Rachel and Mae sat across from me, expectant.

“Alright,” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Let me just…explain everything.”

Rachel crossed her arms. “Please do.”

Mae just nodded, eyes locked onto me like I was about to drop the most scandalous drama of the decade.

I took a deep breath. “So… it started with a wrong number.”

I went back to the beginning—the first text, the months of back-and-forth banter, the anonymous friendship that somehow became something real. I told them about finding out who he was, the New York trip, how we kept talking after that, and how he showed up here, right outside my class. They listened intently, not interrupting, not even exchanging their usual knowing glances. They let me tell it all—how I didn’t know what any of this meant, how confusing it was, how Matt had practically forced me to admit we weren’t just ‘texting buddies’ anymore. When I finally finished, Mae let out a long breath.

“So… you’re telling me,” she said, slowly, “that this entire time, you’ve been talking to, FaceTiming, and literally hanging out with a guy who—on a completely unrelated note—just so happens to be a professional hockey player in the NHL?”

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes. “And you didn’t think this was worth mentioning?”

I groaned. “It’s not like that! I didn’t hide it on purpose—I just…” I hesitated. “I guess I didn’t know how to explain it. And I didn’t want it to turn into a thing.”

Rachel scoffed. “Y/N, it is a thing.”

Mae tilted her head. “Okay, but you call him Matt?”

I frowned. “Yeah…?”

Rachel let out a dramatic gasp, smacking Mae’s arm. “Oh my God, she calls him Matt.”

Mae turned to me. “You don’t call him Rempe?”

I blinked at them. “Why would I call him Rempe?”

Rachel shook her head in disbelief. “Because everyone calls him Rempe. Fans, commentators, teammates—literally everyone.”

I hesitated, then shrugged. “Well… I call him Manhattan mostly.”

Rachel threw up her hands. “That’s even worse!”

I buried my face in my hands. “Why does it matter?”

“Because,” Mae groaned, “nicknames mean things.”

Rachel pointed at me. “And that means he lets you call him something no one else does.”

I stayed quiet, stomach twisting uncomfortably because… well, I didn’t really have an argument against that.

Rachel sighed. “So… you’re really going to New York?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Mae studied me for a long moment, then finally said, “And you’re okay with whatever happens?”

I swallowed, not quite sure of the answer myself. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I want to find out.”

Rachel and Mae exchanged one final glance before Rachel sighed dramatically. “Alright. But if you don’t tell us everything when you get back, we’re breaking into your apartment and demanding answers.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Deal.”

Mae sat back. “And if he screws this up, we’ll personally fly to New York to fight him.”

I snorted. “I’ll let him know.”

Mae’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, silent for a second before looking up at me.

“So, are you all good to repeat all of that for Jessie?”

I groaned, flopping back against the couch. “Are you serious?”

Rachel snickered, peering over Mae’s shoulder. “She’s already on her way.”

I sat up, staring at them in disbelief. “You texted her while I was explaining everything?”

Mae shrugged. “I figured she’d want to be included. And she was the first one to put the pieces together, remember?”

I let out a long breath, glancing at the door like I could somehow stop Jessie from getting here with sheer willpower. “Unbelievable.”

Rachel grinned. “You better start warming up, because you’re about to do this all over again.”

I shook my head, but despite my frustration, I couldn’t help but smile a little. Because for the first time in days, things felt right again.

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The next couple of days passed in a blur. Between finishing up assignments, dodging more questions from Mae and Rachel, and figuring out how to pack for unpredictable New York weather, I barely had time to sit still. But the moment I stepped into the airport, the reality of what I was doing finally hit me. I was flying across the country. To see him.

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as I made my way to security. It wasn’t like this was the first time I’d been to New York, but this was different. This wasn’t a school trip. There was no group itinerary, no teachers guiding us from point A to point B. It was just me, boarding a plane to see Matt. I pulled out my phone as I stood in line, tapping out a message.

Saturday, September 28, 2024 Today, 8:19am

ME: I’m here. Getting through security now.

His reply came almost instantly.

MATT: Told you you’d make it. ME: I could still turn around, you know. MATT: You could. But you won’t.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. He was right. I wasn’t backing out now.

A few minutes later, I was through security and sitting at my gate, bouncing my knee as I scrolled absently through my phone. My mind wouldn’t stop racing. Would things feel the same in person this time? Would it be different now that there were no excuses, no random coincidences keeping us apart?

My phone buzzed again.

MATT: Safe flight, San Diego.

I smiled.

ME: See you soon, Manhattan.

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The flight was smooth, but my nerves were anything but. I spent most of it staring out the window, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling. There was no denying that things felt different now. Before, there had always been this barrier—distance, schedules, bad timing. But now? Now, I was flying straight to him. No more excuses. When the plane finally touched down at JFK, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I pulled out my phone as I taxied to the gate.

Thursday, September 28, 2024 Today, 1:48pm

ME: Landed.

The dots appeared immediately.

MATT: Told you you wouldn’t turn around. ME: Still time to make a run for it. MATT: I’d just track you down.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. He wasn’t wrong. Grabbing my carry-on, I made my way through the airport, my heart hammering with every step. The closer I got to baggage claim, the more real this became. I scanned the crowd as I walked, not entirely sure what I was looking for.

And then I saw him.

Matt was leaning casually against a pillar, baseball cap pulled low, hands tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie. But even with the hat, even in the crowd, he stood out. The moment his eyes found mine, his face split into a grin.

“San Diego,” he called, pushing off the pillar and making his way toward me. I barely had time to react before he pulled me into a hug—warm, solid, and way too easy. “You actually came,” he murmured, his voice just low enough for only me to hear.

I swallowed hard, my hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie for a second before I pulled back slightly. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

Matt looked down at me, something unreadable in his expression before he smirked. “You hungry? Because I already have a plan.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”

He nodded. “Obviously. I couldn’t risk you coming all this way and having a bad first meal in New York.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning. “Alright, Manhattan. Lead the way.”

And just like that, I was here. In New York. With him. Matt took my bag without asking, slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. Then, with a tilt of his head, he led me toward the exit.

"Hope you’re ready for the full New York experience," he said as we stepped out into the warm night air.

I scoffed. "Please. I survived a weekend here before, remember?"

He shot me a look. "Yeah, but that was before you had me as your tour guide."

Before I could argue, he reached for my hand, fingers closing around mine as he weaved us through the crowd. My brain short-circuited for half a second, but I didn’t pull away. It wasn’t like we hadn’t touched before—he’d hugged me, pulled me into his side, even held my hand briefly when we’d made our escape to his rental car back in San Diego. But this? This felt different. Like maybe he didn’t have to hold my hand. Maybe he just wanted to. The second we stepped to the curb, a black SUV pulled up smoothly in front of us.

I raised an eyebrow. "Did you—?"

"Yeah, yeah," Matt said, already opening the door for me. "Before you make fun of me, it’s just easier this way. Trust me, trying to get a cab around here is a nightmare, and I don’t think you’re ready for me to put you on the subway yet."

My stomach flipped, and I slid into the car before he could see the way my face burned at the idea. Pull it together. Matt took off his hat, hood, and sunglasses combo that he'd been using as what I assume is a disguise. Once we were both inside and moving, I turned to him. "So, what’s this all-important first meal you planned?"

He grinned. "I figured we’d go for the most elite, high-end dining experience this city has to offer."

I narrowed my eyes. "Matt…"

He leaned back against the seat, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Dollar slice, obviously."

I stared at him. "You flew me across the country to get gas station-level pizza?"

"Absolutely not," he said, feigning offense. "This is New York. Even the bad pizza is good. And if you’re gonna be here, you have to experience it properly."

I sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if it’s gross, I get to hold this over your head forever."

Matt just smirked. "Deal."

The ride was short, and soon enough, we were standing on the sidewalk outside a tiny pizza place, the smell of melted cheese and garlic hitting me immediately. The neon sign in the window flickered slightly, casting a warm glow on the pavement.

"Moment of truth," Matt said, handing me a paper plate with a massive, greasy slice on it.

I took a bite, my skepticism instantly melting away as the perfect combination of cheese, sauce, and crispy crust hit my taste buds.

Matt watched me expectantly. "Well?"

I chewed, swallowed, then sighed. "Annoyingly, that’s really good."

He laughed. "Told you." We ate on the sidewalk, leaning against the brick wall of the building as people passed by. It should’ve felt chaotic—cars honking, the distant wail of a siren, the hum of city life all around us—but somehow, standing there with Matt, it felt… easy.

"You’re not regretting this yet, are you?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now.

I glanced at him, the neon lights reflecting in his eyes.

"No," I admitted. "Not even a little."

His smile was softer this time, less teasing. "Good."

And just like that, New York didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore. After we finished our slices, Matt crumpled up his napkin and tossed it into a nearby trash can with a lazy overhand shot. It bounced off the rim, and I snorted as it fell to the ground.

"Smooth," I teased.

"Okay, rude," he muttered, scooping it up and actually throwing it away this time. "I didn’t come here to be bullied."

I licked a bit of sauce off my thumb. "That’s literally half our friendship, Manhattan."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, nudging my shoulder lightly with his. "Come on, we’ve got more important things to do."

I raised an eyebrow. "Like?"

"You’ll see."

I let him lead the way, the energy of the city buzzing all around us. We walked for a few blocks, falling into an easy rhythm, and I realized just how much I’d missed this—the banter, the laughter, the way being around Matt made everything feel a little lighter. Eventually, we reached what looked like a tiny convenience store tucked between two larger buildings. Its old, peeling awning barely hung on, and there was a faded chalkboard sign outside that read: Best dessert in NYC. Don’t argue.

I eyed Matt suspiciously. "First gas station pizza, now this?"

He grinned. "Trust me."

I followed him inside, where the overwhelming scent of sugar and fried dough immediately filled my nose. It took me a second to realize what I was looking at—bins of fresh pastries lined the counter, and behind the register, a man was rolling dough by hand.

"You ever had a zeppole before?" Matt asked, already pulling out his wallet.

I shook my head. "Can’t say I have."

Matt just smirked. "Then prepare to have your life changed."

A few minutes later, we were back on the street, each holding a paper bag filled with warm, powdered sugar-covered dough balls. I popped one into my mouth, and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head.

"Okay," I said after a moment. "This? This was a solid choice."

Matt beamed like he’d won something. "Knew you’d come around."

We wandered the streets as we ate, neither of us in any rush to get anywhere. The city had an energy to it that was impossible to ignore—bright lights, bustling sidewalks, the ever-present hum of life happening all around us.

Eventually, we made our way toward the waterfront, the skyline stretching out in front of us in all its glowing, chaotic beauty. Matt leaned against the railing, looking out at the view, and I couldn’t help but study him for a second—the way the wind ruffled his hair, the way the lights reflected in his eyes.

"So," he said after a moment, "do I get to know how long you’re staying?"

I hesitated, then sighed. "I mean, I don’t have a set plan or anything. Just… a few days, I guess?"

He made a face. "That’s it?"

I shrugged. "I do have a life back home, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. Then, a little quieter, "Just wish it was longer."

My stomach did an annoying little flip at that, but I ignored it, nudging him with my elbow. "Guess you’ll just have to make the most of it then, huh?"

Matt turned his head to look at me, his expression unreadable for a second. Then he smiled.

"Guess so."

As we stood by the railing, the city lights shimmering across the water, I felt Matt shift beside me. His shoulder brushed against mine, easy and familiar, and for a moment, it felt like we were in our own little world. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement—a group of guys sitting on a bench a little ways back, one of them holding up his phone.

My stomach dropped.

“Matt,” I muttered, forcing myself to keep my voice even.

“Hm?”

I subtly tilted my head in the direction of the group. “Don’t make it obvious, but I think those guys just took a picture of you.”

He let out a slow breath through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Awesome.”

I saw his fingers twitch like he wanted to reach up and adjust his cap, maybe pull it lower over his face, but the damage was already done. The guy with the phone was grinning now, nudging his friends, showing them whatever was on his screen.

“Okay,” I said quietly, thinking fast. “We should probably go before this turns into a whole thing.”

Matt nodded once. “Yeah. Let’s move.”

We turned away from the railing, walking at a normal pace, but I could feel my pulse speeding up. I didn’t dare look back, but I could hear them talking now—low, excited murmurs. As we neared the street, Matt exhaled sharply. “I’m so sick of this,” he muttered under his breath.

I didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, I just reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

His fingers tightened around mine instantly, like it was second nature.

"Come on," I said, tugging him forward. "Find a place we can duck into for a bit."

Matt didn’t let go of my hand the entire way there.

I led him down a quieter side street, my mind racing. The last thing I wanted was for some blurry, grainy photo of him to end up online with a caption that would send the internet into a spiral.

We turned a corner, and I spotted a small bookstore-café tucked between two buildings. Without hesitating, I pulled Matt toward it.

"In here," I said, pushing the door open. A little bell jingled overhead.

Matt followed me inside, the warmth of his hand still wrapped around mine. The place was quiet, mostly empty, except for a barista behind the counter and an older man flipping through a newspaper by the window. The scent of coffee and old books filled the air, and for the first time since I’d spotted those guys, I felt my shoulders relax.

"Nice choice," Matt murmured as we stepped further inside.

I glanced up at him. "You okay?"

His lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled. "Yeah. Just… annoyed."

I nodded. I couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t fair—how he couldn’t just exist in public without someone trying to capture it.

He let go of my hand for the first time since we’d left the pier and ran a hand down his face. "You think they’ll post it?"

I bit my lip. "Probably. But maybe it'll just be a random, low-quality picture with no context. Like, ‘Oh look, I saw Matt Rempe in New York.’ It might not be a big deal."

He sighed. "Yeah. Maybe."

I nudged him lightly. "Want me to distract you? We are in a bookstore."

That got a small smile out of him. "What, you gonna make me pick out a novel?"

"Obviously." I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him toward the shelves. "Come on, Manhattan. Let's find out if you have any taste."

His grin widened just a little. "Oh, this should be good."

For the next half hour, we wandered the store, poking fun at each other’s choices, flipping through random pages, and forgetting—for a little while—about the outside world. And when we finally left, stepping back out into the cool night air, Matt’s shoulders weren’t as tense, and neither of us checked over our shoulders.

Instead, he just bumped his arm against mine and said, "Thanks, San Diego."

And I smiled, because for once, I knew exactly what he meant.

As we stepped out of the bookstore, a sleek black SUV was already pulling up to the curb. Matt must have called it while we were inside. The driver barely looked up as we climbed in, and I buckled my seatbelt, glancing over at him.

"So," I said slowly. "How much do I owe you for the hotel?"

Matt turned his head toward me, one eyebrow lifting in amusement. "Hotel?" he repeated.

"Yeah?" I frowned. "Where you’re putting me up for the weekend?"

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Come on, you think I’d put you up in some shithole?" He leaned back against the seat, stretching his legs out. "I’ve got three bedrooms, San Diego. You’re staying with me."

I blinked. "Oh."

That should have been obvious, shouldn’t it? But it wasn’t like we’d talked about it. I just assumed he’d set me up somewhere else because that’s what made sense. I mean, sure, we talked all the time, and yeah, I was here to see him, but staying at his place felt… significant.

"You good with that?" he asked after a beat, watching me carefully.

"Yeah, of course," I said quickly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Just… wasn’t expecting it."

He smirked. "What, nervous to share a roof with me?"

I rolled my eyes. "You are like, six foot seven. If I wake up to you looming over me in the dark, I will scream."

Matt barked out a laugh. "Noted. I’ll keep my looming to a minimum."

I shook my head, but I couldn’t help but smile as I stared out the window. The streets of New York blurred past, the city lights glowing in the distance. This whole trip was already feeling surreal, and it had barely even started.

And now, I was staying with Matt.

I swallowed hard, ignoring the way my stomach flipped at the thought.

The car ride was mostly quiet after that, filled with the sounds of the city outside and the occasional glance Matt shot my way. I could tell he was trying to gauge whether I was actually fine with staying at his place.

I was. Probably.

Okay, maybe I was overthinking it, but who could blame me? It was one thing to text and call and FaceTime, to spend hours talking without the reality of physical proximity. It was another to step directly into his world—his city, his home.

The SUV pulled up outside a modern-looking apartment building in a quieter part of the city, the kind of place that had a doorman and security like that was just a normal thing people needed.

I raised an eyebrow. “This is you?”

Matt grinned as he slid out of the car. “Surprised?”

“A little.”

I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting, but somehow, this was… nicer? It was one thing to know he was a professional athlete, but stepping into his space made it real in a whole new way.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the entrance.

I followed him into the lobby, which smelled like expensive cologne and fresh flowers. The doorman greeted Matt by name, and I tried to ignore the way that made something twist in my chest. He belonged here. This was his world. A short elevator ride later, we stepped into his apartment, and—yeah, okay. I definitely hadn’t been prepared for this. The place was massive, especially by New York standards. Open floor plan, high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. It was modern but still felt lived in—a couple of jackets tossed over the back of a chair, a hockey stick propped against the wall, a half-empty water bottle on the counter.

“Well,” Matt said, setting my bag down by the couch. “Welcome to Casa de Rempe.”

I let out a low whistle, turning in a slow circle. “This is insane.”

He laughed. “I like to think of it as ‘comfortable.’”

“Right. Comfortable. Because most people’s apartments look like they belong in a magazine.”

Matt just smirked, walking toward the kitchen. “You hungry? I can order something, unless you wanna go out?”

I hesitated. “You sure it’s safe to go out?”

He turned, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “What, worried about getting mobbed by my adoring fans?”

I shot him a look. “I just mean… there were already people taking pictures earlier.”

Matt’s smirk faded slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. That might happen.”

I swallowed. This was the part I had tried not to think about too much. It was one thing to know he was kind of a big deal. It was another to feel eyes on us in public, to know that someone might post a blurry photo online with a thousand different theories attached.

“Hey,” Matt said softly, pushing off the counter and coming closer. “If you don’t wanna deal with all that, we can just stay in. No pressure.”

I hesitated for a second, then shook my head. “No, I wanna go. If you’re up for it.”

His smile returned, slow and easy. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve got the perfect place in mind.”

And just like that, my stomach flipped again—because of course he had a plan. And the way he was looking at me made it feel a lot like a date.

Matt didn’t tell me where we were going, just that I should “trust him.” Which, given the fact that we’d barely spent any time together in person, probably should’ve made me nervous. But it didn’t.

Instead, I let him guide me back down to the waiting SUV, his hand briefly resting on my lower back as we stepped inside.

“Alright, Manhattan,” I said, settling into the seat. “Where exactly are we headed?”

He smirked. “You’ll see.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re really milking this whole mysterious thing, huh?”

He shrugged. “If I tell you now, you’ll have too much time to overthink it.”

I crossed my arms, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. The drive was quick—maybe ten, fifteen minutes—before we pulled up in front of what looked like a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant tucked between two larger buildings. The kind of place that didn’t need flashy signs or advertisements because the people who knew about it knew about it. Matt thanked the driver and climbed out, coming around to open my door before I could do it myself. Again.

I stepped out, glancing around. “Okay, I’ll bite. What is this place?”

“One of my favorites,” he said, grinning. “Super low-key, no one’s gonna bother us, and they’ve got the best food in the city.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bold claim.”

He just smirked, stepping aside to hold the door open for me. “Guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”

Inside, the restaurant was dimly lit and cozy, the kind of place that felt like a secret. A few people were scattered at different tables, but no one even looked up as we were led to a booth near the back.

Matt waited for me to slide into one side before taking the other, and almost immediately, the waiter greeted him like an old friend.

“You’ve got a usual, don’t you?” I teased once the waiter had walked away.

Matt leaned back, grinning. “What can I say? I’m a man of habit.”

“Oh yeah? What else do you do out of habit?”

His smirk twitched slightly, and for a second, I thought he might say something cocky, something to make me roll my eyes. But instead, he studied me for a moment before saying, “I always call you San Diego, even when I could’ve started to call you by your name a long time ago, Y/N.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift in tone.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just felt… safer, I guess. Like if I kept things how they were, I wouldn’t have to think too much about how I actually—” He cut himself off, shaking his head slightly. “Anyway. What about you? Any weird habits?”

I opened my mouth, then hesitated, feeling my face warm slightly. “Uh… I may or may not have been wearing your hoodie since you left.”

Matt’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, before his lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “Oh yeah?”

I immediately regretted saying anything. “Forget I said that.”

“Nope, not happening,” he said, leaning forward. “That’s actually adorable. You miss me, San Diego?”

I scoffed, grabbing a menu and holding it up like a shield. “I miss having an extra hoodie, that’s all.”

Matt chuckled, but before he could say anything else, the waiter returned with our drinks.

And as much as I tried to play it off, I could still feel Matt’s eyes on me, like he was trying to figure me out.

Like maybe he had been thinking about what came next—just as much as I had.

The food was, unsurprisingly, incredible. Matt’s “usual” turned out to be a plate of pasta that looked so good I couldn’t help but steal a bite. He pretended to be scandalized.

“Bold move, San Diego,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Stealing food from me on the first night.”

“First night?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Confident, aren’t we?”

He smirked, leaning back in the booth. “Just saying. You’ve got three days here. Plenty of time to make it up to me.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

The conversation flowed easily after that, light and effortless, and for a little while, I forgot about everything else—about the flashes of cameras at the airport, about the overwhelming chaos of being here. It was just Matt and me, like it had been all those months on the phone, only better.

When the check came, Matt snatched it up before I could even pretend to reach for my wallet.

“Seriously?” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “You’re just going to pay without even pretending to let me split it?”

“You can get the next one,” he said, standing and offering me his hand to help me out of the booth.

“Next one, huh?” I teased, taking his hand.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Next one.”

I looked up at him, caught in the weight of his gaze for a moment longer than I meant to be, before stepping back and letting go of his hand. Outside, the city felt alive in a way that was overwhelming but exciting. The sidewalks were crowded with people, and the lights from the surrounding buildings cast a warm glow over everything.

We started walking, Matt sticking close enough that our arms occasionally brushed. “So,” I said, glancing at him. “What’s next on this very mysterious agenda of yours?”

“You’ll see,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Again with the secrets,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re really leaning into this whole man-of-mystery thing, huh?”

He grinned. “You like it.”

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, he wasn’t wrong.

We walked for a while longer, the streets becoming quieter and less crowded, until we reached a small park tucked between two buildings. There was a fountain in the center, its water shimmering under the streetlights, and a few benches scattered around.

Matt led me to one of the benches and sat down, gesturing for me to do the same. The park was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and the occasional hum of voices from joggers passing by. We wandered without much of a destination, falling into step beside each other. We sat in the quiet of the park, the air crisp but not unbearable. The pond ahead shimmered faintly under the faint glow of streetlights, and I tried to focus on the scene instead of the way Matt’s knee kept brushing mine every time he shifted.

“I still can’t believe you actually flew across the country,” he said after a moment, his voice carrying a note of disbelief.

“Well,” I said lightly, “I figured I owed it to you after months of dodging FaceTimes when my hair looked bad.”

He smirked. “First of all, your hair’s never looked bad. Second, you don’t owe me anything. If anything, I’m the one who owes you for putting up with my nonsense.”

I tilted my head. “You really think I’d fly out here for someone who didn’t matter to me?”

That shut him up for a second, his gaze flicking toward me like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right.

“You make it sound simple,” he said eventually, his voice quieter.

“It is,” I said with a shrug, kicking at a stray leaf near my foot. “You’re complicated, yeah, but you’re worth it. And for the record, Matt? You’ve never been nonsense to me.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. His hand brushed mine, and I froze, half expecting him to pull away. Instead, his fingers lightly hooked around mine, hesitant but steady.

“You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” he murmured, so softly I barely heard him.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, though my voice was shakier than I wanted it to be.

He chuckled at that, the sound warming the chilly night air. “Okay, San Diego. Here’s something. I really didn’t think this whole…thing would go past texting. And then I met you, and you’ve got this way of making everything feel…different. Better.”

I turned to face him fully, his words catching me off guard in a way nothing else ever had. He looked back at me, his blue eyes bright even in the low light.

“I don’t think you know just how much you’ve changed things for me,” he said, his voice so steady it made my chest tighten.

I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I squeezed his hand lightly, the weight of his words settling in the best way possible.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard the faint click of a camera shutter, and I stiffened instinctively.

“What?” Matt asked, immediately alert.

I nodded toward the direction of the sound, keeping my voice low. “I think someone’s taking pictures.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he turned, scanning the area until his gaze landed on a figure standing farther back, half-hidden behind a tree.

“Let’s go,” he said softly but firmly, rising from the bench and tugging me gently with him.

We walked quickly but not so fast it would draw attention, his hand never leaving mine as he led me back toward the park’s edge where the car was waiting. Once we were inside and the driver pulled away, I finally let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Does that happen a lot?”

“More than I’d like,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “It’s why I don’t usually…do things like this. But I’m not going to let it ruin tonight.”

I looked at him, seeing the resolve in his expression, and felt the knot in my stomach loosen just a bit.

“You’re pretty good at this whole crisis management thing,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirked. “Part of the job. But also, I kind of have someone worth protecting now.”

I rolled my eyes, though the warmth spreading through my chest betrayed me. “Let’s just hope they got my good side.”

Matt laughed at that, the sound melting the lingering tension.

“Your good side?” he repeated, teasing. “San Diego, every side of you is good.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that broke across my face, even as I rolled my eyes again. Maybe the night wasn’t going exactly as planned, but sitting here next to Matt, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I swung gently on the stool at Matt’s kitchen island, my feet just barely brushing the floor. The airy, modern kitchen was quiet except for the sound of Matt rummaging around in his freezer.

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” he called over his shoulder.

I laughed. “You already fed me enough for three people. Ice cream is about all I can handle right now.”

He straightened, holding up a pint of cookie dough ice cream in one hand and rocky road in the other. “Your choice, San Diego.”

I tilted my head, pretending to deliberate. “Tough call, but cookie dough wins. Obviously.”

He chuckled and tossed the rocky road back into the freezer, grabbing two spoons before joining me at the island. He slid the pint across the counter toward me and handed me a spoon.

“Do you always keep multiple flavors on standby?” I asked, scooping out a bite.

“You never know what kind of mood you’ll be in,” he replied, sitting across from me and digging in. “It’s a strategic choice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Manhattan. You’re just that thoughtful.”

He smirked but didn’t argue, instead taking another bite of ice cream.

For a few moments, we just sat there, the quiet hum of the city beyond the windows filling the space. It felt easy—like this wasn’t the first time we’d sat together like this, sharing something as simple as a pint of ice cream.

“So,” he said after a while, breaking the silence, “how does it feel being back in New York?”

I paused, considering the question. “Honestly? Kind of surreal. It’s weird seeing the city again after everything…but I guess it’s good weird. Like coming full circle.”

“Full circle, huh?” he echoed, watching me thoughtfully. “That’s one way to put it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You have a different way?”

He leaned back slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I’d call it something else.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged, but his eyes held mine, warm and steady. “Like the beginning of something.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly glanced down at the ice cream, focusing on the pint as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Big words for a guy who just won’t admit this is a date,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

But Matt heard me, his laugh low and teasing. “Who said I wouldn’t admit it?”

I looked up sharply, narrowing my eyes. “Oh, so this is a date?”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “What do you think?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, I felt a flush creeping up my neck. I glanced away, shaking my head.

“Smooth, Manhattan,” I muttered, earning another laugh from him.

“You’re the one who brought it up,” he teased, and I groaned, throwing a napkin at him.

“Just eat your ice cream.” He was still grinning when he took another bite, and I couldn’t help but smile too.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The soft morning light filtered through the guest room blinds, pulling me from a restless sleep. I rubbed my eyes, still half-dreaming as I sat up and glanced around the unfamiliar but undeniably nice room. Matt’s house. Right. I stretched and shuffled out of bed, padding down the hallway in my socks. The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge as I wandered into the kitchen.

“Matt?” I called, my voice still hoarse from sleep. No answer.

I glanced around, expecting him to pop up from behind a corner or maybe appear on his phone in the living room, but he was nowhere to be found. The place was spotless, with no sign of breakfast or any activity that morning. Frowning, I grabbed my phone from the counter and sent him a quick text.

Friday, September 30, 2024 Today, 8:31am

ME: Where are you? Your house is way too quiet.

I leaned against the counter, waiting for a reply. It didn’t take long before my phone buzzed in my hand.

MATT: Gym. Didn’t want to wake you.

I smiled faintly, imagining him out lifting weights or running drills like the overachiever he was.

ME: Very considerate of you. Also rude. I’m lost in this cavern of a house. MATT: Cavern? Dramatic much? The coffee’s already made. Cupboard to the right of the sink.

I glanced at the cupboard he mentioned and, sure enough, found mugs neatly arranged inside.

ME: Oh, so you think coffee’s going to solve all my problems? MATT: It solves 95% of mine. The other 5% is you.

I froze, staring at his text, the warmth rising to my cheeks unbidden. I quickly shook it off, focusing on pouring myself a cup of coffee instead.

ME: You’re insufferable. MATT: You’re smiling.

Okay, he wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t about to admit that. I set my phone down and leaned on the counter, sipping my coffee and trying not to imagine Matt at the gym, sweaty and smug.

Before I could think too much about it, another text popped up.

MATT: I’ll be back soon. Don’t burn my house down. ME: No promises.

Smiling to myself, I wandered back toward the guest room, coffee in hand. Even in the quiet, empty house, I couldn’t shake the sense of ease I felt being here. It was a strange kind of comfort—like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Matt walked into the house just as I was sprawled across the guest room bed, deeply invested in an episode of Total Drama Island. The drama on the screen was hitting its peak, and I was yelling at the TV like my opinions could somehow change the outcome. The sound of the front door opening barely registered. It wasn’t until I heard footsteps coming down the hall that I glanced up. Matt appeared in the doorway, his hair damp from a shower and curling slightly at the ends. His face was still a little flushed, either from his workout or the heat of the water, and a towel hung loosely over his shoulder. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and gray sweatpants that looked so comfortable I almost envied them.

“Total Drama Island?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in amusement as he leaned against the doorframe. “Really, San Diego?”

“Don’t knock it,” I said, sitting up slightly but not bothering to mute the show. “This is peak television. You’re just not sophisticated enough to understand.”

He laughed, the sound easy and warm. “You’re watching cartoon characters backstab each other on an island, and you’re calling me unsophisticated?”

“Exactly,” I shot back, grinning. “At least one of us has taste.”

He shook his head, stepping further into the room and crossing his arms. “I don’t even know what to do with you sometimes.”

“Admit I’m right?” I offered, taking a sip of my coffee from earlier, now lukewarm.

“Not gonna happen,” he said, smirking. His eyes flicked to the TV for a moment. “Wait, isn’t this the episode where—”

“Don’t spoil it!” I interrupted, sitting up fully now. “I don’t need your running commentary, Manhattan. Go find something else to do if you’re going to disrespect the art.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “But I need to know—are you staying here all day, or are we doing something that doesn’t involve animated drama?”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider. “Depends. What’s your offer?”

He grinned, slinging the towel off his shoulder and tossing it toward the doorway. “I was thinking breakfast, but now I’m reconsidering. Maybe I should just leave you here to marinate in your terrible opinions.”

“Your loss,” I teased, gesturing to the TV. “This is gold.”

“You’re impossible,” he said, shaking his head again, though the smile on his face betrayed his amusement.

“And yet, here you are,” I said, smirking.

He didn’t respond, just gave me a long look before turning toward the door. “Be ready in fifteen,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m not letting you skip out on eating.”

“Fifteen minutes?” I called after him. “What is this, boot camp?”

“You’ll survive,” he said, disappearing down the hall.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. As much as I wanted to keep watching Total Drama Island, I wasn’t about to pass up whatever Matt had planned—especially if it involved breakfast.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Fifteen minutes later, I had pulled myself together—well, mostly. I threw on a pair of denim shorts, a loose t-shirt, and my sneakers, still feeling half-asleep but ready to take on whatever Matt had planned. When I walked into the kitchen, he was already waiting, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He looked entirely too awake for someone who had just come back from the gym. His hair had dried a little more, sticking up in a few places, but it only added to his annoyingly effortless charm.

“You clean up nice,” he teased, eyeing my outfit as he sipped his coffee.

“Don’t push it, Manhattan,” I shot back, grabbing my own mug from earlier and grimacing when I realized it was still lukewarm.

“Ready?” he asked, ignoring my glare as he set his coffee down.

“Where are we even going?” I asked, following him as he grabbed his keys and headed toward the door.

“Trust me,” he said, smirking over his shoulder.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” I muttered, but I followed him out to the car anyway.

He drove us to a little diner tucked away in a quiet part of town, the kind of place you wouldn’t find unless you were looking for it. The parking lot was half-full, and the smell of bacon and syrup hit me the moment we stepped inside.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” I said as we slid into a booth near the back.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replied, picking up a menu.

“Clearly,” I said, pretending to study the menu even though I already knew I was getting pancakes.

The waitress came by, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile, and took our orders. Matt got a massive breakfast platter—eggs, bacon, toast, the works—and I stuck to my pancakes and coffee.

“So,” he said once she’d left, leaning back against the booth and looking at me with that easy grin. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the local, Manhattan.”

He chuckled, setting his coffee down. “Yeah, but this is technically your trip. I figured I’d let you call the shots.”

I thought about it for a moment, swirling the last of the syrup on my plate with a piece of pancake. “I want to do more touristy stuff. You know, the stuff people make fun of but secretly love.”

“Touristy stuff?” he repeated, feigning dismay. “You do know New York’s more than Times Square, right?”

“Yes, Matt,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I don’t need to take selfies with Elmo, thanks. But like, the real iconic stuff—Central Park, Rockefeller Center. Maybe the Met?”

“The Met, huh? You wanna get all cultured?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” he said, smirking. “I’ll just make sure to bring my monocle.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “But seriously, if we’re doing more city stuff, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And what’s that?”

“You’re not wearing that ridiculous hat-sunglasses-hoodie combo again,” I said firmly, pointing my fork at him for emphasis. “You looked like you were auditioning for an undercover spy movie.”

He laughed, loud and unrestrained, drawing a glance from the couple at the next table. “In my defense, I didn’t hear you complaining when it worked.”

“It didn’t work,” I shot back. “We were spotted in, like, two seconds.”

“Fine,” he conceded, holding up his hands. “I’ll leave the disguise at home. But if we get mobbed, you’re dealing with it.”

“Deal,” I said, smirking as I pushed my plate aside.

The waitress came by to collect our dishes, and Matt paid the check despite my half-hearted protests.

“Alright, San Diego,” he said as we walked back to the car. “You’ve got yourself a tour guide. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when your feet are killing you by the end of the day.”

I shot him a sidelong glance. “Oh, please. You’re the one who’ll be begging to sit down first.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

He grinned, unlocking the car. “You’re on.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I stood in front of an enormous painting, tilting my head slightly as I tried to make sense of it. A blend of colors swept across the canvas in bold, jagged strokes. Abstract. Chaotic. Beautiful. Matt, however, was slouched on the bench a few feet behind me, arms crossed and a clear look of boredom plastered across his face.

“Okay,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet reverence of the museum. “Explain it to me again. Why are we pretending that smear of paint means anything?”

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “It’s art, Manhattan. It’s not supposed to ‘mean’ anything. You’re supposed to feel something when you look at it.”

“Well, I’m definitely feeling something,” he muttered, shifting on the bench. “It’s mostly confusion and regret for not steering us toward pizza instead.”

I rolled my eyes, walking over to him. “You’re such a baby. It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” he echoed, gesturing around us. “We’ve been here for two hours. My legs are about to give out, my brain’s fried from trying to pretend I know what I’m looking at, and I’m pretty sure I just walked past a sculpture of a…melted clock? What is that?”

I stifled a laugh, crossing my arms. “That’s Salvador Dalí. It’s surrealism. It’s supposed to look like that.”

“Surrealism,” he repeated, deadpan. “Right. Totally makes sense.”

Shaking my head, I sat beside him on the bench, watching as he leaned his head back and let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re impossible,” I said, smiling despite myself.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “And yet, here you are, willingly subjecting me to this torture.”

“You’re the one who said you’d be my tour guide,” I shot back. “If you’re gonna complain this much, we can just leave.”

“Oh no,” he said quickly, sitting up straight. “We’re staying. You’re clearly having the time of your life, and I’m not about to ruin your cultural awakening or whatever.”

“Cultural awakening?” I repeated, laughing. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“Me? Dramatic?” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Never.”

I shook my head, standing up and holding a hand out to him. “Come on. One more gallery, and then I’ll let you pick the next stop.”

He hesitated for a second before taking my hand, his grip warm and steady. “You mean it? Like, actually my pick?”

“Sure,” I said, pulling him to his feet. “But if you say pizza, I’m making you try pineapple on it.”

His face twisted in mock horror as he followed me toward the next room. “You really are trying to ruin me, aren’t you?”

I laughed, glancing back at him. “Maybe a little.”

Despite his complaints, I caught the faintest smile on his face as he trailed behind me, like he didn’t mind the torture all that much. After another half hour of wandering through yet another wing filled with priceless paintings and sculptures, Matt looked like he was on the verge of staging a dramatic collapse. He leaned heavily against a column in the middle of the room, shooting me a long-suffering look.

“Okay, San Diego, I can’t feel my legs anymore,” he declared. “Are you seriously not done yet?”

I suppressed a grin, scanning the room before glancing back at him. “Fine. I’m done. For now.”

His face lit up with mock relief, and he straightened, stretching his arms over his head. “Thank God. You’re a menace to my sanity.”

“Oh, stop. You survived,” I teased, linking my arm through his and steering him toward the exit. “Now it’s your turn. What’s next on our big New York adventure?”

Matt paused, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought. “Well, I was thinking…maybe some pizza. Without pineapple,” he added quickly, shooting me a warning look.

I rolled my eyes. “I feel like you’re avoiding giving me a real answer.”

“Fine,” he said, smirking. “How about this: I’ll surprise you.”

“A surprise?” I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Should I be worried?”

“Definitely,” he replied, his tone completely serious.

By the time we stepped outside, the afternoon sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting the city in a warm, golden glow. Matt flagged down a cab with ease, holding the door open for me before sliding in after. As the cab pulled away from the curb, I turned to him. “Are you gonna at least give me a hint?”

He shook his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Nope.”

“Not even a little one?”

“Not even a little one,” he repeated, leaning back in his seat with a smug grin.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. Whatever he was planning, I had a feeling it was going to be worth the wait.About twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a small, tucked-away ice cream parlor with a hand-painted sign that read Eddie’s Sweet Spot. It was the kind of place that looked like it had been around for decades, its charm untouched by the fast pace of the city around it.

“Ice cream?” I asked, glancing at him as we stepped out of the cab.

“You’ve had a long day of culture and sophistication,” he said, holding the door open for me. “Figured you could use a reward.”

I stepped inside, instantly hit with the sweet smell of waffle cones and sugar. The place was cozy and inviting, with pastel-colored walls and old-fashioned booths.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” I teased, nudging him lightly.

“What can I say? I’m a man of refined taste,” he shot back, already scanning the menu.

After some playful debate over flavors—Matt insisted on trying to convince me that plain vanilla was underrated—we finally made our choices and grabbed a booth near the window.

As I dug into my cone, I couldn’t help but notice the way Matt’s expression softened as he watched me, like he was quietly taking in the moment.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Just…you look happy. It’s nice.”

I felt my cheeks warm under his gaze, and I quickly looked down at my ice cream, trying to fight the grin threatening to take over my face.

“Don’t get used to it,” I said lightly, though my voice betrayed the flutter of my heart.

He laughed, leaning back in the booth. “Too late.”

For the first time since arriving in New York, I felt completely at ease, the city’s chaos fading into the background as we sat there, sharing stolen moments and sugary sweetness.

After finishing our ice cream, we stepped back out onto the street, the evening air cooler now as dusk started to settle over the city. I tossed my napkin into a nearby trash can and turned to Matt, who was casually leaning against the brick wall of the parlor, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“What now?” I asked, glancing up and down the street.

“Well,” he said, pushing off the wall, “I was gonna take you to see the skyline, but I think we’d both just fall asleep on the way there.”

I laughed. “Wow, way to sell your romantic plans, Manhattan.”

“I’m nothing if not honest,” he replied, grinning. “But seriously, what do you want to do? We could head back, or…” He trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

I thought for a moment, glancing around at the glowing streetlights and the soft hum of the city that never really quieted. “What about a walk? Just around here. No plans, no cabs, just…see where we end up?”

Matt raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Alright, San Diego. Lead the way.”

We started down the block, the rhythm of the city around us blending with our footsteps. For once, it felt like the pace of New York wasn’t racing ahead of me, like I could actually breathe it in and let it settle.

As we walked, Matt kept pointing out little details I would’ve missed—a quirky graffiti mural on a side street, a bakery that smelled so good I almost made us detour, the way the Empire State Building lit up faintly in the distance.

“So,” he said after a while, his tone light but curious, “what do you think of New York so far?”

“I think it’s overwhelming and loud and chaotic,” I admitted. “But it’s also…beautiful. In a weird way.”

He smirked. “Weirdly beautiful. I’ll take that.”

We crossed a small park, the trees lit by string lights that swayed gently in the breeze. The atmosphere felt quieter here, almost intimate.

“What about you?” I asked, glancing at him. “Do you like living here?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. I mean, it’s great for what I do, obviously. But I think I miss having space. You know, being able to drive five minutes and end up somewhere quiet.”

“Like the beach?” I teased.

“Exactly,” he said with a grin. “Although, I don’t think I’d survive long in California. I’m not laid-back enough for it.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t trade the chaos of Manhattan for sunny skies and year-round flip-flop weather?”

He laughed. “Not a chance. I’d miss the energy here. And the pizza.”

“Ah, so it’s about the food,” I said, shaking my head.

“Always,” he replied, grinning.

We walked in silence for a few moments, the quiet comfortable between us. Eventually, we found ourselves back near where we started, the streetlights glowing a little brighter now as night fully settled in.

“I guess we’ve officially wandered in a big circle,” I said, glancing around.

“Efficient,” he quipped.

I smiled, turning to face him. “Thanks for tonight. I know it wasn’t the fanciest or anything, but…I had fun.”

“Fun’s underrated,” he said, his voice softer now. “And you’re welcome.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the buzz of the city around us fading into the background. His eyes met mine, and there was something in his gaze that made my breath hitch, something quiet and steady that felt like gravity pulling me in.

“Alright,” he said, breaking the moment with a small smile. “Let’s get you home before you fall asleep standing up.”

I laughed, shaking off the nerves that had crept in. “You’re probably right. Lead the way, Manhattan.”

As we walked back toward his car, I couldn’t help but glance over at him, wondering if he felt it too—this quiet shift, this sense that we were standing at the edge of something neither of us could quite name yet.

When we got back to Matt’s place, I kicked off my shoes in the entryway, sighing as I stretched my arms over my head. “That walk was exactly what I needed,” I said, glancing over at him. “Thanks for being my tour guide.”

Matt smirked, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it onto the back of the couch. “Don’t thank me yet. My tours usually come with a fee.”

“Oh, do they?” I teased, arching a brow. “What’s the charge?”

“Undecided,” he said with a wink, heading toward the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and followed him, leaning against the counter as he opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “So,” I started, trying to sound casual, “what’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”

He paused for a second, like he was debating how to answer. “Well,” he said slowly, twisting the cap off the bottle, “I’ve got a game.”

I blinked. “Wait, a game? Like, an actual hockey game?”

“That is what I do for a living, San Diego,” he said, his grin widening.

“I know that!” I said, throwing my hands up. “But I didn’t think—I mean, you didn’t say anything about it before.”

“I didn’t think it’d matter,” he said, leaning back against the counter. “I figured you wouldn’t want to spend your time here sitting in a freezing cold arena.”

I stared at him. “Matt, are you kidding me? Of course I want to see you play! I’ve never been to an NHL game before!”

His expression softened, and he tilted his head slightly. “You sure? It’s not exactly…touristy.”

“Please,” I said, crossing my arms. “I sat through a three-hour art exhibit with you. I think I can handle a couple hours of hockey.”

“Fair point,” he said, laughing. “Alright, then. I’ll get you a ticket.”

“Oh no,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not sitting in the nosebleeds. I want the good seats. Right on the glass.”

“Demanding,” he said with a smirk.

“I’m serious!” I shot back, grinning.

“Relax, San Diego,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ve got you covered. Just don’t start banging on the glass and making a scene, alright?”

“No promises,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, brushing it off. But inside, I couldn’t stop smiling. The thought of seeing him out there on the ice, doing what he loved, sent a weird mix of excitement and nerves buzzing through me.

“So,” I said, leaning back against the counter. “What time’s the game?”

“Puck drops at seven,” he said. “We’ll have to leave around five-thirty.”

I nodded, already mentally planning what I’d wear.

“You’re really excited about this, huh?” he said, watching me with an amused expression.

“Obviously,” I replied. “This is a big deal, Matt. You’re a big deal.”

His ears turned a little red, and he looked down at the water bottle in his hand. “It’s just a game,” he said, shrugging.

“Sure it is,” I said, smiling knowingly. He shook his head, clearly trying to downplay it, but I could tell he was secretly pleased.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The morning light filtered through the blinds in Matt’s guest room, but I’d been up for a while, unable to shake the excitement for the game later. I’d only brought my usual clothes with me, but it felt wrong not to wear something that supported his team. And I knew Matt had to have Rangers gear somewhere. So, naturally, I decided to snoop. I tiptoed into his room, figuring I could quietly dig through his closet without waking him. He was sprawled out on his bed, the sheets half kicked off and his hair a mess, still dead to the world. For a professional athlete, he sure looked ridiculously peaceful—like a golden retriever napping in the sun.

I opened the closet as silently as I could and started rifling through the hanging clothes. Jackets, button-ups, plain T-shirts—where was the good stuff? I found a Rangers hoodie shoved toward the back and pulled it down, but then I saw a plain navy shirt with the team’s logo on the front. Perfect. I reached for it—and knocked a hanger off the rack. It hit the floor with a loud clatter, and I froze.

“San Diego,” came a groggy voice from the bed.

I slowly turned around to see Matt, propped up on one elbow, squinting at me through half-open eyes. His hair stuck up in every direction, and he looked like he’d just woken from a two-week coma.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“I, uh…” I held up the Rangers shirt like it was evidence at a trial. “I needed something to wear for the game.”

He blinked, then flopped back onto the pillows with a groan. “You woke me up for that?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up!” I protested, clutching the shirt defensively. “I was being quiet!”

“You’re rummaging through my closet like a raccoon in a dumpster,” he muttered, rubbing his face with one hand. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine,” I said, glancing at my phone.

He groaned again. “Too early.”

“Too early? You’re an athlete. Aren’t you supposed to be a morning person?”

“I’m an athlete on my day off,” he grumbled, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow. “Just take the shirt and leave me alone.”

I hesitated, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “Sorry,” I said, unable to hide my grin. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, well,” he mumbled, voice muffled, “too late now.”

I laughed and gave him a light shove on the shoulder. “Fine, go back to sleep, grumpy.”

He peeked at me from under his arm, his lips twitching like he was trying not to smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, San Diego.”

I felt my face heat up but quickly stood and backed toward the door, holding up the shirt like a trophy. “I’m borrowing this, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

I was scrolling aimlessly on my phone, curled up on Matt’s couch in my pyjamas, when I heard the soft creak of a door opening. Glancing up, I froze. Matt shuffled out of his room, half-asleep, with a blanket draped over his shoulders like some kind of makeshift cape. His hair was sticking up in every possible direction, and he was shirtless—completely shirtless—wearing only a pair of black boxers.

My face instantly felt like it was on fire, and I quickly looked back down at my phone, though I wasn’t actually reading anything. Why does he look like that?

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice low and rough, still thick with sleep.

“Uh, morning,” I managed, trying to sound normal. My eyes flickered up for just a second, but that was a mistake. His chest—broad and unfairly toned—was right there. And his boxers sat low on his hips, the blanket doing a terrible job of covering anything. I ducked my head again, praying he didn’t notice how flustered I was.

He yawned as he approached, then flopped down right beside me on the couch. The blanket shifted as he sprawled out, and I had to fight the urge to bolt to the other side of the room.

“Can’t get back to sleep,” he grumbled, his voice muffled as he buried his face into the crook of his arm.

“Oh,” I said, barely above a whisper, gripping my phone tightly like it might somehow ground me. “That’s…uh, that’s too bad.”

“Mm,” he hummed, eyes closed as he adjusted the blanket. “This couch is more comfortable than my bed right now.”

I glanced at him, only to find his face half-pressed into the cushion. The sight of him all wrapped up in the blanket, looking so soft and vulnerable, did something strange to my chest. My heart tugged before I could stop it.

Without really thinking, I hesitated, then reached out and ran my fingers through his hair gently. It was still messy and slightly damp from his shower before bed, but soft under my touch.

He didn’t say anything. He just let out a small sigh, the tension in his shoulders melting away.

“Better?” I asked softly, my fingers still weaving through his hair.

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled, barely coherent. Within moments, I felt his breathing even out, his head now resting on the arm of the couch, and I realized he’d fallen asleep.

I glanced down at him, his face so peaceful and calm, and couldn’t help but smile. My heart was still racing, but I didn’t dare move. For now, I just stayed there, my hand gently tangled in his hair, trying to figure out how this had somehow become my morning. I stayed there, my hand resting in Matt’s hair, listening to the quiet rise and fall of his breathing. The apartment was still, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. My phone sat forgotten on the couch next to me.

It felt strangely intimate, sitting like this, watching him sleep. His face was so soft, so different from the confident, slightly cocky Matt I was used to seeing. Here, he just looked…human. I thought back to the last few days—the whirlwind of being in New York, the strange tension between us, and how everything seemed to feel more real the longer I stayed here. It wasn’t like our usual dynamic over texts and FaceTime. Being here, seeing him like this, was something I hadn’t fully prepared for. He shifted slightly, turning his head so that his cheek pressed against the couch cushion, his hair falling over his forehead. The blanket slipped off his shoulder, and my eyes betrayed me again, darting to the curve of his collarbone and the strong lines of his chest. God, this is unfair. I tried to focus on something—anything—else, glancing out the window at the sunny New York morning. A couple of hours ago, I was sitting here trying to figure out what I’d wear to the game, and now I was stuck in a moment I wasn’t sure how to handle.

Matt stirred again, groaning softly as his arm draped over his eyes. “What time is it?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

I glanced at my phone. “Almost ten.”

“Too early,” he muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, his voice muffled.

“You literally have a hockey game today,” I teased, trying to sound more casual than I felt.

He groaned louder this time, shifting just enough to peek at me from under his arm. His hazel eyes, still heavy with sleep, met mine, and I felt my breath catch.

“You’re too awake for this early,” he said, his voice low and raspy, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

I rolled my eyes, determined to play it cool. “I don’t think ten a.m. counts as early. What time do you usually wake up?”

“Depends,” he said, turning to face me fully now, propping his head up on his hand. “On game days, usually earlier. Guess I needed extra sleep today.” His eyes flicked to my hand, which was still resting near his head.

I pulled it back quickly, feeling heat creep up my neck. “Sorry,” I said, looking away.

“Don’t be,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It felt nice.”

I blinked, unsure of what to say, and instead busied myself by grabbing my phone. “You, uh, want breakfast or something? I can make—”

“You cook now?” he interrupted, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

I narrowed my eyes. “I’ll have you know I’m very capable in the kitchen.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” I shot back. “But fine, you can fend for yourself. Hope you like cold cereal.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “You’re in charge of breakfast, then. Surprise me.”

I stood up, trying to shake off the fluttery feeling in my chest. “Okay, but don’t complain if it’s burnt.”

As I moved toward the kitchen, I heard him chuckle again. “I’ll take my chances, San Diego.”

And just like that, the morning shifted, the weight of the moment easing into something lighter, something that felt more like us. But as I pulled ingredients from the fridge, I couldn’t help but feel like something between us had changed.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I stood in front of the mirror in Matt’s guest room, adjusting the Rangers hoodie I’d borrowed from his closet again. The oversized fit practically swallowed me whole, but it was ridiculously soft, and the bold "73" on the back made my stomach do an unexpected flip. His number. It felt oddly personal to wear something so tied to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to take it off.

Grabbing my phone, I headed into the living room. “Matt, we really need to go!” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady.

The sound of his bedroom door creaking open made me turn. He stepped out, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, dressed head-to-toe in his Rangers tracksuit. His hair was still damp from his shower, the light catching on it in a way that made me stare just a second too long.

But it was his expression that caught me off guard. He froze mid-step, his eyes landing squarely on the hoodie I was wearing.

“You’re wearing that?” he asked, a grin breaking across his face. His cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink as he looked at me, his usual confidence faltering for a moment.

“Well, yeah,” I said, feigning nonchalance as I tugged at the sleeves. “It’s the only Rangers gear I could find in your closet, and I figured I’d look the part.”

He let out a soft laugh, his smile growing wider. “San Diego, you’ve never looked better.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the heat rising to my face. “Oh, shut up, Manhattan.”

“No, seriously,” he said, stepping closer, his grin taking on a slightly shy edge. “You’re rocking it. I mean…wow. That’s my number.”

“I’m aware,” I teased, pointing at the bold "73" on the back. “Unless you’ve been hiding some secret identity as number 12 or something.”

He laughed, a real, warm sound that made my heart skip. “Nope, just 73. And, uh…you look amazing. Like, really amazing.”

“Okay, stop,” I said, though I couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re embarrassing me.”

He smirked, his usual playfulness returning. “Get used to it. You’re gonna get a lot of attention wearing that at MSG.”

“Speaking of,” I said, grabbing my bag, “shouldn’t we get going?”

“Right,” he said, shaking himself slightly. “Let’s do this.”

We headed down to the car, and the drive to Madison Square Garden was filled with the usual banter that always managed to ease my nerves.

When we arrived, the chaos I’d expected was nowhere to be seen. Instead of the bustling crowds I’d imagined, Matt pulled into a private parking area and led me toward a discreet side entrance.

“We’re going through the player entry?” I asked, glancing around at the quiet corridor.

“Yeah,” he said, holding the door open for me. “The game isn’t for hours, so it’s pretty quiet. Plus, it’s easier this way—less chance of someone recognizing me and blowing up our whole day.”

“Ah, yes,” I said, nodding sagely. “Can’t have anyone figuring out that number 73 brought his friend to work today.”

“Friend, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at me.

“Don’t start,” I warned, though I couldn’t help but grin.

He chuckled, leading me further into the maze of hallways. As we walked, he glanced over at me again, his eyes lingering on the hoodie.

“Seriously,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You in that—it’s…yeah. I like it.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just nudged him with my elbow, hoping my flustered expression wasn’t too obvious.

We eventually reached a lounge area where a few other players were scattered, some stretching or scrolling on their phones. Matt waved to a couple of them, but he didn’t stop, his focus staying on me as he led me to a quieter corner.

“Okay,” he said, dropping his duffle bag onto a chair. “You’re officially here. How’s it feel?”

“Honestly?” I said, looking around. “Kind of surreal. And also like I’m about to get kicked out for being in a restricted area.”

Matt laughed, shaking his head. “You’re with me. No one’s kicking you out.”

“Good to know,” I said, settling into a seat. “But, uh, do I just…hang out here?”

“For now, yeah,” he said, sitting down next to me. “You’re good, San Diego. Just relax. And maybe save some of that sass for later—I’ll need it after the game.”

I smiled, feeling a little more at ease. Being here, in his world, felt like stepping into something new and unpredictable—but with him by my side, it didn’t feel so scary.

We were sitting in the lounge when I noticed a group of guys heading our way. They looked like they were part of Matt’s team—tall, athletic, the kind of guys who carried themselves with that unmistakable swagger. I could feel their eyes on us, and I shifted slightly in my seat, glancing at Matt for reassurance.

He didn’t notice. He was leaning back, scrolling through his phone, entirely oblivious to the approaching ambush.

“Yo, Rempe!” one of them called, his voice carrying easily across the room.

Matt’s head snapped up, and the relaxed grin on his face froze when he realized they were headed straight for us.

“Who’s your little friend?” another guy asked, smirking as they all came to a stop in front of us.

Matt looked like he’d just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He fumbled for words, his usually smooth demeanor completely thrown off.

“Uh…guys, this is, um…” He glanced at me, clearly flustered. “This is Y/N.”

I gave them a small wave, my cheeks burning.

One of the guys raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Matt’s awkwardness. “Y/N, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m Will.” He stuck out a hand, which I shook, trying not to shrink under the sudden attention.

“She your—” Will started to ask, but another guy cut him off.

“She’s rocking your number, man,” he said, gesturing at the hoodie I was wearing. “That’s serious business.”

“It’s just a hoodie,” Matt said quickly, his voice a little higher than usual.

The guys burst into laughter, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

“You are so bad at this,” one of them said, shaking his head.

“Shut up, K’Andre,” Matt muttered, his face turning red.

Before I could say anything, a couple of women joined the group, their curious gazes flicking between me and Matt.

“Oh, hey,” one of them said, smiling warmly at me. “I’m Emily. You must be Matt’s…” She trailed off, waiting for clarification.

“Friend,” I said quickly, cutting off the speculation.

“Yeah,” Matt added, nodding a little too vigorously. “Friend. She’s my friend.”

Emily raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she reached out to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Don’t mind these guys—they’re incapable of acting normal.”

“Hey!” one of the guys protested, but she ignored him.

Another woman, who introduced herself as Sarah, stepped forward with a kind smile. “It’s nice to see Matt bring someone around. He doesn’t usually, you know, socialize outside of hockey.”

“Yeah, Rempe’s basically a hermit,” Will chimed in. “This is big news.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Matt said, standing up and glaring at them. “Leave her alone.”

“We’re just saying hi,” K’Andre said, grinning. “No need to get all defensive.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. “It’s fine, really. I appreciate the warm welcome.”

Emily and Sarah exchanged a glance before Sarah said, “Well, if you need a break from all the testosterone, come find us. We’ll be around.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling at them as they walked off, pulling their significant others with them.

Once they were gone, Matt let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”

“Why are you apologizing?” I asked, still laughing a little. “They’re nice.”

“Yeah, but they’re also…a lot,” he said, sinking back into his seat.

“I can handle it,” I assured him, grinning. “Though you really need to work on your introductions. That was painful.”

He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “I know. I panicked. They just…they don’t usually see me with anyone outside of hockey. And then you’re here, and it’s you, and…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

I reached over and patted his arm, trying not to smile too much. “Relax, Manhattan. I survived.”

He looked up at me, his expression softening. “Yeah, well, thanks for not running for the hills.”

“Not yet, anyway,” I teased, earning a small, grateful smile from him.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Warmups were already in full swing by the time I found myself standing near the edge of the rink with a small group of women who had introduced themselves earlier. Emily and Sarah were among them, and they’d been nothing but welcoming since I’d arrived.

The sound of skates cutting across the ice filled the air as the Rangers warmed up, their movements fluid and practiced. I spotted Matt almost immediately, his tall frame unmistakable as he glided across the ice, taking practice shots at the net. He looked completely in his element, his usual awkwardness replaced with confidence and ease.

“So,” Emily said, nudging me slightly with her elbow. “What’s it like being the new mystery girl?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Mystery girl?”

Sarah laughed. “You’ve been here less than a day, and you’re already a hot topic. Matt never brings anyone around, so naturally, everyone’s curious.”

I glanced at the ice, watching Matt shoot a puck that hit the top corner of the net with a sharp clang. “It’s not really like that,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up. “We’re just friends.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Friends who wear his number and make him blush like a teenager?”

“I—” I started, but Sarah cut in, smiling.

“Don’t let her tease you,” she said. “But seriously, he looks happy. Like, ridiculously happy. It’s nice to see.”

I looked back at the ice, my gaze landing on Matt again. He skated over to grab another puck, his movements quick and precise. “He’s been really great to me,” I admitted softly.

“Have you been to a lot of games?” Emily asked, changing the subject slightly.

I shook my head. “This is my first. I’m still figuring out what icing means.”

Both Emily and Sarah laughed at that. “Don’t worry,” Sarah said. “Half of us didn’t know anything about hockey before we got dragged into this world. You pick it up fast.”

As we chatted, I noticed a few of the players skating by and glancing our way. One of them—Will, if I remembered correctly—waved, and I waved back awkwardly.

“He’s definitely trying to figure out what’s going on with you and Matt,” Emily said with a grin.

“Let him wonder,” I said, smirking a little.

“You fit in well here,” Sarah said suddenly, her tone warm.

I looked at her, surprised. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” she said, nodding. “It’s not always easy being part of this world, but you’re doing great.”

I smiled, grateful for her kindness. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Emily leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “But seriously, if you ever need advice or just someone to talk to about all this, we’ve got your back.”

“Deal,” I said, feeling a little more at ease.

Just then, Matt skated by, his eyes flicking over to where we stood. He did a double take when he saw me talking with Emily and Sarah, his expression a mix of surprise and what looked like mild panic.

“He’s looking at you,” Sarah said, smirking.

“Not just looking,” Emily added. “He’s practically staring.”

I shook my head, laughing. “He’s probably wondering what I’m telling you about him.”

“Well, now we have to mess with him,” Sarah said, grinning wickedly.

“Absolutely,” Emily agreed.

I rolled my eyes playfully, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips as I caught Matt sneaking another glance my way. Whatever this was, it felt good—like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

As warmups wound down, the players slowly began trickling off the ice and heading back to the locker rooms. Emily and Sarah turned back to me, their smiles still warm and welcoming.

“So, are you sitting in the WAG suite tonight?” Sarah asked, crossing her arms as the cool air from the rink nipped at us.

“The WAG suite?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Emily laughed. “Yeah, it’s this private room they have reserved during games. You get a great view, snacks, drinks, and, most importantly, no chance of freezing your butt off in the stands.”

“That sounds… amazing,” I admitted, but then added, “But, honestly, I think I’d rather sit in the regular seats. You know, get the full experience.”

Emily tilted her head at me, amused. “The full experience? You mean sitting in the crowd, potentially surrounded by beer-chugging superfans and cold enough to wish you’d worn a parka?”

“Exactly,” I said with a grin. “I also plan on embarrassing Matt as much as possible. It’s only fair after he dragged me here.”

Sarah laughed. “I respect that. But seriously, if you change your mind, the WAG suite’s always an option. You’d be warm, and Matt wouldn’t have to worry about anyone accidentally spilling nachos on you.”

I pretended to consider it for a moment before shrugging. “Maybe if I get too cold. But for now, I think I’ll stick to the seats. I kinda want to see how crazy the fans get.”

Emily reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “Here, let me give you my number, just in case. If you need directions to the suite or just want to escape the chaos, text me.”

I handed her my phone, watching as she quickly entered her contact information. “Thanks,” I said, feeling genuinely grateful for her thoughtfulness.

“No problem,” Emily replied, slipping her phone back into her bag. “And if Matt gives you grief about embarrassing him, just remind him he’s the one who invited you.”

“Trust me, I will,” I said, smiling.

Sarah glanced toward the exit where the other WAGs were starting to make their way toward the suite. “We’re heading up now, but let us know if you change your mind.”

“I will,” I promised, waving as they left.

Turning my attention back to the rink, I could feel a giddy sort of excitement bubbling in my chest. The stands were starting to fill, and the hum of energy in the arena was unmistakable. This was Matt’s world, and I was more than ready to experience it—nachos, cold air, and all.

As the arena continued to fill, I made my way down to my seat near the glass. The chill in the air was sharp, but the energy of the crowd warmed me. It was electric—fans were already decked out in Rangers jerseys, waving signs, and chanting. I glanced down at my own jersey, the big bold "73" on the back making me grin. Matt had insisted I wear it, and I could almost picture his blush when he saw me in it earlier.

I finally found my seat, right next to the penalty box, and chuckled to myself. Of course, Matt had set this up.

“He’s planning ahead,” I muttered, shaking my head. If he thought I wouldn’t tease him about ending up in the sin bin tonight, he had another thing coming.

The music blared as the teams started making their way onto the ice for introductions. The crowd erupted, and I leaned forward, the cold from the glass seeping through my palms as I pressed them against it.

When the Rangers took the ice, I immediately spotted Matt. He skated out confidently, his stick tapping against the boards as the crowd roared. His gaze swept across the arena, and when his eyes landed on me, I swear his shoulders relaxed. He grinned and gave a quick tap of his stick on the ice before skating off to join the team huddle.

I waved at him, smirking. “Yeah, don’t mess up now,” I murmured, knowing full well he couldn’t hear me but wishing he could.

As the game began, I found myself completely engrossed. The action was fast-paced, and the sound of skates slicing the ice and sticks clashing was thrilling. But true to Matt’s own prediction, it wasn’t long before I saw him headed toward his first 2 minute penalty.

The crowd’s boos echoed through the arena as Matt skated toward the penalty box, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement. I watched as he sat down, leaning back in the seat like he owned the place.

He caught my eye immediately and smirked, shrugging as if to say, What can you do? Then he mouthed, “Wrong call.”

I raised an eyebrow and glanced up at the replay on the jumbotron. The footage clearly showed him hooking an opposing player’s stick just enough to trip him up. The crowd groaned in unison, clearly unimpressed, but I grinned.

When the camera cut back to the live feed of the penalty box, there he was, lounging in his seat like this was part of his game plan all along. His gaze flicked up to the screen, then back to me. Realizing I had his full attention, I decided to lean into the moment.

I widened my eyes like an over-the-top fangirl, grabbed my phone, and angled it toward myself and the penalty box behind me. I waved dramatically, pulling a face of pure excitement as if I were a diehard fan spotting my favorite player.

Matt’s smirk widened when he realized what I was doing. He rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

I pressed my phone’s camera shutter repeatedly, flipping through the photos as I giggled to myself. The live feed still had him on screen, and as I glanced back, I saw him shaking his head but clearly fighting a laugh.

I waved again, this time pointing at the jersey I was wearing—the one with his number—and mouthing, “Big fan!”

He pressed his glove to his forehead in mock exasperation, then leaned forward slightly to hide his face, “You’re impossible.”

I beamed, holding up my phone to pretend to take one last selfie, just as he leaned back in his seat, fully resigned to his fate.

When his penalty was finally over, he skated back onto the ice with a quick glance over his shoulder at me. The moment felt like ours alone, tucked into the chaos of the game and the roaring crowd.

As the game continued, I looked down at the selfies I’d taken and couldn’t stop smiling. He might not live this down anytime soon, but something told me he wouldn’t really mind.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The rest of the game unfolded with an intensity that had the crowd on their feet more often than not. The Rangers pulled ahead with a goal in the second period, and the arena erupted in cheers. I was still riding the high of my penalty-box antics, but now I was just trying to focus on the action—though admittedly, my eyes followed Matt more than the puck.

Every time he made a play, I couldn’t help but cheer a little louder than anyone else around me. When he made a big hit along the boards, I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Let's go!” loud enough that a few people in nearby seats turned to look at me with amused smiles.

As the clock ticked down on the third period, the Rangers were up by two goals, and the energy in the building was electric. The final buzzer sounded, sealing the win, and I jumped to my feet with the rest of the crowd, clapping and shouting as the team gathered to celebrate on the ice.

I watched Matt skate in line for the post-game handshakes with the other team, his helmet off and a grin plastered across his face. When he glanced toward the seats near the penalty box, I caught his eye and gave him a subtle thumbs-up.

He nodded, still grinning, before disappearing down the tunnel with his teammates.

The crowd began to thin out, and I lingered for a moment, scrolling through my photos from the night—especially the ones I’d taken of him in the penalty box. Just as I was about to head toward the exit, I got a text.

MATT: You coming down, or are you too busy being a fan?

I snorted, shaking my head, and quickly typed back:

ME: What’s in it for me? MATT: I won’t make you sit next to the penalty box next time. ME: Tempting, but I actually had a great view. ;) MATT: Okay, fine. I’ll buy you dinner. Now hurry up before I change my mind.

I smiled, slipping my phone into my pocket and making my way to the area where family and guests were allowed post-game. After flashing the pass Matt had arranged for me, I was let through into the waiting area outside the locker rooms.

The hallway buzzed with activity—players walking out, greeting their families, and chatting with fans. I spotted a few familiar faces from earlier, the wives and girlfriends I’d met, and they waved at me warmly.

It wasn’t long before Matt appeared, still in his gear but now minus the skates, his hair damp from the shower he’d undoubtedly taken in record time. His bag was slung over one shoulder, and his grin widened when he spotted me.

“Hey,” he said, walking over with an ease that made it look like he hadn’t just played a grueling game.

“Hey yourself,” I replied, trying not to let my smile get too big.

“You enjoy the game?” he asked, dropping his bag to the floor.

“Loved it. Especially the part where you spent two minutes in time-out,” I teased, crossing my arms.

He groaned. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Figures,” he said, rolling his eyes but still grinning. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Absolutely,” I said, glancing down at the jersey I was still wearing. “But you better not make me walk around town like this. People are going to think I’m a stalker or something.”

Matt laughed, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder again. “I think people will figure out who you’re with pretty quickly.”

He reached out, his hand brushing against my lower back as he led me toward the exit.

The night felt alive as we stepped out into the cool air, the city still buzzing with post-game energy. I didn’t know where we were headed, but with Matt walking beside me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

We stepped out into the night, the city lights casting a glow on everything around us. The streets were alive with people, some still wearing Rangers gear, likely heading home after the game. Matt walked close beside me, his hand brushing mine every now and then as we weaved through the crowd.

“Where are we going?” I asked after a while, glancing up at him.

He smirked, his eyes warm and teasing. “You’ll see.”

I arched an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Something about the way he looked at me in that moment—confident, yet slightly nervous—made my stomach do a little flip.

We turned a corner, leaving the busier streets behind, and found ourselves in a quieter part of the city. The sounds of honking cars and chatter faded into the background, replaced by the occasional hum of a passing cab.

Matt slowed his steps, glancing around before stopping in front of a small, cozy-looking diner with big windows that glowed softly in the dark. “I figured you might be hungry after all that yelling you did,” he said, opening the door for me.

I laughed. “Yelling? You mean cheering for you?”

“Is that what you were doing?” he shot back, grinning as I stepped inside.

The diner was nearly empty, just a couple of patrons scattered across the booths. The smell of fresh coffee and warm food filled the air, and it immediately felt like one of those places that stayed the same no matter how much the city changed around it.

We slid into a booth near the back, and Matt set his bag down on the seat beside him. He leaned back, looking completely at ease, and I couldn’t help but notice how different he seemed here than he did at the rink. Less intense, more relaxed.

When the server came by, we ordered milkshakes—chocolate for me, vanilla for him—and a plate of fries to share.

As soon as she walked away, Matt’s gaze shifted back to me. His smile softened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at me like he was trying to figure something out.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious under his stare.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Just…you looked like you were having fun tonight. I liked seeing that.”

His words caught me off guard, and I felt a warmth rise to my cheeks. “Well, you did give me a lot to cheer for. That goal in the second period was impressive.”

“Thanks,” he said, his grin turning a little shy. “I was hoping you’d see that.”

We fell into easy conversation after that, talking about the game, the fans, the way he’d handled the penalty box situation. He made fun of how I’d acted like a crazed fan, and I teased him about the dramatic way he shrugged in the box.

Our milkshakes arrived, along with the fries, and we shared them like we’d been doing this for years.

At one point, I reached for a fry at the same time he did, our fingers brushing against each other. Neither of us pulled back immediately, and when I finally did, I glanced up to find him watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

He hesitated, as if weighing his words, before finally saying, “I’ve never really done this before.”

“Done what?”

“This.” He gestured between us. “Brought someone into…all of it. My life, the game, everything.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “Matt, I—”

“I’m not saying that to freak you out,” he added quickly. “I just…I don’t know. I wanted you to know that this means something to me. You mean something to me.”

The words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. My heart felt like it was pounding loud enough for the whole diner to hear.

“You mean something to me, too,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes searched mine, and the small smile that broke across his face after that made me feel like I’d just scored a goal of my own.

We sat there for a little while longer, talking and laughing until the fries were gone and the milkshakes were just empty glasses.

When we finally stepped back out into the night, the city was quieter, the streets mostly empty now. As we drove back to his place, he reached over and took my hand in his.

I glanced up at him, surprised, but he didn’t look at me, just kept his gaze forward, his thumb brushing lightly against mine.

It wasn’t until we were almost at his building that he finally said, “You don’t have to wear my number to embarrass me at the next game, you know.”

I laughed, squeezing his hand. “Oh, I will. Just wait and see, Manhattan.”

His laugh joined mine, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

The elevator doors slid closed, and the soft hum of the ascent filled the space. Matt leaned against the side wall, his hands casually in his pockets, but his eyes flicked over to me, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked, his voice light but teasing.

I raised an eyebrow, fighting back a grin. “You mean the bedroom two doors away from yours? Of course. My, my, what a gentleman.”

He chuckled, stepping out of the elevator as we reached his floor. We made our way down the quiet hallway, and when we got to the door of the guest room, he turned to face me, giving a little bow with a flourish of his hand.

“Your suite, madam,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

“Why, thank you, sir,” I replied, slipping into the playful tone he’d started. “It was a pleasant evening.”

But as I reached for the doorknob, his tone shifted ever so slightly. “I guess… goodnight,” he said, his voice softer now. “And I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

I froze, my hand on the door, the weight of his words sinking in. My flight. My chest tightened as the realization hit me—I was leaving tomorrow.

“Oh… yeah,” I said, my voice quieter now, almost reluctant. “Goodnight, Matt.”

He gave me a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and for the first time all night, the usual ease between us felt slightly frayed. He took a step back, lingering in the hallway for a moment as if he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just nodded.

“Goodnight,” he said again, and then he turned and walked toward his room, his shoulders a little lower than they’d been earlier.

I watched him go, the door to his room clicking shut behind him. My fingers lingered on the doorknob, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn it just yet. Instead, I leaned my forehead against the cool wood, my heart feeling heavier than it had any right to.

Why did it feel like saying goodnight was harder than it should’ve been? And why, as I stood there in the quiet hallway, did I feel like I’d already started missing him?

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The sunlight filtered in through the blinds, casting soft streaks across the guest room walls. I sat cross-legged on the bed, my packed bag resting beside me, and my phone clutched in my hands. I’d been staring at the screen for a while now, scrolling aimlessly but not really seeing anything. The pit in my stomach had been growing since I’d woken up.

I glanced up when I heard a soft knock on the open door. Matt was standing there, his hair damp from a shower, little drops of water still clinging to the ends. He was in a simple gray T-shirt and sweats, his usual effortless look that somehow made my chest ache more than it should.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual as he stepped into the room. His eyes flicked to my bag. “You… all ready to go?”

I nodded, though it felt like my head weighed a ton. “Yeah,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Just waiting for the car.”

He shifted on his feet, his hands sliding into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Right,” he said, looking down for a moment. Then, he stepped closer, his presence filling the room in that way only Matt could. “You sure you’ve got everything? You didn’t leave your charger or… I don’t know, that Rangers shirt or something?”

I let out a soft laugh at that, trying to lighten the mood. “I triple-checked. Pretty sure I’m not stealing any more of your stuff.”

“Good,” he said, though his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean, not that I’d mind if you did.”

The air between us felt heavier than it had last night, the kind of weight that came when you both knew something was ending, even if just for a little while.

“You know,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, a few feet away from me. “You don’t have to go.”

I blinked at him, my chest tightening. “Matt…”

“No, I know,” he said quickly, cutting me off before I could say anything else. “I know you have school and everything. I’m not saying you should stay. I just…” He hesitated, running a hand through his damp hair. “It’s been nice having you here, that’s all.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the fabric of my sweatpants. “It’s been nice being here,” I admitted, my voice quieter. “Really nice.”

We sat there in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside.

“When’s your car supposed to get here?” he asked eventually, his voice low.

“Twenty minutes,” I said.

He nodded, his jaw tightening slightly before he glanced at me again. “Think we could make the most of it?”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. “I think we can try.”

Matt smiled faintly at my response, though there was still that hint of sadness in his eyes. He shifted closer, reaching out to tug gently at the sleeve of the hoodie I was wearing—his hoodie, the one I hadn’t stopped living in since I’d arrived in New York.

“Guess this is officially yours now,” he said softly.

I looked down at the oversized fabric, a bittersweet laugh escaping me. “Think it already was.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed on mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the car coming, the flight, the reality of going back to San Diego. There was just Matt, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at me like he didn’t want me to go anywhere.

“I’m gonna miss you, San Diego,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper.

“Don’t start,” I said, my own voice wavering as I tried to keep it light. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re… you’re kind of my favorite person, you know that?”

My throat tightened, and I didn’t know what to say. The weight of his words, the raw sincerity in them, hit me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” I said finally, my voice barely audible.

Matt reached out, his hand brushing mine where it rested on the bed. His fingers closed around mine, warm and steady, and I felt myself relax just a little, even as my heart ached.

“You’ll come back, right?” he asked after a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I’ll come back.”

“Good,” he said, his lips quirking up into the smallest of smiles. “Because I’m holding you to that.”

The sound of my phone buzzing broke the moment, and I glanced down to see the notification from the car service. My ride was here.

Matt saw it too, and his hand lingered on mine for just a second longer before he pulled away, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “Guess I should walk you down,” he said, his voice quieter now.

I nodded, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder as I stood. My legs felt heavier than they should, like every step toward the door was another step toward something I didn’t want to face.

Matt followed me out into the hallway, quiet as we made our way to the elevator. When we stepped inside, the silence between us stretched, but it wasn’t awkward. It was just heavy, full of all the things we weren’t saying.

When we reached the lobby, Matt walked me to the waiting car, his hands in his pockets and his head down just enough that I couldn’t see his expression.

I turned to him once I reached the car, biting my lip. “Thanks for everything, Manhattan. Really.”

He looked up then, his eyes meeting mine. “Anytime.” he said, his voice soft but steady. Before I could think too much about it, I leaned in and wrapped my arms around him, holding on tighter than I meant to. He hugged me back, his arms solid and warm around me, and for a moment, I didn’t want to let go.

But eventually, I had to.

I stepped back, giving him a small smile as I climbed into the car. He stood there on the curb, watching as the driver pulled away, and when I glanced back, he was still standing there, hands in his pockets, until I turned the corner and he was out of sight. I leaned back in the seat, my chest tight and my heart full, already counting down the days until I could come back.

The car had been stuck in traffic for a few minutes, the muffled sounds of honking and engines filling the air. I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes to shut it all out for a moment. I wasn’t ready to leave.

And then I heard the door open.

I jolted upright, my heart racing. “What the—”

Matt.

He was standing there, sweaty and out of breath, a sheen on his flushed face as if he’d just sprinted a marathon. He leaned against the open door, chest heaving, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Matt? What the hell are you doing?” I asked, blinking in disbelief.

He held up a hand, trying to catch his breath. “I—I have to tell you something,” he started, words tumbling out between gasps. “Before you go. Because if I don’t, I swear I’m gonna regret it—and honestly, I think the girls might actually beat the shit out of me at the next game if I don’t.”

“What?” I stammered, still completely thrown.

“But it’s not just about that,” he rambled, gesturing wildly. “I just— I think I have to say it. Even if it’s stupid. Even if it messes things up because I don’t know how else to… Ugh.” He groaned and dragged a hand down his face, looking so exasperated with himself.

“Matt—”

“Basically, Y/N,” he cut me off, locking his eyes with mine, “I have a crush on you.”

I froze, staring at him, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.

“I know it’s probably weird. We’re like best friends, and you’re leaving, and we’ll barely get to see each other, but I can’t just pretend like it’s not there anymore. And it’s been driving me nuts because I don’t want to mess this up or make things awkward or—”

“Matt.”

“—or make you feel pressured because that’s the last thing I’d want, and—”

“Matt.”

“What?”

I stared at him for a second before a small laugh escaped me, shaking my head in disbelief. “I already know.”

He blinked, looking completely thrown. “What?”

“It’s kind of obvious,” I said, still laughing softly. “You’ve been wearing your feelings on your sleeve for weeks. You are not as subtle as you think sometimes.”

His jaw dropped, his cheeks going redder—though I wasn’t sure if it was from exertion or embarrassment. “Okay, rude,” he muttered.

“I mean, you literally chased down a car to tell me,” I teased, my heart fluttering even as I tried to keep the moment light.

“Well, yeah, because I—” I didn’t let him finish.

I leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, my face burning as I pulled back and whispered, “I guess I have a crush on you too, Matthew.”

He stared at me, his wide brown eyes searching mine, his breath catching as if he didn’t know what to do with the words I’d just said.

And then, in one swift movement, he cupped my face in his hands, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine.

The world disappeared. The noise, the city, the traffic—all of it melted away. It was just Matt and the warm press of his lips, the way his thumb brushed gently against my cheek, the way everything about him felt so… right.

When we finally broke apart, he stayed close, his forehead resting against mine, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured.

I laughed softly, my heart pounding in my chest. “Guess we’re even, then.”

The driver cleared his throat, and we both startled as the car started moving again. Matt chuckled, shuffling back slightly but keeping his hand in mine.

“San Diego,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “You better come back soon.”

“I will,” I promised, squeezing his hand.

And for the first time since this whole whirlwind of a trip had started, I felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, and just as I was settling back into my seat, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

Matt was getting out of the car.

“What now?” I muttered, leaning toward the open window.

He bent down, resting his forearms on the window frame, his face close enough that I could see the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks. “Call me as soon as you land, please?” he said, his voice softer than usual.

I laughed, shaking my head at him. “Matt, I’ll probably text you when the light turns green.”

His lips curved into a crooked smile, his gaze lingering for a moment like he didn’t want to let me go. “Still. Just… call me, okay?”

“Okay,” I promised, trying not to let the sudden tightness in my chest show.

He stepped back onto the sidewalk, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched the car begin to move again. I twisted in my seat, catching one last glimpse of him standing there before I sighed and turned back around. And then, my phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen, a grin breaking out across my face when I saw his name. Rolling my eyes fondly, I answered, “So, when are you coming to San Diego?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by his soft laugh. “I guess that depends. You free next weekend?”

[asunsetgrace16]

THIS FUCKING ATEEE

Love it love it

Kinda Tempting

Genre: a big mixed bag of all the things

Word count: 4.4k

Featuring: Mat Barzal x female reader x Matthew Rempe

Warnings: cheating, secret relationship

Summary: you recently left your position as the media manager for the Islanders behind, along with your boyfriend Mat Barzal, for a position with the Rangers. And their new rookie Matthew Rempe causes quite the stir both on the ice and off

Author’s note: I rewrote this like 4 times…hopefully it’s good. This will be a little series, so things should pick up. I feel like establishing background and stuff is always hard. Hopefully you all like this? And I’m sorry I literally picked two guys named Matt, could I have made that any harder on me and you lol

If someone told you that you’d be working in the NHL while also dating one of the hottest stars in the league, both in skill and looks, you would’ve never believed them. But here you were. The head of the media team department for one of the biggest teams in sports, and also the girlfriend of none other than Mat Barzal. 

The two of you met during your first season leading the media department for the New York Islanders, and you made it your mission to get him to not hate doing the stupid challenge videos and dumb quizzes that every team made their players do. And by the end of that season he’d become a pro, eventually fessing up that he only enjoyed seeing you pop up with your iphone because he knew it meant an excuse to see you.

Now it certainly wasn’t a walk in the park getting the stamp of approval from the organization, but Mat reassured you he wouldn’t let you get fired over it. And they eventually came around to the idea, only for you to get a job offer from their rival New York Rangers 2 seasons later. Despite the move from Elmont to NYC only making your distance roughly 2 hours depending on the day, it had proven to be difficult on the two of you. Your schedules never the same, not even enough for phone calls or facetimes. Sometimes going months without seeing one another. 

Thoughts plaguing your mind on whether or not he still loved you, if he’d been seeing other girls behind your back. When you look as good as Mat Barzal it’s hard to imagine him not having tons of girls throwing themselves at him. You didn’t want to think of the worst, but you saw how other guys in the league made things work with their girlfriends, so why couldn’t he do the same with you. 

Luckily today was the stadium series game between the New York Islanders and the Rangers, meaning an opportunity to finally get to see your boyfriend after almost two months. And to say it was a big game was an understatement, you just hoped Mat would actually make time to see you, and reassure you that things were good between the two of you. 

You arrived to MetLife stadium a few hours early, the media grind keeping you on almost the same schedule as the players. Your first assignment of the day was documenting the debut of Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe, though looking at this guy you’d never guess he was a rookie. He’s 6 foot 8, literally towering over every guy on the ice, and probably off of it too. 

After he finished up a few interviews, you saw him making his way past the crowd of reporters, looking a bit lost as he scanned the faces around. You assumed looking for you since he’d be told ahead of time he had media content to film today. 

“You must be Matthew Rempe.” You walked up to greet him and he smiled down at you, “How’d you know?” Eyeing him up and down you rolled your eyes as if he was someone easy to miss or not notice. “Let’s see, all the headlines talking about a 6 foot rookie debuting for the Rangers, I’d say that was the giveaway.” The two of you laughed as you started down the hall, walking towards the Rangers tunnel that led to the ice. “I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, my name is y/n. I’m the media manager for the Rangers, and unfortunately for you, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me this season.” 

The rookie simply smiling down at you as you two walked together, “something tells me I might be okay with that.” Fighting the blush that threatened to grace your cheeks, you continued on explaining what it is he’d be filming. He listed to you explain things somewhat, but then he sort of zoned out. Paying too much attention to your smile when you laughed, the excitement in your voice when you talked about your job. Not to mention he was taken aback at how beautiful you were. Your hair failing perfectly over your shoulders beneath your Rangers beanie. He was captivated by you, but tried to keep his cool. 

“Okay, so we are gonna do just a little introduction. Whatever you feel like saying, introduce yourself, tell us where we are, all that fun stuff.” Rempe quickly snapping back to reality, stopping at where the tunnel began to open up to reveal the stadium. He simply followed your lead, waiting as you took out your phone and cued him to start whenever he was ready. 

“Hey Rangers fans, it’s Matt Rempe here. Getting ready to make my debut at the Stadium Series here at MetLife. It’s time to bang some bodies and bring home a win!” He pumped his fists as he emphasized his final words for the camera, you signaling that was a great take. Next, moving over to the bench to do a couple sit down questions. 

“Perfect, you are really a natural Matthew. I’m impressed! It took some of the other guys years to get comfortable with doing all the media stuff.” He smiled as he stood up, once again towering over you. “Well you made it really easy, made me feel comfortable and all the nerves went out the window.” 

“Well good! I’m gonna go edit this now and we will probably have it posted within an hour, just in case you wanted to see it.” “Oh perfect,” Matthew began reaching into his pocket before pulling out his phone, “can you text me once it’s up?” You took his phone, not thinking anything of it, you had plenty of his teammates phone numbers. It becoming a thing for guys to want to send embarrassing clips of each other for their group chats. “Sure thing, there you go! Shoot me a text so I have your number and I’ll get you the link as soon as it’s up.” 

You smiled as the two of you headed up the tunnel, some of the islanders players making their way out to see the ice. The second you saw your boyfriend’s face walking toward you, all of your professional game day demeanor went out the window and you took off running.

As you took off up the tunnel, Matthew was a bit confused, not realizing what was going on, he continued walking as his eyes followed you. Soon seeing you jump into the arms of Mat Barzal from the Islanders. His heart sunk a bit, of course she’s not single, he sighed to himself as he pulled out his phone. Trying to not seem so awkward when he walked past the two of you kissing. Flashing a smile when you mentioned that you’d text him after you finished editing the things you two just filmed. 

Why was he so shocked to see a beautiful girl like you dating someone? Maybe it was shocking that you were dating one of the top guys in the league, who also happens to be on one of the Rangers rival teams. He’d felt a bit foolish for thinking that a girl like you would not only be single, but ever give him, a rookie, the time of day like that. Heading into the locker room, he threw on his headphones and started to get zoned in for the game. 

 It had been about a month since you’d seen Mat, and you couldn’t contain your excitement. He smiled at you as he braced for your hug, cutting it short before giving you a quick kiss. “Mat, come on, it’s been almost two months. Aren’t you happy to see me?” He nodded to his teammates to walk without him as he stayed back, “yeah of course I am, but I’m also trying to get focused. I’m sorry I’m not jumping up and down like you.” His laugh caught you off guard, as almost if he was making fun of how excited you were to see him. 

“Sorry for being happy to see my boyfriend. Well go get focused, I don’t wanna be a distraction to you” Dropping his hands you’d pushed past him, doing your best to hide any emotions you had and ignore the feeling of just wanting to cry. 

“Y/n, babe come on don’t be like that!” 

Mat stood in the tunnel yelling after you, but he didn’t bother to chase you. Knowing it wasn’t the time or place, though when was the time and place for you two anymore? 

Finding a warm area tucked away at the stadium, you took out your laptop and started editing, anything you could do to get your mind off of Mat and how annoyed you were. . 

Beginning to edit the footage you took of Matthew, a smile crept across your face. Everything about Rempe was infectious. His thick Canadian accent as he spoke made you laugh. The little phrases and things he’d say when he got excited about the game and this opportunity. Pulling out your phone, you shot him a text, not sure if he’d respond since he was probably getting warmed up. 

“Soooo, when is it considered too early to make Matthew Rempe, let’s bang some bodies merch? Lol” 

Sitting in his stall, Matthew heard a quick ding over his music, slightly cursing at himself for not turning his phone on do not disturb. He had been getting tons of texts from friends and family about his debut, and while he appreciated it, they were distracting for sure. He went to simply swipe the text away, figuring he’d respond later. But he stopped as he saw your name displayed on the screen. 

He chuckled to himself at the text, typing out a quick reply before heading off to stretch with some of the guys. 

“Ehhh, not sure how entirely appropriate the merch would be. People who weren’t in on it may think it’s like a sex joke or something.” 

Finally seeing a reply from Matthew you laughed out loud, quickly typing a reply before you put the finishing touches on your social media post. 

“Oh lord I can see the headline now, Rangers merch sales at an all time high after rookie proudly endorses banging bodies.”

As soon as you got your content edited and posted, you shut your laptop and got everything packed back into your bag. Deciding you were in desperate need of caffeine if you were somehow gonna make it to game time. The Rangers kept a stash of energy drinks in their locker room, half the time you swore just for you because you never saw the guys drink them. 

“Oh no, here she comes! She’s gonna ask us to do a tik tok!” Vinny Trochek calling out to the guys playing soccer and they all pretended to scatter. Being the media girl the loved giving you a hard time, but you knew it came with the territory. “Very funny Vinny, just wait until you see the embarrassing shit I’ve got of you ready to post!” 

Trochek making a face at you as you popped in the locker room to grab your drink. 

buzz buzz 

“You know, if you were sneaking in the locker room to try and catch a glimpse of me shirtless or something, you could’ve just asked ;)” 

Practically choking on your Celsius you wiped your mouth as you stared at the text you receive from Matthew. He truly was something else, his flirting not at all subtle. Though you didn’t mind, he was a ten for sure. Though you knew he probably was a player and had girls drooling over him. 

But after the not so warm greeting from your boyfriend, you welcomed a little flirting. 

Exiting the locker room you locked eyes with Matthew giving you a shit eating grin as you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. He smiled to himself as he bit his tongue, turning his attention back to the guys as they finished up their game of soccer. 

The final horn sounded, ending one of the most exciting games you’ve seen in awhile. The Rangers somehow pulled out the win, coming back from down 3 goals to take the game in overtime. Rempe got his first fight in his NHL debut, and the media content you got from this game was endless. The thought of all the editing you’d have to do tonight buried in the back of your mind as you focused on trying to find something to eat in the catering area near the locker room. Lucky for you, some of the guys were always kind enough to set food aside for you, knowing you rarely ate when working the games. Not even by choice, but simply because you were responsible for catching anything and everything on camera and posting in real time. 

You munched on some french fries as you scrolled through the comments on your post of Rempe’s debut, laughing at all the girls drooling over him through their screens. Continuing your scroll you hardly noticed the scratched up knuckles reaching in to steal a fry. “Matthew Rempe how dare you!” 

He shot you a cocky grin as he tossed the fry in his mouth, “Sorry, I had to, you were asking for it.” Rolling your eyes you finished off the fries, then reaching for your bag only to be stopped by Matthew. “Here, as an apology for stealing a fry, let me carry this for you. It’s the least I can do.” Smiling softly you obliged, letting him hold the bag as the two of you headed towards the parking garage. 

“Oh, nice fight by the way. Didn’t feel like wasting much time huh?” He smiled proud as he shrugged, “Better to get it over with early, gets the nerves out you know?” 

As you approached your car, he pulled your bag from his shoulder. “Not seeing the boyfriend or anything?” Checking your phone, you’d never heard back from Mat whether or not he’d want to see you tonight. “Probably not, I’ve got a lot of editing to do and…” your voice trailed off as you tried to make up a believable excuse as to why your boyfriend couldn’t see you. To which Matthew saw right through, “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you earlier, trouble in paradise?” 

Letting out a huff you tossed your bag into your passenger seat as you laughed, “how much time you got Rempe?” An apologetic smile crept across his face as he saw you holding in a lot. He wanted to just hug you, let you cry if you needed to. He’d only just met you a few hours ago yet he felt like he was meant to. Like you needed him to come into your life and somehow make it better. “Well, my family is in town and I definitely have to see them. We are grabbing dinner. But, I can certainly make time later tonight?” Nodding your head you walked over to the drivers side of your car, Matthew offering a quick hug to you, sensing you needed it. Which you did, very much so. He closed the car door before leaning down and resting his arms on the frame as you started it up. “I’ll text you when I’m done with my family? Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky which was quadruple the size of yours, making you chuckle as you wrapped yours around it. “Don’t make me sit around my phone waiting for a text you don’t plan on sending Matthew Rempe.” 

He laughed as he walked away from your car, “you kidding? I’ve already got our conversation pinned in my messages!” Shaking your head you rolled up the window, pulling out of the garage and heading out on the traffic filled road for your drive home. 

As much as you loved your job, sitting on your couch and staring at the same repetitive clips of the Rangers for hours while editing really got old fast. Trying to fight your exhaustion you closed your laptop, pulling out your phone to try giving Mat a call. He texted you after the game, a half hearted apology that truly did nothing more than make you roll your eyes. 

Hey it’s Mat, I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.

Typical Mat, phone on do not disturb after a loss, and you probably won’t hear from him until later or even tomorrow if he’s really in a mood. It had unfortunately become the norm, and while you hated it, you couldn’t say much about it. You did sign up for this somewhat when decided to date a NHL player, and one who happens to be one of the top names in the league. He bears a lot of weight on his shoulders from his franchise, and it’s been taking a toll on him for the last year or so. Spilling over to affect your relationship, though he won’t agree. He thinks things are as good as they’ve ever been. Despite the two of you barely speaking, rarely ever seeing one another now, and we won’t even talk about the lack of anything remotely sexual. Not even the occasional nude could get Mat going, so you’d stopped trying to change him. Accepting that maybe this was who he was now, but never building up the courage to just walk away. 

The buzzing of your phone in your lap snapping you from your sad thoughts, as a smile now appeared on your face after seeing Matthew’s name pop up on your screen. “Thank you for calling y/n’s phone, how can I help you?” Matthew chuckled on the other end of the call, “I am really hoping that y/n is available and still wants to talk to me after the long day she had? I might even have dessert that I am sure she’d love right about now.” 

“You want to come over?” Your tone sounding a bit more harsh than you intended, just a bit shocked that he was offering to stop by versus just talk on the phone or text. “Oh, um, I don’t know. You seemed a bit down earlier, and I just felt like you could use some cheering up. Plus you said it yourself, I’m gonna have to get used to spending time with you so might as well get a head start.” 

Before he could finish his sentence you’d texted him your address, telling yourself to say fuck it and have him come over. You refused to sit and sulk over your boyfriend any more than you already had. 

“Sweet, I’m only like 15 minutes away. Me and the cake will be there soon!” You cackled into the phone as Matthew quickly regretted his words, “I meant like the dessert, not my ass or anything. Oh god! Look I’ll be there soon okay?” 

Embarrassed, he hung up while you continued your laughter. Packing up your computer and cleaning up your place a bit, not sure where your sudden nerves were coming from. It’s not like Matthew would be expecting a five star mansion to be hiding within your small NYC apartment. And before you could double check the clothes you’d thrown on the second you got home, a knock came at your door. The last thing you expected when opening it was Matthew to now be in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair still somewhat damp from his postgame shower, looking even better than you’d remembered. To put in plainly, he looked hot. 

“I hope you like vanilla cake with chocolate frosting!” 

He beamed as he carried the cake inside, setting it on your kitchen island then taking in the apartment. Nodding in approval as you went to grab two glasses, offering water which Matthew kindly accepted. 

“So,” he started as he took a seat on your sofa, “cake first or did you want to tell me your life story to get that over with?” Grabbing the box of cake along with two forks, you took a seat next to Matthew before handing him the extra utensil. 

“How about both?”

“Okay so, why don’t you just breakup with him? I mean, I know that’s easier said than done, but you don’t seem very happy.” Playing with the hem of your sweatshirt as you finished telling Matthew the gist of your love story with Mat, and his reactions were all what you’d expected. “I don’t know, I mean, I love him. It’s not easy to break up with someone you love. And I keep telling myself it’ll get better.” 

“When? Once he wins a Stanley Cup and finally eases up a bit from his Mr. Perfect persona and attitude? How long is that gonna take?” 

He had a point, you truly had no clue when Mat would change and start being like himself again. You missed the karaoke nights with him and your friends, movie nights at your place, dinner dates, even just sleeping in the same bed as him. You missed him, but something tells you he didn’t miss you. 

“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole. Hell, I just met you like 10 hours ago yet somehow I am in your apartment sharing cake and talking to you about your relationship troubles. I don’t know how we ended up here but I’m not mad at it.” A smile crept on your lips for the first time in the past thirty minutes as Matthew rested his hand on your thigh. “All I’m saying is, if you were my girlfriend, I would’ve sprinted down that tunnel today to hug you and kiss you. I would’ve come to see you after the game no matter if my team won the game or lost by twelve goals. You’re beautiful, funny, super fucking talented at your job, and from the few hours I’ve been around you, I can see how amazing you are.”

You hadn’t noticed yourself tearing up until Matthew reached out to wipe your cheek. “I’m not trying to make you cry, now I feel bad. Should I make you laugh?” He pouted his lips at you, doing his best to earn a smile. 

“Like being so for real, if I was your boyfriend and I got to see you today after like a month, we would’ve had to go somewhere private at that stadium cause there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over you the second I see you.” 

Shaking your head you grabbed the forks and cake box from the table, walking them all to the kitchen as Matthew laughed at his words, though not denying them. “Well, as amazing as that sounds, I couldn’t even tell you the last time Mat did any of that.”

Matthew practically choked on his water as you rinsed off the forks, “what?”, then putting them aside to dry. “Don’t tell me you haven’t even been having sex with him, he’s your boyfriend y/n! Like…is he gay?” 

“Matthew Rempe!” 

“I mean, I don’t know,” he shrugged as he joined you in the kitchen, “I’m trying to wrap my brain around how a guy could be dating a girl like you, and not be even having sex with her. Like I get the not seeing each other as much because of being in two different cities, the limited phone calls and stuff, but going months and months without sex!? I’m not trying to cause a stir in your relationship or come across disrespectful, but I would one hundred percent not be able to go a month without getting my hands on you and- actually, let me stop myself before I say some things I shouldn’t.” 

Your jaw practically on the floor as he retreated, quickly sipping his water so he didn’t have to speak. “No, actually I think you should continue. I’m kinda tempted to hear this.” You leaned back against the counter as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, a smirk on your face as you could sense Matthew’s nervousness with you getting closer to him. He eyes you up and down from behind his glass before that signature cocky grin crept across his face. His hands now on either side of your waist as he looked down at you. 

Everything in you was telling you to stop, to not let your interaction with Mat lead you to do anything you’d regret. But hell you’ve been in this cycle for months. Constantly waiting for the day your boyfriend starts acting like your boyfriend again. And you were also a woman with needs. If a 6 foot hot man in your kitchen wants to gas you up and show you what you’ve been missing, how are you to say no to that?

“Well for starters, I’ve been trying my best to not stare at your ass with these little shorts you’ve got on. Not to mention keeping my hands off your legs, which I can’t believe you were hiding underneath your jeans all day cause wow.” To say you were enjoying his compliments was an understatement. 

“Anything else?” 

His fingers now brushing your hair back from your face as he could see your breath catch in your chest, you were nervous. He could see it on your face, your heart telling you that it wasn’t a good idea. But your body language telling him that you’d been missing this. 

“I didn’t come over to do this, or fuck up your relationship. I promise you that. And if you want me to stop, I’ll respect that.” His hand cupped your cheek as he waited for your sign to stop, but nothing came. 

“I don’t think anything you do right now could fuck up my relationship any more than it already is.” You smirked as his lips finally pressed to yours, the butterflies in your stomach bursting as you brought your hands to his hair, deepening the kiss as he picked you up, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist. 

A laugh escaped your lips as you saw how high you were off the ground in his arms, joking that he could help you be able to clean the top of your fridge from up there. Matthew shaking his head as he brought your lips back to his. Only to be interrupted by your phone buzzing on the counter. 

“Oh shit, boyfriend’s calling.” 

You rolled your eyes as Matthew handed the phone to you, only to silence the call and toss your phone back onto the island. 

“Guess I’m a little busy right now.” 

[stars1997]

Matt Tempe smut I beg u🙏🏼🙏🏼

Here you go! sorry it took so long, but i hope you like it!!

Gaming

Paring(s): Matt Rempe x reader

Warnings: (18+) smut!!!, blowjob, head pushing, trying to keep quiet, getting head while on call with friends, praising, degrading, mentions of head pushing, cum swallowing.

(Not edited)

Summary: Matt was playing video games with his friends. Y/n wants to get his attention. She comes over to him when he’s playing video games and decides to give him a blowie. He’s playing with some friends, so he has to be quiet.

1.2k words

_

“Come on guys! You guys’ fucking suck, your literal dog shit. I had two guys on me, and I called for backup but none of you guys came to help.” Matt clicks some buttons on the controller in his hand before reaching up to adjust the mic on his headset so it sat in front of his mouth more.

“Oh, don’t fucking start this shit with me again. Just start the next game and when I call for help you guys better show up.” He shakes his head and lets out a laugh to the voice in his headphones.

He’s been playing video games for the past four hours now. you had no problem with it because it gave you time to do the things that you wanted to do like take a bath and read some of your book. It also allowed you to take a nap that you normally don’t get to take because Matt always bugs you with stupid shit.

but now you have woken from your nap. And after getting a cup of water and a snack you realized that you got nothing else to do. One thing you love to do when Matt is playing video games is to sit and watch him. you take your water and snack over to the couch and sit next to Matt.

“Hi baby. How was your bath and nap?” He asks, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before going right back to his game.

“It was good!” You grab an apple slice and bring it to his mouth so he can eat it. He takes it and chews it fast before he’s back to yelling at his friends.

You lay down on the couch so now your head is resting in his lap so you’re looking up at him. you finish eating your apples, watching him as he plays. You then turn so you’re facing his stomach. Coming up with a plan to entertain yourself.

You give him a fake yawn and pull his shirt over your head. Making him believe that you are just going to take another nap. You move your head in his lap trying to find a comfortable position to lay it. He lets out a grunt before reaching up to mute himself.

“Baby what are you doing?” he pulls his shit up so he can see your face.

“Getting comfortable so I can take a nap on my favorite pillow.” You pull his shirt back over your face not giving him a chance to respond.

You could hear muffled yelling coming out of his headphones. It doesn’t take him long to go back to his game. You lean forward and plant little kisses on his stomach.

He lets out a little hum. You kiss him harder, sucking and pulling at his skin so that it would leave marks. He mutes himself again.

“Stop that. You’re making me hard and I’m trying to play my game. give me like a few more games and then I’ll give you all the attention you need.” You send him a little pout.

“But I want you In my mouth now.” You move off the couch and kneel in front of  him. he was wearing a pair of basketball shorts. You slid them down enough to take his cock out of his pants.

“I’m going to suck you off while you play your game. so, unmute and play your game.” you told him before wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock. He lets out a hiss before reaching up and unmuting his microphone. You were taking your time knowing that it would make him frustrated.

“Come on guys lets finish this thing up. I’m getting tiered and want to go take a nap.” Matt says before you decide to take him fully into your mouth. His head tips. You could hear the muffled voices talking to him, but you know he wasn’t listening to what they were saying.

You start to move your head slowly. Taking your time and enjoying the feeling of having him in your mouth. you move your head so you’re now sucking the tip of his cock. The taste of precum hits your mouth.

You could tell he struggling to not make a sound. His game basically forgotten now. he tosses his controller to the side. his hand grabs your hair, and he pushes your head down. The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

“Guys I got to go.” his free hand hits a few buttons on the controller shutting off the console before tossing his headphones to the side landing next to the controller.

“Fuck you couldn’t have waited, could you? you hand to have my dick in your mouth. You nasty little slut. But this is what you wanted right? To be a slut and let the guys hear you sucking my cock?” his hand keeps your head down on his cock. You struggle to take in a breath, giving him two taps on his leg to let him know. He pulls you off his cock and makes you look up at him.

“You pretty little slut. You know the guys ask about how good you are in bed all the time, but I never tell them because your mine. Now, you’re going to suck my cock just how I like it or I’ll make you sleep on the couch tonight. Does that sound good?” You try to nod a yes but his hand that’s still griping your hair stops you.

“Yes.” Your voice also failing you, but he takes it anyway.

“Good fucking girl.” He pushes your head down so his tip is touching your lips. you open your mouth taking him in. your hand wraps around the base of his cock. he pulls your hand away and pushes your head down further. You don’t mind when he pushes your head because you know that if you told him, you didn’t want that he would stop. But you love it when he’s like this so you don’t really care at the moment.

You let him take control for a bit. He will occasionally, thrusting up into your mouth instead of pushing your head down on him. You could tell that now he’s getting closer to cuming.

His cock is twitching in your mouth and his grip on your hair his letting up. You bring your hands up, so they are now resting on his stomach. You drag your nails around his stomach, you could feel his stomach tense up.

He pulls you off his cock. His hand going from your hair to jerking himself off. The tip of his cock now resting on your tongue as you wait for him to let go.

“Fuck. Fuck. Yes! Oh god.” His cum lading on your tongue. Some of it sliding down your chin as you swallow what’s in your mouth.

“Fuck such a good girl for me huh? Always want to please me, don’t you? now go to the bedroom so I can fuck you for being a brat.” You stand up leaning forward to give him a kiss on his lips.

you step back and give him a wink. Taking your top off and sliding your bottoms off too before turning around and walking to your room.

“Brat!” He yells out from behind you.

[idontcare4urmom]

wrong || matt sturniolo

stepbrother!matt x fem!reader

summary: where your dad found a new woman on his life after one year of your mom's death,so you are forced to live all together after a lot of pressure,but what you didn't know yet is that her son is a total temping being that will send you over the edge..in many ways.

warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex,not proofread,porn with plot,dirty talk,eating out,pet-names,suggestive,scratching,tits sucking,etc.

a/n: my first language is not English,this sure has some grammar or other errors so i am sorry<3

."🎀".

"what the fuck you mean we have to move in with her?" you were basically shouting on your dad,and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the fact that he had moved on so far already or cause he didn't even cared to ask you if you acknowledge with it.

"i told you too many times that this is a very big and important step to me honey,besides her place is absolutely flawless,you will love it" his words only made you angrier,but you decided not to push it anymore since you knew deep down it would be waste of time,he had made his decision.

--------------------------------------

the days passed quickly,and you found yourself holding your suitcase in front of a captivating building that would change a part of your life for many years,at least your dad did not lie,it was trully more than luxurious,so with a deep sigh you walked until the doorway with him,your anxious levels on high.

after a few knocks the door opened to reveal a surprisingly tall,appealing woman standing there,with brunette silky highlights and a pretty good enough shaped body,the sight made you furrow although you could tell why your father had fallen for her.you were caught off guard when you were the one she even pulled into an embrace first and seemed in general eager to meet you.

"oh sweetie your dad has told me many things about you,i am Lana,come in,come in" you didn't had much time to process because she was pushing your hand gently inside,your eyes widening as you took in the house with your eyes,it was for sure bringing vibes of a cozy,modern place.

you didn't want to be in your normal pissy mood for the reason that she was treating you politely for now,so you made a small comment "wow,the decoration is really nice"

"oh thank you,i want you to be comfortable and feel welcomed here,you can go check the guest room that will be your own,is down the hall,if you need any help just call out my name" you nodded a little and began making your way towards the apparently new space you will probably spend most of the day at.

but,without realizing a sudden unrecognized human figure appeared in front of you while making it's way to another room,making you leave a small yelp from your lips "who are you?"

the blye eyed boy raised an eyebrow once he heard the question,letting a sarcastic laugh as he spoke "very ironic for someone to ask when they are the one in my house" oh? well he had sure attitude for the few seconds you had met him. you were about to say something in response even so he continued, a sheepish grin forming on his lips when he examined your presence through his dark eyelashes "wait..you must be my stepsister"

"huh?" was the only word you could express,you were incredibly confused--who was he? "i am Lana's son, Matt,no one informed you about me?" it was like he was able to read your thoughts,it only creeped you out more.

"no..my father must forgot to announce your existence to me" the words snarked out of your tongue as you were trying hard to act sassy,but for a disguise,cause shit the more you were observeting him the more perfect he got.

he had the necessary amount of beard to sense in case he ever trailed kisses down your body,his blue orbs seemed like they could stare deep into your soul yet in a enjoyable way,and hell those fingers were too distracting for no reason,especially with those silver rings that were practically begging for attention.just any of his facial features were ideal--however you weren't supposed to fall for him,it would be wrong.

you snapped out of your thoughts when there was a sound of a familiar voice snapping across the end of the hall,approaching the both of you excitedly,even though she was addresing specifically to you "i see you guys met,sorry darlin' i forgot to have a quick chat with you about that i have a kid..anyway he may be a pain sometimes but i am sure you will get along well with him"

--------------------------------

two weeks have passed,and she was completely wrong.every day the urge of smashing a bottle on top of his head is only increasing,he would suddenly barg into your bedroom searching for his own belongings,asserting that he often lost things by accident since he is being here from time to time--why? his set-up pc is on your area for years now.

despite that,his own bedroom is just a few steps away from yours,you have been struggling with sleeping peacefully cause he would blast music on his speaker at 2-3 am,you are almost confirmed that he must be doing it on purpose--and it doesn't end here,there is worse.

you are aware of a guy having 'needs' so the occasional echo of moaning could be heard to you from the thin paper walls,you swear that it's music to your ears and you feel like your mind is sabotaging you.he is annoying,that though didn't stopped you from having a weird desire rising in you for him,a pang on your chest with guilt for possessing the most unholy fantasizes whenever he would roam around in just a pair of sweatpants.

with all this being said,you produced a baffling bond with Matt,signs showing that he is on the same page as you,which leads you to today.laying down on your bed with your phone on your hands,stressfully ignoring his presence a few meters away.him entirely concentrated on his screen computer playing--God knows what--video games,with the controller on his hands.the silense more than unbearable.

you were determined to prove to yourself that maybe you can spend some time with him,you took advantage of him not wearing any headphones and lightly tapped his shoulder,pointing towards the black console afterwards "can i try?" you anticipated for his response,silently hoping that he doesn't mind.

Matt was kind of surpised by your request,nevertheless he had finished the round so he nodded "umh..sure" he slid off from the gaming chair while handing you the controller,your fingers barely brushing with his yet enough to make your head spinning.

you rested your body on the mesh fabric as he sat on the bed,and with a glance of the buttons you were clueless of the task in hand,not having any idea on how to participate in the online game.luckily,he noticed the confused look written on your face so he came next to you and started to make a fast learning lesson,

he taught you how to jump,how to run,how to kill,and other features you require to have in case of a proper match.as he did so,you caught him taking a few glimpses of your chest--it's not like he could help it,your crop top was exposing a certain amount of your cleavage,making it hard for him to focus.

a devilish smile curled to your face when you noticed,feeling bold enough to adjust down the shirt such as leaving only your breasts covered--matt could feel his heart beat raising,the temperature of the room turning thick once he stopped talking.

"can you show me how to jump again? i don't think i get it" you spoke,a hint of suggestiveness leaking from your tone--and he didn't want more than just to devour you right there, your father and his mother had left for shopping,so you were both totally alone which sent shivers down your back,

the tension bloomed into a insufferable feeling between the two of you,causing your breath to hitch around your throat,especially when you felt his fingers starting to touch yours fully in attempt to answer your previous 'request'.a hushed gasp breaking out from you when there was a unexpected hand gesture tracing your thigh in a agonizingly pace--screw this.

with a smooth shift of your face and waist you palmed his cheeks,bringing his lips to yours into a fiery dance.he didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth,impatiently exploring your taste before nipping down your bottom lip,eliciting a moan from you that get's shallowed against him,

the sound you made vibrated through matt's whole body,landing directly straight to his core and he could feel his jeans growing tight around his crotch,he didn't ever remembered himself getting hard from just a making out session--he craved more,he needed more,and so did you.

his hands started travelling their way to your stomach,crawling upwards until he squeezed your nipples over the fabric of your top and reaching to lift it up, "is this okay?" you nodded desperately at the question,he didn't wasted time by taking it off over your head,unclasping with one motion your bra afterwards to shower your bare chest with open-mouthed kisses,

your hums of approval soon turned into whimpers when he wrapped his mouth on the flesh of your left breast,swirling his tongue around it while his hand pinched the other between his free fingers,he repeated his actions by giving the same treatment to your right one after.

with a loud pop he pulled away,slowly reaching under the gaming chair so he is on his knees,his eye pupils half-lidded and fluttering over your face before he yanks off your shorts with panties,exposing your already wet dripping pussy to his hungry gaze,

"fuck you are soaked,how long have you been dreaming this? have you been waiting for me to finally pleasure you sweetheart?" you could him mutter cooing through gritted teeth,licking at your thighs in a intractable speed as he itches towards the arching spot in between your legs,lavishing his attention there as he made a long stripe up on your clit,making you buck your hips against his face shamelessly,

your nails found his hair,gripping and tugging on it for support,dragging a hiss from his mouth as he began to lap on your juices like you were his last meal,you started riding his face while whining pathetically,the obsence resounds filling the room as he continued to satisfy you.

his index finger rubbed your entrance,letting you shaking for more and barely hearing his gagged whispers "you taste so fucking amazing,such an intoxicating cunt",your lower abdomen started quivering into the familiar knot,reminding you of your approaching release,making you clench uncontrollably around his mouth,

"come on,finish all over face baby" matt sneered out when he sucked on robs of your pre-cum, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape in the same time you swirled your digits on his roots so his head is forced to be still there,with a long pornographic moan you erupted,spurting thick,white jets that made your legs glistening.

after pulling away he swooped you into his arms,carrying you bridal-style on the mattress of the bed,him laying down firstly before grasping your sides stronly,helping you to be on top of him as he guided your hips so you can push against his clothed erection,the sensation maddening for the both of you.

your still sensitive heat grinded back and forth,feeling his cock poking under you so your hands progress to tug the zipper of his jeans down,sliding them down along with his boxers to his ankles in a way of exposing his throbbing tip,you usually didn't liked how dicks looked but matt's was different; a needy tenderness to have it deep inside you,he adjusted with ease the head down your folds,and with no doubt you sinked down on his length.

a unbidden squeal slipped from you as he grunted repeatedly,his grunts turned into loud groans of pure filthiness as soon as you started bouncing yourself,your tight walls squelching him, sending him closer to the edge even though it hadn't passed a minute of you riding him,his back arching forward which gave you the opportunity of scratching down the skin of his behind shoulders,

"such a good girl,fucking yourself on your stepbrother's cock, such a whore f'me" his words actually made you feel pitiful yet encouraging your movements to speed up their pace,his hips thrusting up to meet yours so he can pound into your hole frequently, "c-close" you panted out,your second orgasm increasing through you as your walls clinged around him,the actions driving matt insane "going to fill you up,do you want that? do you want me to cum inside you?"

you miserably sobbed in bliss and let a ''hphm'' of approval,before you knew it matt had busted,his climax exploding extremely hard into your pussy,following suit after him with your head throwed back and stopping after a minute so you can pull yourself out of him,both of you being a panting mess,

"that was incredible" "i am never letting you to even enter my room again"

------------------------------------

evelyn speaks!! thank you so much for 250 followers jixijcmjg,my last post with Matt got more than 800 notes likeee insane,thank you ALL for the support it means everything xoxo🤍🤍

tags! @writtensturn @pixiespax @verywonderlandpolice @itsnotmariahh @user9383738392 @monroesturnns @badussybumper @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @shadowthesim

[submattenthusiast]

Okay so get this.

Sick!matt x sick!reader and you know how your body temp goes up a lot so like the coochies inside gets like extra warm. Yeah so like slow sick sex that's overheated omg like passing out hot😣

what's up with you sickies.

"fuck so warm" matt groaned as he slid into your pussy. even though both of you were sick it didn't stop you from having sex, you both were bored and horny so why not.

matt kept his thrusts slow but deep, hitting all the right places. his arms began to get weak causing him to fall on top of you. you both groaned at the collision. "matt" you sighed weakly. he rubbed your side as he softly spoke "sorry sorry lost balance"

matt settled into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along the warm skin. his kisses felt like fire against your skin, everytime he moved his lips you whimpered. you grabbed his sweaty locks as he moved around, guiding him to your sweet spot.

the room began to get stuffy as he fucked you, heavy breaths, moans, and whines filled the already contaminated air. sweat coated your bodies and stuck them together disgustingly but at the moment nothing bothered you. all you felt was him.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

we're in love - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.

Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.

You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.

It’s how you paid for college.

And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.

Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.

For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.

And then The Doctor found you.

No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.

He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.

You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.

Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.

About a month in, you started growing antlers.

At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.

On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.

At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.

But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.

How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?

Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.

Until The Doctor became cruel.

He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.

One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.

An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.

You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.

The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.

And that was that.

You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.

Which, of course, is where you met Matt.

With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.

And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.

Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.

He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.

One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor.  You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.

He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.

When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.

You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—

‘My Best Test Subject,

I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.

-The Doctor’

You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.

This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.

• • •

After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.

But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.

It all happens too fast—

In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.

He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.

He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.

“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.

Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.

• • •

When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.

You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.

You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.

But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.

Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.

“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”

Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.

“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”

“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”

“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”

“You’re going to kidnap more people.”

“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”

“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”

He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”

You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.

Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.

The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.

“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.

“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.

The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.

“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”

• • •

Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.

For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.

Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.

Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.

And Foggy has the most important job of all.

Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.

It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.

“What? What is it?”

“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”

The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.

“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.

“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”

“Where?” Matt asks.

“Red, just—”

“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.

“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.

“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.

• • •

Daredevil is my enemy.

Matt Murdock hates me.

I hate him.

We were never really in love with each other.

These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.

Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.

Maybe.

You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.

The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.

But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.

It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.

Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.

Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.

“I found you, I’ve got you…”

You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.

Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.

“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?

Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.

“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”

“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.

“Why was she—”

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.

• • •

If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.

Today is no different.

You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.

You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.

The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.

“How do you know my name?” You ask.

She frowns.

“It—Because we’re good friends.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”

“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”

Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.

There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.

He speaks next.

“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”

“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.

“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.

“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.

“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.

Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.

And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.

Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.

“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.

“I don’t know you.” You tell him.

Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.

“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”

“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.

“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”

You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.

Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.

“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?

“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.

“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.

“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”

Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.

“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.

It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.

“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.

You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..

Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.

Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.

“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”

He hesitates.

“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”

• • •

Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.

You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.

“You kept them?”

“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.

“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”

He shrugs gently.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

“And in torture and memory alteration.”

“Same thing.”

For the first time in six months, you smile.

Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.

You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.

• • •

Memories are a tricky thing.

You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.

One night, he brings home Thai Food.

“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.

“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.

“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.

“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.

But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.

“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”

“Why did you want to marry me?”

He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.

“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.

“Oh..”

“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”

You smile softly.

“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”

“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.

Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..

Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.

“Yeah..”

“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.

“Can you stay with me?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.

Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.

But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.

“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”

“Real.” He confirms.

“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”

“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”

You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.

“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”

“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.

You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.

• • •

The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.

Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.

It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:

‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’

Five minutes later, you get a response.

‘Real. Yours is sprite.’

You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.

Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.

“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.

“Do you like pesto?”

“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.

“So you do?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”

“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.

“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.

“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.

“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.

“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”

And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.

“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.

You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.

As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’

The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.

So you call Frank.

This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.

“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.

“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.

It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.

“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”

“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”

Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.

“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”

Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.

“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.

But he’ll never get that chance.

He hopes Matt does.

• • •

It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"

“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.

“You like them?”

“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”

He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.

“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”

Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.

Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.

“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.

“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”

You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.

The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.

“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.

The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.

“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.

“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” You tell him.

A comfortable silence fills the air again.

“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.

“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.

You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.

“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.

You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“Real.��

[allthesmutl0vers]

From the Ashes

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader x Regulus Black

(Dedication, Full-story content warnings, and Prologue)

Masterlist Summary/Moodboard Overall Vibe Song

Requests/Asks: OPEN

a/n: This story will be updated 2-3 times a week with multiple posts/parts. And this story, like my other stories, is multi-pov, all in first-person perspective, with use of (y/n), though, I do try to use it sparingly. And I want to reiterate that this is a dark romance, with morally grey/morally black mmc's.

I am not responsible for your media consumption. You have been warned.

(Let me know if you want a playlist link in the comments.)

Full-Story Content Warnings:

(This is the complete list for any and all triggers within this entire story. Each part will have a briefer list of the triggers within that part.)

Mentions of death and loss

Mentions of mental illness (Suicidal thoughts and tendencies, anxiety, depression, survivor’s guilt, nightmares, insomnia, repressed emotions, internalized rage, self-harm(having reckless sex), and drug & alcohol abuse(weed, ecstasy, alcohol, cocaine)) 

Obsessed MMCs (No, like, they’re fucking psychotic, one of them especially)

Stalking (Breaking and entering, notes, gifts(both good and bad- you’ll see what I mean), and anonymous text messages)

Kidnapping and torture (Cut off appendages)

Death

Knife kink/Knife play

Blood play

Permanent branding

Temp play

Snowballing

Double penetration

Oral sex (Male and female receiving and giving) 

Anal sex

Dominant/Submissive relationship

Primal play

Masked men

Wand play

Bondage

Praise and degradation

Sex toys (Vibrators, butt-plugs, nipple clamps, you get the gist)

Damn, you’re still here? Alright then.

Be a good slut and keep fuckin’ reading for me, yeah?

Dedication

To those of us whose light only shines in the darkness of the abyss,

Mattheo Riddle and Regulus Black will take good care of you.

Prologue

~Y/n~

There’s a feeling you get after battle when the dust finally settles, and you’re wondering how in the hell you’re still alive. Part of you wants to hold on to that moment, the moment when there is a sliver of hope that everyone you care about is still alive. It’s like a dream, and you’re not sure what is real and what isn’t.

Then you wake up.

The scent of blood, soot, and victory lingers in the air like a heavy blanket. A victory hard fought and sorely won. I look down at my hands, the hands that once did homework and held hands with my friends in the castle that is now crumbled and destroyed. Covered in a mixture of blood and sweat, but no tears stain my cheeks. 

Have I not cried this entire time?

I suppose there’s no time to, not when you’re in the middle of a battle. Not when you’re desperately fending off Death Eaters as you help a group of first years escape, saving as many as you can and having to kill in front of them to save their lives. And certainly not when you’re dragging a third year off of their dead best friend’s body in order to pull them the safety, listening to them scream in protest.

I force myself to look away from my hands and down to the bottom of my shirt, also covered in blood.

My blood. Shit, I’m bleeding. 

I lift the hem of my shirt a few inches, and yup. There it is, a gash on my hip, nothing too bad, at least, not that I can feel yet. 

“Y/n!”

I push down my shirt and turn my head toward the direction where I hear my name coming from. Locking eyes with two sets of brown eyes just as Aurors are dragging them away from the rubble that was once our school. 

“Mattheo. Regulus.” Their names fall from my lips in a whisper barely audible, even to my ears. 

“Y/n!” Mattheo calls out for me once more, and I take a small step towards them, then another, and another until I’m sprinting across what used to be the courtyard. 

“Matt! Reg!” I call out, running towards my best friends in a daze as if my body is moving of its own accord. Seeing them being shoved into the back of a flying carriage for the Ministry of Magic. 

Two arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back and holding me like steel bands. “Let them go, y/n,” Seamus’s voice barely registers in my ears as I pull at his wrists, desperately attempting to pry them off of me.

“Get off me! They’re taking them away!” I protest, my heart pounding as I see the carriage door slam shut, sealing Mattheo and Regulus inside before it flies away.

Seamus spins me around, his hands heavy on my shoulders as he looks into my eyes, his face covered with soot and dried blood around a cut on his cheek. “Listen to me. They’re gone; they made their choice,” his voice is firm and heavy with finality, his eyes begging me to see reason.

I shake my head fervently, my mind racing with a million ideas on how to break them out, regardless of their crimes. “They’re my best friends, I can’t abandon them, they would—”

“This is what they did, y/n!” Seamus motions to the rumble of Hogwarts behind him and the bodies being hauled away into vehicles to go… wherever they’re going next. “Don’t tell me what they would do. We’re looking right fucking at it,” his words are harsh and blunt, hitting me deep in my gut, knocking the air from my lungs all over again. 

His chest rises and falls deeply as his other hand drops from my shoulder and runs through his short hair. “I’m sorry, but that’s the reality of the situation,” his tone softens slightly, and he looks down at me. “Come on, let's get that checked out,” he nods to my hip, the blood seeping through my shirt. 

“Ms. Waters?” A ministry official stops me on my way out of the medical tent. His crisp and clean suit feels like an insult to the blood-stained ground we’re standing on. “I have some questions I need to ask you regarding a few criminals that you know,” he continues when I don’t respond, his words clipped as if I’m just as guilty as them.

I clench my jaw, my eyes narrowing slightly as I look up at him. “I have nothing to say,” I try to hide the disdain in my voice, but it’s hard. The idea to say fuck it and break my best friends out of the ministry crosses my mind once more, and I have to force myself to think of something, anything else. 

His lips purse in a tight line, and his gaze pierces into mine as if he is seeing right through me. The corner of his mouth curls up into a cruel smile, and his eyes harden as he leans in, his voice coming out lowly and laced with contempt and hatred.

“I think we both know that isn’t exactly the case, is it? The blood spilled on these grounds is all your fault, after all.”

Part One - Coming Friday 🤞🏻🫣

[witchygagirlwrites]

Fix You-Part 1

Kelly Severide x Reader x Matt Casey/ Sevasey x Reader

You get sent to Firehouse fifty one as a temporary placement when a paramedic is needed. Your first day you meet the house Captain and Rescue Squad Lieutenant.

“Where’s your placement?” your sister asked as you balanced your phone between your ear and shoulder, trying to gather everything you needed to get out of the door. “Firehouse fifty one. They need a new partner for Brett after Dawson moved. I’ve worked with the rig in passing but this will pretty much be my first time working with the truck or rescue squad” you told her as you rushed out of your apartment, locking the door behind yourself.

You’d met with Chief Boden already along with Sylvie Brett but when you’d met with the two of them it had only been them. Today would be your official introduction as a temporary member of the house. You knew most of the firemen by name and face at the very least but you would be there for ten months. You’d hopefully build at least a few friendships.

You parked your truck across the street where Boden told you it was ok then grabbed your gear and headed over to the station house. Sylvie spotted you and stepped out of the bays to meet you halfway “Hey Y/N” you grinned “Sylvie! Glad you’re here already. I would’ve hated to walk into this without at least one friendly face at my side” she laughed and slipped her arm through yours “They’re not that bad, really”

You raised an eyebrow and she shrugged “Ok, well they’re not worse than any other house” you laughed “Now that I believe”

The two of you walked into the bays and you spotted a few men sitting around a table, one in a freaking recliner. “Who’s the grandpa?” you asked without thinking about it and when he turned around you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you. It was Squad Three Lieutenant Kelly Severide. A grin slipped onto his face as he stood up to face you “Who’s the spitfire Brett?”

You recovered from the embarrassment fast enough to smirk “Spitfire huh? I kinda like that. Name’s Y/N. I’m the temp paramedic here as a partner for Brett until Boden finds someone who’s a fit” he nodded as you held your hand out. He shook it then winked at you “Think I’ll stick with Spitfire, suits ya just fine” 

Matt Casey, the house Captain, walked out behind him and put a hand on his shoulder “Is this idiot bothering you ladies?” you shook your head “My fault really, I called him a grandpa” 

A grin split Matt’s face at that as he cut his eyes at Kelly, affectionately running his hand over the other man’s grey hair “Grandpa huh?” “Don’t you dare babe” Kelly replied then nodded at you “This is Y/N, the temp para but I think we’re gonna call her spitfire”

Matt looked back at you “Spitfire?” you shrugged “I like it” he nodded “Then it’s settled. Sylvie will show you around, get you a locker. If you need anything feel free to holler at me or Kelly” you nodded “Thanks”

Within about a week or two  you were on a first name basis with everyone you were on shift with and knew everyone who worked out of the station house. It was a family of sorts and even though you were only a visitor they were welcoming you in with no hesitation. 

“Why are you working as a temp?” Cruz asked one day when all of you were picking at breakfast before any calls had come in. You shrugged and sipped the coffee in your hands “Haven’t really found a house that fits me. This way I’m still doing what I love and helping houses that need it in the meantime” Kelly leaned back from where he was sitting across the room next to Matt and you knew the moment he grinned he was about to tease you “So you’re a stray sniffing around for a home?” 

Matt slapped him behind the head then looked at you “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to house train him for years but it hasn’t taken” you laughed as Kelly rubbed his head and cut his eyes at his boyfriend. “It’s fine Matt, he isn’t wrong really”  “Think you may stay here?” Sylvie asked and you shrugged, feeling very much like you were in the hot seat “I don’t know yet. I mean I like working here so far but it’s a little too soon to tell”

Matt met your eyes and you knew he could tell you were uncomfortable because he cleared his throat “That’s enough with the twenty questions” you shot him a small smile as a thank you as everyone turned their attention back to their food or other conversations. 

A call rang out for a structure fire needing the truck, rescue and ambulance so everyone was on their feet and in motion, any semblance of breakfast long forgotten as you headed for the bays. 

You ran past Matt and smiled “Thanks for that” he nodded so you hurried to hop into the driver’s seat of the rig as he ran to the truck and Kelly ran to the rescue squad. Sylvie cut her eyes at you as you fell into the line of vehicles as they pulled out onto the road “I think you’ll end up staying”  You laughed lightly “That you thinking or hoping Brett?” She shrugged “Little bit of both?”

You walked into your apartment and considered for a second just crashing across your couch instead of making it to your bed but your phone chimed with a text from Sylvie We’re going to Mollys. You in?

You were tired but it was a friday and you were off the next two days…screw it. You texted back Meet ya in twenty? And she replied See you there!

____________________________

You walked into Mollys and spotted Sylvie sitting with a few women from med and the twenty first so you headed towards her. You smiled when Kim Burgess greeted you “How’s fifty one treating you?” you cut your eyes at Sylvie then nodded “Best partner I’ve had yet” and Sylvie grinned broadly. You looked around “Where is the rest of your unit Burgess?” she shrugged “Adam is currently retrieving our drinks, we got you one too. Jay and Mouse are over there in a booth with Fireball” she nodded and you saw the men in question with their girlfriend. You knew Fireball well, she was a trauma nurse at Chicago med. One of the best you’d seen. Probably from her time as a combat medic, from what you’d gathered that was how the three of them had met.

“Where’s the other two?” you asked and she grinned “Kevin has a date with that new nurse from med that just moved here from scotland and Firecracker stayed in tonight with Will and Connor”  you nodded as Adam made it back to the table carrying the drinks and passed them out, shooting you a smile “Here ya go spitfire. If it’s not right, blame your partner” you laughed “It’s fine Adam. A free drink is a free drink. Especially one I know I can trust”

____________________

You and Sylvie had Adam and Kim laughing about a call you responded to where a frat guy got his head caught in a stair railing. “He was breathing fine, not in distress but I swear it reminded me of something that would’ve happened in a movie from the eighties” you laughed around your drink.

You’d only drink two with alcohol then switched to soda but the company was good so you were still enjoying the night out. “There’s our medics” you heard Matt’s voice and cut your eyes up with a smile “Captain” he shook his head “We’re not at work, just call me Matt” you nodded “Ok Matt” Kelly grinned at you from next to him “And you always call me Kelly anyways” you laughed “That’s cause Matt always acts like a captain. You only act like a lieutenant when we’re actively on a call”

They nodded to the table “Can we join you four?” you shrugged and looked around. Sylvie shrugged and Adam patted the table “Sure” Kelly went to grab them drinks as Matt sat down next to you. “So, spitfire, how long is your contract for anyways?” you grinned “Trying to get rid of me already?” he raised an eyebrow so you grinned “Ten months unless I put in a request to stay. Boden said I’d have that option as soon as six months hit”

Sylvie gasped “You did not tell me that” you grinned “Because I don’t want the twenty question game to start back up” Matt shook his head “It won’t. I won’t let it” “Thank you” you replied and turned back to your previously abandoned conversation with Sylvie and Kim as Matt started talking to Adam then Kelly came back over and joined their conversation as well. Maybe you could find a place at Fifty one? 

It was still a little soon to tell but it was starting to feel like home already.

@desimarie12

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Unexpected visitor (Matt Murdock x reader)

note: WHEN I SAY THUS TOOK FOREVER I MEAN IT ITS FINALLY DONE

warning ⚠️: injuries, Matt in pain, mentioned kidnapping, amazing reader, fluff and angst, a bit long

(takes place in season one) Crash! I hear my plants pot fall and the pictures on the wall shattered. I jolt awake at the noise. What could cause that noise in Hell’s Kitchen at 3 am? Only one answer a robber. Stupid! I’m so stupid! I had left the fire escape window open to temp in some cool air on this summer’s night. Well it had worked my apartment was filled with the crisp night air and all its smells. However I should no by now to not leave my window open during the night in Hell’s Kitchen. But the place was so hot and muggy I couldn’t stand it. I tentatively creep out of the comfort of my bedroom. I grab a book as a makeshift weapon incase I need it. I cross to the living space and with all the courage I could muster flipping the light switch on. And nothing could have prepared me for this sight…..

The devil on Hell’s Kitchen was bleeding out in my living room. Gasping desperately for air his blood seeping into the carpet.

now you had heard tales of the man in the mask, many tales in face from the news. They say he’s a terrioist that he blew up those buildings and shot those cops. Personally I didn’t believe that, he was the devil the city needed. Police don’t do anything there all in someone’s pocket though I don’t know exactly who yet. When my little sister got kidnapped by human traffickers we did everything we could with the police. We filed for a missing person and searched and searched but they said that there is nothing they could do. We knew that wasn’t true. They could have done something! They could have helped her! But nobody helped her nobody but the devil. She showed up at our doorstep one night saying that she had been saved by a man with a mask covering his eyes. In a dark suit but she had said that he had beat up her kidnappers and left her unscathed he had saved my sister. The man in the mask, the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, bleeding out on your carpet.

(third person-ish)

She rushed to his side kneeling down next to him, not caring about the bloody situation. She was a nurse after all. There was a long gash across his side it was so deep you could see the bone. “n-no hospitals”

the mystery man croaks out. Well at least you knew he was still conscious and you had no time to argue.You put pressure on the wound to stop it from bleeding out at first. He let out a sudden cry of pain that broke your heart. Even though you didn’t fully know him yet you feel somehow responsible for him and to care for him he had saved your sister afterall. You gently pulled off his mask to see whose life you were saving to see who you were saving and exactly how bad the damage was. A gasp leaves your mouth. His face was nothing as you had expected. He had chestnut brown fluffy hair, his beautiful hazel eyes were….unsighted?

was he blind? He looks almost…angelic

his face though covered in blood struck you with how beautiful it was. It wasn’t intimidating as it was with the mask on. As scary he was with it on beating up criminals it surprised you how vulnerable he looked. Covered in blood and confused sightless eyes darting around as you gently lifted his eyes up. (Like in the gif) he looked almost like a puppy who’s been kicked to many times. Your heartbeat quickened a considerable amount and you saw him slightly tilt his head to the side and groans at the movement.

“Don’t move” you hushed in a gentle tone. “This is going to hurt a lot but I need to clean the wound”

you unscrew the rubbing alcohol and wet the gauze with the substance a considerable amount. He grits his teeth in anticipation. I started cleaning the wound pouring more rubbing alcohol, he lets out an agonized scream. His back arches off the floor slightly in pain abs flexing. You then start the process of stitches….

——/

“shh shh” you soothe him as soon as your done. Caressing his face and brushing his hair out of his face a thin layer of cold sweat had come over his body. His hair had stuck to his forehead and you pushed it back away. He leaned into your touch like a man starved, savoring the feeling.

how long has it been since he’s been touched like this? It must have been ages. Hes so much more beautiful than I could have imagined

“it’s over now. It’s over it’s ok, “ you keep stroking his face.

he looks up at you with desperation in his eyes. “T-thank you.”

He manages with a quivering voice. But even so you can tell he’s very grateful. You scratch his chin lightly and he hums in pleasure.

“your so brave, you risk your life saving our city. Take so much pain. No one forced you to do that. Your so brave—“

“Matthew” he tries to prop himself up on his elbows but instead cries out in pain “or Matt” he chuckles bitterly clutching his side.

“y/n l/n” you say pleased to know the strangers name, it was a show of trust. “And than answers my next question of weither you can stand” you put your hand on your hips still kneeling at his side looking at this beautiful man. His eyes shut in pain.

“Matthew” you cooed in a voice and sweet as honey. In Matt’s mind the sugary voice engulfed him for hours in his pained state it was like a line in a storm. His eyelids fluttered open. She stroked his hair and went down to scratch his slightly bloody stubble. He let out a small moan almost unable to hear it but it was there. He leaned into her touch placing his weight of his head on your hand. You keep scratching his stubble as you ask your next question. “Are you blind Matthew?” You ask tentatively not knowing if it’s a touchy subject.

”yes i am” he breathes out

poor thing he must be in so much pain

“how are you fighting then?” You still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“there are other ways to see” he smirks but the little gesture even seems to take energy out of him.

“Well who did this to you?” You put your hands on your hips. He doesn’t answer his eyes are screwed shut. Then suddenly his body goes limp and his head falls back on the pillow. “Matthew! Matt?” You quickly check his pulse and breathe a sigh of relief. He wasn’t dead. He must have passed out from the pain. You get off your knees and stand up. He didn’t deserve this. None of this. He’s helping people. And he certainly doesn’t deserve to be on your couch if you were in that much pain you’d know that you would want to atleast be on a bed. So with determination you start to carry his body. You struggle to get him off the couch a bit but eventually you scoop him up, and half carry half drag him to your bedroom. Normally having a man this attractive in your bedroom would be a good thing but you can hardly celebrate how much pain he’s in. You hoist him up onto the bed pushing his feet on. Carefully taking his boots off and setting them on the ground. Then tucking him in with your softest blankets and comforter. You’ll sleep on the couch Tonight he deserves this bed more than you. Thinking about anything else he need you set a glass of water on the nightstand.

I’ll tend to his other needs in the morning

you think before taking a blanket and pillow and retiring to the couch for the night.

——-

when Matt wakes up he is immediately aware of a few things. He’s tucked in to a soft bed with a comforter. The scent of something cooking fills the air. And there is an awful throbbing pain in his side. He feels so warm he doesn’t want to leave. He can’t put his finger on it but he feels like he’s being comforted, like he’s safe, like someone took care of him. He opens his eyes just for convenience not to see obviously and hones his senses in. Hes on a bed not his own he knows he doesn’t have a comforter this soft and fluffy. Tentatively he touches his side, it’s stitched up neatly and cleaned it doesn’t seem to be infected. Then a collage of scent hit his nose. Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes and orange juice. He blinks rubbing his face to see if he smelled that right, sometimes when he’s hurt his senses don’t work as intended. But he did. He sits up with a wince to his side. And a woman’s form hurries to him from the kitchen and sets down a tray on the side table

“Jesus woman, your an angel” he says rubbing his side

“didn’t know what to make” plus you stress cook a lot “would do that if I were you, could irritate the wound”

“You saw my face that, you shouldn’t have—” he says stopping rubbing his side

“should I have let you die!? No. Eat.” You firmly say, basically an order. Pushing the food towards him and he scarfs it down. Matt didn’t realize how hungry he was. Many time more than often he forgets how to take care of himself. You eat your plate of food alongside him.

her food is heavenly. Matt thought. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’s had a home cooked meal like this. Finally you break the silence after your both done eating

“I didn’t expect you to be blind. Going around fighting criminals blindly. That either means you’re very brave or very foolish.” You state matter of factly

he gives a devilish smirk “do I have to pick one?”

you chuckled and your heart fluttered a little bit, for a man who had been bleeding out last night he was surprisingly charming

“I like you already Matt”

the day goes on as you let him stay there and insist he rests. The both of you talk not about his personal life of course, he’s so mysterious he won’t let you know anything else. He says that he’s already made a mistake telling you his name and blames his bloody delirious state for that. But at the end of the day he’s well enough to be upright and as soon as that happens he wants to go.

“I don’t want to endanger you angel” he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve already been to much of burder” though the touch was relatively friendly it feels electric, your heart beats incredibly fast.

“you help a lot of people, if you ever need a nurse again or just want to visit don’t be afraid to slip in” she chuckles a bit, trying to make lightheartedness even though it felt like your heart was beating out of you chest. strangely, he tilts his head to the side as you do so but he decides to not comment, strangely you get the feeling he somehow Knows how attractive you think he is. Before putting on his mask that cover his eyes he steps towards you and puts his hand under your chin.

“I hope one day we can meet up without me being hurt” he says with a slight humor. Then he leans in and kisses me. I waste absolutely no time in reciprocating. His plump pretty lips move against mine in tandem easily his tongue traces my bottom lip asking for permission and I let it slip in moaning as he does so. There is no question of Matthew Murdocks experience finally he pulls away and you know he has somewhere to go

his tongue darts out to lick his lips he feels the taste of your lips on it but the action looks like it’s second nature. “I have to go” he puts on his mask and now he’s fully in his “man in black” “devil of Hell’s Kitchen” getup. “I’ll be back…eventually” and he opens the window and slips through the window sill and onto the fire escape and into the now; night. When he slipped through the window sill and bent over you had seen just a little of his back as his too tight shirt rose up. The sight and thought alone made you shiver with arousal. And then mysterious man went into the night

[sageispunk]

Kinktober 2023

inspired from @flightlessangelwings promptlist <333

banner by @the-purity-pen !!!

this is my first kinktober so i hope it goes as planned, each fic will have it's own individual warnings so be sure to read through those (and my blog guidelines) before proceeding!! if you enjoy any of these, please like and reblog!!! my masterlist is here :3 (**- missed but will come back to)

DAY 1: love bites + overstim + impact play 

DAY 2: bath/shower

DAY 3: exhibitionism (joel miller x reader)

DAY 4: sex pollen + thigh riding + forced orgasm (max phillips x reader)

DAY 5: table sex + sensory deprivation + threesome (steve rodgers/bucky barnes x reader)

DAY 6: sexting/phone sex (matt murdock x reader)

DAY 7: slow and soft + spanking (javier peña x reader) **

DAY 8: temp play (joel miller x reader)

DAY 9: pegging (frankie morales x reader)

DAY 10: stripping + anal + double penetration (frankie morales/santi garcia x reader) **

DAY 11: seduction + blindfold (tommy miller x reader) **

DAY 12: gun play (joel miller x reader)

DAY 13: body worship + being recorded (frank castle x reader) **

DAY 14: tit/nipple play (benny miller x reader)

Week Two -- updated the list (10/14) to make it a lil easier for me

DAY 15: against wall + size kink + free use (richie j x reader)

DAY 17: praise kink + rimming (dieter bravo x reader)

DAY 18: masturbation + squirting (joel miller x reader)

DAY 19: voyeurism + handjob + somno (santiago garcia x reader)

DAY 21: hate sex + piercings (bucky barnes x reader)

Week Three

DAY 23: dirty talk + begging (javi pena x reader)

DAY 24: lingerie + edging (dieter bravo x reader)

DAY 25: mirror sex + breeding (sam wilson x reader)

DAY 26: face sitting + deepthroating + choking (richie j x reader)

DAY 28: intercrural sex + blowjobs (tommy miller x reader)

Week Four

DAY 29: fingering + gagging + creampie (frank castle x reader)

DAY 30: cunnilingus + breathplay (santiago garcia x reader)

DAY 31: FREE SPACE (will be updated hehe 😉)

[thebisexualdogdad]

John Constantine x male!reader x Zatanna Zatara headcanons

*Matt Ryan as Constantine and Jade Tailor as Zatanna*

● 3 magicians/occultists sure make for a hell of an interesting relationship

● traveling around the world keeping the paranormal and supernatural at bay

● and always enjoying a good drink at the end of the day

● or before noon if it's just that kind of day

● which it often is because exorcisms can take a lot out of you

● going to Zatanna's magic shows and proudly cheering her on from the front row

● and always volunteering yourselves when she asks for audience participation

● John still gets a kick whenever she cuts him half

● when you or John annoy Zatanna she just casually drops a spell to turn you guys into rabbits

● "what did we do this time??"

● "you guys ate my leftovers again that I clearly labeled were mine!"

● Zatanna also has to stop you and John from doing stupid shit like when you drunkenly dare each other to try on doctor fates helmet

● "come on Z we weren't really gonna do it… again"

● Zatanna is extremely protective of her boys

● you've seen a lot of scary demons in your day but none are more terrifying than Zatanna when you or John are in danger

● John taking you and Zatanna to punk shows

● Zatanna pushing John into a mosh pit as a joke but he actually had a blast

● "bloody hell loves did you see that! That was awesome!!"

● stealing John's trench coat to mess with him

● "I would be mad because no one touches my coat but damn do you look good in it"

● and then one time you did a spell to swap John's and Zatannas outfit

● John was loving it "I mean it's a little tight on the boys but my ass sure looks good" he says as he's proudly checking himself out

● you've been banned from pretty much every movie theater because of John talking during the movie

● "he's the killer it's so obvious" he says as he throws popcorn at the screen

● "how can I be disturbing the other guests when this movie is bloody garbage!" He yells as you three are being escorted out by the usher

● it's not uncommon for one of you to find your partners surrounded by old books

● "what are we dealing with this time?"

● "not sure yet but in the last month there's been four mysterious deaths in Louisiana that we need to go check out"

● "I'll call Abby to see if she and alec can meet up with us, maybe they've heard something"

● "not that bloke again, he smells like a damn swamp"

● "John..."

● taking turns on who gets to be in the middle when you sleep

● but John always has to be the little spoon

● he refuses to be anything but the little spoon especially after sex

● and damn is the sex good

● using spells to make sex last all night long

● along with magically enhanced sex toys

● like self binding scarves

● magical wax that alternates between being hot and cold for the ultimate temp play

● or John being able to feel you inside him while you're fucking Zatanna

● Zatanna chanting spells that makes your bed float into the air

● you and John are sure to keep Zatanna thoroughly satisfied

● and Zatanna knows her way around a strap whenever she's in the mood to top you two

● John loves it when he gets a good pounding from both you and Zatanna

● and he will happily take one of you in his mouth while the other rails his ass

● lots of adrenaline filled sex after jobs go wrong and one of you nearly dies

● and pulling over to the side of the road to have sex in your car mid road trip to your next job after two of you have been fooling around in the backseat or one of you teasing the driver from the passenger seat

● so much sex around your magical safehouse in Atlanta

● which occasionally results in the unleashing of evil spirits when you accidentally knock over an mystical artifact

● "Oh that could have been really bad"

● "yeah we really dodged a bullet there but can you get back to going down on me now"

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 99% texts. established relationships? the most basic plot idea everrrr bc I watched The Idea Of You before watching a playoffs match. PART 1. 3.5k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I had just gotten home and sprawled out on my apartment's couch, letting Netflix autoplay something random after finishing Brooklyn Nine-Nine again. My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024Today, 3:16 PM UNKNOWN: Alley said she tried to call you, text me when you're on the way to the rink.

My phone buzzed again.

Today, 3:42 PM UNKNOWN: Steph?

Today, 4:01 PM UNKNOWN: Are you on your way or not?

I glanced at my phone, seeing another message from the unknown number. Smirking slightly, typing a quick response.

ME: Not Steph, good luck finding your girlfriend.

I tossed my phone aside and settled deeper into the couch, trying to distract myself from the uninspired short story I had been working on. Hours passed, and I still hadn’t made any progress. The story was just another tall tale that could easily end with "and then I woke up," and at this rate, it might.

My phone buzzed again, and I groaned before reaching for it.

Today, 12:19 AM UNKNOWN: Gross. I was looking for my sister.

I sighed, feeling slightly amused.

ME: Okay? Hope you found her. UNKNOWN: I'm sorry to have bothered you, I realise the area code is wrong.

With nothing better to do, I found myself replying, curiosity piqued.

ME: 212, Manhattan. Nice area, rich boy charm. UNKNOWN: Not really rich, or much charm. But boy, yes. 619, where's that? ME: San Diego.

A pause. I put my phone down, trying to focus back on my assignment, but the ping of a new message distracted me.

UNKNOWN: I'm guessing you're just as bored as I am right now. ME: Definitely bored, that is correct. UNKNOWN: So San Diego, what’s keeping you awake that’s so boring? ME: Nothing much, Manhattan. Just assignments. But it’s only 12:30 here, isn’t it 3 AM in NY? UNKNOWN: That would be correct. ME: Then what’s keeping YOU awake? UNKNOWN: Won my hockey game, went to celebrate, and now I’m just sitting here.

I chuckled, intrigued by the late-night conversation.

ME: Hockey? Do you play for a college team or just for fun?

There was a long pause, a stark contrast to the quick replies earlier.

MANHATTAN: Yeah, I do college hockey. ME: Nice, what position? I don’t know LOTS about hockey or anything, but I'm friends with some guys on the SDSU team. MANHATTAN: Haha, right wing. But really, I just rough people up 💪 ME: Oh cool! (no clue what a right wing does) MANHATTAN: Then what position does your boyfriend play?

I raised an eyebrow, feeling the conversation shift.

ME: I never said that word. MANHATTAN: And I'm just checking. You are a girl, right? I’m not about to hit on a 50-year-old man.

I laughed, surprised by his forwardness.

ME: You’re about to hit on me? Are you meant to tell me that? MANHATTAN: Probably not, but I had a few drinks a bit ago so I can blame it on the alcohol if it goes wrong. ME: Yes, I am a girl. MANHATTAN: Wonderful, now that I know you're not trying to lure me into your mother's basement so you can use my skin as your new rug, can I get your name?

I smirked, enjoying the playful tone.

ME: Whoa, never said anything about NOT making a new rug. I kind of like the whole Manhattan & San Diego anonymous thing we have happening. MANHATTAN: Hmm, I guess so. A secret identity might not be the best move though. ME: Are you sure you want to risk it? Might say something regrettable since it’s 4 AM for you now. MANHATTAN: But it's only 1 AM for you, so it’s a risk I’ll take ;)

I smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity.

ME: Exactly how many strangers do you text like this? MANHATTAN: If I say only 1 will that make you feel special? ME: So you just go around contacting random numbers in hopes they’re girls your age so you can try to knock their socks off? MANHATTAN: You catch on fast, San Diego.

I rubbed my eyes, getting off the couch, typing as I walked through my small apartment. I passed my roommate’s bedroom, noticing her snoring with her phone still looping the last TikTok she’d been watching.

As I reached my room, I took off my hoodie and left my phone on my bed, watching for the next message.

ME: So, tell me about your hockey match. MANHATTAN: Well… I actually got ejected so I didn’t do much. ME: Ahh, a ruffian. MANHATTAN: All I did was elbow a guy! ME: In the face? MANHATTAN: No comment. ME: While going really fast on knife shoes? MANHATTAN: I said no comment, San Diego 😠😠 But yes. I may have a little notoriety for… enforcing. ME: How many fights does college hockey have? Oh wow. MANHATTAN: I think that's enough of my sports career. Tell me about you. ME: About me? MANHATTAN: I want to know about you. I mean it, tell me something.

I hesitated, then smiled.

ME: Um, I can't think of anything… I just got into bed. MANHATTAN: Then you should go, San Diego, get some rest. Nice chatting with you (and I'll text you later in the day if that's alright). ME: Bye, Manhattan 👋 (and I wouldn't be opposed).

I placed my phone on the nightstand, my thoughts lingering on the unexpected connection as I drifted off to sleep.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I woke up to a new text message, my groggy eyes struggling to adjust to the brightness of my phone screen.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024today 10:32am MANHATTAN: Morning, San Diego! Did you sleep well?

I smiled at the message, feeling a little flutter in my chest. I hadn’t expected him to actually text me again, but here he was.

ME: Morning! I did, thanks 😊 How about you? Finally got some sleep after your 4 am texting spree? MANHATTAN: Eventually, yeah. Slept in a bit, but now I’m back at it. MANHATTAN: Classes and all that. ME: Fun times… What’s your major? MANHATTAN: Business. It’s alright, but hockey’s the real passion. You? ME: English, hence my very exciting letter-writing assignment 🙄 MANHATTAN: Ah, right. The one you’re totally not procrastinating on. ME: Exactly! I’m just waiting for inspiration to hit. MANHATTAN: Maybe I can help with that.

I raised an eyebrow at the screen, intrigued.

ME: Oh yeah? You’re a secret writing genius, Mr. Hockey? MANHATTAN: Hardly. But I’m good at roughing up boring ideas. Give me a shot. What’s the assignment again? ME: I have to write a long letter. Could be to anyone about anything… It's supposed to show off my writing skills. MANHATTAN: How about a letter to a stranger? Like some random person you met by mistake… 👀

I laughed, seeing where he was going with this.

ME: Sounds like something I’d do. Maybe I’ll take you up on that. MANHATTAN: If you need material, I can keep sending you nonsense texts. You know, for inspiration. ME: Careful, I might just put all your deepest, darkest secrets into my assignment. MANHATTAN: Bold of you to assume I have any secrets, San Diego. ME: Everyone has secrets, Manhattan.

There was a pause before he responded, the three little dots appearing and disappearing a few times. I wondered what he was thinking or if I’d said something to make him hesitate.

MANHATTAN: Guess you’ll have to keep talking to me to find out 😉 ME: Smooth. Real smooth. MANHATTAN: It’s part of my so-called charm. So, what’s your day looking like? ME: Not much, honestly. Maybe I’ll hit the library, try to get some work done. MANHATTAN: Or you could do something fun instead. Life’s too short to spend all day in the library. ME: Fun? What do you suggest? MANHATTAN: Well, if you were in Manhattan, I’d say we go skating. But since you’re all the way over there… What do people even do for fun in San Diego? ME: I could go to the beach… but it’s not really the best weather for it today. MANHATTAN: Rainy? ME: Just cloudy, kind of chilly. The ocean looks a bit gloomy when it’s like this. MANHATTAN: Gloomy beaches, sounds like a whole vibe. Maybe that’s your inspiration. A letter to the ocean or something. ME: You really think a letter to the ocean will get me a passing grade? MANHATTAN: If you write it well enough, why not? Make it all deep and meaningful. Professors eat that stuff up. ME: Haha, I’ll think about it. Anyway, what about you? Any big plans? MANHATTAN: Just practice later, then probably hanging out with the team. Nothing too exciting. ME: Sounds like a solid day. Try not to get ejected this time. MANHATTAN: No promises. Gotta keep my reputation, you know? ME: Right, the tough guy. I’ll keep that in mind. MANHATTAN: But I’m a softie at heart, San Diego. Don’t let the hockey fool you. ME: Noted. Maybe I’ll write that in my letter. “To the boy who’s tough on the ice but soft underneath…” MANHATTAN: Now you’re getting it. Make me sound mysterious. ME: Mysterious, huh? I’ll see what I can do.

I was grinning now, the banter flowing easily between us. There was something about this random stranger that made me feel lighter, like maybe today wasn’t going to be so dull after all.

ME: Alright, I should actually get ready if I’m going to do anything productive today. But thanks for the distraction, Manhattan. MANHATTAN: Anytime, San Diego. I’ll text you later? ME: Looking forward to it.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I was curled up on my couch, a mug of tea warming my hands as I absentmindedly scrolled through my phone. The past month had flown by, and my unexpected friendship with 'Manhattan' had become a regular part of my routine. We’d been texting nearly every day, sharing snippets of our lives, random thoughts, and plenty of playful banter. But lately, something had shifted—his messages had taken on a more flirty tone, and, honestly, I didn’t mind it.

My phone buzzed, and I smiled when his contact name popped up on the screen.

Friday, April 12, 2024today 8:45pm MANHATTAN: What’s up, San Diego? Missing me yet?

I couldn’t help but grin at his words. He’d been dropping little hints like this more and more, and each time, it sent a little thrill through me.

ME: Why would I miss you? We just talked this morning 😏 MANHATTAN: I don’t know, you tell me. Maybe you’re secretly counting down the hours until you hear from me again. ME: Oh, totally. I’m just sitting here pining away. MANHATTAN: Knew it. You can’t resist my charm. ME: Your ego is something else, you know that? MANHATTAN: Only because you feed it. Anyway, what’s the plan for tonight? Any hot dates?

I felt a little flutter in my chest at the question, even though I knew he was probably just teasing.

ME: Just me, myself, and I tonight. Super exciting. MANHATTAN: That’s a shame. If I were in San Diego, I’d take you out somewhere nice. ME: Oh yeah? Where would you take me, Mr. Big City? MANHATTAN: Somewhere with a view, good food, and even better company. ME: Wow, smooth talker. Do you use this line on all the girls? MANHATTAN: Only the ones who accidentally text me back 😉

I laughed, shaking my head at his response.

ME: Lucky me, I guess. MANHATTAN: I think I’m the lucky one here.

I paused, reading the message again, feeling my cheeks warm slightly. There it was again—that flirty edge that had been creeping into his texts lately. And I couldn’t pretend I didn’t like it.

ME: Is that so? MANHATTAN: Definitely. How many girls are cool enough to joke about turning me into a rug and then end up being someone I actually want to talk to every day? ME: Fair point. I’m one of a kind. MANHATTAN: That you are. So, since I’m not there to take you out, what are you doing to entertain yourself? ME: I’m just relaxing, maybe watching a movie later. Nothing too crazy. MANHATTAN: Sounds cozy. I’d offer to keep you company, but I’m not sure you’re ready to handle my charming self in person. ME: Oh, I’m sure I could handle you just fine. MANHATTAN: Careful, San Diego. I might take that as a challenge.

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves at his boldness. This was definitely new territory, but I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying it.

ME: Maybe I want you to.

There was a pause, and I watched the typing bubble appear and disappear, wondering what was going through his mind. My heart raced in anticipation, unsure of what to expect next. Then, my phone buzzed again—not with a message, but with a photo.

I opened it and stared at the image for a moment, a smile tugging at my lips. He was standing in what looked like a hallway, wearing a worn white T-shirt and a Yankees baseball cap. His hair was a little long, curling out from under the cap, and he had a faint mustache that gave him a laid-back, almost mischievous look. His smile was subtle but warm, like he wasn’t quite sure what to expect either.

MANHATTAN: Figured it’s only fair you see who you’re talking to.

I couldn’t help but feel my heart skip a beat. He was more than I’d imagined—there was something so genuine and relaxed about him, and that easy confidence I’d sensed in our conversations was clearly just a part of who he was.

ME: Not bad, Manhattan. Not bad at all. MANHATTAN: Glad you approve. Now, your turn?

I felt a rush of nerves as I realized he was asking for a photo in return. This felt like a big step—more real than anything we’d done before. But there was also something exciting about it, about finally showing him who I was after all this time.

I took a deep breath, then snapped a quick selfie, trying to capture something that felt natural but not too staged. I hesitated only for a second before hitting send, my heart pounding as I waited for his reaction.

ME: Alright, but don’t judge too harshly.

My phone buzzed almost immediately after I sent the photo. I could practically feel my pulse in my ears as I watched the screen, waiting for his response. It didn’t take long.

MANHATTAN: Wow.

I bit my lip, a small smile creeping onto my face. Just one word, but it was enough to make my stomach flip.

ME: "Wow" good, or "wow" bad? MANHATTAN: Definitely good. You’re beautiful, San Diego. I wasn’t prepared for that.

I felt my cheeks heat up at his words. There was something different about receiving a compliment from someone who’d only known me through words until now—someone who hadn’t seen my face but still wanted to know more about me.

ME: You’re just saying that. MANHATTAN: I’m really not. I mean it. I didn’t expect this whole wrong-number thing to turn into something like this, but I’m glad it did. ME: Me too. It’s been… nice, talking to you. Getting to know you. MANHATTAN: More than nice, if you ask me. But now that I’ve seen you, I kind of want to see more of you.

My heart skipped a beat at that. The idea of him wanting more, even though we’d only known each other through these messages, made something flutter inside me.

ME: More of me? How so? MANHATTAN: Not in a creepy way, I promise. Just… more of your thoughts, your stories. I like hearing about your day, what you’re up to. I guess I’m just curious about you. ME: You’re making me blush over here. MANHATTAN: Good. You’ve been doing that to me since day one.

I felt my face heat up even more, and I couldn’t help but smile. It was strange how this random guy from Manhattan, who I’d never even met, could make me feel this way.

ME: Well, if you’re really that curious, ask away. What do you want to know? MANHATTAN: That sounds perfect. What’s your favorite book? ME: That’s like asking a parent to pick their favorite child! How would you feel if I asked you your favorite hockey team? MANHATTAN: New York Rangers. Easy. Number 1 😉 ME: Alright, I'll take your word for it. MANHATTAN: So, tell me something else. What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet?

I laughed softly to myself, feeling that familiar warmth from our conversation. The idea of us just getting to know each other like this, little by little, was comforting. It felt safe and exciting all at once.

ME: I’ve always wanted to travel more. There’s a whole world out there, and I’ve only seen a tiny part of it. MANHATTAN: Where’s the first place you’d go? ME: Italy, I think. The food, the history, the art—I want to experience all of it. MANHATTAN: That sounds incredible. I’ve always wanted to see more of Europe, too. ME: Maybe one day we’ll both get there. Until then, I guess we’ll just have to keep texting about it. MANHATTAN: I’m more than okay with that, San Diego. Talking to you is the best part of my day. ME: Same here, Manhattan.

As I set my phone down, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. There was no rush, no pressure—just a growing connection with someone who was quickly becoming more than just a stranger on the other end of a text. And for now, that was more than enough.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

It had been almost a month since the night I saw Manhattan’s face for the first time, and our conversations had only gotten better since then. We talked almost every day, sharing little details about our lives, random thoughts, and sometimes just silence on the other end of the line when we were both too tired to text much. I was surprised by how close I’d grown to him, even without meeting in person.

One afternoon, I got an email from one of my professors that sent my heart racing. My university was offering a select group of students a fully-funded, three-day trip to New York City to attend a special literary conference. The idea was to network, attend workshops, and get a taste of the publishing world in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. And somehow, I’d been chosen.

As soon as I read the email, my mind went straight to Manhattan. The idea of being in the same city as him, even if I wasn’t planning on meeting up, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. But as much as I wanted to share the news with him, a different thought crossed my mind—a surprise. What if I didn’t tell him? What if I showed up in his city and surprised him with the news?

The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. He’d been so open and sweet in our conversations, and I wanted to do something special. It felt like the perfect opportunity to catch him off guard, in a good way.

That evening, when I grabbed my phone to text him, I felt a little mischievous. I decided to keep the New York trip to myself for now.

Tuesday, May 2, 2024today 8:45pm ME: Hey, how’s your day going? MANHATTAN: Not bad, just finished practice. How about you? ME: Same old, same old. Classes, assignments, you know the drill. MANHATTAN: Ah, the glamorous life of a student. Anything exciting on the horizon?

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to spill the beans.

ME: Nothing too crazy. Just trying to survive this semester. MANHATTAN: You’ve got this. I believe in you, San Diego. ME: Thanks, Manhattan. I appreciate that. MANHATTAN: Anytime. So, what’s on your mind? ME: Honestly, just thinking about how much I’d love to get away for a bit. You know, escape the routine. MANHATTAN: I hear you. If you ever find yourself in need of a change of scenery, you know where to find me 😉

I smiled to myself, knowing that in just a few weeks, I would be much closer to him than he realized.

ME: I’ll keep that in mind. MANHATTAN: Good. I’d be happy to play tour guide if you ever made it to the Big Apple. ME: I’ll have to remember that. You seem like you’d be a pretty good tour guide. MANHATTAN: Oh, I am. You’d be in excellent hands.

I chuckled, the idea of actually seeing him in person lingering in the back of my mind. But for now, I decided to keep the surprise to myself.

ME: I’ll bet. Maybe one day I’ll take you up on that offer. MANHATTAN: I hope so. It would be fun.

A sense of anticipation buzzed through me. The thought of being in New York, in his city, and surprising him with my presence was exciting. It was something to look forward to, something just for me, and maybe for him too—when the time was right.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

to be continued... hehehe

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 44

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary/ Warnings: A new life comes into your crazy little family

You decided to take a couple days off after finding out and just told Chief Michelson you were sick. In truth you just needed time to adjust.

After Frank's harsh initial reaction he'd switched into more of a protector/ planner mode. You didn't even know the sex of the baby yet and the man was making lists for what furniture you'd need and telling you it was about time you got a car.

You sat next to Karen, both of you wearing a smile as the two of you watched Frank and Curtis measure out your spare bedroom to decide where a crib could go. 

"Frank! I mean I'm pretty sure it's got somewhere to sleep for a while" Karen teased running a hand over your stomach. He raised an eyebrow at her "Very funny. I'm not saying we need to buy it now but Y/N you remember how insane it was bringing Lisa how from the hospital" 

You nodded and felt a flicker of hope at the simple fact that he was actually talking about one of the kids unprompted. "I remember Frank but Karen does have a point. We'll get everything ready in time hell I still have people that don't know"

He glanced up from his fourth cup of coffee and grinned "If you mean David and Sarah, I already called them" "Frank!" Karen scolded but you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad. Frank was smiling, that's what was important. 

"Oh shit!" You said suddenly and everyone turned to look at you. "I gotta tell Alice!" 

"Are you still going to be working on the rig?" Frank asked as you stood to hunt your cellphone. You shrugged "Protocol says I have a choice to either go on dispatch duty till the baby's born or stay on rig. Guess it all depends what the obgyn says after my first appointment"

You hit Alice's number and walked into your kitchen, trying to block out the conversation in your living room but catching enough to know Frank and Curtis was planning to meet with Matt and Dinah to officially accept the offer she'd laid out.

The phone rang twice before Alice answered "About time! Chief called to say Jessie will be partnered with me tor the next couple days, meanwhile I'm freaking out thinking something is wrong with you" you chuckled nervously "Well um the doctor did find something out"

"What?" She nearly screamed and you could hear Kenzie in the background so you said "Put me on speaker so I can tell you both" "Ok" you heard her click it over so you took a breath then said "Turns out I'm pregnant"

"Oh my god!" Was all Kenzie said. Alice on the other hand cracked up laughing "Well it'll be a good looking kid. Helluva attitude but good looking" "Geez thanks Alice" you replied but was relieved that now everyone close to you knew. Her voice got serious then she said "We're here for you no matter what"

Chief let you stay on rig until you were a week shy of the halfway point. He then informed you Alice would keep Jessie as a temp partner until you could come back and that you'd be working dispatch.

Frank took the deal from Homeland, Curtis and David took the job offer so that meant Frank was officially back from the dead. He said it was because he wanted to make sure he could be there for Karen, you and the baby no matter what.

The most comical thing that you found about being pregnant was the stares you'd get from the bodega owner when you'd come waddling in behind none other than the punisher in the middle of the night because a craving hit so Frank had come over to take you to the store. You'd teased more than once "I think I'm hurting your reputation Frank" he'd shrugged and patted your stomach "That's my niece or nephew so it's worth it"

The day you went for the gender reveal ultrasound Karen went with you. You laid back on the bed and reached for her hand. She squeezed yours gently as the tech started moving the wand around "Well mama, we got fingers, toes and oh look at that" you and Karen glanced at the screen so she circled one area "You got a little girl on the way"

Karen practically squealed "Frank was hoping it was a girl too" she admitted after a moment. You simply laughed and shook your head.

A few weeks later Karen, Sarah,and Leo took you out for the day while Frank, Curtis , David and Zach went about turning your spare bedroom into a nursery "one that can move up with her in size" Frank had added at your look.

You counted yourself as unbelievably lucky. Yeah Billy wasn't able to be with you and would probably never even meet his daughter but you and her both had an entire village behind you. Your daughter's family consisted from vigilantes to reporters to ex NSA analyst and damn near everything in between.

The closer you got to your due date the less amount of time you got to spend alone. Someone was always with you. You couldn't blame them even Frank backed down when Karen gave marching orders.

You had gotten Alice and Kenzie to come over to help you frame photos for the family wall you'd added to the baby's room. "This is a good photo of you and Maria" Alice smiled looking at the photo. Maria was practically hanging off your neck and was mid laugh. It was one of the times Frank and Billy had come back unexpectedly early and she had been deliriously happy that Frank wouldn't miss Christmas that year.

"Yeah it is. God I miss her" you answered with a small smile then reached for another stack of pictures "I want to make sure the baby has everyone I consider her family represented. That's why I asked for a shot of you two. Me and Alice have been partners for so many years. Seems only fair" 

It took the three of you a couple hours to frame all the photos you wanted up and to arrange them around the room so they didn't look too cluttered. 

You stepped back to look at the finished product and smiled. You, Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis and Maria and the kids were represented the most then there was some of the Liebermans, Matt and Foggy then Alice and Kenzie. "I can say one thing. This kid has one hell of a family waiting to meet her" Alice teased throwing an arm over your shoulders.

A knock from the door drew all of your attention so you checked the time "That would be Frank and Karen" Kenzie glanced at your belly for permission so when you nodded she laid on hand on it then leaned down to talk to the baby "Bye little bit. Maybe your mommy will pick a name before you're born so you won't just be listed as babygirl Y/L/N-Russo"

"It's just gonna be babygirl Russo. I have a lot more issues with my last name than his" you admitted so she shrugged then changed it to "Well then little bit hopefully mommy picks a name so you're not just babygirl Russo"

You swatted playfully at her "Alice get your wife"  Alice kissed your cheek then grabbed Kenzie's hand "C'mon baby. We don't provoke the pregnant lady" 

The day you hit thirty nine weeks you had decided to go to the bulletin to have lunch with Karen. You were walking up the steps and heard Ellison "Need a hand?" You looked up to see he was offering his arm so you gladly took it. "Thank you!" He nodded and walked with you inside.

You hadn't even made it to Karen's office when a pain hit severe enough to double you up. "Y/N?" When you didn't reply he looked at the nearest person "GET PAGE NOW!" 

Karen came running around the corner about the time another pain hit you and you felt liquid run down your leg. You looked down to see you were now standing in a puddle of water "Oh fuck Karen this is it" you managed to get out but she was already pulling a chair under you and calling an ambulance with Ellison's phone while she called Frank with hers.

------------------------

Alice and Jessie happened to be on the ambulance that responded. She sat in the back monitoring your contractions on the way "See? Little bit wanted auntie Alice even if I was at work!" She teased making a pained laugh escape you "She could've asked to call you!"

By the time you got to the hospital the waiting room looked like a frickin circus. Matt, Foggy and Marci were there fresh from court from the looks of it. Frank and Curtis were there with Dinah and Sam in tow who had apparently drove them. Curtis was on the phone with David trying to convince him he didn't have to come yet.

When they spotted you and Karen all eyes turned towards you as your obgyn Dr Lynnette Erickson came out the double doors and took in just how many were there with you. "Miss Y/L/N only two can accompany you into delivery" you grabbed Karen's hand then glanced at Frank "What you say Frankie?" He nodded and quickly got to the other side of the bed as they pushed you away.

Dinah and Sam were telling Curtis  they'd call to check in and Alice hollered she'd come after shift.  That was the last you heard out the waiting room.

------------------

Frank stepped into the hall while Karen helped you change into a gown then he came back in and stood at the head of the bed watching the doctor and nurses mill around with his patent Punisher glare in full swing. "Easy Frank. They're here to help me" you reminded him with a pained smile and he nodded "Yeah they better"

An hour later Frank was sitting in the bed behind you supporting your body against his own while Karen helped you through the breathing. "One more push and she'll be out mama" Dr Erickson said and Frank leaned up to whisper in your ear "Come on sweetheart. You got this. You're more badass than any marine I've ever met. One more push. You can do it"

Frank helped you sit up further and Karen moved down to help hold your legs as you gave one final hard push and was rewarded with a shrill cry filling the room. After a moment one of the nurses handed you a tiny pink bundle. "Congratulations. What's her name?" 

You glanced between Karen and Frank who were standing at your side in awe of their niece "I was thinking Addison Elizabeth Russo" Frank's eyes teared up a bit when he heard the middle name but he nodded "Maria would've loved that" the nurse smiled and said "I'll write it in her chart. Do you want me to tell everyone waiting?" 

Frank shook his head "Give us three a few minutes then I'll go collect the nutjobs one at a time" the nurse laughed and said "Well congrats. I can tell already Addison is a very loved little girl" "That she is" Karen agreed with tears in her eyes.

Addison or Adi as you planned to call her was beautiful. She had your nose but Billy's dark eyes and mouth. God she was going to look just like him. You'd never felt more whole than staring at her.

----------------------

Once you were moved into a regular room Frank headed out to deliver news and to bring a couple people back at a time to meet the newest member of your little family.

"I wish Billy could've been here" you confessed and Karen kissed your forehead "I know you do. I promise you won't be alone in any of this" you smiled at her as Adi cooed slightly in your arms.

--------------------

Despite the fact that you were exhausted and wanted to sleep it was a comical experience seeing everyone meet her.

Curtis was a pro at holding babies. She curled right up to him and nearly fell asleep "She knows who's gonna be her favorite uncle" he'd teased with a wink towards you when Frank shot him a look. 

Foggy was nervous and let Karen direct him how to hold her but looked so cute smiling down at her. You realized Matt was standing back so you said "Get up in here Matt. Come meet her" he sat on the edge of the bed so you laid her in his arms. He gently ran his fingertip across her face "She's beautiful Y/N"

The Liebermans were a family unit and it showed. Sarah held Adi while David, Leo and Zach met her. "She's so little!" Leo whispered and you grinned "By the time she's up a size you'll be needing a baby sitting job right Leo?"

Alice and Kenzie barely made it under the wire before visiting hours ended. Alice just sat there smiling at her "You did amazing Y/N! She is gorgeous!" 

---------------------

Once everyone else had left you thought you'd be alone overnight but Frank pulled out the cot in the corner of the room. "What are you doing?" You asked and he glanced over his shoulder at Karen and smirked  "I'm staying kid. You were there for Maria when she had newborns. I'm gonna be here for you. Me and Karen already set up a schedule so you always have help. Sarah has offered to watch her when you go back to work and for any overnight shifts we bought a portable crib for our place"

You felt yourself tearing up again and didn't know if it was hormones or what. "Thank you both" he shrugged "We stick together sweetheart. Kind of what we do"

You took a deep breath then said "That does lead into my next question" they exchanged a look then Karen said "What is it?" You looked at Adi sleeping peacefully then at Frank then at Karen. "Will you two be her godparents?" 

"Really?" Karen asked with a broad smile. When you nodded she pulled you into a hug then Frank hugged you both "This a yes?" You asked after a moment and Frank groaned "Christ, yes Y/N we'd love to be her godparents"

@intothesoul

@weallhaveadestiny

[randofics]

Winter warmth

Southern reader x Matt Murdock

I got in the mood for a winter fic. With the temp dropping into the 50's today I just needed something to "warm me up". This is just pure fluff. Hope yall enjoy!

You had known Matt Murdock for a month now. You had literally ran into him on the street. It had been your fault as you were distracted with your phone. You were usually good about avoiding people on the street even when you were engrossed with your phone. You had apologized profusely and then noticed he was blind. He was holding a walking stick and had red round shades over his eyes. He smiled at you with that enticing grin and said it was fine. The rest was history.

You just recently started dating him having found him attractive and funny among other things. He was sweet and you hadn't found many like him in New York. You weren't from New York so the drastic drop in temperature through the fall and start of winter was a struggle for you. You were used to mild winters that rarely dropped below 32°f. The south was like that most years. The large amount of snow was new too. At most you would get a few inches or just slush, but here snow could get a foot or more deep.

Right now you were walking down the icy sidewalk to Matt's apartment. You had to park a block away because of the snow and ice blocking the street. You were so happy when you finally reached the steps. And you just about slipped on an icy patch stepping up to the glass door. The warmth from inside hit you in the face when you opened the door. You stamped your boots on the rug to get the ice off them before you got in the elevator. When you got to his door you knocked gently knowing he would be able to hear it. And sure enough he opened the door. "Hey Matt." "Oh hey y/n what are you doing here?" "I thought I'd surprise you." You shook the plastic bag you were carrying. "Ooh you brought me something?" "Yeah I figured you'd like something to warm you up after work." He stepped out of the way for you to go past him. "Please come in."

You slid off your boots near the door and shucked off your jacket placing it on the coat rack. He walked up behind you and placed his hands on your abdomen. "So what did you get me?" He rested his chin on your shoulder. " Well I figured I would make shrimp and grits and use some of my eggs that my mom sent yesterday. My hens back home laid them so they're better than store bought." "Ooh I've never had shrimp and grits before." You turn your head to look at him. "Really? Well I suppose it's not really a northern thing." "What's it like?" "Well you can get it in a couple different ways but it's sorta like porridge I guess? It's savory and it's made from corn but it doesn't really taste like corn if that makes sense."

He hummed in acknowledgement and released his hold on you. He walked into the kitchen behind you. "You need my help with anything?" "The grits are quick to make but you can chop up the vegetables I got to make omelets with. It's a weird combination of dishes but I couldn't think of a better way to use up these eggs." He squatted down to grab the cutting board from the cabinet while you got everything ready for the grits. By the time you went to grab the veggies for him he had the board and a knife on the counter. You placed the scallions and tomatoes next to the cutting board and handed him the onion to cut first. Soon the smell of the grits and shrimp was wafting around the apartment and you asked him to put some of the scallions in the pot of grits. After the shrimp and grits were taken off the heat you used the same pan you cooked the shrimp in to make two omelets. You scraped the vegetables on top of the cooking eggs and folded it in half.

"What do you want to drink honey?" He opened the top cabinet to grab two glasses. " I actually brought some sweet tea too so if you want to try some you're welcome to it." After placing the glasses on the island behind you he felt around for the bag. You could hear it crinkle when he touched and took the half gallon jug out of it. While he poured the amber liquid into the glasses you finished plating the food. "Ok it's done darlin I'll take our plates to the table if you'll get the utensils and glasses." "Ok I'll be there in a sec." You placed the plates on the table and sat waiting for him. He sat the drinks on the table and handed you a set of utensils. "It smells great!" "Yeah I think you'll enjoy it." He takes a sip of the sweet tea. "Mmh that's really sweet! Almost too sweet." You chuckle at him. "If you want I can water it down a bit. I know it can be strong to anyone who hasn't had it before." He chuckles. "Yeah I may need too." You take the glass from him and walk to the sink pouring some water in it. "Here see if this is any better." He takes an experimental sip.

"Yeah that's better thanks honey." You sit back down. "Alright let's eat before it gets cold." You both scoop up some of the grits and take a bite. "Oh yeah that's good." "Glad you like it darlin. It should help warm us up." He's too busy eating to respond so you continue to eat aswell. A little bit later and you're both stuffed. Matt looks ready to pass out at any moment. "Here why don't you go lay down on the couch and I'll put the dishes up." "Good idea I feel like I'm going to fall asleep any minute now." You gather up the plates and he goes to the couch. When you walk into the living room he's laying across the couch waiting for you. You get on top of him and snuggle into his chest as he covers the both of you in a thick blanket. "Goodnight y/n." "Goodnight Matt." He kisses your head and wraps his arms around you as you drift off to sleep.

[griffxnnage]

chapter 6 - après la pluie, le beau temps

pairing: george weasley x fem!french!reader

word count: 1.0k

taglist google form

summary: if you wait long enough, and if you have faith, it pays off.

warnings: swearing, it's the last chapter :')

The first thing Y/N did, once she was closer to him, was slap him right across the face.

It took George by surprise, and his hand immediately went to the stinging flesh, thinking, “I deserved that one.”

He was still in shock from the slap when she pulled him in for a tight hug. “George Weasley, don’t ever make me go through that again.” She was stifling back tears, trying to hide it in his sweater.

George breathed in the scent of her hair, missing the familiarity of it, and realizing how much he missed her. He returned her bone crushing hug, missing the feeling of her body against his, and the warmth she provided.

The both slowly collapsed to the floor, and stayed entwined for Merlin knows how long. By the time they pulled away from one another, there were little wet spots on each of their clothes from the others' tears; they both laughed at that while wiping their eyes.

George took her hands in his, looking at them, and playing with her fingers.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for being a stupid git; it was wrong of me to accuse you of cheating. It’s just that I overthink everything, and I always focus on the negative, and that’s what's been on my mind ever since I heard you mention Alex-”

“George, I’d never cheat on you. Never. Unless the person flirting with me was Cindy Crawford, then you’re on your own.” Y/N chuckled, earning a boop to her nose.

“Good to know, goofball. And for the record, I’d never cheat on you, no matter the celebrity,” George laughed, wholeheartedly; a sound Y/N had missed hearing.

“Sorry for overreacting about this whole situation,” Y/N looked at the floor, feeling sorry for ruining the moment. “It’s just, I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before, and I didn’t know how to deal with it-”

“Y/N, now you’re the one rambling.” George chuckled, taking her face in his hands. “We both fucked up, and I’m pretty sure that’ll never happen again; at least, not on this scale.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Weasley,” Y/N smiled, leaning forward and giving him a kiss for the first time in (what felt like) forever.

-

A year after the whole fiasco, more fights had occurred, but they got through it, realizing, and always coming to the conclusion, that their love outweighed any fight, and would always prevail. And as Y/N was getting her hair and makeup done, she smiled at her memories with him, the good and the ugly.

As her stylist dusted her eyelids with glistening eyeshadow, she thought about the first time she ever laid eyes on him. She remembered thinking, “That’s him. He’s the one.”

When highlight was applied to her cheekbones, she was reminded of the little pecks George had placed there, whether he was just leaving for work, or smothering her face in kisses when they were cuddling.

When matte lipstick was applied to her lips, she thought of some fights that had occurred over the span of their relationship. She thought about when they made up, and the way her lips would dance across his freckled skin.

The stylist analyzed her face when all the poking and prodding had ended, and swiveled Y/N around in her chair to see the final result.

It was perfect. Not too much, but just enough to accentuate her features in the best way possible. As she examined her face, she thought to herself, ‘Wow, I’m getting married today.’

-

“Perk up Georgie, you’re getting hitched!!” Exclaimed Fred, slapping his twin on the back. They were both looking at George’s reflection in a full length mirror, looking for anything that was out of place.

Fred ended up adjusting George’s bowtie, even though it was already perfectly straight. George noticed this, and pushed his brothers hand away. “Fred, you know I’m still your twin, right?”

Fred blinked away tears, and just said, “Yea, I know that. I’m just sad that you’re the first one gettin’ married; it was supposed to be me.” George laughed at that, shoving his brother away.

-

After everyone was ready, and happy tears were being stifled, it was time for Y/N to walk down the aisle. As their song was playing, the congregation stood, and she began her descent. Her heart was pounding, and her palms were becoming a tad sweaty, but all of the nervousness faded when she saw George staring at her in complete awe.

He couldn’t do anything but openly cry at how beautiful she was, and that simple act brought Y/N to tears. When she reached the end of the aisle, she whispered to George, “There goes my makeup,”

“You look wonderful, my love.” George smiled, kissing the side of her head. “Now, let’s get hitched, shall we?” He tilted his head, an adorable crooked smile upon his face.

“Sounds good to me, Georgie.” Y/N was smiling so hard, it hurt.

As they both turned to the officiant, Y/N thought about all the things that happened for the both of them to be in that moment. After all the bad things she’d been through, after all the heartbreak of losing the ones she held most dear, she thought, ‘Après la pluie, le beau temps.’

After rain, good weather. Hang in there. And Merlin, was she glad she did.

Her mind also wandered to the first day they met, and how he asked what ‘C’est la vie’ meant. And she realized that it doesn’t always have to be used in a negative context; ‘that’s life’ demonstrates the ups and downs, and the inbetweens. It shows how unpredictably beautiful life can be, and she came to the conclusion that she was one of the lucky ones who got to experience that side of life.

As she looked at her husband to be, she could only think about how her life was only going to get better from that moment on. Just before she started to say her vows, she made a vow to herself; that no matter how terrible life seems to be, or how brilliant it turns out to be, she’ll always remind herself of the good old saying, c’est la vie.

general/series taglist: @ur-local-reality-shifter @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @voidmalfoy @daltonacademia@freddieweasleyswife @amphxtrite @yourlocalspencerreidsimp @luvshack @henqtic @chaoswalkinq @slytherclawbitch @nerdyblogger06 @horrorxweasley @mollysolo@hufflepuffalice @ohnoitsmekc @eccentricbookworm @bellaiscool

if your url is crossed out, i wasn't able to tag you </3

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 19: Debridement

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane begins to process life after her trauma, and Sy delivers the news of her safety to the people that matter most to her…but there is pushback on a few aspects of his report.

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Mostly fluff, but with mention of Shane’s trauma in the cellar. Not graphic. 

Author’s Note: My darling readers! Thank you so much for your patience as I deal with seasonal stress, fatigue, anxiety, and some depression. It was my goal to have all chapters of this story done by the end of this year. I don’t think I’ll accomplish it, but I’ll do my very best to get at least one more chapter up by the 31st. 2020 has been a totally shit year, but I will forever owe it some remarkable things. This story, which has been an amazing escape from real life, the friends I’ve made from all over my country and the world, many of them because of this story, and a long overdue shift in my work hours starting next week. I’ll be glad to see the back of it, but the year has really opened me up to new ideas and some major soul-searching. I think, mentally, I’m actually more myself than I’ve ever been, despite some blue times. You can all take some credit for that improvement, because many of my moments of clarity have arisen from brilliant and profound posts here.

The title of this chapter seemed appropriate for a few reasons. Wounds are cleaned and cleared of damaged tissue during debridement. This is one of the steps usually required for a large and/or traumatic wound to heal. We see Shane beginning this process here in this chapter, and in a sense, Sy, as well. The cleansing of Shane in both the literal and figurative sense was so interesting and satisfying to write. And Sy’s bit at the end was a fun puzzle in which I had to figure out how to have Sy give the same news to four different recipients without sounding repetitive. I hope that landed, and if anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

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Shane still felt as if her head was floating above her body, like a balloon on a long string. The combination of meds in her system had helped many of her symptoms. The pain she felt, the physical pain, had been alleviated. Her troubled mind had been put at ease, more or less. But that was a long time ago. And unfortunately, the side effects weren't wearing off at the rapid rate of the intended ones.

As she sat in the SUV--the escape vehicle-- parked outside a large building the size of a small airplane hangar, she tried not to think about what Sy and his pals were discussing just outside the vehicle. She tried not to reflect on the past few days that she had convinced herself would be her last. She tried not to think about what -- or, really, who -- was inside that building.

She thought about seeing Elliott again. The man who had planned to kill her, and almost succeeded. A part of her wished he had, because she wasn't sure she knew who she was anymore. She was a stranger to herself. And living like this seemed so much more difficult than a quick painless death. She couldn't bear the thought of being in view of him.

But another part of her wanted to go in there and end his life herself. That part of her could pull the trigger on a gun aimed at his head. That part of her could bury a knife in his kidney, or sever an artery. Her anatomy and physiology courses could serve her well here. She had dangerous knowledge. Maybe that's why doctors often seem so full of themselves. They possess the knowledge to end life, and yet they choose to save it. It sort of puts things into perspective. Maybe they're justified in their hubris.

Still one more part simply wanted to go home, clean up, and lay naked in her soft sheets with Sy wrapped around her. Warmer and more comforting than any blanket had ever been. She had remembered missing him so much. She thought now about his gentle, loving hands on her, his mouth tasting her so delicately, his…

But then her mind was ripped from the sensual thoughts of Sy and back to her horrific memories from that cellar. The hands of strangers, rough and hateful, their mouths full of words like bile or the grunts of their own violent fulfillment.

Her nightmare of a daydream was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the back passenger door. She jumped, and looked at the source of the noise with wide-eyed terror. It was only Sy, but she couldn't school her face into a softer expression, even after realizing she was safe.

"Oh, Sunshine, I'm so sorry I startled ya! You okay?"

She said nothing, just let out her held breath woefully.

"Let's head home. I'll get your purse and bag of clothes here."

"I don't want those clothes. Throw them away. And these shoes are going in the trash as soon as possible, too."

"Okay. I'll toss it. You sure?"

"I never want to see that bag again. I'm positive."

He nodded, grabbed her purse, and went around to help her out of the vehicle.

One of Sy's friends approached them from the building.

"You guys okay? You'll make it home alright?"

"Yeah, Matt, we'll be okay. I'll be in touch soon about next steps."

"You got it, Captain. Anything you need, let us know."

"Will do. Thanks for everything you've already done. I owe ya."

"You don't owe me a thing, brother. You don't owe any of us. Not after everything you've done for all of us…for everyone."

Sy just nodded at Matt, and turned toward his truck, steadying Shane all the way to the passenger door.

The drive to Shane's house was quiet. Sy kept one hand on the wheel, holding hers in the other. She felt safe, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling inside her. Like the other shoe would soon drop, and her love would be taken away again.

When they were safely parked in her driveway, Sy took her keys out of his pocket, apparently having gotten them from his friend who'd drove her car from Elliott's to the airplane hangar place. He walked around to get her, and helped her to her door. She kicked off her shoes immediately when she stepped inside her shadowy living room. She had left the same lamp on that she always did, but it was dimmer now, having been on almost a whole week.

"Bath?" Sy asked. Shane nodded slowly. She would need a long soak to erase this feeling.

Sy got the bath water ready while she found some clothes to put on after. She laid her comfiest lounge pants and her favorite sweat shirt on the bed and walked toward the bathroom. She was soon hit with the comforting aroma of lavender, chamomile, and vanilla as soon as she stepped through the doorway. He had used her favorite bubble bath and salts.

"Check that water temp. I think it's about right." he requested. It was perfect. She started to peel off the stiff paper scrubs she was still wearing, but he insisted on helping her. As she stood before him, even though he'd seen every inch of her body before, she felt more naked and exposed than ever. She looked at him, noticed tears welling in his eyes, and dropped her gaze to the bath mat under her feet. Her skin, typically immaculately clear, olive perfection, was now peppered with dozens of bruises. She felt like a dalmatian, covered in spots. She chuckled inside herself at the thought of one of her favorite Disney films featuring the breed most heavily.

Sy's strong, but gentle hands landed softly on her upper arms. His lips lit tenderly on her forehead. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded and stepped into the large, garden tub full of steaming water. It stung her feet, ankles, and calves, but she still bent to sit, wincing as her tender petals and behind met the medicinal broth. Sy held her hand as she stepped in and guided her down. She closed her eyes at the soothing pain of the hot water and did not open them until she felt the water level rise. Sy had stepped in with her, wearing just his boxer-briefs, and was sitting on the side of the tub. He reached for the hand shower, and turned the water back on, slightly less warm, but still soothing and soaked her hair, directing the water away from her face. He had thought to grab her shampoo from the shower, as well, and was lathering some up in his hands to apply to her wet strands. It felt like heaven to have his fingers in her hair like this. Relaxing and soporific. He kept at it until she was certain he must be getting pruney, not to mention tired.

After carefully rinsing her hair of the coconut-scented lather, he grabbed the lavender foam bath she loved, and worked it up in one of the wash cloths he'd brought from the linen caddy between the sink and shower. He massaged the suds into her tired and injured skin over her back, then requested each leg in turn, kneading her calves and feet as she took another of the cloths and washed her face with the rich cleanser she kept by the bath, typically using it only on her "spa days" but feeling that it would nourish her battered cheeks and nose better than anything else. Sy's ministrations filled her with a kind of blissful contentment. She couldn't help but wonder if she deserved him. She always had thought she deserved the best things in life, even though her romantic past didn't tend to pan out that way. She'd worked very hard and often allowed herself to invest in quality. But now…she felt broken, in spite of herself. She'd have to tell Sy all that happened to her one day, and when that day came, he'd probably realize how damaged she really was, and he'd leave. Just like everyone else always did. She knew the conversation needed to come sooner rather than later, but couldn't bring herself to break the spell yet.

Sy let her soak for as long as she was comfortable until the water grew tepid. She looked up to him, sitting on the side of the tub, legs now outside, his gaze like twin seas met hers. He had been watching her, it seemed. As if worried that she would dematerialize if he looked away. Her bath robe was draped across his lap, as was a large bath towel. She moved to stand from the now chilled bath water, and Sy was immediately up to aid her rising. He held her hand as she stepped out of the tub and dried her top half before helping her don the robe, then continued to dry her bottom half.

"Go on in there and get comfortable, Sunshine. I have a few phone calls to make. I wanna let your folks know you're okay and I wanna tell Detective Clarkson you've been found. Anyone else you want me to get in touch with?"

"Umm, do you know if my brother and sister know what's happened to me?"

"They do. They should both be at your parent's house by now from what I gathered when I visited."

"Okay, so mom or dad will let them know. I guess you should call Susan, and let her know that I'm alive but won't be in this week. On my fridge, there's a phone directory for everyone in my department. But first, call Heather. I don't want her to worry any longer. Call her right after mom and dad. And tell them all I'll have them over tomorrow, but I can't tonight. I'm…"

She didn't even know what she was. Tired, sore, depressed, hopeless, and angry. A combination of so many feelings and emotions coursed through her.

"I'll work it out. You get in bed, and I'll be back in when I'm done with these calls, okay?" she nodded. He continued, "I love you, darlin.'" and wrapped his arms around her, making her feel almost whole again.

"I love you." she replied. Holding back tears until he had left the room.

~~~~~~

Shane realized she hadn't brushed her teeth in…far too long. She donned her sleeping clothes and went into the bathroom again to complete a comprehensive oral hygiene routine.  Sy had been gone for about a half hour, during which time, his absence felt like a noose around her neck. Or an anvil on her chest. It made it feel like hours had passed rather than mere minutes. She was fidgety. When he finally re-entered, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you need anything, sweet pea?"

"Just you."

Sy crawled under the covers with Shane to spoon her, arm laying over her rib cage. She winced, as the bruises on her torso were disturbed at the contact, but she didn't ask him to adjust. Despite the dull pain, this was what she needed. Sy's protecting arm around her.

"Did you get a hold of everyone?" She asked, sleepily.

"I did. Your family are eager to see you, but they understand your need for rest. Heather says that you better let her come over soon, because she's holding your phone hostage until you pay her in hugs. They all send their love."

"And Susan?"

"Yeah, that woman is a piece of work, I know, but I think she's going to come through for you. She's going to have them hold off on scheduling patients with you until you're better, and put both weeks in as vacation. She said you have plenty of it. But also, if you need more time, she can work out some…family medical leave…thing? She said she'd get the ball rolling on that, and will let you know what you need to do on your end."

"Oh, good. Yeah, she can be an asshole, but sometimes she does right by her employees. What about the detective?"

Sy paused there. "I, uh, I talked to him for quite a while and he said a lot of things. Let's go over the finer points tomorrow at breakfast. Or, rather, today." He said, looking at the blue numbers on the glowing digital clock on Shane's nightstand that indicated the wee hours of the morning were running out. "I'm sure we're both tired enough to grab a few winks, ain't we?" He asked, and she hummed her ascent as she tucked herself closer to his warm, monolithic chest.

As Shane drifted off, she thought she felt a warm kiss, and a whisper at her temple. It sounded like a tearful prayer. She was too far into her sleep to comprehend the words being said.

"Thank you God," Sy whispered. "I know I'm not your most faithful servant, but I am truly grateful that you've kept this treasure of mine alive and brought her back to me. Thank you for reuniting me with the woman I mean to spend the rest of my days with, if she'll agree to it. Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About Thirty Minutes Ago-

Sy left the bedroom and began scrolling through his phone for the Benton's number. He pressed the call button with joy.

"Sy?" John answered frantically, just as he did the first time Sy spoke to him.

"John, is everyone there?"

"Yeah, we're all just watching a movie in the family room. Do you have news?"

"I do. You may want to put me on speaker, because everybody's going to want to hear this."

"Okay." and after a brief struggle with the speaker button and help from two younger people Sy presumed were Ethan and Gabby, John was back with the whole family. "Okay, Sy, we can all hear you. What's the word?"

"Oh, it's a very good word, guys. I found Shane and she is alive, and now safe." Cheering from what sounded like a stadium full of fanatics resounded from the ear piece of his cell phone.

"Sy, this is Gabby, Shane's sister. Can we come see her now?" Gabby's tears were evident in her voice. He wished he could tell them yes. But Shane needed her rest.

"I know she would love to see you, Gabby, she'd love to see all of you, but I think what she needs right now is rest. She's been through…a terrible ordeal. I took her to the Emergency Room to get checked out, and she just had a bath and is about to go to bed. She'll want to see you all tomorrow, though. Maybe around lunch time?"

"That sounds good, Sy. We'll bring some of this food over." John said.

"Are you sure we can't come over tonight? I…I want to see my daughter with my own eyes." Margaret said, weepily.

"I truly wish I could tell you yes, Peg, but she's hardly slept the last week, and just had her first full meal since she was taken this evening at the hospital. I really think it's best for everyone if you guys wait until tomorrow when she's more herself and rested." Sy reiterated.

"What about the people who did this to her?" a male voice he didn't recognize asked, assured to be Ethan. "Any leads on them?" He wanted to tell them that most of the men had been dealt with using lethal or nearly lethal force, and that the perpetrator of Shane's misery was locked up in Matt's shop bathroom until they decided just how to take care of him. But he needed to disclose what he knew to as few people as possible.

"The less y'all know, the better. For your own good. At least right now. Just know that whatever justice has not yet been served, it will be very soon."

"That's good enough for me." John offered, in an apparent attempt to bring Ethan on side.

"Thanks, John. I'll take care of her tonight. I won't leave her side. I promise."

"Thank you, son." John replied. Sy appreciated the tender address, but wondered how Ethan felt about his father referring to someone else as his son. Probably not that great. He couldn't worry about that now.

"It's my sincerest pleasure. I want you to know that. She's my world now. I won't let anything else happen to her."

"We know, dear." Peg added.

"Good night. And we'll see y'all tomorrow."

Four incoherent replies rang out before he ended the call. Next was Heather.

"Hello?" she answered in sleepy confusion.

"Heather?"

"Who'sis?"

"It's Logan Syverson. Sy? From PT. Shane's boyfriend."

"Sy! Oh, it's good to hear from you! Any news?"

"The best news, darlin.' Our girl is alive, and home safe." he smiled ear to ear saying the words, but it quickly turned into a wince when Heather shouted for joy in his ear. It was fine. Not like he didn't already have mild tinnitus.

"Oh my GOD! I'm coming over right now!"

"No, Heather, she's resting. She told me she'll see people tomorrow, but I don't think anyone but you and her family should be allowed in right now. She's…well, she's been through seven levels of Hell, and when I look into her eyes, I can still see the fire."

"Shit. Anything I can do?"

"She'll be thrilled to see ya. But tomorrow."

"She better. I have her phone and the ransom is a thousand hugs."

"That's a steep debt." Sy chuckled.

"She can owe me for a while." Heather laughed. "Is she okay?"

What a loaded question. Physically, she was injured, but would heal. Emotionally, that would be more of a journey.

"Honestly, Heather? Not really. The physical stuff is more or less superficial, but…I'm worried about her mental state."

"Poor thing. Please let me know if I can do anything. Anything at all. She's like a sister to me."

"I will. For now, keep the news and the details quiet. I'm gonna call Susan next, and I don't think she'll like it if you know before she does. Just a hunch."

"An accurate one. She'd be furious. I'll keep mum. Thanks so much for putting my mind at ease, Sy. Take care of her."

"I'll do my best. See ya."

He was dreading talking to Susan the most. More than Clarkson. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but she'd really pissed him off every other time he'd talked to her, and he really didn't think too much of her.

"Hello, this is Susan."

"Hey, Susan, it's Logan Syverson. Shane's boyfriend." He made sure to put the label in there. Remind her that her policy had not been enough to keep them apart.

"Mr. Syverson. Hello. What can I do for you?" her haughty tone was softened a measure with concern for her employee. Even though she didn't ask about her in so many words, he knew that she was wondering.

"Nothing. I just wanted to let ya know, Shane's okay. She's been hurt, and won't be in this coming week, at least. She's in some pain right now, of both a physical and emotional nature."

"What happened?"

"She, uh, hasn't given me a lot of details." Not a lie. "She just escaped from her captor and we found each other." Misleading, but mostly true. "We just got home from the ER." Perhaps a lie by omission of the stop off at Matt's. "They said she'd be okay, but to follow up with her primary for more tests."

"Okay, I'll make sure her schedule is cleared. She has plenty of PTO for these two weeks, but I'll call the FMLA office in charge of family medical leave and short term disability and let them know she'll need some more time off, and see if we can get that going. I'll get with her about the details, and what she'll need to do. I'll text her sometime this week. How's she doing?" Sy thought he heard genuine concern from this dragon woman.

"About as well as someone who's been kidnapped, tortured, and assaulted for a straight week can possibly be, I'd say." Sy's words were civil, but tinged with venom. Even though she was being decent right now, he knew the kind of person she could be.

"Dear God." Susan gasped, shocked at the statement, and Sy wasn't sure whether it was due to the events themselves, or the blunt way he'd told her about them. "Well, I'll do anything I can to help her though this on my end. She's one of my best. I can't…I really don't think I could replace her."

"I'm glad you don't have to try, Susan. Have a nice evenin.'"

"Thanks, Sy, you too."

Sy took a deep breath as he pulled up Clarkson's number and called him. He honestly wasn't completely certain how he was going to explain things, but he'd figure it out. He was good at flyin' by the seat of his pants.

A gruff voice came from the ear piece. "Clarkson."

"Detective, this is Captain Syverson. We spoke about the Benton case a few days ago?"

"I remember you, Sy. What's up?"

"Oh, uh, well, wanted to tell ya you could close the case. I found her." It was the coming conversation in which he would really have to bend the truth or lie altogether.

"Really?! Oh, that's great, man. Where'd ya find 'er."

"I's drivin' 'round, hopin' to come across some lead or sign of her. I was a few miles down highway 100 when I saw a slumped form in one of the ditches. I pulled off at the next drive and went back to check, and it was her. She was hurt, but once she recognized me…I dunno, everything's kind of a blur after that. But I got her checked out at the ER, and brought her home now." Most of that statement was false…but not the recount of them seeing each other for the first time. That was a very real and true fact.

"Highway 100?"

"That's right. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I heard about a terrible, two-vehicle accident on Highway D tonight. No survivors."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He wasn't. "I hope there weren't any kids involved." He knew there weren't.

"Nope. All adult males, aged 30-40. Couple of SUVs. One ran off the road, and another…well, it's almost like it was blown up on purpose. Happened just a few miles from town."

"That sounds horrible, but what does an accident on Highway E--"

"It was D. Highway D." Sy knew it was, and had said the wrong thing on purpose.

"My mistake. My question though, is what does that…tragedy have to do with my finding Shane on Highway 100?"

"That's what I'm wondering, myself, Syverson. See, there was some…evidence that suggests military involvement in this incident."

"Well, I'm retired."

"Are you though?  Is anyone ever really retired from the armed forces. No veteran I've ever talked to can seem to shake off the war shackles."

"Well, I ain't shackeled, detective. I'm proud of my time serving my country, but I got no cause to relive it or hang on to it. Especially now that I have Shane. She's my life now. That part of it’s over."

"I guess I have to take you at your word, captain. Got no evidence so far that ties you to the scene. Just…be careful. If you do anything retaliatory to Miss Benton's captor or captors, I won't be able to protect you, no matter how I feel about your actions. Or how justified they might be."

"Understood. I will keep that in mind should I decide to take matters into my own hands." he tried not to let the smile on his face show in his voice.

"Right, well…is she okay?"

"I, uh…I think she will be…eventually. She hasn't said much to me about what happened, but I know it was torture, or akin to it. "

"Well, I hope she recovers quickly. I'll want a statement from her before I close the case."

"Sure thing. As soon as she's ready to talk."

"Great. Thanks for the call, Sy. I'm glad she's safe now. That's all that matters, really."

"Agree. Have a good night, Clarkson."

He ended the call and rubbed his face as head in frustration with his free hand. They'd have to come up with a story. A good one. Close enough to the truth that Shane could feel comfortable telling it, but far enough of a departure that they weren't incriminated in any kidnapping, murder, or manslaughter charges.

But for tonight, they’d rest. And just be glad to be together again.

Up Next: Chapter 20-Second Assist