#matthew had to one up him there too lol
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fannyyann · 3 months ago
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with his four point night, matthew beat keith to 600 points by 15 games (x/x)
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dreamspring · 2 years ago
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tbh the only ones in the final ranking i was really rooting for were taerae and gunwook… i don’t think the line up is bad or anything they’re all super talented. but im still sad since barely any of my faves made it in
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random percy headcanons:
wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.
literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck
his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)
he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it
will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs
the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.
he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it
percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao
back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone
has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on
weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like
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shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao
bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺
can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao
gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.
movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(
percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake
he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it
has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks
grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic
has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.
he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao
he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence
called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week
the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured
has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him
he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.
he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class
currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!
its his birthday<3
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covenofagatha · 2 months ago
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I went to a new doctor today for the first time... And the (very hot) doctor said "good girl" under her breath when I followed her instructions during part of the physical exam and I nearly died. Is that anything? Doctor!Agatha? Also not sure if I can ever show my face at that doctor's office again.
Good luck the next time you go lol
Hands-on care
You and your boyfriend want to have a baby so you go see Doctor Agatha Harkness at her fertility clinic
Word count: 2500
Warnings: sex, fingering, oral, Agatha is very unethical, cheating, degradation, praise
The decision to have a baby with your boyfriend Matthew was a decision that you made on sort of an impulse. 
You’ve been dating for three years now, after he begged you to go out with him for all of college, and you’ve always wanted a baby. 
You two had talked about it, going back and forth about what that would look like, if you would get married, if you two look to buy a house instead of your one bedroom apartment. 
Matt kept saying the fact that you both couldn’t decide on the little things like that, then it meant you weren’t ready for a baby. So you had put off further discussion about it until one night, you got really drunk. 
Four shots of vodka and no food had you on a different planet, and you had apparently told Matt that you wanted him to put a baby in you that night. 
He didn’t, because you were hammered, but it opened up the door to a heavy conversation the next day and you both decided that you wanted to start trying. 
The Harkness Fertility Clinic seemed like the obvious choice of where to check your fertility and get options, just to make sure nothing was wrong. Everyone in town knew Doctor Agatha Harkness and her extraordinary work when it came to all things pregnancy.
So you booked an appointment and here you are now, staring into space while fiddling with the edge of the hospital gown that the nurse practitioner gave you to put on while you wait for the doctor. 
“You alright?” Matt asks quietly, his brows crinkled. You told him that you would be fine if he didn’t want to come, in case there was bad news, but he insisted. 
You nod and drop the gown. “Just a bit nervous,” you say and he reaches over to squeeze your hand. 
And then there’s a knock on the door and Doctor Harkness walks in, wearing blood-red scrubs and her dark hair tied into a neat bun. 
You didn’t realize how attractive she would be. 
“Hello, how are we today?” She picks up the clipboard from the table next to you and scans it. “It looks like you’re here for a standard fertility check. That will be quick and easy and we’ll have those results in no time.”
It’s hard to breathe with her blue eyes burning through you, but you manage to smile. “Okay, great, we just want to make sure that we won’t have any problems or anything.” Can she tell how hot your cheeks feel? 
She smiles back at you. Hasn’t even looked at Matt yet. “Well, we’re here to make that happen for you.” She launches into an explanation of how the test will happen, something with a speculum, but you are too busy staring at her to fully listen. “Do you have any questions?”
It takes you a moment to realize she’s done talking. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. Thank you,” you stammer and she smirks knowingly.
“Thank you,” Matt says again, causing Agatha to look at him for the first time. Her lips curl and she turns to him with a rather unpleasant look.
“Husband? Why don’t you wait outside while we do this.” It’s not a question, and he blinks at her. He glances at you, like he’s expecting you to tell him to stay, but all you do is shrug. Better to let Agatha do her thing however she wants.
He sighs and kisses your forehead. "I'll be right out there," he vows and you give him a tight smile.
She moves close to you, perches on the side of the recliner you’re sitting on and reaches her hand toward you. You instinctively flinch but relax when all she does is tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. It’s incredibly gentle.
Agatha then trails her hand down the side of your face and grabs your chin, perhaps a little roughly. You let out a gasp that she seems to enjoy too much, and she strokes a finger over your lips. It’s all you can do to not take her thumb into your mouth and suck, and judging by the delighted look on her face, she sees how hard you’re restraining.
It’s so inappropriate. It’s so hot.
“I’ll put a baby in you,” she whispers. Your heart skips a beat. You know she just means fertility-wise you’ll have a baby, but the way she says it makes you wish she was capable of that. “Lie back.” She taps your shoulder and moves to situate herself on a chair by your legs. You spread them hesitantly and put them in the stirrups, knowing your underwear is already wet, just from being this close to her.
The chair rolls to the end of the cot so she's in between your legs now. You turn red again when her eyes drop to you, and she gets a look at what you’re sure is now soaked-through white cotton. Your stomach flutters when she bites her lip, and she meets your gaze with heavy lids.
“Oh, darling,” she says quietly, and you feel her hands moving up your inner thighs and a finger traces up your slit. You can hear the mocking tone in her voice but your hips buck ever so slightly. “I don’t think I’ll need to lube up the speculum with how wet you are.” It’s so wrong and she says it so casually and you didn’t think it was possible to get wetter. But you do, and you know she can tell.
“I’m sorry–” you try to stutter, the humiliation only making the fire inside your stomach grow.
You can practically hear the smirk in her voice. “I’m flattered, really,” she purrs. You wonder if this happens to her a lot; you definitely wouldn’t be surprised. But surely she wouldn’t still be in business if she flirted with all the patients.
She takes hold of your underwear and drags the pair down your legs, helping your feet out of the stirrups one at a time so she can slip them off. She chuckles and you blush harder than you ever have.
Fuck.
How are you going to survive this?
“Alright, are you ready?” You feel her press the cold speculum against your entrance and you hiss.
“Yes,” you squeak. Back to business. She is a doctor, she is Agatha Harkness. She is a tease, but that is all. You need to calm down.
She eases an inch of the speculum in and you grimace. The stretch burns. It would seem that you are not wet enough.
Agatha holds it still to give you time to adjust. “Relax. You need to relax,” she tells you.
“Easier said than done,” you joke with another wince. And then you feel her finger swipe your clit and you clench around the speculum with a spasm. Just a coincidence? 
“Is your husband not doing anything for you at all? Is his dick really that small? I think I might have to stretch you out first,” she remarks like she’s talking about the weather. You’re not exactly sure what she means but your stomach twists. The speculum is removed and placed on the table next to you. She pulls her gloves off.
“He’s not my husband,” is the only thing you have the effort to correct when she slides her middle finger into you. You let out a shaky breath. Agatha bites her lip, eyes dark.
She slowly thrusts into you, her thumb rubbing your clit every once in a while. You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this good and she’s barely doing anything. She pushes another finger in and you moan loudly.
“Better quiet down so he doesn’t hear. Not like he’d know what these sounds are,” she muses, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You’re so close, just from her moving her two fingers inside you slowly.
“Please.” It’s all you can say.
You whine pathetically when her fingers pull out and she sits back, hair mussed, a crazed look on her face. She sucks her finger into her mouth, she moans softly, and you almost cum right there at the sight. 
“You’re so deliciously perfect,” she tells you, and grins while you clench around nothing at the praise.
“Please,” you beg again. “I’m so close, I need you.”
“What do you need?” 
You've never been one to voice your thoughts, especially in bed, but Agatha has a way of pulling it out of you. “Please, I need you so badly. Please make me cum. I need you.” You realize maybe being vocal wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you to do every once in a while, if it’s going to lead to her leaning down and dragging her tongue up your slit, flicking it against your clit. You gasp and your hands tangle themselves in the loose hair from her bun immediately to keep her there.
You can feel her chuckle against you and the echoes only increase your pleasure. Two fingers enter you again, but this time, she curls them fast, and the palm of her hand hits your clit with every thrust. She mouths at your inner thigh before biting and sucking. Marking you. You throb at the thought of the red marks that will litter your legs.
“Oh, fuck,” you groan.
You won’t be able to be naked in front of Matt for a long time.
“God, you’re such a perfect little slut, dripping all over this chair for me,” Agatha comments. “I bet you were wet the moment I walked in. Wanting me to taste you. Wanting me to fuck you like the whore you are.”
You should feel ashamed of how nothing she said was wrong, but you couldn't care less. Part of you is wondering if this is standard protocol for all the women who have trouble with the speculum, or if it’s just you. 
“Dr. Harkness,” you moan and gently tug on her hair. You shouldn’t really be concerned with professionality at this point, what with her head buried between your legs and her fingers inside you and everything, but the title and the hair pull seem to have quite the effect on her. She groans into you and then the real fucking begins.
Her fingers thrust ruthlessly inside you and her tongue thrashes against your clit and you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven.
“Dr. Harkness, fuck, please, need more, need you,” you babble, feeling yourself steadily approaching the edge. 
She pauses for a moment to fit a third finger inside you. The stretch is a little uncomfortable and she gives you a second to adjust, and then she’s back to it.
You come with a moan and it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had by far. From the look on her face when she sits back, finally done fucking you through your climax, she knows it.
Her lips glisten with your wetness, but she makes no move to clean them.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re cumming all over my exam chair,” she says, and it takes all of your energy to not laugh at the absurdity of the statement. What did you just do? “Do you think you’re ready for the speculum?”
You’ve completely forgotten why you’re here, but you nod, and she is gentle when she pushes the cold metal in you for a second time. You’re a little sensitive from your orgasm, but it slides in much easier this time. Your walls flutter around it and you almost moan.
"Good girl," she says in a deep voice.
Before you can tell yourself how wrong it is, you hope that next time she uses a strap-on. Next time? No, there can’t be a next time. You know she would make it feel really good though. She fucked you better with her fingers than Matt has in his entire life, so imagine what she could do with a toy cock.
But Agatha meets your eyes and winks and you can tell she’s thinking the same thing.
She tuts with a hint of a smirk, and you flush red again. You know this won’t be the last time the two of you do this, and there isn’t a single part of you that’s upset about it. 
The rest of the check runs quickly and smoothly, and she goes outside to tell Matt he can come back in. 
You’re worried he can smell the stench of sex in the air or that he will notice the slight sheen around Agatha’s mouth and her mussed-up hair, but if he does, there’s no indication.
Figures.
“Your uterus is extraordinary, perfectly shaped for a baby,” Agatha says, voice dripping with sweet venom, pointing to the pictures to show you what she means. “There should be no problems, but you might want to come in here regularly just in case.” Her hand falls to your upper thigh and squeezes. She watches you bite your lip with a smirk.
“I think that’s a good idea,” you agree, and Matt hums. “Thank you so much for your help, it was so great meeting you. 
“Oh, believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” Agatha says smugly, dragging her hand slowly against her mouth, breathing your scent in. You choke on nothing. 
Matt turns toward you, the happiness evident on his face. “We’re going to have a baby!” He exclaims and you wish you felt just a little bit guilty about what you just did. 
“Alright. Well, I’ll let you get dressed and then I’ll see you next time. Have a wonderful day.” Agatha gives you one last wink and leaves. You and Matt quickly pack your things and you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the gown that smells like sex on the chair. There’s going to need to be some serious sanitation of this room.
Matt is clearly ecstatic about the good news, but you’re honestly dreading the thought of having sex with him after that. Plus you have those marks on your thighs. You inwardly curse Agatha and you make a mental note to try and get some concealer or something to hide it. You’re not sure how well you’ll be able to put off sleeping with your boyfriend, especially not now. 
As you’re walking towards the sliding front doors of the building, you hear your name called. It’s Dr. Harkness, standing on the stairwell that overlooks the lobby. Her bun is fixed now, not a hair out of place, and the wetness around her chin has been wiped off. But there’s no denying the dark look in her eyes.
She gives you a wave. “We’ll have that baby in you in no time.” 
You have no doubt. 
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shockercoco · 11 months ago
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Consequences
Austin butler x reader
Warnings - 18+, smut, riding, P in V, overstimulation, dirty talk, jealous!Austin
Word count - 2925 (I didn't intend for this to be 3k words lol)
a/n - request: “Hi! Please can you write an Austin butler x fem reader smut where he's jealous after watching her film a sex scene and he shows her how it's done? Maybe he's a bit cocky as well because he knows that only he can make her moan?” - loved this ty, I hope you enjoy :)
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“They need everyone back on set in ten minutes,” you hear your assistant tell you from outside of your trailer door, interrupting your inner turmoil.
“Okay,” you tell her, and you hear her walk away as you go back to your thoughts.
You had been pacing back and forth inside your trailer for the majority of your lunch break thinking about your upcoming scene. It was a sexual scene that included you having to be practically naked in a bed with your male co-star.
When you had accepted the role you knew what it entailed, but back then the intimacy part of the script seemed so minor, and you had brushed past it. Given the fact that this wouldn’t be your first time shooting this type of scene, you really shouldn’t be stressing out. During those past roles, though, you hadn’t been dating Austin so it was simple and wasn’t awkward. It’s also not like Austin would have a problem with you doing this either because he trusts you – after all intimate scenes are a big part of the movie industry.
The intimacy coordinator had talked to both you and your co-star Matthew separately to inform you guys on what was expected. You also knew you could always say no, and you would probably be replaced with a body double, but that didn’t do anything to calm your nerves.
Figuring enough time had passed, you exited your trailer and headed back to set where the makeshift bedroom was already set. You saw Matthew in a robe matching yours standing off to the side getting some final touch-ups from one of the makeup artists. He gives you a small smile when he notices  you walking in before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.
You and Matthew had grown close over the past couple of months, which isn’t unusual because you were both the lead actors, and he seemed like a nice person –at least from what you’ve gotten to see. Austin would always tell you Matthew was too nice to you each time he visited you on set, but you never saw it and would tell him that you would be okay. Austin is a persistent man and didn’t deter from his theory, therefore, he would always eye Matthew and keep you in eyesight. You would just silently laugh to yourself when you saw Austin behind the camera eyeing Matthew.
“Matthew’s my friend so this shouldn’t be too awkward. This will all be over before I know –,” you think to yourself, but your thoughts are interrupted when someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Austin there smiling at you.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” you smile back at him as he brings you in for a hug with a quick kiss on your cheek.
“It was a last minute decision. I had to attend a meeting not too far from here, so I thought I’d stop by. I hope that’s okay,” Austin tells you as you lean back to look up at him.
“Of course it is, I was just surprised.”
“What scene are you filming?” he asks you as you two pull away. That’s when he notices the bed sitting in the middle of the room and your robe. “Oh.”
You cringe a little. “It’s just a quick sex scene, you know how it is. It’ll be over before you know it,” you try to reassure him as his eyes find Matthew.
“Yeah, but it’s with him,” he makes a face.
“I don’t get to choose my co-star, Austin. There’s only a couple more weeks of filming, and then we don’t have to see him again until the movie premiere,” you grab onto his arm for him to look at you. He finally tears his eyes away from your co-star to look at you again. He rolls his eyes, not at you, and gives you a nod.
Your assistant comes up to you to tell you that the director is ready to start the scene. You give Austin one last look before going with her and walking into the fake bedroom, Matthew joining you. Crew members start moving around to make sure everything is ready to go, and the assistant director comes over to put you and Matthew into position, followed by the intimacy coordinator. 
You take off your robe underneath the covers, not wanting to reveal yourself too much. Nipple stickers cover the top of you while a skin-colored pad is attached to your lower half. Matthew also has something to cover his manhood.
Once everything is in order, the crew members start filing behind the camera. Austin is also behind the camera standing to the side with his arms folded and jaw tense.
“You okay?” Matthew whispers next to you, and you give him a quick nod. He’s currently laying on his side looking down at you. “I see your boyfriend came to cheer you on.”
You’re not sure how to respond so you just smile at him.
“Just imagine me as shrek or something,” he jokes, making you laugh in response.
“I was planning on it.”
When the lights dim and the director yells action, Matthew doesn’t hesitate to lean down to kiss you, putting his hands on your waist. Austin watches everything from his place behind the camera.
Safe to say Austin wasn’t a fan of the whole process. Austin watched everything from his spot behind the camera – the way Matthew touched and held you, and the sounds falling out of your mouth as you held onto him. There was also more than one take, which made Austin even more agitated and tense. He couldn’t help but wonder if Matthew was getting turned on or if he was messing up on purpose. 
Both you and Austin were relieved when the director called it a day, and luckily that was the only intimate scene that had to be filmed. When you got up from the bed and put on your robe, with the help of your assistant, you saw the look on Austin’s face. You thought it was best to avoid eye contact.
The car ride back to Austin’s house didn’t involve much talking, and when you finally entered the house he was still silent. You decided to take a shower, to wash the day off and to give Austin time to cool down. Seeing that the sun is long gone, you prepare for bed — filming took longer than expected. As you walk out of the bathroom connected to the room you shared with Austin, you notice him already in bed on his phone, appearing to have already showered.
He probably used one of the guest room bathrooms, which isn’t uncommon of him, but given the situation you just find it extremely petty. You can’t help but laugh at Austin’s attitude, but then again you wouldn’t be too happy either watching him have pretend sex with another girl, which is why you try to avoid joining him on set during those days. 
As you climb into bed next to him, he doesn’t even glance at you as he continues to check his emails. You sigh dramitically, hoping to get his attention, as you look at the clock on the nightstand displaying eleven o’clock. Still nothing.
“Austin,” you say, trying to get him to look at you, but he just gives you a hum in response. You call his name again and he just raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something else.
“Are you really going to be upset all night?” You ask him.
“I’m not upset.”
“Are you sure because I’m pretty sure this is what upset looks like,” you point at his solemn face.
He looks over at you pointing at him, still with a plain face, before looking back down at his phone. You roll your eyes at his pettiness as an idea pops in your idea. 
“Is there anything I can do to make it better, at least?” You ask sweetly, even though none of this is your fault, hoping that a little pillow talk will help him get over this. A mischievous smirk grows on his lips before he finally tears his attention away from his phone, placing it aside to look you in your eyes.
“You know, there actually is something you could do,” he says, making you want to rescind your offer at his eagerness.
“What is it?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
He motions for you to sit on his lap by patting his thigh, but doesn’t wait for you to say anything as he grabs your hips to pull you onto his lap to straddle him. He forces your hips down against him causing you to hold back a moan, your thin panties allowing you to feel him grow hard through his sweatpants. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, he then begins rocking your hips back and forth, forcing you to grind down. You place your hands on his chest before gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as your eyes begin to flutter.
“You know what, maybe I am upset,” he leans to whisper into your ear. A shiver runs through your body from the feeling as he continues, “I’m upset that I stood there and watched the way your co-star enjoyed fake fucking you, and after all this time you still don’t see the way he looks at you.”
“He’s acting, Austin, that’s what his role entails.”
Austin pulls away from your ear and looks you in the eye to say,” So he’s still acting even when the director calls cut?”
“He’s just a friend, I promise,” you whine out as you begin to feel arousal pool out of you and form a spot on your panties. Your answer doesn’t bring Austin any comfort. 
“This is exactly what i’m talking about, you don’t see it,” he shakes his head at you and removes his hands from you. “Lift up.”
Confused, you listen and lift your hips to hover above his lap, only for Austin to shimmy his sweatpants down his legs enough for his underwear to be revealed and to pull his hard length out. He then takes the lead and pulls your underwear to the side, grabs himself in one hand, pulls you down a little, and begins to rub himself against your slit. You both groan at the feeling – him at your wetness, and you at his teasing with your knees already growing weak.
“You’re going to take a seat and ride until I’ve had enough,” he tells you, knowing well enough that you weren’t a huge fan of riding. 
You didn’t enjoy taking control, and you would always get tired too quickly, which encouraged Austin to take matters into his own hands and thrust into you until you were overstimulated — not that you didn’t enjoy all of that, you just rather be on the bottom.
You nod before lowering yourself onto him until you’re completely full, taking a moment to take in the feeling before beginning to move. Austin tilts his head up with a sigh, his lips slightly parted at the feeling of your warm, rigid walls swallowing and releasing him repeatedly.
Your hands are on his shoulders now, gripping tightly, using him to help stabilize you. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, Austin looks down at the space between you two, watching as his length continues to disappear and reappear. Your eyes join his gaze and whimper at the sight. 
As expected you feel your legs quickly growing tired, so you lean forward to hide your face in Austin’s neck, using him to place some of your weight on.
“Oh, no. I want you to look at me,” he tells you.
“Austin,” you whine as you move your head away from him. One of the hands on your hips moves to your jaw, forcing your eyes onto his blue ones. His stare sends a wave of warmth to your center, his unpleasant mood turning you on, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem earlier when you had Matthew grinding on you,” he states. He drags his thumb across your lip, tugging it down before releasing it. 
“You know it’s not like that,” you tell him breathlessly as you shake your head. He continues staring into your eyes without responding to you.
Austin finally breaks that contact when he goes to take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. He leans down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around your nipple, and eventually moving to the other. He brings his hands up to your back, bringing you closer to him. This just sends another wave of pleasure through your body, making it harder to keep your rhythm strong. 
You whimper as you look down at him getting lost in his own world, and that’s just enough to make you tumble over the edge. You squeeze his shoulders and let out a cry as a strong rush of pleasure flows through your body and down to your cunt. With his mouth still connected to your breast, Austin can’t help but moan at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, causing a shiver to run through your body. He smirks to himself as he watches you fall apart above him.
He doesn’t let you or himself recover, though, as he flips you onto your back. He pulls his sweatpants, and underwear the rest of the way down his legs before pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it. He then proceeds to rip your thin panties and toss them aside, too impatient and needy to take them off the correct way. He goes to hover you and quickly sinks into you with a moan before pounding into you with intensity, trying to chase his own high. 
Still sensitive and not completely over your previous orgasm, your next one comes almost instantly at Austin’s rapid pace. This one is definitely more intense and as you open your mouth to let something out, you’re met with silence, leaving your mouth hanging open and your eyes closed as you toss your head back and release around him a second time. 
Feeling your walls close around him once again, Austin cums with a deep moan as his head dips down. He never stops thrusting into you, just slows down, as you feel his warm load shoot into you. This prolongs your high and brings you into overstimulation as your back arches, and you finally find your voice to let out a sob as your body continues to quiver and shake. Just when you think he’s going to stop, Austin speeds back up into you, making you place your hands on his waist to grip down.
“Please,” you whimper, wanting to tell him to stop with the continuous torture, but you’re enjoying it too much. He just laughs above you.
“What’s wrong, huh? Too much?” he teasingly asks, but you don’t have the energy to answer. He looks down at the spot you two are connected to see the remains of your orgasm pooling out and onto the sheets below. He watches as your flow of arousal coats him as he continues to plunge into you.
“It can’t be too much, I mean you seem to be loving it too much,” he removes your hands from his body and holds them in his hands as he leans down onto his elbows. You're caged in as he pins your arms to your side. Austin rubs his nose against yours to bring you back to reality, watching as your eyes find his.
“Austin, baby,” you breathe out.
“Austin, baby what?” he asks with a tilt of his head, knowing he has you right where he wants you. He leans down a little to spit into your already parted mouth.
You don’t respond, you can’t respond as you continue taking him in. Your body is on fire, and you can feel your walls constantly clenching down around him.
“You don’t want me to stop, right? I mean there’s no way,” he smiles. “It seems like she doesn’t want me to stop either,” he says referring to your cunt releasing a squelching sound with each thrust from how soaked it is. 
What comes out of your mouth next is nothing but a blabbering mess as you give into him, feeling drool – or his saliva – coming out the side of your mouth. You feel more of your wetness run out of you at his dirty talk, before feeling yourself unexpectedly cumming again. You release for the third time with a shriek as you dig your nails into his hands.
When Austin feels himself coming to his second orgasm, he quickly pulls out before jerking himself off the rest of the way. He shoots his sticky load onto your stomach, marking you as his. You feel yourself clench around nothing, your cunt so used to him diving into it.
Austin uses his finger to swipe some of his remains up from your stomach, and then places his finger on your lips, wanting you to open. You bring him into your mouth before tasting and sucking his finger while looking him in his eyes.
“You better stop before we go again,” he looks down at you, already feeling himself growing hard.
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juniperskye · 1 month ago
Text
Controlled Chaos: Polaroids
Based on the following ask: This is my first time request here and I’m a little nervous😅so I hope I made the idea understandable. I don't know if you've ever seen this trend on TikTok where on the wedding day the bridesmaids give the groom Polaroids of the bride that are like her in lingerie and things like that, and he finally gets all nervous and somewhat smiling and puts them away in his suit after seeing them🥹 You could write something like this with Aaron as he marries the reader and maybe the reader's friends or the BAU girls give him Polaroids of the reader in lingerie, nothing too relevant but something that makes him nervous ☺️ I hope I have explained myself well, if not I am sorry, also take this only if you feel comfortable, if not you have every right to ignore it, I love your work, you are an amazing writer!🩵- I love this idea!!! It’s not a tiktok trend in this fic. I wanted the reader to have her own friends in this (outside of the BAU), This is the type of gown1 gown2 I envisioned and here are some inspo pics for what Aaron received: 1  2  3  4  5  6  for the vows – reader’s are bolded and Aaron’s are italicized
Aaron Hotchner x Wife! Fem Reader
Fluff/ Smut adjacent
Word count: 2510
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (non-specified), some explicit language, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description, wedding and all wedding things, mention of inappropriate photos (boudoir photos), mention of Hotch’s mom (she’s awesome in this lol), OC’s Claire, Daisy, and Victoria (reader’s friends and bridesmaids) and Matthew who is Victoria’s husband, let me know if I missed any!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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The idea had come from your closest friend. She had done a boudoir photoshoot and made up an album for her husband on their anniversary. You were about five weeks away from the wedding, having a lunch with the bridesmaids and it had all spiraled so fast.
“Guys look at these photos I had taken!” Victoria pushed her phone in your direction, showing off a particularly racy photo of herself.
“Damn girl you look hot, what are these for?” Claire asked.
“So, Matthew’s birthday was last week, and I wanted to do something special for him. My sister had told me about this boudoir photographer, and I thought it would be nice to put a little album together for him.” Victoria explained.
“Oh my god…what did he say?” You blushed.
“He was practically drooling.” Victoria laughed.
“You should do that for Aaron!” Daisy nudged your arm suggestively.
“What? I mean, I would, but when would I even give it to him?” You questioned.
“Well, you don’t have to make it into an album! You could just get prints made.” Victoria clarified.
“I’m not sure I’d want like 5x7 boudoir photos of me just around…” You contemplated.
“Oh my gosh! What about polaroids? You could do polaroids and give them to him like one at a time!” Claire gushed.
“Imagine if you gave them to him at the wedding!” Daisy laughed.
“Even better, if we gave them to him!” Claire added.
“You guys are geniuses!” Victoria exclaimed. “You should get the photos taken as polaroids, and you could get the digitals too in case you wanted to make an album of them later, but throughout the reception, imagine if we walked up to Aaron and subtly handed him the pictures of you!”
“Well…I don’t know. He’d definitely be flustered.” You thought about it for a moment. “You know what, let’s do it!”
--
That day the girls took you to a lingerie store to pick up some of your wedding night and honeymoon pieces that you would also wear for the photoshoot.
You had found some pieces that you knew would work under your dress and you were feeling pretty good with everything you had gotten for the honeymoon as well. Some teddies and bodysuits as well as some simpler pieces to sleep in, should you need it, and lastly some swimsuits.
Victoria also reached out to the photographer to see if she had availability within the next few weeks and thankfully she did, the week before the wedding.
--
Time had flown by; your wedding day was finally here, and you couldn’t have been more excited about marrying Aaron.
You had woken up early and had breakfast with your bridesmaids and immediate female relatives. You’d all decided you’d get ready together before heading to the wedding venue.
Makeup and hair was done, dresses were steamed, mimosas were sipped, getting ready photos were taken. The time was finally here…in just a few moments, you’d be walking down the aisle to marry the love of your life.
The girls had helped you into your dress and all gushed over how beautiful you were. They’d stuffed their pockets (because dresses with pockets are so much better) with tissues, lipstick, and the polaroids. Excited to see how Aaron would react.
--
Aaron had cried as you made your way to him, proudly shedding tears that were formed of the love he held for you. Once you stepped up beside him you leaned across and wiped a tear from his cheek which he paid back with a kiss to your palm.
The ceremony wasn’t too long, but the two of you had been adamant of writing your own vows, which arguably was the highlight of the entire day.
My life before you had been on autopilot, just running through the motions of the day to day. You have brought this air of light and spontaneity and just the slightest bit of controlled chaos into my world and I am so grateful for you. So, I want to make a few promises to you as we stand here today in front of our loved ones. I promise to love you in every moment, to embrace the chaos, to enjoy the big moments and cherish the small moments. I promise to give you my all, and sweetheart I will offer advice when words are needed and offer my shoulder when they’re not. You have my heart for always. I love you.
Aaron, I believe that we were destined to find one another. Early on in our relationship, I told you that the story of our lives was written in the stars and if our time together has told me anything, its that it is. You and I always find balance with one another, when I have my head in the clouds, you are there to ground me, when you are buried with work, I’m there with the shovel. People say that relationships are fifty/fifty but with us, we always give our best if I can give thirty percent, you don’t hesitate to give seventy percent…like I said, balance. So, my promises to you, when things get dark, I will bring you light, I will do my best to keep my chaos controlled, I will ensure you feel heard when you speak. Aaron I will have your back when someone challenges you, and I will call you out if you’re wrong. Most importantly I will love you with all of me, for always. I love you.
You both cried through your vows, allowing yourselves to feel and embrace the vulnerability of the love you have built and continued to share over the last few years. Your loved ones cheered as you kissed for the first time as husband and wife, the sound all a haze, fogged by the bliss you were feeling.
Aaron and you went off to take some photos before the reception began. Some alone and some with family as well as the wedding party. Your bridesmaids giggling for what’s to come as you finished up with the photographer.
--
The girls had established a plan for how they’d give Aaron the photos throughout the evening. They wanted to do it in the most awkward possible of moments, and while he was away from you if possible…it needed to be done subtly to avoid others seeing the photos. There were seven photos in total, each bridesmaid would give Aaron two throughout the evening and you’d give him the last one…which was the most risqué.
--
Photo #1
Daisy had the first photo, one that wasn’t too revealing, but it was sexy, nonetheless. In it, you were wearing a lace set with your robe hanging behind you as you let it slip off. The photo was taken from behind as you gaze out a window, revealing the high cut of the lace panties.
She had been the most diabolical of your three bridesmaids, opting for the most awkward of times to hand the photos to Aaron. For this first one, Daisy walked with confidence to wear Aaron stood, having a drink with your father. She slid her hand into his, pulling it up and animatedly thanked him.
“You have made her so happy, and I am just so glad she has you.” Daisy released his hand, leaving behind the small polaroid before sending him a wink and sauntering off towards where you stood with your grandmother.
Aaron was confused at first…worrying that Daisy might be coming on to him, but that fear dissipated and was quickly replaced with a nervous chuckle and a burning heat that crept up his neck as he viewed the photo.
His eyes shot over to where you stood, completely unfazed, paying him no mind. He looked back to your father and uncomfortably cleared his throat, sliding the photo into the interior chest pocket of his jacket.
“You alright there Aaron?” Your father had asked.
To which Aaron replied with a curt nod.
--
Photo #2
Victoria had the second photo. She had been a little more forgiving with the times she chose to pass them off to him.
You had just stepped away from your table to greet one of your cousins when she walked over to where Aaron was now seated alone. She hadn’t said a word as she slid the photo under his fingers where they rested on the table.
“What are you-” He was cut off as Victoria walked away without a word.
He had more privacy to really view this one, so he flipped it over and once again instantly became flushed. You were in a lace bodysuit leaning face-down, over the edge of the bed, back arched and bent legs, your feet up and pointed. The way the light was hitting you in the image was breathtaking and Aaron couldn’t help the tightness that formed in his slacks.
--
Photo #3
The third photo was given to Aaron in between speeches. Dave, his best man had just finished his and Claire had slipped him the photo before stepping up to give her speech.
This one had taken Aaron by surprise, not only the timing but the content. You were lying on your stomach, head seemingly propped up on your hands, once again with your feet up…only this time it was taken from behind. Your body was covered in nothing but your veil and the only thing that covered your naked bottom were your heel-clad feet. The angle had been just right to allow your raised feet to align with where you were clearly naked.
Aaron admired the photo for a moment before tucking it into his pocket with the others. Leaning in close to whisper in your ear.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.
“What are you talking about?” You feigned innocence.
Aaron shook his head and prepared himself for what was to come.
--
Photo #4
This was the first of the more racy photos you’d taken, and Daisy couldn’t wait to give it to Aaron at the worst possible time…like now for instance while he’s chatting with his entire team.
“Aaron!” She called, rushing over to him. “We’re going to do some makeup and hair touchups before you guys dance.”
“Okay, does she need me?” Aaron asked…always the gentleman, putting you first.
“I think she’s good. We’ll be back in a few.” Daisy said nudging his hand with the photo.
She ran off toward you and the other girls to go refresh before your first dance. This time, Aaron blushed before even looking at the photo, completely mortified that it was handed to him in front of a group of profilers. He lifted it as casually as possible, stealing a quick glance before panicking and shoving it in his pocket.
You were leaning back, resting your weight on your forearms, your knees bent just barely out of frame. You head was tossed back…in a way Aaron was all too familiar with. Your body was adorned in white lace that left nothing to the imagination, he was sure that even in the moment he glanced, he could see every detail of your breasts.
“Woah there bossman…what’s got you all flustered?” Derek teased.
“Nothing. I’m good, never better.” Aaron answered all too quickly.
“Was that a photo you glanced at…” Emily inquired.
“No.” Aaron couldn’t help the blush that continued to spread…now burning his ears.
“Aaron, I know you’re not lying to a group of profilers. What is it?” Dave pressed.
“I can’t show you. All I am going to say is that the bridesmaids have handed me some photos throughout the evening.” Aaron scratched his neck sheepishly.
“Ohhh…they’re “photos” of Mrs. Hotchner.” JJ had put it together, now giggling with Emily and Penelope.
--
Photo #5
 This photo, while not the most intimate of them, was given to him in the most shocking of ways. You had just finished your father-daughter dance and Aaron was headed to the dance floor with his mother to share a quick dance before everyone was invited to dance.
Victoria had asked you if you’d be okay with recruiting another helper and you’d agreed. So, she explained the situation to your mother-in-law, and she happily agreed to pass along the photo. She kept it faced down to protect your modesty but handed it off to Aaron with a pat to his chest as their dance ended.
And so, he stood in the middle of the dance floor looking at a photo of you lying on your back, the photo focused on your left hand gripping the white sheets you were lying on, your wedding ring gracing your ring finger. It again was a sight that was all too familiar…and this night was starting to feel like he’d never get you alone.
--
Photo #6
Claire approached Aaron with the second to last photo as you were about to cut the cake. She grabbed his hand and set it on his palm, offered a smile and walked away.
At this point the embarrassment of it all was gone…Aaron was starting to feel impatient, wanting nothing more than to take you to your suite and have his way with you. He knew that there’d be plenty of time for that and shook away the thought. Glancing at this photo, and then up at you as you made your way to him. He was in awe of you and how beautiful you were.
In this photo you were knelt on a bed, the straps of the rose-colored lace bra had slipped off your shoulders and the high cut lace panties showed off the curves of your ass beautifully. Your hair hung to the side with the way your head was tilted.
As Aaron tucked this photo away with the others, he caught your gaze. You shared a quick smile before you walked over to him and continued on with the cake cutting.
--
Photo #7
This photo was different from the others, in more ways than one.
The night had been coming to a close, you had said your thank yous and goodbyes to your friends and family. Your wedding party had loaded all the wedding gifts into the car and you guys were just about ready to make your big exit.
As everyone gathered outside and prepared their sparklers you and Aaron shared a private moment. Stealing kisses waiting for your cue, and just as it was given, you slipped Aaron the final photo. He looked at it, completely dumbfounded, before you took his hand and pulled him along with you toward the waiting car.
In this photo you were stood completely bare in front of a mirror. Your arms were up above your head, having clearly mussed your hair.
--
As you slid into the backseat of the town car, Aaron practically pounced on you, kissing you hungrily. His hands slid down your back along the buttons of your dress.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?" He asked, nipping at your neck.
“Controlled chaos, honey.”
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Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust
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hysteria-things · 6 months ago
Note
(say the reader is famous also, but not an influencer—maybe like a well known model) hear me out, being close friends with madi and you guys end up moving in together and getting your first apartment
and you come home later than usual one night after ‘hanging out’ with matt and madi knows something is up just by the way you’re walking all slow and stuff and you eventually tell her that you had sex with matt for the first time and she’s just like “omgggggg????? tell me EVERYTHING!” and despite not being able to laugh too hard or else you’ll feel like your pussy is going to rip open LOL you two are just sitting on the couch giggle and talking about the whole thing
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PERFECT
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x fem!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: although you’re a well-known model, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body lately. matt thinks it’s bogus, and wants to prove you wrong.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, insecurity, praising, oral (female receiving), pet names, p in v
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,075
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i kind of hate this😔
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before you and matthew sturniolo started seeing each other, he would always lurk on your instagram page. the two of you met through madi, who is your best friend. you guys met at an event a few years ago and clicked instantly. fast forward to today’s time, where you now share an apartment.
you noticed matt being subtle on your page at the beginning of whatever you guys have going on. no, it’s not friends with benefits, being that you guys haven’t had sex yet. he would leave comments such as fire emojis or hypes until he was brave enough to text you a few months ago. that’s how your relationship came to be. nobody knows about it, not even madi or his brothers. you guys made the mutual decision to keep it on the down low for now.
walking through the boy’s bedroom door, you go over to the side of the bed that you sleep on, gathering some of your belongings. you just got back from a photoshoot. being a model has its ups and downs, especially when you’re on the chubbier side. you get a lot of praise from your fans, saying how you’re an inspiration. sometimes, however, it can be frustrating.
“i don’t get a kiss or even a hug?” matt says, who looks away from his phone to stare at you putting your stuff in the overnight bag you always bring.
you look over your shoulder and smile. “sorry.”
as you’re placing the bag down, he’s already sat up and sitting at the end of the bed. you go to kiss him on the temple, but instead, he pulls you over his lap to where you straddle him — although you hover a bit.
he pouts. “you’re not staying the night again?”
shaking your head, you brush a piece of hair away from his face. “i told madi i’ll be home tonight. i feel bad whenever i leave her alone, and i can’t keep up with the ‘my mom needs me to sleepover’ excuse.”
a sigh comes out as more of a groan, his lips traveling to your jaw, pecking down your neck and nipping at the skin. “you can’t put marks, matt.” you say in a whine as he reaches your sweet spot. you take a look at the clock on the nightstand, reading 9:14 pm. “it’s getting late and i have to go. i mean it.”
you get out of his grasp, another sigh leaving his body more dramatically.
matt furrows his eyebrows; something’s not right. he can sense something is bothering you, he just can’t put his finger on it. “what’s wrong?”
laughing nervously, you shake your head. “i’ll get over it.”
“that’s not what i asked— hey.” when you ignore him, he grabs your wrist to turn you around. “look at me, please. tell me what’s bothering you.”
you hate how matt’s so good at this game. he can tell when you’re upset, even in the slightest way possible. you can sugarcoat your true feelings with fake happiness, and he’ll still notice that something isn’t right.
on occasion, you like to look at comments under the recent posts that you make. most of the comments are positive, but one of the downsides of the modeling community is the negative ones. you try your best to ignore them, but sometimes they hurt. this is one of those times.
“i don’t like my body.” you barely whisper, fidgeting with his necklace as you think back to the haters.
“what?” he asks confused.
“forget about it.” you start, tugging at your hoodie sleeves. “seriously, i’ll get over it. it’s stupid people saying shit online. it happens to everybody. it’s fine.”
you do love your job, don’t get yourself wrong, but showing off your body in lingerie as a career can attract the wrong people. in general, it’s quite nerve-wracking. he kisses your cheek before his breath is against your ear. “you’re fucking gorgeous.” he bites the lobe. “let me show you, hm?”
his fingertips brush from your thighs to the hem of your shirt. “can i?” a pulsing sensation starts between your legs, taking your bottom lip with your teeth and nodding.
your shirt ends up on the floor, matt reaching behind your back to unclip your bra that ends up where your other piece of clothing is. he stares, a wide grin plastering his face. “shit.” he says lowly, squeezing your breasts before running his hands down to the buttons of your shorts. the pulsing remains, becoming much stronger.
heart thumping, you don’t make a peep as your shorts and underwear drop to the ground. you’re refusing to look down at your body, but that’s all matt is admiring. a chill runs up your spine as his lips kiss your flesh like before, but it’s more heated while you’re naked and he’s still fully clothed.
they trail to your tits, matt kneeling to reach your stomach and kissing your stretch marks, too. “so pretty.” he mumbles, ending at your thighs and repeating these actions until you’re face to face again.
going over to the bed, he lays back flat and gestures for you to come over as well. you hesitate but do so. he maneuvers your body to hover over him, or in this case, over his face. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you whine, knowing what he wants you to do.
the eye roll is so intense that it’s like you said the most out-of-pocket thing he’s ever heard in his life. “you’re soaked.” he exhales. “all of this for me?”
pink creeps on your cheeks and you nod like how you did before. being so turned on makes it almost impossible to speak. squeezing your plush thighs to keep you in place, he lowers you onto his mouth.
a gasp falls past your lips, his tongue flicking at your folds. you want to get pressure off of him at least a little bit, but he has you fully sat on his face, and he fucking loves it. soft moans along with the slurping noise fill the room, matt’s head shaking at times to feel all of you on his tongue. your pussy tastes incredible to him.
sucking at your clit, his tongue enters your sopping hole. you throw your head back, chest heaving when your moans turn into whimpers. he has you stable in his grip, pure bliss fogging your brain. “oh my god!” you cry out, slamming your eyes shut and grabbing onto his hair.
matt hums, the vibration making your legs close around his head. a hotness forms in your tummy, orgasm building the more his muscle laps in your cunt. “mm— i’m gonna cum.” you gasp, his mouth returning to your clit and sucking at your bud. you swear out loud, legs shaking while you make a mess on his face. you feel his tongue lick the excess cum from your thighs, flinching every time he does so.
in the blink of an eye, he uses his strength to flip you onto your back. your breath hitches as he runs his bottom lip up your body, the clinking of his belt entering your ears until his pants fall join the clothing pile. leaning up to take his shirt off, a grin plasters over his face, admiring your body in every way possible. you lift your head to look down at his rock-hard cock, mouth watering at the sight.
he wraps his hand gently around your throat to push your head back onto the mattress. “you want this dick?” he coos, teasing the tip at your entrance to coat it with your juices. you whine lowly, rutting your hips to get more friction. “hm?”
“y-yes.” you stammer, letting out a choked moan as matt starts pushing himself slowly into your hole. the stretch feels mesmerizing, your eyes fluttering closed when he rolls his hips.
“this pussy has been waiting for this.” he says, humming with contentment when your walls wrap around him. “you look so sexy underneath me.”
“f-faster, please.” you choke out, gripping onto the sheets by your sides.
the movement of his hips plow into you more, your ass slapping against his thighs and an erotic sound comes from where you two are conjoined. numerous curses and whimpers escape your body. his balls slap repeatedly against your clit, the feeling making you gasp and your legs shake. “fuck, matt! yeah!”
“i bet those haters are just jealous they can’t have this beautiful body to themselves.” he starts, pausing to catch his breath. “they can’t fuck it like i can.”
“y-you can’t say that.” you whimper, until the two fingers without rings pacify you. you gag a little around them before you start to suck on them, drool dribbling down your chin. the bed starts to squeak when you wrap your legs around his waist to have him go deeper, your moans muffled by his fingers when he hits your g-spot, back arching from the bed.
“there she is.” he whispers, smiling proudly. “that’s it. you want to cum, baby?”
you clench around his shaft, legs shaking more than they were before. you nod eagerly, the knot tightening in your belly. matt groans, watching your hands go to your breasts to tease and pinch the nipples for more stimulation. you can’t make it out, but you could’ve sworn he mumbles so hot under his breath when his dick twitches inside of you. your eyes roll back, mouth opening wide to scream of pleasure.
body trembling, the knot becomes undone when your cum smears down his red dick, the sight having matt pull out with a whimper. he strokes himself a few times before painting your stomach white.
he collapses on top of you, pecking your lips and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you get a glimpse of the clock and sigh. 10:32 pm. talk about getting home early.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
you finally get to your apartment complex forty-five minutes or so later. you live on the third floor and usually take the stairs, but you’re so soar that you wobble yourself into the elevator. you walk as fast as your legs can take you down the hallway to your front door, keys jingling once you tap the key fab to open it. a beep noise echos, meaning you succeeded.
once you turn the handle, you're greeted with the TV lighting up the living room and madi’s head snapping in your direction where she’s sitting on the couch. “it’s about time! did you not see my texts or calls? you had me worried. you’re never this late after a shoot.”
“i’m sorry.” you exhale. “i had to make a pit stop.”
her eyes slit, watching the way you’re semi-limping to the seat next to her. you grunt when you manage to sit, looking over to see her mouth agape but smiling. “what?”
“you had sex.”
“you don’t know that.” you scoff, but hide your face as much as possible when you blush, reminiscing about tonight.
“girl.” she gives you the are-you-serious stare. “you’re practically shining with the post-orgasm glow, and you came walking in here like an old lady. who was it with? do i know them? tell me, tell me, tell me!”
madi grabs onto your arms and shakes them in excitement, bouncing on her knees on the cushion. “mattandihavebeenseeingeachotherbehindeverbody’sbacks.”
her nose scrunches. “huh?”
you exhale sharply, checking your phone that’s on your lap to see some messages from the boy that had you screaming on his cock over an hour ago. “matt and i have been seeing each other behind everybody’s backs.”
she claps her hands once, awfully loud, before pointing at you. “i fucking knew it. tell me everything. pretty please.”
so you do. you explain everything — well, you leave out the explicit details — and she’s beaming the whole time as you speak. your phone goes off again, and she grabs it before you can. “madi, come on!” you screech between giggles. she reads the messages with wide eyes, and you peek over her shoulder to see.
matt :)
babe
you left your bra here
should i try it on?
i’ll look good in it
hello :(
did you fall asleep already?
i think we should make it official
be my girlfriend please
i’ll see you tomorrow
i love you
whoops never said that before
oh well!
goodnight <3
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew
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homesick4la · 4 months ago
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complicated — hamzahthefantastic
1. pushing it down and praying
contains: a little cheating..smoking, some nsfw content but nothing crazy
summary: after half a year of no contact, you run into your ex at a party.
a/n: kinda got this idea from the lizzy mcalpine song bc i am obsessed with it. so listen if you haven’t lol. also i decided to split the fic but it’s only gonna be two parts!
it’d officially been six months since you and your ex boyfriend went no contact.
the first few months were hell for you.
of course, you went through the stereotypical phase of eating ice cream and crying to rom-coms directly after your break up. but that short-lived phase gradually shifted into one that was much more melancholic once the two of you decided to go no contact.
everyday that you woke up, you were engulfed by an emotional numbness. a dull pain that served as a constant reminder of your grief.
you were grieving what the relationship was and what it could’ve been.
you had always envisioned your future with hamzah in it which is why the lack of communication between the two of you left you absolutely soulless.
you had never experienced such an intense love before him. everything was picture perfect in the beginning. it was even better than the movies.
but after two years, the miscommunication between you to became destructive.
things that should have been minor disagreements escalated into full blown arguments. you’d yell over each other, ignoring each other’s feelings and growing overwhelmingly defensive.
eventually, it became exhausting. you were both so angry all the time and too stressed with work or school to address it properly.
ultimately, you two mutually decided to call it quits. additionally, you later agreed that going no contact would be the best option for both of you.
now, half a year later, you were finally trying to move on.
after reading an endless amount of self-help books, you learned that after experiencing every stage of relationship grief (which you had), you theoretically should be ready to search for love again.
despite your reluctance, your best friends had forced you to join all the dating apps- urging you to hook up with someone new to get your mind off your ex.
it took days of swiping left on men that were literally the epitome of a walking red flag for you to finally find a man suitable enough to go on a date with.
his name was matthew. he recently graduated from college and instantly started a 9-5 working in finance. he spent his free time hiking. he had a golden retriever.
he was kind. he was stable. but he wasn’t hamzah.
you two had gone on a few dates. you had even hooked up after a couple of them.
as guilty as it made you, each hook up was spent closing your eyes- imagining hamzah on top of you. that it wasn’t matthew deep inside of you but it was hamzah; the one that knew your body like the back of his hand and knew just how to please you every time.
you were giving your all to this “moving on” stage but you simply weren’t satisfied.
that being said, when matthew had asked you to attend an old friend’s party with him on your last date, you politely agreed.
now here you were, shuffling through a crowd of sweaty bodies with a man that barely knew you guiding you by your waist.
“how do you know the host again?” you ask, nearly yelling over the music that was blasting through numerous speakers.
“he’s a friend from my hometown, remember? from ottawa?”
“right, right. i remember now.” you look up at him. you did not remember.
you two make your way into the kitchen. he pours shots of vodka into red solo cups and hands one to you.
you feel the familiar burn of alcohol stinging your throat as you down the shot.
“you look gorgeous tonight by the way. forgot to tell you earlier.” he tells you, running his hand up and down your waist.
hamzah would’ve told you earlier. he would’ve been kissing up and down your neck before you even finished your makeup while getting ready. reiterating how beautiful you are each time his lips left your skin.
fuck. there you go again. comparing everything matthew said or did to hamzah.
he’s not in your life anymore, you think to yourself. it’s time to get over him.
“thank you.” you answer matthew, mustering up a smile.
“you ready to go meet my friends?”
“yeah, let’s go! i’m excited to meet them.” you were lying straight through your teeth. but you continued to put on this enthusiastic act simply because he was nice.
he leads you to the main room where you meet a couple of his hometown friends. one named kyle. another named josh.
they were essentially carbon copies of matthew. frat bros that grew up and became finance guys.
you quietly listen as the boys catch up on one another’s lives.
until something, someone, catches your eye.
hamzah. he was across the large room with his back faced toward you. but it had to be him.
you could recognize the shape of his shoulders and you knew that those dark curls stuffed under a camo hat could only belong to him.
you stomach drops. somehow, you had never ran into him since the breakup.
the sight of him mixed with the alcohol made you sick to your stomach.
“hey”, you tap on matthew’s shoulder. “i’m gonna go find a bathroom real quick.” you explain.
“okay, just come find me when you’re done.” he replies before resuming his conversation with his friends.
you turn around, walking in the direction of a long hallway that you knew must have a bathroom.
you turn the doorknob of the first door you find and miraculously, it is a bathroom.
you clutch onto the counter, letting out a sharp exhale.
one of your hands grips to your stomach while you continue taking deep breaths.
in for 4. hold for 7. out for 8. you repeat.
a breathing technique that hamzah had taught you.
you hear the doorknob rattle. before you can say anything, the door is being launched open.
“oh shit! sorry!”, you hear a familiar voice as the door is being pulled closed again. “wait- y/n?”
the voice belonged to mandy. hamzah’s bestfriend’s girlfriend. you forgot that her and martin were from ottawa. they must’ve known the host of the party.
she steps inside, shutting the door behind her.
“are you okay? what’re you doing here? i haven’t seen you in so long.” she pulls you into a hug.
“yeah i’m here with some guy i’ve been seeing. but i saw hamzah and just needed to take a sec.” you explain during your embrace.
she pulls away, looking in your eyes.
“did he see you?”
“no, he was facing the other direction.”
“oh okay”, she nods and looks down.
“yeah. i haven’t seen him since we ended things so, it gave me a bit of panic attack.” you chuckle awkwardly.
“i’m sorry, y/n. break ups suck.” she pauses, “when i went through my first break up, i saw my ex at an amusement park about a month after. and i got so upset, i threw up in front of one of those stupid basketball games where you can win a big teddy bear.”
you laugh at her story, “seriously?”
“yes! it was so bad, the worker ended up giving me one of those huge bears out of pity!” she exclaims.
once your laughter dies down, mandy breaks the silence once again.
“he still talks about you, you know. every once in a while.”
every once in a while. you had thought of him every single day.
“every once in a while?”
“yeah. seems like most of the time it’s too hard for him to talk about. but sometimes, he can’t help himself.”
maybe he did think of you as often as you did.
“anyway”, she continues, “whose this new guy?”
she smirks teasingly.
“ugh. mandy, he’s so boring! but he’s so nice! he’s just- he’s nothing like hamzah. i don’t know- he’s really sweet, it’s just not, exciting? i guess?”
she nods. “well, if you want my advice..i say you shouldn’t stay with someone just because they’re nice to you. a lot of people are nice. only a few people will make you feel ‘sparks’ or whatever.”
you nod understandingly.
god you missed talking to her.
“i gotta get back to martin but if you want to talk to hamzah, he went out on the balcony. and let’s not have to run into each other at a random party to catch up again, ‘kay? text me.”
“okay.” you hug her tightly, “we’ll go for coffee soon.”
she smiles before exiting the bathroom.
you look into the mirror, trying to decide if going out on the balcony is a good idea.
“fuck it.” you whisper to yourself.
you didn’t know when you’d ever get the opportunity to speak to hamzah again. you had to go out on that balcony.
you walk out of the bathroom, sneaking past matthew who was still deep in conversation.
turning the corner past the main room, you find the sliding glass door to the balcony.
there he is. alone. sat on the small balcony, lighting a joint that hangs between his lips.
with his camo hat he wore a pair of dark wash jeans and white t-shirt.
you take a deep breath before reaching to slide open the door.
his head instantly whips towards you, his eyes widening a bit.
“hi.” you break the silence. you feel awkward. what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been completely heartbroken over for the last six months?
“hey.” his eyes soften as he speaks.
“i, um- ran into mandy. she told me you were out here.” you explain to him.
he nods slowly. “come sit.” he pats the space on the floor next to him.
you do as he says. plopping onto the ground and pulling your knees to your chest.
he takes a drag from the joint between his fingers before pulling it out and handing it over to you. you two had shared a joint countless times during your relationship, making the action feel natural.
you bring the joint to your lips, sucking on it for a few seconds before blowing out the smoke and handing it back to him.
“how’ve you been?” he asks.
his voice was calm. you wondered how he could act so nonchalant in this situation.
“i’ve been okay. school’s been stressful.” you say, trying to avoid ranting about the emotional turmoil you’ve experienced since you two separated. “how about you?”
“good. just working a lot. martin and i upload multiple times a week now and run the merch ourselves so it’s been busy, but it’s fun.” his face lights up as he talks about it. he’d always been passionate about his career.
“that’s great, hamzah. i still remember when you had him up on that cracked screen just to have him on the pod.” you laugh.
“oh god, it was a shit show trying to get that thing to run properly.” he chuckles at the memory.
it falls silent for a moment.
“you still gonna become a journalist?” he asks, cocking his head to the side while looking at you.
“that’s the plan, yeah.” you answer.
“good. you were always good with words.”
“yeah?” you smile.
“of course, it’s why i was always calling you smarty pants.”
you chuckle at the nickname you’d forgotten about.
“i thought you were calling me that because of my attitude.” since childhood, you were teased for being bit of a know it all.
“i mean- yeah that was part of it.” he laughs, “but it was mostly because of that big brain of yours.”he taps his pointer finger to your temple.
“well, i don’t feel very smart these days.” you admit. “my grades have been slipping.”
“seriously? how come?”
“just had a rough last couple months.” you try to remain vague.
“your new guy not keeping you happy?”
your eyes widen. how did he know about matthew?
“did you see me with him inside?”
“yeah. i was about to walk into the kitchen when i saw you two together.”
you exhale deeply. “oh, uh. sorry about that.”
“answer my question, y/n.” his voice was low, serious.
“what?” your voice tinged with confusion.
“are you happy?”
you think for moment. you could lie, tell him you’re happy, let him believe that you’ve moved on. but everything in you wants to be honest with him.
“i’m trying to be.” you respond quietly before taking the joint from his hands and up to your mouth once again.
his eyes were glued to you as pushed the smoke from your mouth, like he was studying your face.
“that guy’s not right for you.” he shook his head as he spoke.
“hamzah, you don’t know him.” you’re not sure why you feel the need to defend matthew but you do.
“i can see what kind of guy he is—the kind that can’t even begin to grasp the complexity to you.” he explains.
“you’re high, hamzah. and you’re jumping to conclusions.”, you shift your position on the ground, “based on looks, might i add. didn’t they teach you not to do that in elementary school? the whole don’t judge a book by its cover thing? did you tune that part out?” you say as you stand from your spot. it pained you how well hamzah could read people- how accurate his description of matthew was.
“baby all this rambling makes it seem like you’re avoiding the truth—that he’s not good enough for you. and you’re not happy. i mean has he even noticed how long you’ve been gone?”
you forgot how stubborn this man could be.
you let out a defeated sigh. “it’s none of your business, really. and you’re right, i’ve been gone too long. i should get back to him.”
you steal the joint from his hand and take one last drag before you start to walk back towards the sliding glass door. you hear hamzah rise to his feet behind you.
“y/n, wait.”
you turn around, facing towards him again. “yeah?”
“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.” he apologizes.
“s’okay.”, you shrug your shoulders. “it was nice running into you.”
he nods agreeably.
you turn back around, beginning to accept that this was it. your last few seconds with him before you were back to no contact.
your hand reaches the sliding glass door, about to pull the door open when you hear hamzah’s voice once again.
“y/n, don’t go.”
don’t go.
“what?” you question, furrow your eyebrows.
he takes slow steps toward you, ditching his joint by throwing the remains of it to the floor.
he keeps walking towards you until you’re just a foot apart. he grabs your hand, pulling you to him and shifting your bodies so your lower back rested the black metal railing of the balcony as he stood directly in front of you.
his face was inches from yours. you could so easily lift your head and kiss him.
“come back to my apartment with me.” he whispered.
“why would i do that?” you replied, feeling the pace of your breath quicken due to the close proximity.
“because you miss me.” the corner of his mouth upturned into a cocky smirk. “and i miss you.”
you were speechless. all you could do was stare into his eyes, trying to decipher whether or not those words had actually just left his mouth.
you swallow harshly before speaking, “i’m here with someone else, hamzah. i’m going home with him.”
you try to stand your ground, but god you wanted to give in.
he scrunches his nose and shakes his head as he places his hands on the metal railing behind you, trapping you between his arms.
“but he doesn’t know you like i do.”
before you can respond, you feel his fingers brush your hair away from the side of your neck.
he places his hands on waist as his head falls to your neck, his plump lips hovering above your skin. your head instinctively leans to the side, giving him full access.
“does he know how much you like being kissed right here?” he whispers softly, feeling his lips move on your skin as he speaks.
he presses his lips to place where your neck and shoulder meet, remembering how much this spot had an effect on you.
you shut your eyes in utter satisfaction. you hated how much of an effect he had on you.
you bring your hands to his neck, then weaving your fingers through his curls as he continues kissing, sucking, and nipping at the sweet spots on your neck.
his hands float down, gripping onto your hips- another minuscule touch that he knew drove you crazy.
with his hands on your hips, he pulls your bodies closer. suddenly, the thought of matthew has completely vanished. you’re completely caught up in hamzah, and it felt so good- indulging in his recognizable scent and familiar touch.
you let out a soft moan as his hand falls to your ass, grabbing it shamelessly.
“hamzah, hamzah— i can’t, we can’t do this.” you say breathlessly, using your hand to tap on his chest.
hamzah steps back, his breath unsteady as watches you carefully, his gaze lingering on your lips. for a moment, you think he isn’t going to say anything— that he was just going to turn around and walk away.
but then he leans, his voice low “meet me outside in five.” his tone carrying both a question and a promise.
you feel a rush of nerves as he walks away, opening the sliding glass door and slipping back into the crowd.
you stay out there for a moment, catching your breath.
you shouldn’t go. you know you shouldn’t.
but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you.
next part: with you all night
a/n: yuppppp part two coming very very soon and it’s gonna pick up right where this leaves off. sorry if this is long and boring, tbh i just needed something to distract myself from everything going on lol…k bye muah
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omgrachwrites · 2 years ago
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My Oh My (Mattheo Riddle)
Mattheo Riddle x Potter!Reader
Request: Do you do song based requests? I was hoping for a Matthew Riddle x potter!Reader based on the song My oh my and/or Shameless from Camila Cabello. You are so good at writing that tension in between characters that shouldn't be together but want to break that forbidden love trope lol - anon
Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of sex, wolfstar being adorable
A/N: I hope this is okay anon! Hope you guys all enjoy, I love you all! xxx
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You crept along the silent corridors, hoping to Merlin that you wouldn’t get caught by a ghost, or Mrs Norris for that matter. You would have stolen the Invisibility Cloak if Harry wouldn’t miss its absence, you did always have to remind him that your dad had told you to share it but he wouldn’t listen.
It was well past midnight so it wasn’t likely that anybody was going to be in the Common Room. You grinned as you recalled your earlier activities and your knees almost weakened.
They say he likes a good time (My, oh my) He comes alive at midnight (Every night)
You whispered the password, apologising to The Fat Lady for waking her up and you crept through the portrait hole.
“Where have you been?” a quiet voice came from beside the fireplace making you jump.
“Fuck, Harry!” you swore at your older brother and sighed as he waited for you to answer his question, “I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk,” the lie rolled of your tongue so easily that it surprised you.
Harry nodded, your answer seemed to satisfy him, “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose, “Hermione woke up and you weren’t there so she panicked. Then, I panicked,” he chuckled, “I was just about to come and look for you.”
Guilt twisted in your stomach as you smiled weakly at Harry, “you don’t have to worry about me Harry, I promise. I’m gonna go up to bed, night Harry.”
“Night, Y/N,” he smiled as you went up to bed. You went to bed feeling like the worst person in the world.
The morning dawned bright and early, and you were walking a little bit behind your friends as you all walked down to the carriages. You were still feeling guilty about the night before so you were keeping your distance. You felt a cold hand wrap around your wrist and you were pulled into the nearest broom cupboard.
“What the fuck?!” you yelped, rolling your eyes when you came face to face with the cocky Slytherin. The same Slytherin that you had shared the previous night with.
My mama doesn't trust him (My, oh my) He's only here for one thing But (so am I) Yeah
A little bit older A black leather jacket A bad reputation Insatiable habits
“Hello, darling,” he grinned, his hands coming up to grip your waist, “I wanted to see you before we all go home for the summer.”
“Well, you’ve seen me, Mattheo,” you laughed as he rolled his eyes, “people will get suspicious if we’re in here for much longer.”
“You will write to me this summer, won’t you?”
You cupped his cheek, trailing your fingers across the scar that he’d received from duelling, “I’ll try,” you promised.
He nodded at your answer before leaning in to kiss you, you kissed him back gently, your fingers digging through his curls. As he pulled away he bit his lip and looked away from your face, “I like you, y’know.”
You laughed at the flush that spread across his cheeks, “I like you too.”
Your friends weren’t that far ahead so it didn’t take long for you to catch up with them, “are you alright, Y/N?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, all good,” you nodded, slightly out of breath, laughing when he slung an arm over your shoulders.
It was a couple of weeks into summer when you walked into the kitchen and heard Harry whining to your mum, “why do me and Y/N have to come though?”
“Oh no, where are we going?”
Your mum looked at you with a sigh as if talking to Harry exhausted her, you knew the feeling, “we’re going to The Three Broomsticks for dinner tonight.”
“What, why?”
“Because,” Lily rolled her eyes, “Sirius wants us to meet his new partner.”
“What’s the point in that when they’re just gonna break up in a couple of months?” since your mum and dad had been in school Sirius held a torch for Remus, but he’d never said anything. Sirius’ relationships barely lasted 6 months.
“That’s exactly what I said,” your dad laughed as he walked into the kitchen.
Lily sighed but you could tell that she was trying not to laugh, “don’t encourage them, James.”
When you and your family arrived at The Three Broomsticks you noticed Sirius and Remus sitting at the table. There was no one else there and they looked pretty nervous, “do you think…?” you trailed off, looking at Harry.
Harry shook his head, “nah, they definitely would have told us by now,” you nodded but you knew first hand that that wasn’t always the case.
As you walked over to the table, Sirius smiled up at you all in greeting and you sat down, “so, everyone knows Remus, obviously,” he laughed and Remus offered everyone a little wave like you hadn’t known him for all your life.
“Does this mean that you guys are together?” Harry asked what everyone else was thinking and when Sirius nodded, your heart leapt for joy. Two people who you loved more than anything had finally found each other, you couldn’t think of anything better.
Your mum and dad whooped, “yes! Wolfstar is real!”
Remus laughed, looking relieved that everyone was taking this so well, “what the hell is Wolfstar?”
Lily flushed as she looked at James, “it was our ship name for you in school, we’re so glad that you guys are together!”
Sirius grinned, “thanks guys!”
“First round is on me,” James grinned, “come on, Y/N, you can help me.”
“Oh, dad!” you whined as you followed him to the bar.
You didn’t notice the bartender until he came to take your order, “what can I get for you?”
You froze when you realised it was Mattheo behind the bar, he stared at you in turn, his blue eyes widening. Your dad put the order in and when he wasn’t paying attention, you leaned over the bar to speak to Mattheo.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He shrugged as he poured the pints, “thought I’d keep myself busy,” he hissed, “since the only person I want to speak to won’t reply to my letters.”
You bit your lip, you really did feel bad about that one, it had been a jam packed summer already, you hardly had any time to write secret little love letters, “Theo…” you trailed off as your dad paid for the drinks and Mattheo shook his head at you.
As Remus explained how Sirius finally had the guts to tell him how he felt, you couldn’t help but watch the handsome boy behind the bar as he walked from customer to customer with cat like grace. He grinned at a little old woman and spent a lot of time speaking with her, you wished you could hear what he was saying. You liked him like this, it always seemed as though he had to put up a front in school, you wished he could be himself but you supposed you couldn’t blame him, considering who his father was.
Unfortunately, you weren’t as subtle as you thought because your mum saw you looking at him, “who’s that behind the bar?”
“A boy from school,” you muttered, taking a sip of your Butterbeer.
“He’s Mattheo Riddle. Voldemort’s son,” Harry blurted out.
“Harry!” you hissed.
Lily scowled as she eyed him curiously over her wine glass, “he looks like trouble, I hope you’re staying away from him, Y/N.”
“Of course mum.”
When you spotted Mattheo going outside, you made excuses about how you wanted to get some fresh air as you followed him out. You found him leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette, “those things will kill you, y’know,” you giggled.
“Among other things,” he blew out some smoke, not looking at you.
“Theo,” you sighed walking towards him, “I’m sorry that I haven’t been writing to you.”
Mattheo sighed as he looked at you, touching your cheek, “I understand, you have to protect yourself.”
“I’m not trying to protect myself, I’m trying to protect you! Do you what my parents would do to you if they found out about us? Not to mention my brother.”
Mattheo smirked at you, his blue eyes surprisingly bright in the dark of the night, “trying to protect me huh?” he grinned when you nodded, “I lied by the way, when I told you that I liked you. I meant to say that I really like you,” he flushed and you marvelled at how something like this could embarrass him, after all you would together in The Room of Requirement.
“I really like you too.”
Mattheo flicked away his cigarette as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he leaned in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips, tasting the mint of his gum and the smoke from his cigarette, it was an intoxicating taste.
He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe Yeah, I said, "If you kiss me I might let it happen"
I swear on my life that I've been a good girl Tonight, I don't wanna be her
He pulled away from you slightly, resting his forehead against yours, “a forbidden, secret romance is actually pretty sexy, Y/N,” he smirked.
“You’re such a prick,” you laughed as you pulled him in for another kiss.
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reidsmanuscript · 1 month ago
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The off the record story
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Summary: A cheating ex, a golden Amex, and tequila-fueled revenge—what could go wrong? Meeting him wasn’t part of the plan, but sometimes the best nights start with chaos and end with unexpected sparks. Pairing: mgg x actress!reader Tw: alcohol consumption, cheating, kinda emotional manipulation?, revenge, mention of being drunk idk what else lol wc: 1.8k! A/N: this is my first post and im so anxious omg hopefully you will like it! Masterlist
         .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.      
Matthew and you actually knew each other way before you started being coworkers in Criminal Minds. If somebody asked you in an interview you would say it was on the set of “The beauty inside”, where you had so much fun together running across the museum for the shots.
The reality, though, was better. 
You had actually met on a night that started as personal revenge. The plan was to wear your best outfit, steal your boyfriend's credit card and max it out in every expensive bar you could find in New york. Why? you had found out he was cheating you with a model. Were you going to cry yourself to sleep? probably later, because it did hurt. But for now? Fuck him and his stupid songs, they were too generic anyway and you were a rising star among movie directors. 
It was in the third bar that you and Matthew crossed paths, introduced through a friend who knew him from college. You already had two shots in your system by then, the awkwardness and ability to feel cringe burned away by tequila and adrenaline.
“Hey guys! This is my friend Matthew! we were together in college!” Your friend’s voice was too cheerful, slurring slightly as she swayed on her heels. Matthew gave a small wave, his hand awkwardly brushing through his messy hair, looking every bit the guy who didn’t belong in a place like this.
You barely registered his name at first, your head still buzzing with tequila and the bitter satisfaction of using Austin’s credit card. But when you glanced up from the dance floor and noticed there were more people in the group and that your feet were starting to hurt, time to get more booze. 
Walking to the table, you called out to everyone while looking for the Golden Amex. “Okay, everyone, I am not feeling drunk enough, so to the bar we go!” You held up the card between your middle and index finger, grinning as the table erupted in cheers and a few drumrolls pounded on the wood. You led the charge, your friends stumbling after you in a glorious, tipsy parade.
“Hi Joe! We need to max this baby out, so let’s start with…” You glanced back at your friends for inspiration, counting them off and ticked off a list of drinks for the group, each one more elaborate than the last, adding, “And a Espresso Martini for me. For the drama.”
Joe gave you an amused look, already knowing exactly what you meant, he was the one who’d caught your boyfriend in the act, after all. He wasn’t just your bartender tonight; he was part of the crew that had helped you plot your revenge,"Anything else?" he asked, still shaking a cocktail.
You glanced at the guy your friend had just introduced as Matthew. He stood slightly apart from the group, looking a little too put-together for the chaos around him. “And what about you?”
Matthew shook his head awkwardly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Uh, I’m fine, thanks.”
You couldn’t help but notice his messy chocolate curls along with his hazel eyes and the way his shirt fit, casual but not careless. “Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning a little closer. “I love spending money when I’m drunk, so the more expensive your order is, the more I’ll like you.” You flashed him a tipsy smirk, your eyes half-lidded and daring.
Matthew gave a soft laugh but shook his head again. “I’m good, really.”
You turned to the group, just in case. “Anyone else want something exotic or complicated, like a Negroni or a frozen margarita? I’m on a roll here.” You gave Matthew a playful look, fully expecting him to refuse again.
Rolling your eyes dramatically at his denial, you turned back to the bartender. “And a tequila shot, please. If he won’t drink it, I will.” You kissed the card and handed it over.
When you turned back, Matthew had moved closer, leaning slightly against the bar. “You don’t look like your name is Austin,” he said, his tone light but curious.
You chuckled at the way he said it, drawing out the name as if testing it. “Well, it’s not.” You extended your hand, introducing yourself with a grin. He took it, his grip warm but hesitant, and maybe your hand lingered a second longer than it should have. Or maybe it was just the alcohol.
“It’s my boyfriend’s... soon-to-be ex’s name,” you explained, motioning toward the card now sitting on the bar.
Matthew raised an eyebrow. “So, let me get this straight: you’re celebrating by using his card to buy drinks for a crowd of people?”
“Exactly,” you said with a grin, lifting your espresso martini as the bartender placed it in front of you. “It’s what he deserves. A little payback for cheating with some model.”
As an actress and newly public figure, you didn't want too much pictures of yourself getting wasted at a bar at the moment, the public would understand it once the news of your unloyal boyfriends gets out, but for now nobody except your friends knew, not even Austin knew that you knew, but alcohol made everything seem so stupid and funny and who cares right? The fact that he had cheated did hurt you, not like a full heartbreak what-did-i-do-wrong? type of thing, you considered that you both were a good couple and you both got introduced to each other by your agents saying it would be good to be seen together as a rising singer and rising actress. And it was him the one who insisted on being fully exclusive and very public, after the rumors about you and your costar and love interest in the show you were in, so why take the effort to just screw up anyway?.
Matthew raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. "So you're celebrating by maxing out your boyfriend's card before dumping him?"
You grinned, leaning slightly closer. "Exactly. Call it... a down payment on my emotional damages. And trust me, Matthew," you drawled, savoring his name like the martini you were drinking, "I deserve every penny."
As you sipped your drink, you studied him more closely. His curls were slightly messy, his hazel eyes warm but cautious. There was something familiar about him. “Wait a second,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “I know I’ve seen you before.”
He gave a small shrug. “Maybe. I had a small role in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou recently.”
Your eyes lit up. “The one with the little curls! I knew it! I’m a huge Wes Anderson fan.”
He chuckled. “Good taste.”
“And you? Netflix, right?” he asked.
“HBO,” you corrected, taking another sip. “City Lights.” you said casually, trying not to make it a big deal. “It’s still pretty new, but people seem to like it so far.”
You were actually really proud of yourself for being in that show, the numbers were going up and your dream was going from a thin line to a more consistent future where your parents expectations did not matter. 
He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. “I think I’ve heard of it. Sounds like it’s picking up steam.”
You grinned, tapping your glass against the bar. “Well, let’s hope so. Otherwise, I’ll just have to keep crashing bars with stolen credit cards for fun.”
Matthew laughed, shaking his head. “I have a feeling you won’t need to do that for long.”
“And what about you? will i see you in the big screen any time soon?” you asked
He chuckles and shakes his head “Hardly.. i've been auditioning for this show.. they called me for a third time this morning and said again that im perfect just totally wrong for the part”
You huff with humor as Joe slid the rest of drinks across the counter, and you pushed the tequila shot towards him. "Here. Your reward for getting casted."
"I told you, I don't really drink plus i haven't got the part," he protested.
"Matthew," you said dramatically, as if it was the most serious thing in the world, "A face like that is the type that gets casted and if you don’t take this shot, I’m going to have to drink it, and I’ll probably embarrass myself. Do you want that on your conscience?"
He laughed, genuinely this time, and finally picked up the shot glass. "Fine. But only because I don't want to be responsible for whatever happens next."
You clinked your glass against his. "Good choice."
As you both downed your drinks, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, curious and maybe even intrigued.
Before you could reply, your blurry vision caught sight of Austin walking into the bar.
Your smile froze for half a second. Then, with the skill of an actress, you stood up, finishing your martini in one last sip before looking at Matthew. You grabbed his arm with a grin. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you said. “But if the tabloids ask, I paid for this martini myself.”
His laugh followed you as you walked away, maybe letting your arm linger a little, slipping into the role of the charming, oblivious girlfriend for Austin’s benefit.
The second part of your plan was in motion now. Getting Austin wasted wouldn’t be difficult, he was a lightweight, after all, and when he eventually found out about the card, you'd just say it was probably someone else who stole it when he was drunk and used it. By the time the dust settled, you’d be long gone. You were sure of it.
You flashed your best smile, scrunching your nose at him playfully, something you knew would make him think you were still into him. The truth? You couldn’t stand him anymore. But the smile felt easy enough. It wasn’t like you had to try to be nice to him anymore. You were almost done with him, just had to play it out a little longer.
But as you laughed and played your part, you felt the weight of Matthew’s gaze on you. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe some chocolate curls or maybe it was something else, but for a moment, Austin didn’t seem all that important anymore.
The night ended with Joe calling you to say the card had reached its limit, you secretly high five all your friends, including Matthew, as you signed the receipt, doing a quick math for Joe’s collaboration, leaving a very good tip.
So yeah, if anyone asks, you and Matthew met on set. Not in a bar, not with tequila and revenge. Definitely not while maxing out Austin’s credit card. Just a normal, boring introduction, nothing worth writing about.
         .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.   
Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3
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chukys-mouthguard · 4 months ago
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what are the odds? | part 5
matt rempe x female reader; featuring numerous side characters
social media au!
part 4
your.name.here
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liked by addison.clark, alleyrempe, francesca.kreider and 317,402 others
your.name.here what the cake says 💋
alleyrempe booking a flight and flying in asap
liked by your.name.here
user41048 wait what?! They were just together in Calgary and seemed good?! 😭😭😭
-> user62048 if they can’t last then i give up 🥲
addison.clark nothing some cake and wine can’t fix 😘
-> your.name.here more like lots of cake and wine
-> francesca.kreider i know a jacket we could burn 🙈
-> francesca.kreider but apparently chris said he gave the boy a talking to
-> addison.clark k’andre called him immediately lol, the boys aren’t letting him fuck this up
liked by your.name.here
-> your.name.here well maybe we don’t burn the jacket then just yet 😬
user31048 WHAT. HAPPENED?!
-> user63048 no clue because they were just at stampede…but seems like he did something
-> user63048 and kreider and k’andre are trying to help fix it lol
tybauer_ he says he’s sorry
-> your.name.here well he can tell me himself if that’s the case
mattrempe if you’d answer my texts and calls i could apologize
this comment was deleted by mattrempe
mattrempe I’m sorry 😞
user20549 what did he do????
-> user52048 i don’t think it was something with another girl
-> user10459 it’s probably just been the pressure of the public on their relationship making them uncomfortable or something
liked by your.name.here
user07493 can she let him apologize so they can fix things? They look so happy together 😭
liked by mattrempe
mattrempe
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liked by trevorzegras, tybauer_, chris.kreider and 345,130 others
mattrempe hockey boy summer 😎
alleyrempe matthew rempe…the caption, really?
-> mattrempe i thought it was funny…
-> alleyrempe not with the shit you’ve got going on right now, it seems a bit like a dig
-> mattrempe let me get my shovel to get myself outta this hole 🫠
liked by your.name.here
user40275 soooo they aren’t together??
-> user10489 he says the caption was a joke, but it appears like a response to her post 😬
-> user70248 big yikes…
trevorzegras let me know if you ever want to pass along a few inches so i don’t look so damn short next to you big fella 😎
-> mattrempe i like my inches where they’re at 😎
chris.kreider dude, k’andre and I are gonna beat your ass
-> kandre.miller i like to think it’s one too many punches to the head that have him acting this way but…
-> mattrempe the caption was a joke! I’m sorry! 🙃
user20458 i feel like it’s something serious if they are all giving him so much shit…
-> user10383 did we all forget he’s literally 22? Like he probably did something dumb and they are just trying to help him fix what he had with her
liked by alleyrempe, your.name.here, and kandre.miller
-> user10348 they probably see she’s good for him and just want him to fix it, i don’t think it was something bad
liked by mattrempe
your.name.here hockey boy summer must be real fun without me cheering you on
this comment was deleted by your.name.here
your.name.here can you take a break from hockey boy summer for 5 minutes to talk??
liked by mattrempe
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ivrousae · 4 months ago
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✦ Apocalypse
Arguments with ZB1
Hyung line | Read Maknae line version here (on progress.)
- Genre: angst, hurt, comfort, fluff
- Pairings: zb1 x reader
- Warnings: swearing, explicit language, mentions of drinking, etc. ! This writing might be sensitive for some people !
- a/n: someone requested this and i wrote it a while ago..this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts yo😭😭 hope yall like it lol, i’ll write maknae line soon ok
Playlist:
- Jiwoong: Cry - CAS,
- Hao: Anaheim - NIKI
- Hanbin: Understand - Keshi & Seasons - Wave To Earth
- Matthew: Promise - Laufey
- Taerae: Try Again - Jaehyun, d.ear
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✧ Jiwoong
- Your relationship with Jiwoong is fine, but there are days when the two of you have your hectic days, and this week is one of them. Jiwoong is busy, making him stressed and often frustrated, and the same goes for you, the whole week would be filled with sudden arguments coming around here and there, and it’s about time that you’ve had enough. “You know, I wish we never-” “Don’t say it, you know you shouldn’t be saying things you don’t mean,” Jiwoong said coldly, cutting off your sentence before you could continue, “Well, what if I mean it?” you forced out a chuckle, “No you don’t y/n, stop it” Jiwoong sighed, piercing your eyes with his strong yet meaningful gaze.
Without realizing it, you were shouting at Jiwoong, releasing all of the emotions you’ve held the whole week, “Why couldn’t you be there? I was there when you were stressed, I was there when you needed me but you weren’t there, Jiwoong? Where were you when I was all alone? Where were you when I needed you the most? Huh?” you said, tears falling from your eyes as you pushed Jiwoong’s shoulder, “Babe…” he slowly said, realizing that he messed up, realizing that he hurt you. Jiwoong placed one of his hands on your shoulders, the other hand placed on your cheeks, wiping off your tears as he kissed your forehead, “I’m sorry, let’s talk it out slowly, yeah?” he said, his tone full of guilt “Give me some time” You stepped away from him, making your way to your bedroom before locking yourself in.
[ read Jiwoong’s text before continuing ]
After replying to his texts, you went out of your bedroom to eat the dish he cooked in the kitchen. As you made your way toward the kitchen, you found Jiwoong lying down on the couch, you sighed, grabbing the plate of food that he prepared and placed it on the table in the living room before sitting down beside Jiwoong, “Hey” you sighed, taking a bite of the food “Hey babe, have you gotten the time you needed?” he asked softly, sitting himself down to sit closer to you, you nodded, avoiding eye contact, “Look, I’m sorry, yeah? I was so carried away with work, that I didn’t notice I was hurting you so much, I’ll be here for you now, so I’m sorry, babe” “It’s fine, I was carried away with work too that I got frustrated, I just don’t want to fight with you again” You looked at Jiwoong who already had his eyes on you “I love you,” he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head “And I always will”
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✧ Hao
- With the same reason as Jiwoong, you and Hao often fight because one or both of you would get carried away from stress. When Hao is busy with work, and you’d also be busy with your work, the two of you would get sensitive, you’d talk back, and he’d talk back, and then it’d just turn into a big fight.
“Can you not?” Zhang Hao said as he stopped typing from his laptop, his voice slightly raised as his frustration grew “Huh? I was just trying to get something” you replied, it was clear that you were also frustrated and annoyed at that point, “You keep on coming back and forth, I'm trying to work on something, stop being so fucking loud” he spoke out again, his tone filled with anger, “What the fuck, Hao? I’m trying to work on something too right now, I’m sorry for being loud but can’t you say it nicer?” You scoffed, the volume of your voice raising and raising, “No, I can’t say it nicer because you’ve been such a bother this whole time, Y/n.” he shouted “Hao?..” you quietly spoke as his words pierced you straight in the heart “Get out” he firmly said, “Why are you like this?” You said as tears fell down your face, you walked out of the door before slamming it, leaving your boyfriend all alone.
Hao felt a little guilty about his words, but he quickly ignored his feelings and continued with his work, he kept on getting distracted yet again, but this time, it was because of the sobs he heard coming from you in your bedroom.
[ read Zhang Hao’s text before continuing ]
After replying to your text, he went over to the kitchen to make you your favorite drink before knocking on your door “Baby, it’s me” he softly said “What do you want?” you replied, your voice still shaky from crying so much “I want to apologize, I made your favorite drink too” he sighed “Just say it from there, I don’t want to see you yet” you spoke out, Hao took a deep breath, he wanted to see you, but he knew that you needed your space, “I’m sorry, you know how I get when I’m stressed, I’m sure you’re tired of having to deal with me when I get like this babe. I’m so proud of you for being able to be so strong, I’m proud of you for also working so hard, and I’m proud of you for loving me. I’ll treat you better starting from now, so let me hold you, please?” he begged, his voice starting to get shaky mid-way.
As he stood in front of your bedroom door, he saw the door open, showing you with your red eyes, you walked closer to him, pulling him into a hug, and he did the same to you. The two of you hugged each other for a long time before letting go of each other “Let’s get ready to sleep, it’s getting late” Hao smiled, tucking back your hair behind your ears.
“I love you so much” he spoke out, giving your lips a quick peck.
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✧ Hanbin
You had a team dinner after work, but you didn’t tell your boyfriend Hanbin about it because you didn’t think that it would be that big of a deal.
But after the event, you opened the door of your front porch and entered your house late at night. When you walked in, you saw Hanbin sitting down on one of the chairs in the kitchen aisle, his eyes focused on his phone “Hey bin” you quietly said, “Why didn’t you read my messages?” he replied as he looked at you, his voice slightly annoyed and his face straight, his eyes showed mixed emotions, from worried, to anger, to sadness, to tiredness.
You showed a confused expression on your face, “you texted me? I didn’t get the notification I'm sorry” you apologized while checking your phone, realizing that he texted you many times while being worried, “Look at the time, where were you this whole time?” he asked, his tone sounded angry but his volume was still low, “I had a team dinner, I didn’t think that it was a big deal so I didn’t tell you” you replied “Team dinner? You went to a team dinner and didn’t tell me because you didn’t think it was a big deal? Y/n, you could’ve gotten drunk, what if something happens to you? Huh? What if you get hurt, or they do something to you?” he spoke out, his volume getting louder and louder “Hanbin, it isn’t a big deal, I’m here now and nothing happened so calm down” “The least you could do is inform me, is it that hard to text me before hand? It’s already midnight and you just got home a few minutes ago, you know I hate it when you don’t inform me about things like this” he brushed up his hair that was covering his eyes before placing both of his hands on the counter, breaking the eye contact he had with you “Okay fine, I’m sorry, I’m tired right now so just stop making this such a big deal” “This isn’t the first time, y/n” “Oh my god, Sung Hanbin I said I’m tired, leave me alone” You shouted, walking yourself out the door, leaving your boyfriend standing alone.
As you stormed out of your house, you drove yourself to a place that could calm you down, you felt bad for storming out on Hanbin like that, but you were too tired to listen to him, you know he was worried about you, but you still needed time.
You sat down on the bench beside the river, focused on the sight of the night sky before feeling your phone vibrate from notifications.
[ Read Hanbin’s text before continuing ]
You stayed for a few more minutes before driving yourself back home. When you arrived and entered your house, Hanbin rushed over to you before hugging you “I’m sorry sweetheart, I was just worried about you, I didn’t want you to get hurt because I care so much about you and I love you. I’m sure you’re tired so I prepared the bath for you, go clean yourself up and talk with me, yeah?” he spoke softly, placing soft rubs on your back and your head “You didn’t have to do that, Bin” you replied as your chin rested on his shoulders “Well I already did” he laughed “Again, I’m sorry” he sighed “It’s fine, you did nothing wrong” you let go of the hug before rubbing his shoulders
“I love you” he enunciated and pulled you into a meaningful kiss.
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✧ Matthew
Matthew was going out with his friends and he promised to be home by 8 PM, so you stayed up and waited for your boyfriend to come back home. However, it seemed like he had forgotten his promise because the time was already 10.30 PM and there were no signs of Matthew yet.
The time was 00.08 AM and you heard the front door open, by that time, you were already annoyed at your boyfriend who forgot his promise, so you stayed in your room, not wanting to go downstairs and see him. Your bedroom door opened, showing your boyfriend with his black top and jeans, “Hey babe, you’re still awake?” he said lazily as he placed down his hat, you replied with a hum, too frustrated to reply with words, “Forgot I promised to come home earlier, my bad” he said, even with his apology, it seemed like he wasn’t so sincere with his words. “Why did you come home so late?” you asked “I was out with my friends, what did you expect? You could’ve just slept and not waited for me, you know?” he replied “Of course, I waited for you, but then you weren’t home yet and I couldn’t sleep so I continued waiting?” you scoffed “Well I’m home, so just go to sleep and stop being so dramatic” he groaned, leaving you to change in the bathroom.
As he came back from the bathroom, you tried to talk to him about it but he completely ignored you, not wanting to talk to you, “What the fuck Matthew” you sighed, seeing Matthew getting up and leaving the room again.
Matthew, who tried to ignore you, seemed to be struggling when he went downstairs to leave you alone, he tried to distract himself by watching the TV, but he’d constantly fidget with his fingers, or he’d constantly let out a deep sigh, signaling that he had a lot in mind. He gave up on trying to ignore you and quickly pulled out his phone from his pockets to text you
[ Read Matthew’s text before continuing ]
Matthew went back upstairs, knocking on your bedroom door before entering “Babe” he softly said “Hm?” you replied “Can I hug you?” he asked, making you chuckle “Why?” “Look, I’m sorry, I know I was wrong, I just felt tired and I said something that hurt you” he apologized “It’s okay, thank you for apologizing sincerely” you replied, going over to Matthew to hug him “Fuck, I love you so much” he muttered, kissing the top of your head in between your hug
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✧ Taerae
Fighting was never a big thing in your relationship with Taerae. When you guys fought, it was always about something unserious and silly, and there were barely any times where the fight gets BIG.
But the two of you often bicker with each other, especially because you often get sulky with Taerae. This time, Taerae jokingly said something about your cooking, of course, it was a joke, because honestly speaking, he thinks your cooking was so good, but it was natural for the both of you to make joking comments and bully each other from time to time, it’s like your love language with each other. But what he didn’t realize, is that you’ve had a little bit of a long day that day, and you were already in a bad mood before he commented about your cooking. You knew he was just joking, but you were still feeling a little mad, you didn’t feel the best after all.
“Is it that bad?” you asked after Taerae commented on your cooking “Yes” he laughed “I’m joking babe, it’s good” he smiled, patting your shoulder as an apology, but you already felt bad, you showed a sad yet frustrated expression on your face, avoiding eye contacts with your boyfriend “Hey, babe, I was joking, I’m sorry, it’s really good” he apologized again, this time, with words, “Still” you whined “Aw, baby don’t get mad, I’m sorry” he squished your cheeks, but it didn’t make you feel any better “I’m going upstairs, enjoy your food” you rolled your eyes, leaving the table before going upstairs into your room.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that” Taerae groaned at himself when he saw you leave, massaging the temple of his head before finishing the food you have cooked him. He wanted to go upstairs and talk to you but he knew you just needed your time, so he let you stay inside your room before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
[ Read Taerae’s text before continuing ]
After reading Taerae’s text, you wiped off your tears and went downstairs to see him after you felt a little better, Taerae immediately stood up from the couch when he saw you walking downstairs “BABY” he shouted, running over to you before hugging you and kissing your lips “I’m sorry, I love you so much, please tell me when you‘ve had a long day, okay?” he comforted you before planting one last kiss on your jaw.
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starvity · 1 year ago
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— ☆ zb1 reacting to you asking them to teach you how to kiss
gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)
genre: fluff, suggestive, drabble // warnings: kissing, teasing, some of them might be a bit suggestive?, lots of physical contact lol
author’s note: in this context you've been dating bf!jebewon for a while and haven't had your first kiss yet :D (★ω★)/ [requested♡]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong
"did you practice a lot for this?" you carefully ask jiwoong as one of his kiss scenes shows on the tv screen. he laughs nervously "why? are you jealous?" his lips curl up into a daring smirk. "not at all, i just would like to get a class from mr. kim, too" you say cheekily. "you should get into acting then." he smiles in fake sympathy and you glare at him until he scoffs at your annoyed face. "i got you, i’ll do it for free. just for you." he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer until your noses touch. "first, you give them a small kiss" his actions follow his words and your face scrunches up out of shyness. "and then… well you just have to know." jiwoong's lips suddenly start to slowly move against yours.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao
hao and you were spontaneously cuddling on a sunday morning. both of you are always too lazy to get up so you spend hours talking in each other’s arms, sometimes going back to sleep between each topic. but today you both seem a bit more touchy and eager, hands brushing against each other’s neck and waist. "can i kiss you?" he exclaims, hair messy and sleepy eyes. "but… i’ve never kissed anyone before" you admit, cheeks dusted with pink. "can i be your first?" he smiles, turning his head towards your hand that was holding his cheek to plant there a chaste kiss. you nod as he slowly leans in, taking things slow until you find a rhythm that suits you.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin
a casual conversation with hanbin eventually lead to the topic that you've been so preoccupied about. he is shocked when you admit that you’ve never kissed anyone and he’s looking at you with big doe eyes, wondering how someone as beautiful as you has never experienced kissing. you start to hide your face in the crook of his neck, embarrassed by your confession and hanbin’s eyes widen even more, if it’s even possible. "no, no, that’s okay!! sorry, i don’t want you to think i’m judging you or anything." he finally realizes how his reaction might have come out. he’ll start off with a few kisses on your cheeks, on each side and with breaks between every single one of them to look deeply into your eyes. he smiles softly before pecking your lips over and over again until you find the courage to deepen the kiss.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew
you were studying with matthew as a question pops into your mind. "have you kissed anyone before?" his head perks up from your voice, a grin already starting to form on his face. "why? want me to teach you?" you can’t help the blush quickly spreading on your ears as he has seen right through your brain. "it’s not like physics" he sets his pencil down on his paper, which happened to be filled with formulas. "you just have to feel it" he explains, reassuringly taking your hands in his, dragging his chair towards yours. the first seconds are awkward, which causes him to giggle against your lips but you quickly get the hang of it as you focus on your feelings towards matthew, utter love, that is.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae
"can we practice something else?" you sigh, a bit tired with how taerae has been practicing guitar and ignoring you for a few hours now. you have been craving for his attention and the romance novel you were reading did not help removing all sorts of thoughts going through your head (images of taerae’s lips against yours, that is). you blush picturing it again, completely ignoring how taerae had gotten up and how he was already hovering over you. you snap back to reality, surprised to see his face so close to yours. "you’re going to have to remove that book if you want it to happen" he chuckles, looking at how you had subconsciously put your opened book over the bottom part of your face. "i don’t know how though" you close your eyes nervously before you feel him giggle against your lips "that’s what practice is for, don’t worry."
ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky
ricky had gone shopping this morning and here he was doing his weekly haul on your bed, products all spread out on your bedsheets. "they had a sale on lip balms so i took some for you too. want to test them out?" he shows a teasing smile. you nod, innocently puckering your lips for him to apply it for you. your excited face becomes puzzled watching ricky applies it on himself. "this one is strawberry flavored" he mirrors you, puckering his lips. you gulp, staring at how his lips are slightly pink and shimmering. "how do i do it?" you abruptly stop before your lips can touch. "kissing, i mean" you continue, your gaze getting lost in his. ricky hums, placing a hand on your nape to pull you closer. he was wrong though, the lip balm was cherry flavored.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin
gyuvin loves to nuzzle his nose in your neck, that’s an habit of his that you’ve always found so endearing. his nose is always kind of cold so he had started looking for some warmth against your skin. you were always giggling when he did it as you were a bit ticklish but today the air felt different. you feel your stomach make a 360 turn as his mouth grazes against the area connecting your neck and your shoulder. "gyuv?" he hums in response. "can you do that here? teach me." he rises his head and his eyes follow your finger which is pointing at your lips. "you’ve never done that?" he asks, eyes widening in a non-judgmental but curious way. you nod before he leans in without hesitation, immediately feeling his lips perfectly fit against yours.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook
"i’m so bored" you throw your head back against the frame of the opened window, enjoying the soft breeze coming from your side. "me too but it’s so hot that i can’t seem to move much" gunwook comes up to you, resting his head on your shoulder with a sigh. your shift your position so you’re facing him who is now standing between your hanging legs. your hand softly brushes through his slightly damp hair which causes him to look up at you. gunwook smiles softly before hesitantly brushing his lips against yours. you awkwardly peck back his lips, eyes screwed shut in embarrassment. "sorry, do you want me to stop?" gunwook notices your scrunched up face. "i just don’t know how to kiss" you sigh, avoiding his eyes as you blush. "i’m not sure how either, but let’s learn together?" he shoots back a reassuring smile.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin
you were playing the sims with yujin, finally buying your house after spending hours customising your characters. "i don’t really look like myself but that will do" you say, looking at your character closely. "that’s because you don’t have any custom content, look at my hair! that’s not me!" he complains. the night deepens as you're fully immersed into the game. "it is finally time!!" yujin announces dramatically, already giggling between each word. you look at him confused, wondering what he's up to again. you watch the screen as he selects the interaction, making both of your sims kiss. "wow, that's not fair that they are kissing before we do." you softly hit his shoulder. "do you know how?" he looks at you confused, still laughing. "no... we have to watch tutorials" you burst into a nervous fit of laughter until you suddenly feel yujin's lips brush against yours.
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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
the endings
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⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. click here for game day (group) chapter.
⋆˙⟡ wc: member endings are ~1k each, group endings are less than 500 words each! (in total: ~5k)
⋆˙⟡ reader: no pronouns used for reader at all in any of the endings :)
⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.
⋆˙⟡ endings summary: choose your own ending! jiwoong, hao, matthew, hanbin, taerae, group (quasi-poly), and group (revenge) are all included. most are angst/fluff and some are suggestive.
⋆˙⟡ warnings: there is no smut in these endings, but they allude to smut that happened previously or suggest smut that would follow these endings. please, minors dni still with this post! member endings are all happy (with angst). revenge ending is also happy, depending on what makes you happy! lol.
I'M SO SAD IT'S OVER. writing the bully series was so much fun! thank you to the anon who suggested it in the first place a couple months ago and for everyone who has given positive feedback/input! i appreciate it so much. these endings are all crafted with so much love! let me know which one you love most. maybe i'll put a poll at the bottom lol. ily, catch you in the next series!!
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˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
jiwoong 🎭
“so i’ll hand out these scripts and we’ll get started right away,” professor lee announces, walking around the room and handing out scripts for everyone’s assigned scenes. mina sits next to you as usual, except this week she’s staring daggers at jiwoong from across the room. you guess it beats her making googly eyes at him.
mina had called you last night to rant again about how much of a jerk “jiwoong-sshi” is. note the absence of the word “oppa”. you were sorry that he’d stood her up, but you knew what kind of a person he could be long before last week. 
and she unfortunately didn’t seem to care how much of a jerk jiwoong was when you were the one bearing the brunt of it.
but you don’t want to dwell on it. you’d just fucked him and four of his friends in the campus activities lounge and had no plans to tell her. she’d asked you how the “revenge” went, but you’d kept it all pretty vague. mina was no prude, but she might have the urge to gossip a bit with news as insane as that. you wouldn’t blame her if she did.
still, you didn’t regret what you did saturday. not even a little bit. in fact, it made you feel kind of proud every time you thought about it.
you spend all of class working on a scene with mina in which you play a really outrageous set of characters trying to escape arrest. it’s a role that you’ve never opted to take before— one that requires you to be bold, funny, and brave. 
professor lee praises you after you present it at the end of class. “excellent work. what’s gotten into you, (y/n)-sshi? whatever it is, let’s keep peeling back that shell!”
you smile with pride, eyes scanning the rest of the room until they happen to land on kim jiwoong.
he’s smiling, too.
when class ends, you pick your bag up off the floor and toss in your marked-up script. you’d normally throw it in the recycling bin, but you want to keep it this time. as a reminder of what you’re capable of when you’re sure of yourself.
mina giggles as you walk out the door together and into the hallway. “i’m surprised, but you really pulled that off!”
“i’m not.”
both of your heads whip around to find kim jiwoong leaning against the wall behind you.  
“you just needed some... encouragement,” he says with a smirk, but there’s a noticeable warmth in his eyes.
“and what exactly do you need in order to be able to show up to a commitment you made?” mina asks with a scowl. your eyes narrow at him, too.
“listen, i–... i’m really sorry, mina,” he responds sincerely. the fact that he even got her name right has you stifling a gasp— let alone the apology that prefaced it. “i shouldn’t’ve stood you up. that was mean. so i’m sorry.”
mina sucks in her cheek, looking at the ceiling as she considers his sentiment.
“but i actually have something else to apologize for, too,” he adds quickly, gaze moving back and forth between the both of you. “i... i wasn’t really interested in you in the first place. i was—... i used you. to get a reaction out of the person i’m actually interested in.”
his eyes meet yours. your lips part in shock at his sudden confession. you stare at him for a long moment, unspeaking until—
“AREYOUKIDDINGMEYOUABSOLUTEDICKOFAHUMANBEINGYOULIETOANDSTANDUPMYFRIENDANDLEAVEHERINFUCKINGTURMOILOVERYOUANDTHEN—.”
you glance over at mina, expecting to see tears running down her face but instead...
she’s grinning. from ear to ear. and not in a joker sort of way— just genuine happiness.
“i knew it,” she says, clasping her hands together in front of her face and jumping excitedly. “i KNEW it! i knew you both liked each other!”
“you—... what!?” you exclaim, eyes bugging at this bizarre turn of events. “what do you mean, ‘you knew we liked each other’!?”
“i’m also confused,” jiwoong says with a frown. “considering i didn’t really know until, like, yesterday.”
“well, i knew you were going to like each other. eventually,” she says with a nod. “you know, shy, quiet person and arrogant, attractive person trope. it’s destiny!”
“if you really thought that, then why did you wanna go out with him so bad?” you ask through furrowed brow.
“‘cause he’s hot. duh,” she says, shaking her head with a smile as if your question was very silly. “can you blame me for wanting a taste first?”
“well, if it’s just a taste we’re talking about—,” jiwoong starts to offer with a smirk.
“one more word and the only thing you’ll be tasting is—” you interject, balling your hand into a fist.
“aw, first lovers’ spat! i’ll leave you guys to it,” mina says quickly before sprinting off down the now-empty hall. 
you look down at your shoes awkwardly. “i have nothing else to say to you.”
“then, you won’t mind if i talk?” jiwoong asks, not waiting for a response to continue. “when hanbin made me start bullying you last year, i honestly didn’t want to. you were pathetic enough already without my help.”
“gee, thanks,” you reply with with a frown.
“but then i sort of started to have fun with it. the way you reacted was absolutely intoxicating. you made it all so rewarding— coming up with a new plan to drive you crazy every day,” he explains. “then last week, when we started that competition, i found a whole new way to drive you crazy. and i liked it a lot more.”
“this is the most convoluted apology i’ve ever received,” you remark with a sigh.
“after saturday, seeing you like that... you were far from pathetic. and it made me proud. i think, somewhere along the way, i just became really fond of you,” jiwoong confesses, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “and i also desperately want to buy you better clothes.”
“okay, i’m leaving now,” you announce, turning on your heel.
“what a coincidence. me too,” jiwoong says, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours as he starts to drag you with him down the hall. “you’re hungry, right?”
you start to protest, but as you look at his handsome side profile— dark hair covering the tips of his ears— you realize you are, in fact... hungry.
“starving,” you answer. 
he stops walking to look at you, eyes widening with surprise. “yeah? what would you like to eat then?”
staring at his lips, you can’t help but lick your own. “mina’s right, y’know.”
jiwoong’s head tilts, the corner of his lip upturning slowly as he registers your expression. “is she?”
“mhm,” you answer, pressing your lips to his. he responds quickly: soft, lazy, and stupidly addictive. you can’t believe you let him get away last week without kissing you. you could give him just one chance, couldn’t you? “but what she doesn’t know...”
he attaches your lips again, free hand cupping your jaw.
“is that one taste of you...”
jiwoong inhales sharply as you gently bite his bottom lip.
“just isn’t enough.”
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
hao 🎻
you rush into orchestra on tuesday, already five minutes late. unfortunately, your regular bus never showed at the stop. and then your back-up bus also never showed. which means you had to walk all the way to campus when you hadn’t planned to— your violin case in tow.
rehearsal having started already, you make a beeline for your seat and frantically open your violin case. luckily you’d warmed up your instrument before you’d left your house this week and your bow is ready to play when it hits the violin strings. 
or, it would be, if you didn’t just realize you forgot your sheet music.
“oh, for fucks sake,” you mumble, looking up at the sky and begging for the sweet release of death in this tragically embarrassing moment.
a soft creaking noise draws your attention to your left, where you find hao’s music stand is suddenly angled in your direction.
he doesn’t say anything or look at you. he just keeps playing. and so you follow the first chair’s lead.
rehearsal goes surprisingly well. you’re sure you managed to correct all of your mistakes from last week after being able to put more rosin on your bow.
“third and fourth chair are falling behind the tempo,” hao replies when professor ahn asks him for notes about the performance. your eyes widen when he names a violinist other than yourself that needs correcting. “it makes it harder for first and second chair to successfully introduce and complete the next movement.”
first and second chair? hao was voluntarily grouping you together?
professor ahn seems as surprised as you. she nods, writing down her own notes in the binder on her music stand. she waves her hand, dismissing the orchestra for the day. you clean your violin, getting it ready to be put back in its case as your classmates begin to file out of the orchestra room.
“(y/n)-sshi,” professor ahn calls suddenly from the doorway. your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of your name. “you actually played quite well today. i’ll assume it’s because you had the help of the concertmaster’s annotations. don’t be late again.”
you nod quickly, bowing your head respectfully to her. “thank you, professor-nim. i’ll play even better next time.”
you’re left alone with hao as usual, both cleaning your violins with the utmost care. when you finish, you place your instrument in its case before fishing around in the side pocket and pulling out something small.
hao locks his violin case, placing it sideways at his feet. finally, he looks at you.
you hold out the cake of rosin that he’d given you last week and told you to bring to your next rehearsal. you’d be remiss to notice that even though you didn’t show him until after class, he never told professor ahn that you’d stolen it like he threatened.
hao examines the rosin, completely ruined from what you’d both done with it. there was no cleaning it and you couldn’t use it if you tried.
you expect to catch some attitude, but, to your surprise, he smiles. “guess it couldn’t be salvaged, huh?”
“guess not,” you agree with a shrug. “at least you got some use out of it.”
“mm,” he hums after a moment before reaching down and reopening his violin case delicately. his hand disappears into one of the side pockets and pulls out a fresh cake of his premium rosin.
and then he hands it to you.
you stare at it in your palm, wide-eyed. “w-what are you—”
“you’re a pretty decent violinist,” hao says matter-of-factly. “sometimes— not often— but sometimes i feel like you have the potential to be almost as good as me. but you’ll never reach it if you don’t start using higher quality products to care for your instrument.”
“oh,” you reply, brow furrowing as he locks up his violin again. “so you’ve decided to take pity on me now?”
he smirks. “something like that.”
“i guess it’s better than pure hatred,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you tuck the box of rosin into your own violin case.
“i never hated you,” hao says with a frown. you sit back up, lips parting as your eyes meet his. “i didn’t particularly like you, but i only told professor ahn about the mistakes you were making because they were careless. you always came in the next week with those same mistakes completely perfected.”
“so you were motivating me through public shame?” you clarify, one brow piqued in disbelief. 
“doing whatever it takes to improve the sound of the orchestra is what sets a great concertmaster apart from a mediocre one,” he explains, deciding to paint himself as a misunderstood martyr. 
“oh, i’m sure it was so difficult for you to step up and take one from the team,” you mock, a laugh escaping you at hao’s audacity. “do you hear what you’re saying? you’re so fucking full of yourself. who gave you the right to play god and—?”
hao leans in, connecting his lips to yours mid-rant. your breath hitches in disbelief as he pulls back.
“would you be mad if i said i wanna get to know you better?” he asks, hand resting on your thigh.
you look down at his long fingers on your soft skin. “furious,” is what you answer.
he presses his lips together in a hopeless smile. “i’ll take it that means you don’t feel the same way then.”
“you always think you know everything about everything,” you huff, grabbing his hand in yours and bringing it further up your thigh. “but you don’t. so i guess you will have to get to know me better if you wanna keep being an insufferable know-it-all.”
as soon as a smile appears on hao’s face, it’s replaced by the cutest frown. “i’m sad now.”
“why?” you ask, not sure how your answer could’ve possibly made him sad when it was the one he wanted.
“i took for granted how absolutely fucking adorable you are when you’re angry,” he whines, a disheartened little pout on his pretty lips. “kind of makes me wish i could keep making you angry from time to time.”
you blink at him, looking around awkwardly as a reluctant smile grows on your face. “i mean—... i guess i’d have to worry about my playing skills suffering if you stop completely. that wouldn’t be very responsible of concertmaster-nim.”
“no, it wouldn’t,” he replies, biting his lip in a smirk. you’re fully aware of what this title does to him. “so what should i do to keep you playing well?”
you look up at the ceiling, considering your options. “maybe you could see what other things in the music room fit up my—” “that’s depraved,” hao scolds, shaking his head at you in shock before a grin peeks through. “are you free right now?”
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
matthew 💪
with three weeks left of your soccer unit in phys. ed, you braced for an awkward class on wednesday. as you wait outside in the warm, spring breeze with your classmates, you waited anxiously for matthew to show up.
he doesn’t. 
coach yang blows his whistle, signaling for you to form a straight line in front of him. luckily one of your classmates asks the question for you.
“coach-nim! where’s matthew hyung?” the younger boy asks in front of you. “we wanted to talk to him about the game.”
“ah, matthew-sshi is on a strict regimen of weight-training and cardio until the championship,” coach yang answers with a sigh. a little quieter, he adds, “and maybe that’ll teach him to stay in line.”
maybe, you think. maybe not.
it’s a surprisingly pleasant p.e. class. your classmates are respectful, giving you as much grace during the game as possible. your sunbaenim from your calc class even pushes you behind him when a ball comes a bit too quickly towards your face.
“thanks,” you say with a smile.
he smiles back. “don’t mention it.”
this class sure was different when someone wasn’t trying to kill you the whole time. that being said, you’re pretty disappointed that matthew isn’t here. you can’t help but wonder how he would’ve treated you today after saturday night.
when class is over, coach yang hands you a hose, some rags and a ball trolley. he still can’t look you in the eye after what happened. “here’s your supplies. shouldn’t take you more than an hour.”
you nod ashamedly, getting to work right away.
“and a word of advice,” coach yang adds over his shoulder. “don’t be afraid to put him in his place from time to time. you played well today without him. it’s nice to see you have some more confidence, (y/n)-sshi. good luck.”
the last thing you were expecting today was a pep talk from coach yang. you walk over to the right side of the field and pick up a muddy, grass-stained ball and bring it over to the hose. washing it thoroughly and buffing any stains with a rag, you drop it into the ball trolley and make your way to the back of the field to retrieve a couple more.
you grab one from behind the goal, turning around to fetch the other one. but as you do, you come face to face with matthew— tossing the ball gently back and forth between his hands.
“hi,” he greets shyly. 
your lips press together in an awkward smile. “hi.”
he doesn’t say anything else for a moment, so you brush past him— bringing your ball back to the hose. he follows behind you quietly, placing his soccer ball on the ground beside yours. you pick up the hose and douse them both in the cold water.  matthew picks up a rag and kneels down on the ground next to you, buffing the soccer ball you’d brought over.
you pick up the one he brought over, doing the same. “that one was mine.”
his eyes widen, holding out the ball to you wordlessly in an attempt to give it back.
you can’t help but laugh. “i was just kidding.”
“right,” he replies with a nod, returning to cleaning the ball. “sorry.”
you raise one eyebrow at him quizzically. “are you okay?”
“hm?” he asks before nodding quickly. “oh, yeah. i’m fine.”
“are you sure?” you question further. “because this is my punishment and you’re helping me when you should be getting ready for practice.”
matthew shrugs. “it was my fault.”
“it absolutely was,” you agree, tossing your soccer ball into the trolley. “and you got away with it scot-free.”
suddenly, matthew’s hand reaches toward your forehead— thumb brushing over the tiny scar from where the ball he kicked had scraped your skin. “i shouldn’t have.”
well this is... new. matthew taking accountability for his actions? you never thought you’d see the day.
“i—... um...” he stutters, starting to pick at the grass in front of him. “i think i should probably be punished. for that. and for a lot of things.”
oh.
so he’d really liked it.
“oh. should i tell coach yang to—,” you play dumb, starting to stand up like you’re about to march right into his office yourself. 
“NO! ... no. no,” matthew grabs your hand, keeping you seated next to him. he bites his lip, clearly embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “want you to do it.”
“huh,” you reply with frown. “i thought you didn’t really prefer people who were tainted.”
“you aren’t tainted,” he says, shaking his head. “that—... that was really immature of me to say. and gross. and i’m... i’m sorry.”
you look at him for a long moment, studying his eyes to see if he’s being genuine or not. there’s no obvious signs of lying. he’s very nervous, but it’s not because he’s being untruthful. maybe it’s because he finally is.
“and i can also assume that you said sorry to the waterboy?” you ask, pressing your lips together in an attempt to not laugh at his panicked expression. “and that defense player on the other team? actually, you should probably just draft a mass apology and send it to every university team you’ve ever played against. it would save some time.”
matthew nods sullenly. “yeah. i can do that.”
you have to admit, you like matthew quite a bit when he’s like this. he’s agreeable, apologetic, and distressingly adorable.
“i appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” you reply, patting him on the shoulder gently. “i think... maybe... we could make this work.”
matthew’s eyes light up at this. “really? you’d wanna keep doing... this?”
you smile. “yeah. it doesn’t sound so bad, now that you’re being nice to me.”
matthew smiles with embarrassment, avoiding your gaze. “i guess i should’ve tried this approach last year. but i—... have you ever heard of alpha male podcasts?”
“matthew,” you groan, palm flying to your forehead in disbelief. “you’re gonna unsubscribe from every single one of those, okay?”
he nods frantically. “of course. they didn’t get me anything anyway, except a light ‘roid addiction.”
“do not tell anyone that, oh my god,” you reprimand, hitting his thigh. “you’re also gonna throw all of that out immediately.
“ah, it was so expensive though,” he winces, tilting his head as he weighs the consequences. “can’t i sell them instead?”
“JUST GET RID OF—,” you shout, cutting yourself off when matthew suddenly leans over and kisses your cheek.
he grins. “you’re so beautiful when you’re disappointed in me.”
“you’re—... you—...” you stutter until matthew leans in again, pressing his lips to yours this time. he pulls back, leaving your brain hazy. “please don’t be so mean to me again.”
he shakes his head decisively. “i won’t. i promise.”
you smile, stomach fluttering as he beams at you. 
“but, like... you’re okay with being mean to me sometimes, right?” matthew asks, scratching the back of his neck.
“oh, absolutely,” you answer with a nod. “i’ll start now.”
he laughs passively, obviously interpreting this as a joke. “sure, sure.”
you stand up, hovering your foot over his crotch. “finish cleaning these soccer balls. now.”
matthew’s eyes widen with fear, hopping to his feet immediately, bowing his head to you, and sprinting off to the end of the field to complete his task.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
hanbin 📝
“hanbin-ah!” you shout, running down the dimly-lit, empty hallway. how far could he have made it in the few minutes since he’d stormed out of the activities lounge without so much as a word. 
“hanbin-ah...”
a banging down the hallway to your right seems to signal his location. you turn down it, running until you reach the end and a long hall of public lockers unfolds before you. to your left is a very distraught hanbin, clanging his locker door about as he holds a small book in his hands.
the floor is littered with torn up pieces of paper, that seem to be coming from the book he’s holding.
“FUCK,” he yells, ripping out another page from the book and crumpling it up— tossing it onto the ground, where it lands at your feet.
you bend down and pick it up, carefully unfolding it and reading what’s written:
what the fuck does (y/n) see in junseo hyung-nim? i thought that poem was for me. could (y/n) really choose him over me? is he better than me? i don’t understand. what did i do wrong?
it’s a diary entry— your name, mentioned twice. the confession contained in it sends a chill down your spine. hanbin had posted your poem about junseo sunbaenim out of spite.
out of jealousy?
you pick up another crumpled paper and unfold it, reading:
i just hung up all the copies of the poem around campus. i got the other guys in on it, too. maybe this’ll teach you not to take people for granted. maybe it’ll keep you thinking about me.
hanbin throws his empty journal across the hallway, sitting down on the ground with his back against a locker as he runs a hand through his hair in distress.
you walk over to him cautiously, standing in front of him and waiting until he looks up at you. you hold out the pieces of paper from his journal and drop them on his lap. “so you decided to ruin my life because you couldn’t have me?”
hanbin reads the writing on the crumpled papers, tears suddenly spilling over and streaming down his cheeks. he wipes them away as quickly as they come. his chin dimples up with sadness. it reminds you of something...
you look in his locker, finding his messenger bag and opening the flap. you dig around gently until your hand wraps around it.
you sit down next to hanbin, back against a locker as you place the little, plush hamster in his lap. he stares at it for a long moment before finally picking it up in his hand and giving it a gentle squish. a tear falls onto the hamster’s nose.
“you found this the other day?” he says, rubbing the back of his hand across his cheeks again.
you nod. “he’s cute.”
hanbin smiles. “i was hoping you’d think that.”
“what do you mean?” you ask, a confused pout forming on your lips.
“i was hoping you’d think he was cute,” he says, running his thumb over the hamster’s fur, “when i bought it for you.”
“what?”
“on the class trip to the national library last year,” he continues. “we sat next to each other on the bus and you pulled three plushies out of your bag like it was the most normal thing ever. and you told me all their names and what they wanted to be when they grew up.”
“hanbin-ah...”
“and we took those polaroids of each other outside on the grass. and ate kimbap at the picnic table in the garden. and ran around together finding the weirdest books we could. and then, in the giftshop, they had a bunch of cute plushies themed off of children’s books and...” hanbin rambles wistfully. “and i bought this one for you while you weren’t looking.”
“hanbinnie, i’m so sorry,” you interject truthfully. you see the full picture now and you never had before. “i shouldn’t’ve been so oblivious as to make you feel like i was leading you on, but i was. and i never should’ve told you about that poem in the first place. i’m sorry.”
he blinks back at you before shaking his head adamantly. “it’s— it’s not your fault.”
“but i hurt your feelings,” you assert, meeting his gaze. “and i never wanted to do that. you were my first friend i made at university. actually, you’re the only friend i’ve made at university. how pathetic is that?”
he shakes his head again, brow furrowing sadly. “it’s not. it’s—... it’s my fucking fault that that happened. it’s... it’s all my fault.”
“hanbinnie, it’s—... it’s okay, you—,” you try to alleviate his burden, like the moral person you are.
“no, don’t do that. don’t say it’s okay, because it’s not,” hanbin asserts, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. “i made you share something you didn’t want to. and i betrayed your trust. and i—... fucking—... all because i couldn’t handle my own emotions?”
you chew your cheek nervously. “listen, it’s okay—.”
“you’re the nicest person on the fucking planet if you can sit here and say that’s okay,” he says, a sad laugh escaping him. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but... i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to fully express to you how sorry i am.”
you don’t respond, stunned by hanbin’s genuine apology. 
“i could try, though, if you want me to,” he blathers on anxiously. “i could write a hundred thousand words worth of apologies and you could rip them all up and make me start again and—.”
“he looks like you,” you interject suddenly.
he frowns. “hm?”
“the hamster,” you clarify, holding out your hand. eyes wide, hanbin places the hamster in your palm. “he looks a lot like you.”
hanbin doesn’t say anything, his eyes trained on the side of your face as you squish the little plush. 
“it’s funny, actually,” you hold the hamster up for him to see. “looking at this hamster and trying to be mad at him is a lot like how it feels when i look at you.”
eyes still wide, hanbin’s bottom lip finds its way between his teeth— not sure how to answer to your overwhelming mercy.
“you’re right. that wasn’t okay,” you say as you bring the hamster to your lips, giggling after you give him a little peck. “but this is okay.”
“this?” he repeats.
“doesn’t this feel pretty nice?” you pose, eyes locking with his. “us getting along?”
hanbin nods slowly. “yeah. it does.”
“what do you say we continue this?” you ask with a smile. “indefinitely.”
“i—...” he stutters as a smile grows on his lips as well. “i’d really like that.”
“me too,” you agree, eyes abruptly narrowing. “but it’ll cost you.”
his brow raises, swallowing hard at your words. “absolutely. anything. name your price.”
you hold up the hamster to the side of your face, doing your best to mimic his little expression. “i want him.”
if hanbin’s eyes could turn to cartoon love hearts, they would. but because he’s a human person, his pupils simply dilate. “you—... i—... he’s yours. he was always yours.”
you grin, giving the hamster a hug. “thanks.”
“thank you,” he says, still reeling from your cuteness. “i’ll miss him, but he’s where he belongs now.”
“maybe you can visit him sometimes,” you offer, biting your lip shyly. “you’re clearly his biological father, after all. i’m sure your presence in his life is nothing less than enriching.”
he laughs. “some father i am. i didn’t even manage to give him a name.”
you smile. “he has a name.”
hanbin tilts his head curiously. “he does?”
you nod. “his name is binnie. jr.”
his cheeks turn red at this suggestion. “really? you want to name him after me?”
you don’t answer. instead, you ask softly, “hanbinnie?”
“yeah?” he replies eagerly.
“do you...” you start, finding the confidence to finish your question. “do you still like me?”
hanbin’s breath hitches in his throat. “um...”
“it’s okay if you don’t,” you assure with a sigh. “i just... a year ago, i didn’t even know someone like you would be interested in me. you’re so handsome. and smart. and the soccer team’s star player. i never even considered the possibility that you felt that way about me. but now, i—... i have more confidence. maybe you accidentally gave it to me, but i have it nonetheless.”
he looks at you intently, waiting for you to continue.
“and i think i realized that... i want you to like me,” you confess. “i wanted you to like me the whole time. i just didn’t want to admit it because i was afraid it was too much to ask for. and i—.”
“(y/n),” hanbin interjects with the fondest smile imaginable. “i like you so much i think my chest might explode.”
you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. neither can he. hanbin brings his hand to cup your jaw, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 
“oh and i’m sorry i fucked all your friends right in front of your face,” you say, pulling back momentarily.
hanbin laughs, shrugging it off. “i totally deserved it. and... it was pretty hot.”
“keep kissing me,” you request with a smile.
“don’t have to tell me twice.”
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
taerae 🎤
after a completely bizarre session of portraits and quotes for the campus newspaper, the boys all awkwardly grab their things and head out the door. as you place your clipboard and pen on the activities director’s desk, you see a familiar backpack shoved behind a chair. you forgot you’d stashed taerae’s bag and phone in here when he didn’t come back for it on friday.
you walk over to it, picking it up off of the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. you shut off the lights, walking down the hallway until you spot your former best friend— sitting alone on the entrance steps to kang hall in the spring night air.
you plop yourself down next to him, placing his bag on the step in front of him. he turns to you, eyes red and watery.
“oh, tae,” you whisper, head falling instinctively to his shoulder. 
“why’re you comforting me?” he asks with a sniffle. “you should be punching me in the face or something.”
“would you prefer it?” you joke, trying to get him to smile. “because i can absolutely just—.”
“this is good,” he says with a breathy laugh.
“good,” you affirm, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i love you.”
“(y/n),” taerae seems to plead. “i can’t—.”
“i love you,” you repeat. “and i miss you so much.”
“i—...” he stumbles verbally, but grabs your hand in his. “i—.”
“when did you lose your virginity?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. 
he gulps. “uh... a couple years ago.”
“and you didn’t tell me?” you question, a little hurt that he’d kept this big news a secret from you even when you were still friends. “to who?”
taerae shakes his head anxiously. “it’s not that important.”
“oh, come on,” you urge, squeezing his hand. “i told you i lost mine to sungchan oppa during that pool party at mina’s dad’s house.”
he flinches at this. “i remember.”
“it was that same pool party where you threw up in the pool,” you say with a smirk. “an eventful night for both of us.”
“mhm,” taerae mumbles shortly. he was definitely growing more bothered with each mention of that party.
“and to think, a couple of years later we’d do what we just did,” you muse in an attempt to dig something more out of him. “we’ve come so far from you throwing up in the pool at the thought of kissing me.”
“i never said that!” taerae exclaims with frustration. “you said that. and i just... went with it.”
you shake your head, brow furrowing confusedly. “then why did you throw up?”
“because—... because i was nervous,” he says softly. “i was so nervous to kiss you that i threw up in mina’s dad’s pool and then i was so embarrassed that i couldn’t even open my mouth to deny that i was disgusted by the thought of kissing you.”
you blink at him in shock. “did—... did you have feelings for me?”
after a long moment, he nods. but there’s more tension lingering under the surface. you know there’s more that needs to be said.
“i really liked you,” taerae confesses softly. “i never wanted to weird you out or anything, but i just liked you from the first day i met you. i loved being your friend, but i just couldn’t help it. when you told me at that party that you’d hooked up with sungchan hyung... i just got so jealous. i thought i could be cool about it, but i was drunk and...”
your eyes are wide, clinging onto his every word.
“and i hooked up with someone, too,” he admits with a pained expression. “i thought it might be the only way to make you jealous back, so i—... i—...”
you hold your breath.
“i hooked up with mina!” he exclaims quickly, looking down at his lap in shame.
“YOU WHAT!?” you scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look you in the eyes. “that’s not fucking funny!”
“i know it’s not,” he replies despairingly. “i regretted it instantly afterwards. no— while it was happening. i was so disgusted with myself. i hated lying to you, but i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. i thought i wouldn’t have to until last year, when hanbin hyung came up to me in the hallway after class.”
your brow furrows at the mention of hanbin’s name.
“he said he knew what i’d done with mina. apparently he had a few friends that went to the party,” he explains sadly. “and that if i didn’t do exactly what he told me to, that he’d tell you what i did and he’d make things even worse for you. i just couldn’t let either of those things happen.”
“how—... how did you even manage to bag mina?” you ask in a daze.
“well, i mean,” taerae grimaces. “it’s mina.”
“she’s a total slut,” you nod, catching on immediately. “more power to her.”
“the most power to her,” taerae agrees quickly. 
“why didn’t she tell me?” you wonder.
“oh, that one’s easy,” taerae answers with a shrug. “she said she’d rather die than let anyone know we slept together.”
“that sounds like mina,” you affirm. so the truth was out. it’s hard to wrap your head around everything all at once, but you were definitely relieved that taerae didn’t actually hate you. he was just an idiot.
“i’m so sorry, (y/n),” he apologizes genuinely. “for everything.”
you sigh heavily. “i’m sorry, too.”
taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “what do you mean? you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“i’m sorry i bragged to you about losing my virginity. i could’ve been more sensitive with that information,” you reply. “and i’m sorry that i said you threw up in the pool, because you didn’t want to kiss me and never asked you what the truth was. i could’ve been more considerate of my best friend.”
“i love you,” taerae says abruptly. “being without you this year was literally the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
you nod in affirmation. “let’s never do it again.”
“never,” he agrees with a wide, dimpled grin. that smile you missed so much. you watch it fade naturally, replaced by a fond gaze. but you desperately want to see it again.
so you do the only thing that you can.
you kiss him.
he pulls back after a moment, that perfect grin shining back at you. it’s enough to light up the night sky. 
“i know i was using the past tense before, but,” taerae says, biting his lip. “i still really like you.”
you smile, pulling him back in to meet your lips again. “prove it.”
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
group (poly) 🥵
you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.
"so, uh," jiwoong starts, scratching the back of his neck. "are we gonna do those interviews now?"
you shrug. "you can just text me a quote, if you want. probably easier actually."
they all agree nonverbally, the uncomfortable haze still lingering in the air.
"you can also text me about when you'll be free again," you add, the boys heads turning rapidly to look at you.
"uh... which one of us?" matthew asks with a frown.
you shrug. “whoever’s down.”
“you—… you wanna do this again?” hao asks, lips parted in shock.
“why not?” you answer honestly. “i had fun. but if you’re not into it, that’s okay too.”
“i’m into it!” hao replies a bit too quickly. “i just meant that… i didn’t know you would be.”
“i guess before last week, someone would’ve had a hard time convincing me that i’d wanna do this once— let alone twice,” you admit with a smile. “but i think i’ve proved i changed.”
“and you’re okay with… changing?” taerae asks, worry in his eyes.
you nod definitively. “yeah. i am.”
“so, after all this, you’ve decided you just wanna fuck all of us whenever you want?” hanbin asks, standing up from the desk he’s sitting on and walking over to you. “you really think you’re hot enough for that?”
you smile at him. “no one’s forcing you to participate.”
hanbin frowns, studying you as you hold eye contact.
“don’t be too upset, hanbinnie,” you say with a pout. “you’re the one who wanted me to fuck your friends in the first place. you just forgot to consider i might end up really liking it.”
he stares at you for another long moment. and then, he smiles. “i guess you’ve won your own game then?”
you smile back. “i guess i have.”
“then i have to pay the price, fair and square. we all do,” hanbin nods with respect— an undeniable warmth in his gaze. “congratulations.”
you look at the other boys around you— excitement reaching their eyes as you grin. were they really all yours now?
“thanks,” you say happily. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
group (revenge) 😈
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.
"hey, is that camera on?" jiwoong suddenly asks, pointing at the camera you set up by the photo wall to take portraits for the campus activities interviews.
at least, that's why you told them you set it up.
"there's a little red flashing light," hao observes with a frown. "to the left of the lens."
"did—... did you record this?" matthew asks, fear palpable in his eyes as he looks at you.
you hop off the desk you're sitting on, grabbing your shorts and shimmying them on. walking over to the camera, you hit the record button again to stop filming. then you, take the camera off it's tripod and throw it in your bag that's sitting on the ground beside it.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you boys," you say, making your way towards the door.
hanbin stands up, grabbing your shoulder. "what are you gonna do with that?"
you shrug. "nothing."
his brow furrows tensely, not sure whether to relax or not.
"yet," you finish.
"(y/n), please," taerae begs from behind you. "please don't post that."
"i'm not gonna post it," you say, rolling your eyes. "i'm in the video, too, remember?"
the boys look around at each other, not sure what to do.
"but if i have to," you threaten, unlocking the door, "i won't hesitate. could anything be worse than what you've already put me through?"
"wait, (y/n)!" jiwoong calls. "we're—... we're sorry. we're all really sorry for everything."
"i'm sure you are," you reply, opening the door and exiting the activities lounge...
"i'm sure you'll stay sorry for a long time, too."
426 notes · View notes
lowaltitude · 12 days ago
Text
Dial Tone 6  | Matt Rempe
- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader
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❪ 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
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
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
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
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.
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
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.
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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.
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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.
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
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.
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
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.
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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?”
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hayleythesugarbowl · 1 year ago
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CHANDLER HCS PLEASE 🙏😭 i know you have some pretty popular Joey hcs and i would love some for Chandler Bing i love him so much thank you in advance
chandler bing x reader headcanons
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • f•r•i•e•n•d•s masterlist ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
a/n: happy to give you the chandler content you deserve. i imagine this to take place in s1. hope you enjoy!! 💌🍒
edit!! i changed the picture because i found a more aesthetic one lol but same post 😌
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dating chandler would include…
so when he first saw you he thought you were way out of his league 
but joey convinced him to ask you out 
and you found his awkwardness adorable 
but you had to say ‘yes, I’ll go out with you’ a few times before he believed you 
‘are you sure? because don’t worry if you’re rejecting me, i’m good at this part.’
he took you to an aquarium for your first date because he had free tickets
(‘you know, i’ve never really seen the appeal of these things. i mean, do you think in another world fish go pay to see us walk around in our homes?’ you laughed at that.)
and one of the tanks broke and soaked you both
after giving you his jacket and walking you back to your apartment he said:
‘let me guess, you’ll call me?’
‘what? you think one wet, fishy date is going to stop me from seeing you again?’
‘from your tone im guessing no, in which case I’m thrilled and I’ll call you as soon as i get to my apartment.’
you kissed him as he stood there blushing 
and you were all he could talk about for weeks. 
he found ways to bring you up in every conversation 
‘speaking off coffee, you know (y/n)…” 
he loves cuddling with you
and watching tv in his chair together
which started because joey didn’t want anyone else siting in his chair 
he brags about you all the time to his friends
joey flirts with you whenever you go back to chandler’s apartment 
but it’s all in good fun and joey is thrilled to see chandler so happy 
chandler asks you for fashion advice constantly 
‘ok be honest: do i look like my grandmother in this?’
he gets so easily flustered like 😫 ajhfsfagajslf 
‘you’re so sexy’
‘i—you—you think I’m sexy? i mean, um, i—i just made it un-sexy didn’t i?’
he even quit smoking for you 
he needs reassurance that you love him and that he’s good enough for you all the time 
when you’re at work or he’s at work he calls you literally every hour just to say ‘hi’
he asks rachel and monica and phoebe for advice on how to please you 
you become really close with all of his friends and they love you so much 
chandler can always make you smile or laugh even on your worst days 
and he enjoys doing so
you play with his hair all the time
‘my parents? are you sure we don’t want to go see your family for the holidays?’
he said i love you first 
and then panicked that you weren’t going to say it too, as he tried to backtrack 
but you assured him that you loved him so much 
when you first started going out, he knew that he really liked you 
but as time went on he found himself falling more and more in love with you 
and that scared him 
until he realized that he was ready. that he wanted to be in a long-term relationship with you
maybe spend the rest of his life with you 
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope this is what you wanted. i love writing for chandler so much. also rip matthew perry 🤍
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